“I want to help you, Dylan, but I need you to tell me what happened.” Sloane tapped the screen, placed the tablet on the table, and tapped Record. “From the beginning.”
Dylan let out a heavy sigh. “Around noon, Alicia sent me a text saying she wasn’t going to yoga because she wasn’t feeling well. I was worried. I called her up to see how she was and if she wanted me to bring her something on my way home from work. She didn’t answer. I tried texting, calling, e-mailing, everything. I started to panic. Something was wrong. I could feel it.”
Sloane frowned. “How?”
“I just knew. It was like this ache deep in my soul. It got worse and worse until I felt like it was trying to tear me apart from the inside out. And after the seizure she had a couple of weeks before, I was terrified she was about to have another episode.”
Sloane’s head shot up. “Seizure?”
Dylan nodded. “Yes. A few weeks ago, she suffered a seizure with convulsions. I’d never been so scared in my life. I called 911, and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors ran all kinds of tests but said the results might take some time.”
Was it possible? Sloane pushed back the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Dylan, did you mark your wife? Were you two bonded?”
Dylan swallowed hard before nodding. “A few months ago. On our honeymoon. I was afraid to. I didn’t want to hurt her, but she wanted to so bad. I wanted it too.” He looked up at Sloane, the agony in his green eyes hard to ignore. “I would have given my life for her, Agent Brodie. She was everything to me. My whole life.” His bottom lip trembled, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Sloane brought up his interoffice messenger and sent a message to Hudson asking him to request Alicia Reynolds’s test results for the seizure she had a few weeks ago. Hudson replied with an acknowledgment. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Except Sloane had a hard time believing in coincidences lately.
Alicia Reynolds was a Human, marked and bonded by her Therian husband. Not long after being marked, she had a seizure. Why? What the hell happened? Then there was the fact that Dylan had supposedly mauled his wife to death.
Either Dylan Reynolds was an exceptional actor, or something wasn’t right. Could someone who’d marked their mate truly murder them? There were times when Sloane feared he’d lose control, but his fear came with the possibility of hurting someone else, never Dex. Sloane would turn his claws on himself before he hurt Dex. The thought startled him, and he was grateful for the knock that jolted him out of his thoughts.
Dex walked in, his expression stoic as he leaned to whisper in Sloane’s ear.
Alicia Reynolds had been pregnant.
Sloane closed his eyes for a moment, getting his bearings before nodding to Dex.
“Thanks.”
Dex nodded. He turned to leave when Dylan sniffed the air. His gaze darted to Dex as he left the room before Dylan turned his wide eyes back to Sloane. He leaned forward, his voice quiet.
“Tell me, Agent Brodie. Would you ever hurt him?”
Sloane cleared his throat and tapped away at his tablet. “You said something was wrong with your wife. What happened then?”
“You’d sooner die than hurt him, wouldn’t you? The thought of him in pain tears at your heart, like your feral half is sinking its claws into you, as if it would rather destroy you than physically harm him.”
“Dylan,” Sloane insisted. “What happened next?”
Dylan pressed his lips together before letting out a heart-wrenching sigh. “I left work early. When I got home, her car was parked out front, and everything looked normal. The door was locked, windows closed. The moment I stepped foot inside the house I tore at my clothes. I couldn’t… I couldn’t control my Therian half. I went feral.”
“What did you see?”
“It wasn’t what I saw, Agent Brodie. It was what I smelled. Alicia’s blood. So much blood. Enough for my feral half to know she was dead, but my Human side refused to believe it. My vision grew sharp, and I tried to fight it, but when I entered the kitchen and saw the trail of blood, I… I shifted. I followed the blood and found—”
Dylan broke down, tears streaming down his cheeks. Sloane swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. Could Dylan be telling the truth? The guy was distraught, on the verge of losing his grasp on the fine thread of his sanity. It was either the greatest performance Sloane had ever seen, or Dylan Reynolds was telling the truth, which then brought up the question. If Dylan didn’t kill his wife, who did? And why were they trying to frame Dylan?
Once Dylan got a hold of himself enough to speak, he continued. “I found what was left of her in the living room. For a split second, I considered joining her.” He looked up at Sloane. “You have no idea what the loss feels like, and I hope you never find out, Agent Brodie.”
Sloane couldn’t bring himself to respond, so he continued. “Then what happened?”
“I lost track of time. I was numb. At a loss. In my Felid state, I couldn’t think of what to do, so I just stood there, over her, wailing like the wounded animal I was.”
“Do you know of any Therians who might have wanted to hurt your wife?”
Dylan shook his head. “Everyone loved Alicia. She was the sweetest, kindest person. She was a therapist, working with Therian children down at the hospital. Those kids loved her.” He shut his eyes tight and wiped at his nose. “They’re going to be devastated.”
“Was she having an affair?”