The drive to the victim’s house was quiet. Callum focused on the road, his grip tight on the wheel, while Emery glanced at the case notes again.

Isaac Hale’s home was in a quiet neighborhood—a modern two-story house with a neatly kept yard. The air was still, almost unnaturally so.

Callum killed the engine. “Let me do the talking.”

Emery rolled his eyes. “I get it, you don’t trust me yet.”

“Damn right, I don’t.” Callum stepped out of the car.

Emery followed, adjusting his tie as they approached the door. Callum knocked firmly. A few seconds later, the door cracked open, revealing a woman with tired, red-rimmed eyes.

Aileen Hale. Omega. Widow.

She clutched the edge of the door, hesitating. “Detectives?”

Callum gave a curt nod. “Mrs. Hale, we need to ask you some questions about your husband.”

Her fingers tightened. “I—” She glanced behind her, as if debating whether to let them in.

Emery softened his voice. “We know this is difficult, but we’re trying to find the person who did this. We need your help.”

Aileen hesitated, then sighed. “Come in.”

Inside the Hale Residence

The house was clean, but there was an undeniable emptiness in the air. A child’s backpack rested on the couch. Family photos lined the walls, reminders of what had been taken from them.

Aileen led them to the living room and sat down stiffly. “Ask what you need to.”

Callum pulled out a notepad. “Was Isaac acting differently before he died? Did he seem worried? Did he mention anything unusual?”

Aileen shook her head. “No… He was fine. He was working on a sculpture commission. Busy, but normal.”

Emery leaned forward. “Did he ever mention someone bothering him? A client? A rival? Anyone making him uncomfortable?”

Again, she hesitated. “No, I don’t think so.”

Callum’s sharp eyes caught the pause. “You’re not sure.”

Aileen looked away. “It’s just… A few weeks ago, he got a letter. No return address. I never saw what was inside. He crumpled it up and threw it away. When I asked, he just said it was nonsense.”

Emery and Callum exchanged a look.

“Where did he throw it?” Callum asked.

“The kitchen trash.”

Callum exhaled. That meant it was long gone.

Emery tried a different approach. “Mrs. Hale, we’ve noticed something about the crime scene. A sculpture of Isaac’s is missing.”

Aileen blinked. “Missing?”

“Yes,” Emery said. “Do you know what he was working on before he died?”

Aileen’s brows furrowed in thought. “He had just finished a piece… It was for a private buyer, but he never told me who.”

Callum’s jaw tightened. “Do you remember what the sculpture looked like?”

Aileen hesitated. “I never saw it completed. But I remember him saying it was ‘special.’ Something he had never done before.”

Emery frowned. “Would there be any records of the buyer?”

Aileen shook her head. “Isaac handled his own clients.”

Callum cursed under his breath.

Then a small voice interrupted.

“Mom?”

A young boy stood at the top of the stairs—Isaac and Aileen’s son, Owen. His dark eyes were fixed on Callum and Emery, his small hands gripping the railing.

Aileen immediately stood. “Owen, go back to your room, sweetheart.”

The boy didn’t move. His gaze was locked on Callum. “Are you gonna catch the bad guy?”

Callum exhaled. He had no patience for this. “We’re trying.”

Owen didn’t look satisfied. “My dad was really strong. He wouldn’t let a bad guy hurt him.”

Aileen’s face twisted with pain. “Owen—”

Emery, sensing the tension, crouched slightly to meet Owen’s eye level. “Your dad was very strong.” His voice was gentler than Callum’s. “And we’re going to do everything we can to find out who did this.”

Owen studied Emery for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

Aileen ushered him back upstairs, and Callum took the chance to stand. “That’s enough for now.”

Aileen turned back, eyes weary. “Will you keep me updated?”

Callum hesitated. Then he nodded.

Emery placed a card on the table. “If you remember anything, even if it seems small, call us.”

Aileen nodded.

Callum and Emery left without another word.

Lunch Break – An Unlikely Pairing

After leaving the Hale residence, Callum drove to a small diner near the station. He hadn’t invited Emery—he just expected him to follow.

Inside, Callum ordered a simple sandwich, rejecting half the menu with disinterest. Emery, on the other hand, ordered enthusiastically, stacking his tray with different dishes.

“You eat like a starving college student,” Callum muttered.

Emery grinned. “I like food. And unlike you, I don’t treat eating like a chore.”

Callum rolled his eyes and took a slow bite of his sandwich while Emery happily dug into his meal. They sat in relative silence until Emery’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and instantly smiled.

“Hey, Dad.”

Callum raised an eyebrow at the sudden warmth in Emery’s voice.

“No, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll visit this weekend,” Emery assured. “Yes, I’m eating properly. No, I’m not overworking myself. Yes, my partner is tolerable.”

Callum scoffed at that, but Emery just grinned.

After a few more words, Emery hung up, still smiling.

“You’re close with your dad,” Callum noted.

Emery shrugged. “He raised me on his own. Omega single dad raising an Alpha son? Not easy. But he did his best.”

Callum hummed, staring at his plate. He didn’t comment.

Emery tilted his head. “What about your parents?”

Callum’s expression immediately shut down. “Not your business.”

Emery didn’t push. “Fair enough.”

They finished their meal in silence, but something about the conversation lingered in the air. Callum wasn’t sure why, but for the first time since meeting Emery, he didn’t find his presence entirely annoying.

Emery, on the other hand, just smiled to himself.

He’d crack Callum’s walls. One way or another.