Foster was surprised at his interest, but he answered him honestly. A Wolf, an Alpha especially, could tell when a person lied. Shifters rarely bothered with playing those kinds of games.
“A ceremonial dagger dated back to the twelfth century, a buckskin cloth that may have been used to cover an altar, and a very well preserved claw from a wolf, possibly a Shifter, not that the normals would’ve known that.”
“What purpose would you have for stealing these items?”
“Well, I’m an artist, not a historian, but I’ve spent the last few years researching just that,” Foster leaned forward lowering his voice even further.
He didn’t need to be told there were other Wolves in the place. His senses answered that question already.
“Alpha, it seems these artifacts are believed to hold certain magical importance in the Shifter community. They are part of some sort of ancient ritual that would involve the transference of power. I think whoever stole them was trying to copy the ritual.”
“I’ve heard of such things, but only as myths,” Rafe replied, “there are others in my Pack I can consult with if you give me permission?” he inquired, and Foster nodded. He had to admit he was surprised he’d asked.
“Yes, well, I don’t pretend to know if it works, only that the gallery was granted permission to study the artifacts.”
“And you and Ms. Furlong? Why would she accuse you?”
“We’d spent the night together after my last showing at her gallery. It sold out. I’d waited over six months to get my royalties until I finally threatened her with legal action if she didn’t remit payment in full. Before I received the payment, about a week or so after I had left that message, the robbery occurred.”
“How much did she owe you?”
“Ah, well,” he rubbed his chin, he never did like to talk about money, “the gallery still owes me about two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, though I am told by my attorneys, that I should probably just forget that money.”
“It’s a lot to forget,” Rafe said.
“They said it would look bad for me if I went after it. Also, it probably did not help that on the day before the robbery I went to her office and busted her new five-thousand-dollar coffee maker.”
“I see,” Rafe said.
“Yeah, well, anyway, she pointed the finger.”
“And you went to jail.”
“Yes.”
His face was carefully blank. No emotion, but that also meant no obvious judgement. Foster did not mind that at all. He could use the benefit of Rafe Maccon’s doubt. He needed this man’s help if for nothing more than his permission to stay.
Foster had two goals in mind. He wanted to clear his name, and he needed to heal his Wolf. His time in prison was hard on his animal. Maccon City was just the kind of place to help his Wolf regain that sense of himself that was stripped away in jail.
“Can I ask why does this town seem to have two names?”
“Maccon City is where we are now, founded by my ancestor,” Rafe said and he could see the pride in the Alpha’s steady gaze, “Macconwood is owned by the Pack, though legally, I suppose it is owned by one of our corporations. It got the nickname because of the woods and pine barrens that surround it to the west. Eventually, it was recognized as a borough though all the properties there are Pack owned.”
“Impressive,” Foster said.
He meant it too. Imagine having acres of private woods for the use of his Wolf. It was exactly the kind of thing he longed for. The freedom and space to run, and the sense of community the Pack would provide to reel him in if he strayed too far from his true self.
“Alpha-”
“Please, call me Rafe.”
“Rafe,” he nodded and was slightly taken aback at the informal manner of address, but in truth he found it refreshing, “I would like to thank you for granting me permission to remain here while I figure things out.”
Rafe nodded. He took a sip of the strong brew Ms. Rivera had placed before him and Foster knew he was about to ask him something. That was fine. He just had to be honest.
“My senses have found no deceit in you, Foster Reynolds,” rafe said and when he spoke his eyes glowed near white before returning to their normal glacier blue, “I think you were most likely framed. You were sentenced to three years, released early for good behavior which is good, but still, nineteen months in a jail cell could not have been easy for you or your Wolf.”
“No, Alpha, it was not,” he said through clenched teeth.
His Wolf hated the reminder of his prison days. The animal had wanted to bite, claw, and fight to escape. Everything and anything to be rid of that horrible place. Instead, Foster had learned to master control over his Wolf.
Trying to run would have only meant death from the dozens of guards with semi-automatic shotguns full of high tech bullets, hollow points, slug shots, silver tips, and others. All known to take down man or Shifter.
“Easy, brother Wolf. Be at peace. You walk among friends,” Rafe’s voice was tinged with a hint of his animal as it echoed from his mouth into the far reaches of Foster’s mind.
He spoke directly to Foster’s Wolf, using his Alpha voice to do so. Immediately, Foster felt his inner beast calm. Relief flowed through him and he was grateful for the Alpha’s interference. He refocused on the man and listened to what he had to say.
“It is okay. I truly understand. Now that you are out, what are your plans?” Rafe asked and sipped from his still steaming cup of coffee.
“I want to build a life, Alpha, but I can’t lie to you. I want to find out who did this to me.”
“Understandable. Okay, here is what I am going to do. I am granting you a trial period. You may stay here in Maccon City, and as such you will be under my protection.”
“Thank you-”
“I have one condition,” he interrupted, “Don’t bring trouble here. You find something, you speak to me. Got it?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Foster agreed.
“Good. One of my Wolves is a realtor. I had him make up a lease for a small house for you to rent. Here is his number. His name is Carlos Rivera.”
“Related to Nancy here?”
“Yes, her husband,” Rafe winked.
“Thank you.”
“One more thing, do you have means of employment while you are here? I don’t know of anyone looking, but maybe I could finagle something.”
“Thank you, but I am okay. Now that I’m out, my bank accounts have all been unlocked. I can live quite comfortably for the time being, Alpha.”
Rafe Maccon nodded his head and stood to leave. Foster watched as he waved goodbye to the smallish woman who ran the diner. So, Nancy was a normal with a Wolf for a mate. That explained the sly looks. She knew what he was.
Think of the devil, he smiled kindly as she sauntered over to him with her pad in hand. Her tanned skin glistened with sweat from the warmth of the day and the hard work she’d obviously already put in. She was a little bit older than him, tough, and Foster renewed his initial opinion that he liked the diner owner.
“So, you look like you could use a good meal, and since Rafe says you can stay, you can stay. Now what will you have?”
“Thank you, but I think I’ll just call your husband and see about my rental.”