Connor and the Wolves - 17. Crime and Punishment

The key to any good crime was preparation. Luckily for Connor, he’d cased the scene of the crime extensively over the years.
At least, he’d seen the security footage his mother had as the head of security for Riverview Meadows. And through that, he knew exactly where the cameras were placed.
Connor strolled through the gate. He directed his feet toward the bus stop, fighting the urge to wave at a camera. Act natural. He was just going to school, not plotting anything.
Ducking behind the bus shelter, he took a deep breath. He was now off Emma’s radar. A dark hoodie pulled over his torso, and Connor wrapped the hood around his head. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he grabbed a can of spray paint and stencils from his bag.
He left the bag at the shelter. It was too recognisable. Using a row of bushes planted against the community’s wall, Connor hurried back toward the gate and his target.
The Riverview Meadows sign sat in a pool of light. At least two cameras remained on it at all times. If either one of the cameras caught him, he could expect his mother’s rage.
But she was sleeping off a night shift. There was no one watching the cameras now. By the time Connor returned to Riverview Meadows, the trail would long be cold.
He passed the sign, staying out of camera range. A bus hissed at the stop, and Connor hung back, waiting for the bus to pass before putting his plan into action.
Doubling back, he made sure the cameras caught him coming from the wrong direction. There was no need for stealth now. He had at least fifteen minutes before the next bus came, and this early in the morning, there was no traffic on the road.
Ten heart-pounding minutes later, it was done. Connor strolled down the road, heading toward a stoplight. He crossed the street and backtracked, before sprinting across the road to the bus stop. Now his mom wouldn’t be able to use the traffic cameras to find him, and she’d think the person who wrote the graffiti had gone the other way. There was still the problem of getting rid of the evidence, but Connor had that all planned out, too.
He stuffed a plastic bag with the stencils, paint can, and gloves. His sweatshirt went into his bag. Finally, Connor leaned back in the bus shelter, waiting for the next bus.

The plastic bag clanged in the empty dumpster. Connor hurried toward Quarian Academy, balling up his sweatshirt. He tossed it into a donation box near the office. Problem solved. And someone would get an almost-new sweater out of Connor’s crime. Not bad for a morning’s work.
He doubted there had actually been paint on the sweatshirt, and there were probably hundreds that looked just like it. But it paid to be cautious.
Pushing the morning’s events from his mind, Connor stopped by his locker to drop off his bag. He hurried back outside, waving at Brienne as he passed. There were five more minutes before he’d be stuck in class, and he wanted to make the most of his freedom.
The arrival of Jason, Devyn, and Dylan definitely promised to help with that.
“Hey! It’s Cat 1 and Cat 2!” Connor grinned as he hurried toward the trio. He froze in his tracks as Dylan snarled at him. Beside the calico, Jason’s fur puffed out. “Whoa, hey, calm down. What got under your tails?”
“They’re not cats,” Devyn growled at him. “Don’t call them that.”
“Shit, why didn’t anyone tell me you didn’t like that?” Connor frowned sheepishly. For fuck’s sake, he was in a neko guild, and his screen name was CatDog. Someone should have said something. “Sorry, you two. Guess I’ll stick with Dogmeat, huh?”
He withered under Jason’s glower. Why did he keep pissing the grey neko off?
“It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for…” Trying to pull the heat off him, Connor motioned back toward the school. “Oh, by the way, Brienne’s waiting by the lockers. I think she wants the two of you to fight for her honour.”
“Or she’s plotting to get us to kiss,” Dylan muttered, glancing at Jason.
“Ha! I knew she was into c- nekos,” Connor corrected carefully. “Fuck. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to apply blunt trauma to my head until I get a certain word out of my mind.”
Jason leaned forward, his hands moving as he smirked. Connor watched him motion to his head in mild confusion before he realised the neko was signing to him.
“What was that, Dogmeat? I didn’t hear you,” the human grinned.
“How do you know it was bad? Maybe he was saying something about wanting to make out with you,” Dylan leered.
Jason shook his head, scowling at Dylan.
“Well, if there’s no kissing to be had, I’ll see you two on the track. I hear we’re doing sledges today,” Connor said, heading back toward the school.
He pulled out his phone, opening PackTalk.
‘Sharp, why the fuck didn’t you tell me cat was a slur?’
The bell chimed, and Connor stuffed his phone back in his pants. Hurrying to calculus, he slid into his seat near the front of the class. One last glance at his phone showed no sign of a reply from SharpCat, and Connor turned his attention to the class at hand.

‘It varies by person.’
Connor sighed as he read SharpCat’s message. Who knew how many people he’d offended with his gamer tag? He had to change it.
Leaning against a water fountain, he watched Brienne pull a weighted sledge down the track. Jason and Dylan were absent yet again, but Connor noticed Devyn was missing as well this time.
‘It’s not a big deal for me. Actually, most Ythins don’t seem to mind it. It’s more of a problem with Niwos, as they had more contact with elves at the turn of the millennium. I can’t speak for the Askani, but I would imagine they hold with the Ythin view.’
“But I really shouldn’t be using it,” Connor typed, keeping an eye on the track.
“Connor! Off the phone!”
He dropped his phone on a nearby bench, jogging up the track a moment later. Brienne dragged the sledge past him, dropping it back at the starting line. With any luck, they’d get a second sledge this year so two runners could face off, but for now, the track team was forced to take turns when working on acceleration.
Connor dropped a five-pound plate on the sledge. Ignoring Brienne’s smirk, he pulled on the harness.
“You sure you want that extra five pounds?”
“Hey, no pain, no gain.”
Ignoring her eye-roll, Connor crouched at the starting cone. Twenty metres away, another cone sat — the goal of the exercise. The harness sat taut on his chest, holding him back.
Connor rose into a starting crouch. Alistair’s whistle shattered the air, and he took off.
Instantly, the twenty-pound weight dragged at him. He heard the sledge scrape over the track as he pulled it. The weight was nowhere near enough to stop him, nor was that the point. Instead, it pushed him to use more power in his acceleration, and by the time he reached the end cone, Connor was flying down the track.
Slowing to a walk, he grabbed the sledge, walking it back to the start. Connor handed the harness to one of the distance runners — Rose? He really needed to ask her name, but the sprinters never really talked to the distance runners. Fuck, even when he tried hurdles last year, he barely made a scratch on their stony facades. The team was here to practice, not socialise.
Connor stretched a bit more while he waited for his next turn. On the other side of the track, he could see the wolf sprinters echoing their workout with the school’s second sledge. He scanned the wolves, trying to pick out Emry among the blacks, reds, and greys.
Three runs later, Connor dropped on the track. Grasping his feet, he leaned forward, easing the burn in his calves. Twenty pounds might have been pushing it, but five pounds was their smallest plate.
“Considering that half of our sprinters decided to skip yet again,” Alistair grumbled as the team worked through their after-workout stretches, “we’re probably going to struggle for points this year. Everyone needs to be at their best. No slacking off.”
“Dylan messaged me earlier,” Brienne spoke up. “He and Jason were sent home because of Miranda.”
Alistair rolled his eyes.
“The gods save me from racist bullshit…” he growled.
“It makes sense.” Connor shrugged. “Why would the only two nekos in the school want to hang out if an elf might try to attack them over a criminal being released?”
And why hadn’t Emma said anything about the Elfslayer being released? The neko had single-handedly murdered the queen and her entire council. Maybe King Finley was trying to keep the release quiet, but there was no way a high-profile prisoner like that could go free without making waves.
The team broke up. Connor headed to the locker room, rinsing off quickly before rushing to catch the bus. With any luck, River would be awake by the time he got home, and they could cook dinner before Connor had to start on his homework.

His heart dropped at the sight of the black Eagle outside the apartment complex.
Connor took a deep breath. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe someone had just randomly decided to park a car worth a year’s rent outside a rundown building. Because they were made of money and wanted to share their fortune with anyone brave enough to steal the car.
Yeah, he couldn’t convince himself.
Dragging his feet, Connor took the stairs to the third floor, delaying the inevitable. His legs were screaming by the time he reached the apartment, but he still had to fight the urge to go for a long walk around the block.
He opened the door.
“Hands,” Emma demanded before he could even get inside.
River stood behind her, scowling at Connor. Connor noticed he kept a good two metres between himself and the werewolf.
“For?” Connor asked, dropping his bag on the floor.
He showed his hands, clean of any dirt… or paint. Emma’s nose flared — crap, he hadn’t accounted for a wolf’s nose!
Raising an eyebrow, Emma pulled out her phone. She flicked across the screen before turning it toward Connor. Across the Riverview Meadows sign, neat stenciling spelled out, “Oh no, your upperclass neighbourhood has writing on it!”
Connor couldn’t help it. He snorted.
“Don’t you dare laugh!” Emma snapped.
She knelt down, yanking Connor’s bag open.
“So you think I did it then?” Connor asked.
“No one else has a motive.” Digging through the bag, Emma yanked out a plastic bag.
“Careful with that,” Connor grumbled. “I didn’t paint the sign. You’re not going to find anything nefarious in my bag.”
Emma sighed as she held up a CeCe’s container.
“I thought I told you to get lunch at school.”
It was a stroke of luck, really. The smell of the food would cover up any lingering scent from the paint. Not that Connor was careless enough to get any paint in the bag.
Dropping the food back in the bag, Emma glowered at her son.
“I don’t suppose you got a glimpse of the tagger,” she said. “The cameras point to them hitting the sign barely a minute after the bus left.”
“Trust me, if I’d seen anything, I would have sent it to my friends. Especially something that good.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t tag that sign.”
Connor frowned at his mother.
“You want me to stare a werewolf in the eye?”
“That’s enough, Emma,” River snapped. “There is no evidence he did anything wrong… other than eating junk food.”
“Fine. I should leave before someone tries to steal my car, anyway.” Emma stalked toward the door. “Oh, Connor. Arithal suggested you get involved in community service. I volunteered you to clean the sign. I’m sure an upstanding member of the community will have no problem spending the weekend to repaint the sign.”
Connor’s eyes widened.
“I have my first race on Varyal!”
“Then I suggest you make the most of Urdyal afternoon,” Emma said before leaving the apartment.
River huffed as the door closed. Casting a withering glare at Connor, his grizzled face suddenly broke into a grin.
“Gods bless it, that was hilarious.”
“What?”
“That sign. Granted, I’m not thrilled that Emma barged in here like she did, but it was almost worth it just to see your tag.”
“It wasn’t mine.” Connor sighed, digging the leftovers from lunch out of his bag.
He knew exactly what River was doing. Play along, try to get the suspect to slip up. Then, both River and Emma would have Connor’s head. It was rare for the two to work together, but when they did, they were good.
“Oh, come on,” River scoffed. “Didn’t I teach you to take pride in your work?”
“Speaking of which, I have a lot of homework I need to do.” Connor shoved the container into the fridge.
“Later,” River said. “I want to head to the bookstore.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. River couldn’t handle the light of day, and the sun still hadn’t set. Worse, the only bookstores he could go to were ones open at night. The only stores that catered to night shoppers were werewolf owned. Was he really going to deal with another werewolf?
“Let me put my bag away and I’ll be ready.”
“Great. While you’re at it, you can tell me how you got away with your crime. That sign is covered with cameras, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Which makes it rather strange that Mom couldn’t figure out who did it. I’m sure the cameras would have caught something.”
“Still maintaining your innocence?” River watched him shove the bag into the bedroom. “You realise the only punishment you’ll get is basically what you’ll be doing anyway, right?”
“So I should admit to a crime I didn’t commit?” Connor stared at his father, meeting River’s steely gaze. “I didn’t do it.”
“And you don’t know who did. No one comes to mind.”
“No one.”
River sighed, slipping his eyepatch on. Grabbing a pair of sunglasses, he motioned toward the door.
“Fine. Let’s go. I want to be home early.”