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He shrugs. “I have money in this world. I just don’t use it. Never saw the need.”

I watch him carefully count the bills before paying the man, and I smile softly.

Derrick isn’t fond of the spicy chocolate apple, but Cedric, for some reason, shares his son’s peculiar taste. He wants to go back for a second one, but I refuse. There’s a lot to eat here, and if Cedric gets a second apple, Finn will want one as well.

My son is pulling Cedric along by the hand, and he is following him without a complaint. I purposefully guide us toward the darker areas and check my watch. My eyes search the designated meetup spot, and then I see him. A tall man wearing a trench coat.

I make sure that Finn is distracted before I touch Cedric’s arm. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He nods, and I slip away. I make my way to a fried potato vendor where they are selling everything from French fries to tornado swirls. After getting some fries, I stand next to a small, round table near the stall. The man in the trench coat approaches me, holding his own paper plate filled with fries.

He stops next to me and sighs. “Marcy has me on a diet. If she sees me eating these, she’ll kill me.”

“A diet?” I study the gray-haired man. “What for?”

“My heart. Apparently she dreamed that I died of a heart attack. God forbid. But I should be so lucky. If I eat one more baked kale chip, I’ll shoot myself in the chest.”

I chuckle. “She’s just worried about you.”

“Look at me.” The man gestures with his arms. To humor him, I do so.

Tall with a trim figure that doesn’t give away his age, George Hammel is in his late fifties and deputy commissioner of the local police. Normally, our paths would never have crossed, but the fates have their own plans, and I ended up meeting George when I saved his life from a rabid rogue shifter.

Rogue shifters are rare among our kind, and no one knows how they become rabid. George had been in the woods with his sons when the shifter attacked him. I happened to be nearby with Finn. I had been teaching my son how to shift forms when I heard the sound of children screaming.

I ended up killing the shifter, not an easy task but one that became necessary when it turned its attention toward my own son. However, the injuries that I sustained in the process had me shifting back to my human form. I remember how George bandaged me up and helped me back to the city. His children were too young to understand what they had seen, but their father did.

George found my address in my wallet and made sure I got home and into Maya’s care before he left. I intended to tell Erik about my run-in with the man, but I didn’t know who he was. The next time I bumped into him was when I was trying to search for police files on a certain case.

Since then, for all these years, George has kept my secret, and he has helped me with a lot of my investigations. In return, I’ve helped him with a few of his. It’s an odd friendship, but one that is mutually beneficial.

“You look completely healthy,” I announce after my visual inspection of the man. “How are the boys?”

“Nate has started high school.” George looks proud. “Ben is in his last year of middle school. I don’t know how they grew up so fast. How’s Finn? Did you bring him with you?”

He looks around, and I smile. “He’s with his father.”

George appears surprised. “I didn’t know his father was in the picture.”

“He wasn’t. This is a recent development.”

The older man clears his throat. “And you? Are the two of you…”

My smile widens. “We’re working things out. I’m considering moving to be near him.”

George frowns in disapproval. “Why do you have to move? He should be the one to come to you. Finn’s life should not be disrupted.”

I chuckle. “Unfortunately, his job is not conducive to relocation. And I think Finn will be happy.”

“Have you asked him?”

I give him a blank look. “Asked whom?”

“Finn.”

“Asked him what?”

“Whether he wants to move.” George raises his eyebrows at me. “I know he’s a child, but you should involve him in your decision. Otherwise, there could be room for resentment.”

Thoughtful now, I study him. “I didn’t consider that. From everything he has said, I think he would really want to go there. But I probably should discuss it with him.”

George nods. “Children are very perceptive and sensitive to enormous changes like this. If you involve them in the decision-making, or at least let them think they have a say, they accept the change more easily. At least, that’s what I’ve learned.” He fumbles in his coat pocket and then says, “Here,” as he hands me a flash drive. “I couldn’t get the physical files, but since the departments have started digitizing everything, I have images of everything you need.”

I stare at the flash drive, my blood starting to pound between my ears. “If this is what I think it is, George, I’m going to need to see the evidence.”

He gives me a brief smile. “Don’t worry. That can be arranged.”

I pocket the flash drive. “How long have you been looking into this?”

He thinks for a few seconds before answering. “We have had a file open on an active serial killer for about three years now. The same red circle with cell phones and wallets. Missing persons, no immediate family to contact. If I had known this was linked to your work, I’d have given the evidence to you much earlier. My detectives are coming up empty-handed.”

“Wait, no immediate family?” I go still.

He shakes his head. “Parents deceased, no siblings, no partners, just a handful of friends. No one in their life who would notice them missing. It’s a pattern.”

“How many open cases do you have?” I ask numbly.

“Around fifty, give or take.”

My blood goes cold. “You said serial killer,” I murmur after a moment. “Does that mean you found bodies?”

George munches on his fries, unaware of my inner turmoil. “We found two. Restraint marks on their wrists and ankles. Massive bruising, signs of torture, needle marks in places you wouldn’t think to look. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to conduct autopsies because both bodies disappeared from the morgue. It was evident that they hadn’t died in the custody of the killer. They had escaped somehow. We found both bodies within hours of each other. It seemed like they had escaped at the same time and had gone in different directions. From the pattern of fresh bruising on their bodies, we could tell that when they were running, they were not very coordinated or balanced.”

My appetite is gone. I stare at the table. “If they had escaped, they should’ve shifted. Why didn’t they?”

“Do you think they were unable to?” George had one rule when we began working together. He wanted to know as little about my world as possible. This is the first time he has asked me a question like this.

“I’ve never heard of such a case,” I say slowly. “This changes everything.” I glance up at him. “If I need to see their clothing or whatever else you have in evidence—”

“Just give me a call.”