Chapter Text
“It’s an animal attack.” Hera knocked the photos back in place and snapped the case file shut. “It has to be an animal attack. Wolf, by the look of it.”
Kallus was concerningly silent. He only frowned at her with a mildly thoughtful expression, discomforted in the subtle way most people wouldn’t recognize. Hera straightened and met his doubtful gaze with a challenging one of her own. She laced her fingers together.
“You disagree, Lieutenant Kallus?”
His frown deepened. “No,” He hedged. “But I don’t concur. We should wait to say for certain before the coroner’s official report is finished.”
“You suspect a person may be behind this.”
The question not-question seemed to trouble him further. He worked his jaw with a careful caution. “Yes.” He said, after an uneasy pause. “In some way or another. It is a gruesome prospect, but one I can’t rule out—”
Gruesome was a kind word. It was Hera’s word. She’d used that word to describe the series of murders six years ago, the ones with blood missing, all clean cut and drained dry.
“—there’s a pattern here that implies deliberate targeting. Loth wolves aren’t known for such behavior.”
Hera knew that. She hadn’t lived in Lothal long, but she knew that. The city was surrounded by untamed wilderness, and understanding the dangers that came with such a vantage was one of her first responsibilities. In all her time serving here, she’d encountered reports of wolf attacks only twice. Those cases had been isolated, mild, fluke. Nothing like this.
So far, Hera had seven injury reports stacked on her desk. Each case file contained a similar story. Each was more than gruesome. The victims all survived their vicious encounters, but none had the memory or psychological stability to testify what they’d seen. One man had been mauled so irreparably, he’d had to have his arm amputated. Hera hated to have failed her city like this.
But Kallus was right. Something bigger than a savage beast was at work here. The attacks were too organized. And Hera didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but—
Over thirty people had died. Thirty total deaths with proven connections to murder, this murderer. There could be more. There were probably more. Hera hated not knowing how many people she had failed. She hated not knowing what number she would be.
—this was shaping up to be a serial kill streak. No one had died yet, but it was only a matter of time. Someone or thing was clearly attempting to send a message, and if they didn’t figure out what that was as soon as possible, the stakes would climb.
Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of it was the nature of the attacks. They did look like the work of a wild animal. The maulings bore none of the efficiency characteristic for wolf hunts, but the bite wounds in the photos were distinctly canid. Most of the wounds were from bites anyway, with few serious lacerations caused by claws: easily ruling out bears or lions. The puzzle was frustrating to Hera. What could she do? Her detectives and specialists were scrubbing the cases from front to back for clues, swarming the crime scenes where they could, and they had no leads. It had been weeks since the first attack. They hadn’t even caught a wolf yet.
“We need to get provincial rangers in town for this one.” Hera tossed the latest file on its stack with the others. She ran a rough hand over her braids, pushing her scarf out of place, yanking it back with a frustrated tug. “We need to figure out where there are any wolf packs, and we need to monitor them carefully for the time being. That way we’ll at least be sure about one possibility.”
Kallus sighed silently. “Alright. Though I’m sure all they do is set up trail cams. You can’t put a tracking collar on every wolf.”
Hera tried to run. She couldn’t remember how many times she tried to run. The drugs weren’t helping but he knew where she’d be somehow, knew she’d slipped the cellbank, knew she made it outside even if she couldn’t tell herself. He knew where to find her, like he could smell her, like he could track her. The end result would always be the same. She never escaped. He always found her, dragged her back in, snapped one more chain around her limbs. The blood loss was intoxicating.
“They’ve got the resources.” Hera rubbed her temples, trying to ease the pressure in her eyes. “We need to figure something out fast. I can’t let this hang over everyone’s heads.”
“You won’t, Captain. We’ll have this resolved soon.”
“I hope so, Kallus.”
He was quiet for a minute or so as both their minds ran off. Though, he seemed less preoccupied with brainstorming and more interested in challenging Hera.
“...Do you truly think a wolf is what did all this?” He asked after frowning at her pointedly.
Hera couldn’t guess what he was poking at, and she was too confused and frustrated to attempt to make any sense of it. “It has to be a wolf.” She insisted. “What else could it be?”
Kallus’ frown sank in a peculiar way. “I wonder.” He muttered.
If Hera had remembered her setting spray, she would rub both hands down her face. Unfortunately, she needed to remain presentable for the remainder of her employees’ shifts. She needed to look like she was in charge. Not that it had mattered when—
“I’ll notify you if there are any updates.” Kallus stood from the spare seat in front of Hera’s desk and shot her a weighted look that she was still too tired to unpack. “And remember to take a break some time this afternoon.”
“Kanan will probably remember for me.” She grumbled.
“I mean it.”
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Kallus left the office in his brisk, professional way. The urge to peruse those self-same casefiles for the fifteenth time itched at the back of Hera’s neck, but she shook her head roughly and shoved her computer mouse. It wasn’t her job to investigate. Her job was to keep things organized. There was plenty of work to do, even if the animal attacks were deadlocked in a standstill collecting dust on her desk.
She remembered feeling stumped.
By some mandate of the universe, Kanan always managed to help when Hera was stumped. No one would ask for him. Maybe he knew? He’d helped all those years ago, when Hera was alone too. It had been suspicious to find such a prime witness out of nowhere. She’d had her doubts about him right off the bat.
But he was a lead. He led her to the end of the case. The closing act, for all of them.
Hera needed a distraction. She was stumped and frustrated, and she needed a distraction, and Kanan was the best person to call for every part of how she felt now.
She felt scared. She remembered that. She'd been afraid and she missed Kanan and Vidian had liked—
"Hey," Kanan answered his phone on the second ring. His voice was gentle and soothing and it felt like a hug to Hera's rattled brain. "What's up?"
The flashbacks were expected, even years after everything that happened. Hera had episodes sometimes. It was bad when she was stressed. It would get worse; she could tell it would get worse today, and she didn't want to have a breakdown here at work when there were more important things to do. Kanan would help take her mind off the memory.
Hera pushed the unease deep down her throat. She was a police captain. She could be composed.
"Lunch?" She offered. A lame proposal that could stand to have more words involved. But Kanan of all people would understand.
"Sure." He must have heard the uncomfortable tone in her voice, because he didn't sound characteristically delighted by the prospect—only amicable. Hera appreciated the minute gesture. "Want me to pick you up?"
"Please."
Kanan was a regular at the precinct: a familiar face. He walked straight in and came to Hera’s office, knocking gently on her glass door. It felt like a rescue.
Hera’s gut was churning, and a sour taste curdled on the back of her tongue. Briskly, she gathered her purse and rose from her desk. She smoothed her silk shirt. Nothing of an appetite had compelled her to invite Kanan out, but the office was beginning to suffocate just the slightest bit, and the day was halfway over. It made sense. Kanan could always eat, anyway.
He escorted her quietly to his car, seeming to sense how off she must be feeling. “You up for tacos?” He prompted once they’d buckled in. Hera liked his car. It was discreetly stylish, and far more comfortable than any mustang she’d ridden in.
“Sounds good.”
“You know I can tell something’s bothering you. I’m all ears.”
“It’s just work.” Hera sighed. But his offer meant a lot anyway. She turned the radio on and flipped to Kanan’s favorite station. They drove the rest of the way in silence.