Shadow Wolf (Wolf of My Heart Book 7)

by Linda Palmer

  I winced. Was I that transparent? "How can you ever be sure?"

  "It's called trust. Not all men cheat, Lily."

  "Just the ones I date?" Pitiful sigh.

  She gave me a sympathetic smile. "So far, yeah. Don't give up yet, though. There are other Theos out there."

  "Hmph! If he's so perfect, what's the problem?"

  "Theo got into some trouble when he was a teenager. I don't know exactly what kind. He won't talk about it, but I can't help wondering if his past is now catching up with him. I know I said he was stressed, but honestly I'm not sure another s word is really more appropriate: scared. I think Theo is frightened of something and not just for himself. He's absolutely anal about me doing anything alone, which is part of the reason I'm so stoked that you're here."

  That didn't match the carefree guy I knew. "Really?"

  "Really. And me being clueless is why I'm grasping at straws, I guess."

  "That and the fact that you're living in a Borden House." I referred to Lizzie Borden's supposedly haunted home in Massachusetts. We'd visited it during my after-graduation road trip, a gift from my Aunt Sarah. Neecy enjoyed the tour in spite of her certainty that the spirit of Lizzie lurked behind every door and had a very real ax. "Maybe this place has ghosts, and Theo is afraid you'll find out."

  Neecy pounded me with her pillow.

  I squealed and ducked. "It could be."

  "It's." Bam. "Not." Bam, bam.

  Of course I grabbed a pillow of my own and returned the blows, resulting in both us laughing so hard that I nearly wet my pants. Theo popped in and turned on the overhead light. "I give up high def so you two can watch some quality TV. What do you do? Try to kill each other."

  Simultaneously, Neecy and I hurled our pillows at him. We laughed for the longest time, and when I finally I crawled into my gorgeous bed, I felt pretty good about my decision to leave Little Rock. As for Neecy's worries, well, all I could do was wait and watch until I had enough information to form an opinion.

  *****

  I woke up oddly nervous on Monday. First-day jitters, no doubt. The good thing about my line of work was being able to dress casually. Neecy had lavender T-shirts with Ah Spa on them. I paired it with skinny jeans and boots. Light makeup and straightened hair finished things up.

  We ate cereal for breakfast. Theo, wearing khakis and a plaid shirt, had his nose buried in the newspaper and couldn't help commenting on what he read. "There's been another break-in downtown."

  "How many is that?" Neecy asked.

  "Three in the past two months."

  "Sounds like a crime wave to me." I was teasing, but neither of them smiled.

  "When you consider all the other stuff that's happening," Neecy said, "it kind of is."

  "What other stuff?"

  Theo answered. "A stolen car, a couple of convenience store hold ups, and some senseless vandalism—broken windows, shot up highway signs, rude graffiti."

  I sighed. "And I thought I was getting away from all that."

  "The times are definitely changing. Why, I remember when…"

  I let Theo's words wash over me and barely listened for a couple of reasons. There was a very good chance I'd heard his story before since he and Neecy had dated for years, as opposed to my last boyfriend and me with our off-and-on three. I couldn't help but wonder if the increase in crime was the reason for Theo's mysterious worries. It would be natural for him to be anxious for his sweet wife's safety.

  *****

  I followed Neecy to work so neither of us would be tied down by the lack of a ride. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't a building that had obviously been around a while. Instead of trying to modernize the exterior, my cousin had wisely hired someone to paint an abstract mural on the areas without brick, resulting in a really nice design. I loved the interior décor, in particular the customer lounge, which had an old time soda counter with bar stools and a huge popcorn trolley.

  Most beauty shops were closed on Mondays, but not Ah Spa since it also offered tanning, nails, and massages. Neecy explained the appointment calendar and asked if she could book for me when I wasn't there. I assured her that she could. To my surprise, I actually had two appointments scheduled for that day. The rest of the week was pretty much bare, but she promised to introduce me to everyone who came in. After that, I left her to do her thing while I explored a little.

  The first room I entered from the hall behind the reception area had three stations with mirrors and hydraulic chairs. I saw two sinks for shampoos. Past that room was a restroom, and just beyond it, an area for facials, manicures, and pedicures.

  My work spot was across the hall. Small, but big enough for my needs, the room had a closet well stocked with the oils and lotions I'd requested, linens and pillows, and a CD player. Neecy had provided a really nice massage table, and one sniff of the air told me she believed in aromatherapy. I felt much more relaxed as I prepared the table and laid a pillow and folded sheet on it. I went up front to see if I could help with anything. Neecy asked me to spray down the tanning beds with disinfectant. I realized they were tucked in a room I'd missed when exploring.

  One-by-one the other women who worked there arrived, five total. Neecy introduced me to each, and I mentally filed their names. They were all young, energetic, and talkative. Hairdos ranged from spiky to long, so my straightened look fit right in.

  The noise level rose as customers began to come in. I hung around the reception area with Angie, the receptionist, meeting and greeting until my very first client showed up at ten, along with her Asian bodyguard. She introduced herself as Mara Foster and him as Kimiyama Yosio, but laughingly called him Akita. Yeah, like the dog breed. I introduced myself and led her to the massage room and shut the door against spa hustle and bustle.

  Where her bodyguard went, I didn't know. It was hard to imagine him sitting in the reception area, reading Hair's How or Hair Factory Men. I mean the guy had his black hair buzzed on the sides and longer on top, a current male look. I guessed him to be in his late twenties. H-o-t pretty much described everything else about him.

  Mara, on the other hand, couldn't have been much older than I. Curvy with a sweet smile, she didn't speak until I handed her a soft blue linen sheet. "I'm so glad there's something new to do around here."

  So she wasn't there because her muscles were in knots. Or maybe she was. Although I didn't know her that well, I could see she had dark circles under her eyes, and she seemed a little on edge. "I'll step out so you can undress. Besides your outer clothing, take off as much as you're comfortable doing without. Tap this bell when you're ready."

  She did.

  I found her on her back and fully covered by a sheet by when I joined her.

  "Do you mind?" I showed her the scrunchie I held.

  "Not at all."

  I gathered up her highlighted hair and secured it off her neck and shoulders. Practice-makes-perfect quickly kicked in as I sat on my rolling stool and began a neck and shoulder massage, using techniques I'd learned at school. I didn't talk. How could she ever relax if I did?

  But peace and relaxation apparently weren't on Mara's agenda. "How long have you been in Moonrise Ridge?"

  I told her.

  "We moved here from New York for the lighter winters almost two years ago. I say 'we,' but I really mean just me and, of course, Akita." She heaved a sigh. "JT—that's my husband—owns several houses in the US. He thought I'd like this one and swears he'll be joining me soon, but he's been saying that since I got here. The place is way too quiet—almost creepy—but he won't even talk to me about inviting my old friends or his kids from his past marriages. I'd like to get to know them better."

  "What about your own family?"

  "JT and my family don't like each other much."

  Ouch. "Where is he now?"

  "I never know exactly. Working on some big, secret project, I'm sure. He's currently owner and head of a very elite security company. Before that, he built houses for the rich and famous
. Maybe you've heard of him. Jonathan Tanner Paxton?"

  I shook my head. "You don't have the same last name."

  "No. I actually wanted to change mine, but he said people might think I was his daughter." She laughed softly. "He was joking, of course. Though he is older than me, he looks younger than he is. I think the real reason he wants me to keep my own name is because his work is sometimes dangerous."

  "Is that why you have a bodyguard?"

  "Yes. Seems ridiculous to have one around here, doesn't it? I get so many odd looks. It's kind of embarrassing."

  "Ignore them. Your husband obviously loves you, or he wouldn't hire one."

  She gave me a gorgeous smile. "You're as sweet as Denise said. Maybe you should come over sometime and swim with me. We'll have a nice dinner afterward. Our place is in the middle of nowhere and perfectly gorgeous, though I could use a few less windows. Every time I see wolves or deer, I'm reminded how far I am from civilization."

  I tried not to laugh. "I'm pretty sure there aren't any wolves in Missouri." I'd written a paper on endangered species during my senior year and thoroughly researched them.

  "Tell that to the ones I saw Sunday."

  Certain she'd seen stray dogs or coyotes, I didn't argue. "Would you like some music?"

  "Got any Ed Sheeran, Keith Urban, Sia, or Adele?"

  We were definitely going to get along, I decided, as I went to the closet to check out Neecy's collection.

  Chapter Four

  Cade

  I liked working as a computer tech, though day jobs weren't my fave. This time it was an accountant's office in town. Since his staff had to stay on their computers, I couldn't shut down the whole system. So I worked with it live, always tricky.

  After that, I went to the local doc and got my cast removed. Man, was that a relief. Flesh that had been under it looked pasty white and undernourished, but I didn't mind. It had been damned inconvenient having only one good arm. I was thrilled to have two again.

  When the doctor released me around five, I drove home and threw some bologna on a piece of bread before I climbed the stairs to my rented room. I ate without tasting it, my butt planted on my bed, my thoughts on Lily Vincent, a girl I couldn't get out of my head. Even Mike and what he had planned for us tonight didn't particularly worry me, and not because I'd grown used to helping the pack misbehave.

  I hated it every single time we robbed a gas station, graffitied a building, or snagged somebody's purse—pointless, petty crap that made no sense. Stealing booze I could sort of understand, even though we all had jobs and spending money. But the rest was flat-out ridiculous, leaving me to wonder if our weekly mischief was actually a test of courage or of complicity.

  Would we do what we'd been told without question, even if it was embarrassing and potentially dangerous?

  "Yo, Cowboy. Mike wants us downstairs now." That came from Rocky, who had the room next to mine. He was clearly revved to go.

  With a sigh of resignation, I swallowed my last bit, got up, and followed him down the stairs of the old house several of us called home.

  Chapter Five

  Lily

  Neecy had worked her butt off all day, as I'm sure she did every day. I'd tried to help and even shampooed a couple of heads to catch her up. I'd always loved watching her handle her customers' hair. Her talent reminded me why I'd gone to massage school. While I had certified skills when it came to cutting, styling, curling, and coloring hair, I didn't want to do any of it for a living. So many customers were too undecided and unrealistic. A haircut was hard to take back.

  Jan and Sam also did hair. Mandy gave manicures and pedicures. As for Courtney, she supervised the tanning bed. Neecy told me more than half of their customers lived in the smaller towns between Moonrise Ridge and Branson. While a lot of women went with traditional hairstyles, Neecy and the other hairstylists kept up on trends, so there were some cute cuts and tints.

  My second customer, Patsy March, had been really nice. I was thrilled when she booked herself for a December return. She also asked me about doing some at-home massages, in particular for her great aunt, who had disabling fibromyalgia and seldom felt good enough to get out of the house. On hearing that I was open to the idea, she promised to talk with her.

  By six that evening, Neecy looked whipped, making me wonder if working on Mondays was such a good idea. I volunteered to spring for takeout on my way home. She gratefully sent me to a pub that had "amazing" Reubens and was only a few blocks away.

  Although it was already getting dark, downtown still had some spark thanks to the restaurants and bars, and the streets were well lighted. My walk was beautiful. The people who ran the town had gone for picturesque, so I saw small colorful trees in pots, random benches, and an occasional fountain that a tourist might find charming. I felt a nip in the air, and though there were no Christmas decorations anywhere, I still thought of it and of Thanksgiving. I wouldn't bother to go home for the latter. Not with that long drive and me working the days before and after.

  I liked Tooly's Tavern from the moment I walked through the door, probably because of the smells that made my mouth water. Sitting at the bar, I placed an order and texted Mom and then my sister Charlotte while I waited for it. Charly, seven years older than me, was the high-maintenance sibling most like our mother in temperament. Roger, three years younger than her, had been blessed with Dad's easy-going ways. Charly was married to Ted Silverman and had a daughter, Wendy, now four. Roger was all over the place and in no rush to tie himself down. I realized I missed them already, which was odd. When we all got together there was inevitably a clash of personalities.

  Bored with my phone, I glanced around the room, noting the Irish décor, stained glass shamrock, and a table of guys, six in all, laughing and talking in dark corner. In that low light, I had to look twice before I confirmed that one of them was Cade. Had he seen me? If so, he wasn't letting on. It took me a second longer to realize that he was minus his cast and sling. Since I didn't see a crutch anywhere, I concluded he might be rid of it, too.

  Before I realized it, I was halfway to the table with my gaze glued to his shirt, worn loose like a jacket over a white tee. Six guys sat there—the oldest looked thirty-something, the youngest was surely a teen. Their reactions to my approach ranged from indifferent to openly curious. My mouth went dry, but I knew backtracking would be more awkward than a quick hello.

  "Cade, hey. Look at you!" I playfully nudged his healed right arm.

  The only change in his expression was a slight narrowing of his ice blue eyes. He didn't speak at all.

  Self-consciously, I tried again. "So how does it feel to be a free man?"

  Another silence followed. I noticed lots of exchanged glances that inevitably landed on Cade, who finally spoke. "Baby, you've got the wrong guy."

  Oh my God. It wasn't Cade. But wait…it had to be him. Those eyes were unmistakable. Was I really that forgettable? My stubborn streak kicked into gear. "Don't you remember? Lonely road, flat tire, you and me…" Grin.

  His blank look was my answer.

  Fatally flustered, I murmured "Sorry," and pivoted to escape. I didn't manage a single step before the guy to my right grabbed my wrist. "What's your hurry, sweetheart?" He tugged me closer and patted his thigh. "Stick around. We'll help you forget this Cade guy."

  I peeled his fingers off me. "No thanks."

  "Aw, come on." This came from the guy to his right. "You're just what the doctor ordered."

  Bawdy hilarity followed his comment. Someone slapped un-Cade on the back. I heard a loud, "Good one!" But I didn't get the joke. Turning once again, I managed two steps before someone caught up and whirled me to face him—a Hispanic guy standing way too close, his hand crushing my biceps. "Stay. We're not so bad. In fact, we're pretty damn good. Just ask around." Raucous laughter encouraged him.

  I pulled free. Suspecting we were the center of attention, I quickly glanced around the room. What I saw was even worse. Other diners were obviously not lo
oking, which meant they were probably pretending this wasn't happening. Wishing the same thing, I turned to leave them.

  My unwanted companion grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt and yanked on it, causing my backward stumble.

  Suddenly un-Cade was on his feet. "Let her be, Choco."

  Grinning maliciously, Choco turned on him. "What's the deal, Cowboy? Do you know this chick after all?"

  "Yeah, bro," chimed in a pal, also getting to his feet. "You know it's share and share alike. Been holding out on us?"

  "Cowboy" snorted. "I just want my food, idiot." He glanced toward the bar. "The big guy's looking pretty pissed, and she's definitely not worth us going hungry."

  To the one, his friends scoped out the burly barkeep now giving them the evil eye. He beckoned for me to come get my food. Choco abruptly released my hoodie. Near tears, but not because I was scared, I walked straight to the bar where my supper was packed up and waiting.

  "Those punks bothering you?" The guy didn't bother to lower his voice.

  "I can handle them," I said, though my pounding heart told a different tale.

  "Yeah, well, you be careful. They're nothing but trouble." He threw them another dirty look as he took my money and handed over my order.

  I was out of the pub in a nanosecond and fuming as I briskly walked back to the spa and my ride. If that wasn't Cade, he had a double. And if it was…what the hell? I'd gone out of my way to be nice to him. In return, he'd blown me off in public and left me no doubt as to why he hadn't bought that coffee.

  Zero chemistry.

  No. More like sub-zero.

  But I wasn't chilled. I was steamed. Did he think I was chasing him? What an ego!

  Because I rolled down my window on the way to Neecy's, I cooled down physically if not mentally. My cheeks stopped burning; my heart rate slowed. I thought I was fine again. But the moment I got to the kitchen with our supper, Theo sort of swooped in.

  "Good God." He took the sack from me. "You okay?"

  "Yeah, sure. Why?"

  "You look frazzled. Tough first day?"