"There's a shifter up in Flagstaff who we think might be from their pack. Old she-wolf. I've asked for a meeting."
"What did she say?"
"I'm waiting to hear. I contacted their alpha. Hopefully he'll get back to me today and I can drive up to talk to her."
"I want to go, too," I say.
My father hesitates, meeting my eyes in the rear view mirror. He gives a single nod.
I'm surprised-I'm used to him keeping me out of the fray. Things are changing.
~.~
Carlos
I storm into Don Jose's office. I've been back for a day and it's time to make some changes around here. "According to my calculations, we pull fifty thousand ounces of silver out of that mine each year and yet we're only selling thirty. Where is the rest of it going?"
Surprise flits over Don Jose's face, but he quickly masks it. "We're selling everything we pull out. What are you insinuating? That someone is stealing half our silver? Impossible." He scoffs and waves his hand, like he wants to shoo me away.
"Come now, Carlos. You've been in a temper since you returned without your female. I know you blame Don Santiago and the rest of us for that failing, but now you're getting paranoid."
I ignore the dig and slap the old ledgers on the desk. "Here are the reports from each mine on their production output." I point at several columns of numbers. "These don't match the reports turned in by Guillermo's team down at the mine." I set a dirty log book from the mine on the desk.
Don Jose picks up the book from the mine and scans the numbers himself, then matches them by month to the log book. His brow furrows before it smooths.
"Who enters these numbers?" I tap the ledger.
"I do," he snaps. "But I don't use these mine logs. I use the reports generated by Don Santiago."
Our eyes meet. Santiago. I know both of us are thinking it. Sonofabitch. He must be using the money for whatever hobby science projects he has going. But Don Jose schools his face and says, "Don Santiago knows what's going on. I'm sure these are raw numbers and the one he enters are the final ones. If there's some discrepancy, the council will review it."
I lunge for him, wrapping his shirt up in a fist under his chin. "You're sure? You're sure about a lot, aren't you? You sure about why and how the wealth of this pack has been drained over the past fifty years, leaving the majority of our people in poverty?"
He doesn't struggle, probably because I would win a physical fight. But he doesn't give me the gratification of getting ruffled, maintaining his calm, condescending demeanor. "You're off-balance, Carlos. Get a grip, or we'll have to medicate you, like your mother."
I slam his head down on the desk, cracking his nose. When I lift him, blood pours over his lips and down his chin. I bring my face right up to his. "Try it," I growl. "Try it and I'll kill every last one of you motherfuckers."
Don Jose gives a forced laugh as he gropes for a handkerchief in his pocket. "You are deranged, Carlos."
"Am I, Jose?" I drop the "Don," because he doesn't deserve the respect it implies. "I'm going to keep turning over rocks until I uncover where half the wealth of our mountain has gone. And you'd better pray I don't link its disappearance to the council."
I turn to stalk out and Don Jose pinches his nose with the handkerchief.
My fight for control has begun.
~.~
Carlos
I head down to the mine to return the logbook. I'm ashamed I haven't spent much time in the mines. I don't know all that goes into it, nor the names and faces of the men who work there. I find Guillermo, the foreman who gave me the logbook working right beside the rest of them.
The mine consists mostly of silver and lead, but originally, when our Spanish ancestors settled here, they mined gold from it, as well.
Guillermo straightens when I come in. He's a huge wolf, face prematurely lined and craggy with hard work. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, taking in my neatly pressed, fine Italian slacks and button down. I look as out of place as a flower in a shit pile here. His eyes land on my collar, and I pull it away from my face to see what he's looking at.
Oh yeah. Some of Don Jose's blood splattered on it. I don't offer any explanation-I don't have to, I'm alpha.
I hold up the log book. "I brought back the records."
Guillermo takes it. I swear I see suspicion under his neutral gaze, but I don't know what it's for. "You find anything… interesting?"
I nod.
I'm not sure how much to share. I don't know who is working for the thief or thieves. I can't say if any wolf here would side with me when I try to bring him or them down. My guess is that the council's behind it, but I need more proof.
"Numbers don't match the council's reports." I opt for the truth and watch the faces around me absorb it.
Some look wary, some angry. Most keep their faces carefully blank, like they're used to covering their thoughts.
Guillermo crosses his arms over his massive chest. "My numbers are good."
"I have no doubt. If anyone here was stealing silver from the pack, you sure as hell wouldn't report it in that log book."
"Stealing from the pack or the council?" one of them mutters. I can't tell who spoke because they all drop their eyes, as if afraid I'll get aggressive.
"The council doesn't own the mountain, the pack does. The wealth that comes out of these mines should be for the benefit of all." I'm campaigning now. If I'm going to make changes around here, I'll need support.