Wolf #1: The Pack [COMPLETED]

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Weeks have gone by, and I finally finish reading the books that Dorothy had lent my sister. Nothing strikes me as odd about what is written in the books, and the only one I can find that has anything to do with alternative medicine is the book about herbology. Other than that, most of the books are catalogues of plants and how to take care of them.

I've given all the books back and am now sitting in Steph's room, staring at her bookshelf. It's fill of the romance and fantasy novels she loved so much. My sister was an avid theatre geek and had countless plays and musicals lining the shelves too. But nothing on plants. Nothing on magic or herbology. Nothing to explain the box she had left behind for me, or the journal I had found.

My phone rings and I see that it's Detective Abel. I let it ring. He had called my parents shortly after my encounter with Jace and Rachel at the nursery to inform them that Steph's room was no longer a crime scene, and that we can go in it. It's a nice way of saying that they are no longer considering homicide as a cause of death.

Bastard.

I never gave him back the toothed necklace. It had somehow made its way back to me, and I can only assume that he cleared that too and my parents had put it on my pillow. That's what I told myself to help me close my eyes at night, but I don't honestly believe it. Still, Detective Abel has never mentioned its disappearance to me, and seeing as he doesn't seem interested in this case anymore, I left it as it was. I don't dare either. Any time I mention anything involving the investigation, my head is torn off by my dad.

"Why is he so angry?" I mutter to myself. He's always been a bit on the stoic side, but this investigation around Steph's death has brought out a rage in him that I've never seen before.

The phone rings again. Looking at the necklace from where it dangles around my neck, I wonder if he's finally noticed that it's no longer in their evidence locker. I pick up on the fourth time he dials, "Hello."

There's a moment of silence from the other side of the line, and I suspect it's because he's surprised by my sharp voice. I can barely contain my anger anymore—I'm frustrated and disappointed, and I'm tired of hiding it.

Maybe everyone else wants to move on. But I don't. I refuse to until my sister gets the justice she deserves.

"Amelia, I wanted to check on how you were doing," He says hesitantly, "Your parents told me that you would be going through Steph's stuff this week."

"Stephanie. You can call her Stephanie, Detective Abel," I say bitterly, "And yes. I'm in her room right now. You know the one—where she was killed. Where I found that man and his necklace—"

"Amelia," His tone stumps out any rebellion in my voice. I'm quiet again. He sighs and I can imagine that he's running a hand through his gelled back hair, "I'm sorry we couldn't find what you wanted to hear. But there wasn't any evidence of a murder. Your sister's death was tragic, but it wasn't by the hands of anyone else but herself—"

"Why are you actually calling, Detective?" I interrupt. As I suspected, he didn't give a damn about the necklace in the first place. Everyone wants to believe that I'm just a grieving sister who's making it all up.

"Jace wanted to know how you were doing," He replies calmly and when I don't respond, he continues, "I called to let you know that if you needed help carrying anything, Jace can help you."

"Thank him for me," My eyes prickle as I stare at a photo of Steph and I on her bedside table.

There's a longer pause from him before he clears his throat, "I'm sorry if this offends you or comes off as unprofessional...but would you mind if I passed your phone number to him? He's been wanting to talk to you—and your parents are worried that you don't have anyone to talk to."