Wolf in Gucci Loafers (Tales of the Harker Pack Book 2)

by Tara Lain

  Seth’s golden eyes flashed in Lindsey’s mind. “I know exactly what you mean.” He gave Jazz a one-armed hug. More wouldn’t go over well with a teenager. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”

  They walked together through the connecting hall and came into the main house and then to the kitchen. The cook looked up from her chopping. Lindsey held up a hand. “No worries, Bette. We’re going to raid the refrigerator.”

  She grinned. “Don’t spoil your dinner. I’m making a good one just for Jazz.”

  The kid was already running the family. “There may be one more for dinner, if that can be accommodated.”

  “Always.”

  Lindsey opened the refrigerator door, and Jazz’s eyes widened. Lindsey grabbed a container of milk and handed it to Jazz. “Start with this and choose the rest.”

  The boy rolled his eyes, but quickly picked tuna fish already made for a sandwich and a container of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Lindsey filled in the menu with some carrot sticks and sliced zucchini.

  “Mr. Vanessen?” James, the butler, stood inside the kitchen door.

  “Yes, James. Would you like a snack?”

  “I’ve had mine, thank you. Your friend, Mr. Harker, is here.”

  “Great. He can meet Jazz. Take him to the terrace and we’ll bring our snacks out there.”

  Bette walked over to his array of food on the counter. “Let me handle this. You take the boy and meet with your friend.”

  Lindsey nodded and grinned. “But remember, Jazz has three hours until dinner, so he needs serious sustenance.”

  “I shan’t underestimate the size of the adolescent stomach. I remember you at his age. Jazz, he could eat a cow and ask for two goats for dessert.”

  Lindsey smiled. At the time, he hadn’t yet discovered it was quite literally true. “No cows. Just tuna.”

  He led the way down the hall and out to the terrace that sat outside the dining room. They often opened the wide French doors for parties and created an inside/outside entertaining space. Now it was more informal.

  Cole stood up as they walked through the door. “Hey, Linds, how are you? Are you—” He stared at Jazz.

  Lindsey looked from Cole to Jazz. “I’m so glad you came today, dear friend, so you can meet Jazz. He’s going to be staying with us.”

  Jazz looked at him. “I am?” His lean face lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “I believe my mother is sorting through all the details of just such a move as we speak. Of course, it will be your decision.”

  “Are you kidding? Man, I—” He hurled himself at Lindsey and hugged him tightly. “I don’t know what I ever did to get so lucky.”

  Lindsey rested his head against the boy’s hair. “Reserve your judgment, dear. My mother is a taskmaster who will drive you to excellence and perfection. Trust me on this.”

  “Just like you.” Jazz snuggled deeper into Lindsey’s hug. Apparently some things even overcame the need to be cool. Lindsey held him and smiled up at Cole. The guy’s face was white and staring. What the hell? “Uh, Jazz, this is Cole Harker, my good friend.”

  Jazz looked up at Cole, pushed away from Lindsey, glanced at his sneakers, and extended his hand. “Excuse me. I’m Jazz.”

  Cole shook hands but his expression stayed stern. Not a good sign.

  Bette walked out with their food on a tray, and that persuaded Jazz to return to nonchalance. She served the food. He thanked her politely and fell on the tuna sandwich like no one had fed him for weeks. Lindsey sat beside Jazz, and Cole took a third chair. “What can we get you to drink, Cole?”

  His eyes didn’t seem to want to leave Jazz. “Uh, iced tea would be great.”

  “Hungry? Want a snack?”

  “No thanks.”

  Bette left to get the iced tea. Cole dragged his gaze toward Lindsey. “So, uh, how are you feeling? Do the police have any leads on who did this whole thing?”

  “No. And I wasn’t much help, I’m afraid.” He bit a carrot. Yuk. He thought of it as a good vegetable example for the kid. “I didn’t see much that provided clues to the people behind the kidnappings. Of course, with a bag over my head, I couldn’t see much, period.”

  The door to the house opened and Lindsey’s mom bustled out. Cole stood. Jazz glanced up, put down his sandwich, and followed Cole’s lead. Good boy.

  His mom made sit-down gestures. “Sit, sit. Jazz, you need your food. Hello, Cole, dear. So good to see you. I very much appreciate you and the family coming to Lindsey’s aid last night.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh dear, was it only last night? Anyway, Jazz, I need to talk with you about some plans I’m formulating and see if you’re in agreement.”

  Cole looked at Lindsey. “Ma’am, I need to talk to Lindsey for a few minutes, so maybe we’ll leave you with Jazz, if that’s okay.”

  “Oh yes, dear, fine, fine.” She was already engrossed with Jazz, who chewed and swallowed but stared at her like she was a reincarnation of the Goddess of Mercy.

  Lindsey looked at Cole, who nodded toward the house with wide eyes. They walked into the house together. Lindsey frowned. “So what’s up?”

  “Can we go to your suite?”

  “Certainly.”

  Cole practically pushed him up the stairs. What was going on with this usually laid-back and gentle man? Lindsey walked inside his suite, let Cole pass in front of him, and closed the door.

  “So what’s—”

  “Jazz is a werewolf.”

  “Oh God.” He shook his head. “I had a suspicion, but I couldn’t imagine an orphan werewolf. I kept denying the signs.” His heart hammered.

  “He’s a werewolf, and he’s close to his first shift. Very close. It could literally happen tonight. If not, I’m pretty certain it will be next month.”

  “Holy God.” He walked to the chair in front of the fireplace and flopped. “I knew the symptoms, because I experienced them, but I’m such an inferior werewolf, even my sense of smell didn’t tell me.”

  Cole sat in the other chair. “Smell wouldn’t do it. Don’t beat yourself up. Maybe only my dad and mother and I would be able to tell for sure. Marketo too, but no other pack members. It’s hard before someone shifts.”

  Lindsey shook his head. “It makes sense. I felt kinship with him from the moment I met him. He eats like I did, and he passes out with no provocation. On some level, I knew.” He looked up at Cole. “Is he a half-breed like me or pure werewolf?”

  “Pure.”

  “My goodness. How did he ever come to be an orphan? Pack takes care of its own.”

  “We’ll investigate that. But now you have to worry about telling him before he shifts, then get him over to us so we can guide him through the event.”

  “Oh my.” His phone rang, and he fished it from his pocket. Seth. He glanced at Cole. Oh well. “Hello there.”

  “Hi. Hey, I’m so sorry, I pulled an emergency night shift for a guy who’s sick. I have to cancel our dinner.”

  “I understand. Work is work.” He glanced at Cole again.

  “Can I come over tomorrow? Spend Saturday with you and Jazz?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “See you as soon as I can get off and grab a few z’s, okay?”

  “Definitely. Bye.” He hung up. His face had to be red.

  Lindsey didn’t look up, but Cole’s voice shoved his frown across the room. “The cop?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  “You have to be careful. You have even more to protect now.”

  Sweet God. Now he wasn’t playing with his own life. He had Jazz to think about. He nodded. The “Honey, I’m a werewolf” conversation had just moved completely out of reach.

  Chapter Twelve

  The shiny, dancing morning sun mocked him as Lindsey paced the length of his bedroom and back. How long was the kid going to eat breakfast? Fuck, what he really wanted to know was how he was going to prepare Jazz for the fact he was a werewolf. He sat on the couch. Just breathe. Remember what it was l
ike when you were ready to shift. You knew there was something off. Something really different going on.

  He dropped his head in his hands. After he told Jazz, then what? He had to find a way to separate from Seth. Funny how life worked. All he’d ever wanted was a life partner. He had everything. People who loved him. Werewolves who loved him. A great job and a meaningful life. Now he had Jazz. He could give back some of the richness of love that had been given to him. Asking for more was selfish. Sadly, he was a selfish guy.

  A light tap on the door made him leap to his feet. Showtime! He crossed and opened the door. Jazz stood there, still holding a glass of milk. The kid smiled. “I needed a map, but I found your place.”

  Lindsey smiled and tried to look normal. “Come in.”

  Jazz entered and stopped, looking around. “Wow. This is really pretty.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You like really pretty things.”

  “Yes, I guess I do.”

  Jazz grinned. “I think I must like them too. I—” His eyes closed, his body crumpled, and milk went flying as he fell to the floor.

  “Jazz!”

  Lindsey knelt beside him and cradled his head. Fortunately, he’d fallen on the soft rug. Lindsey remembered these fainting spells so well.

  Jazz’s eyes opened halfway, blinked, and then flew open. “Oh no! Did I pass out again? The milk! Oh no!” He struggled to sit up.

  Lindsey pulled him back down and smoothed his hair. “No harm done at all. It will come right out.”

  “My foster lady says milk stains bad.”

  “We have experts in this house. Don’t worry about it. Come on.” He helped Jazz up and walked him to the couch. “Lie down for a few minutes.”

  The boy kicked off his sneakers and laid his long, thin body on the soft upholstery. Lindsey took the chair. “Have you thought about why you have these fainting spells?”

  “The doctor says it’s blood sugar.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  The boy looked down at his hands, which were folded on his stomach. “Maybe.”

  “Have you ever thought something a lot more mysterious could be going on?”

  The big gold eyes looked up at Lindsey. “Mysterious? You mean like a bad disease?”

  “Oh, I doubt that. What do you think?”

  “Yeah, sometimes I feel really weird like shit—I mean, stuff is changing fast in, you know, my body. The doctor says it’s normal for a teenager.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “None of the guys seem to have the same shit—I mean, stuff going on. I mean, they jerk off all the time and have all those kind of thoughts, but my stuff is different.”

  “Like what?”

  He sat up and rested his arms on his knees. “I get this red color in front of my eyes, and then for a while I can see really good. Then it goes away. My muscles ache, and I’m skinny but I’m strong. Really strong. I can’t eat enough food. My stomach growls like it’s eating me from the inside out.” He clutched his middle. “It’s weird, man, weird.”

  “I had exactly the same thing happen to me, Jazz.”

  His eyes widened. “You did?”

  “Yes.” Just breathe. “Did you ever think that there could be more going on in the world than people tell you is true?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, kind of.”

  “Well, I’m here to tell you there is more—”

  The knock on the door went through him like a rifle shot. No! Another knock. Lindsey held up a finger. “To be continued.” He crossed to the door and opened it. Seth beamed at him.

  “Hi. I decided not to sleep. I wanted to see you.”

  All he wanted to do was throw himself into the man’s arms. Two giant chips fell off his heart. “Hi. Jazz is here. Come on in.”

  Seth didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm. “Hey, Jazz, my man. Good to see you. How do you like the new digs?”

  Jazz’s smile about split his face. He really liked Seth. Clear to see. Another chip fell. “I can’t believe I’m really here.”

  Seth looked at the glass still lying on the floor. “You guys playing a new game? Throw the milk?”

  Jazz stared at his feet. “Nah. I passed out again. Lindsey and I were just talking about it.”

  They couldn’t talk about this! Could they? Could he try to explain to both of them? No, that was crazy. Seth would never believe. The whole pack would be vulnerable.

  Seth sat beside Jazz on the couch. “So what were you guys saying? Any conclusions? Is it the blood sugar?”

  Jazz shook his head. “Lindsey doesn’t think so. I was telling him all my symptoms—”

  Lindsey sat on the edge of the chair. “Yes, he’s like me. I grew really fast like Jazz. It affects the metabolism in strange ways.”

  Jazz frowned. Holy God, how could he get out of this?

  Seth shrugged. “I grew fast, but I didn’t pass out like that. It seems like an imbalance. Maybe with better nutrition, it’ll improve.”

  “Yeah, but Lindsey was saying there’s shit—I mean, stuff going on we don’t know about.”

  Crap!

  Seth looked at Lindsey. “Oh, what’s that?”

  Lindsey’s phone rang in his pocket. Talk about saved by the bell. “Excuse me.” He stood up as he looked at the screen. Bruce. “Hello, darling.”

  “Lindsey, please help me. I need to see you. I’m in trouble. Please.”

  “Dear God, of course. Can you tell me what’s happening?”

  “I’ve gotten myself into a terrible situation. Please. I can’t talk on the phone. Can you come here?”

  “Where’s there?” Damn, was he running away from the conversation with Jazz and Seth? Hell, yes.

  Bruce rattled off an address, and Lindsey keyed it into his GPS on the phone.

  “Come quickly, please.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Alone. No one else can know. It’s too sensitive.”

  “Okay.” He hung up. Both Seth and Jazz stared at him. “Uh, a friend of mine is stuck and needs a ride. He’s embarrassed, so I need to go alone. Why don’t you two go out to the pool or play tennis while I do him this favor? After that, we’ll all have lunch together.” Maybe he could think of something to say by then.

  Seth frowned but nodded. “Okay, I expect we can find enough amusement in this personal theme park.”

  Jazz grinned. “What’s the theme?”

  “Money.”

  They both laughed. Lindsey ran to the closet, changed his shirt, grabbed a jacket, and went to the bedroom door. “Have fun, you two. I shouldn’t be long.”

  Jazz waved. “Okay. Thanks for the talk.”

  The talk that wasn’t over.

  Outside the door, he stopped. Hard to catch his breath. What would he have said if Bruce hadn’t called? He shook his head. What the hell did Bruce want? What was he up to? He sounded desperate, but that was Bruce. And the man’s whole kidnap story reeked of mendacity. This could be a trap. He glanced at the door. But rather than have that conversation with Seth, he’d take a trap any day.

  Might as well hurry.

  In the car, he activated the GPS on his phone and followed it to a broken-down warehouse building in a bad section of Hartford. It looked oddly familiar—like the buildings the kidnappers used. He reached under the seat to a special compartment where he carried a gun. Granny could never have too many. This place was creepy, and better safe, as they said. He slipped the weapon into the waistband of his jeans, pulled the sweater over it, and got out.

  A door in the side of the building creaked open, and Bruce leaned out. “Lindsey, here.” He looked around frantically and waved Lindsey in.

  Hmm. He walked over to the door, glancing around as Bruce was, but stopped before he entered. “What’s this all about? What is this place?”

  “Get inside, quick. Someone may see us.”

  “My car is not exactly invisible, darling.”

  “Oh God, right. Can you put it in back
and then come in? Hurry, please.”

  The guy smelled like fear. That part was genuine, whatever else he might have going on.

  Lindsey trotted to the Tesla, drove it to the back of the building, and returned to the door. Bruce stood inside, looking frantic and terrified.

  Lindsey leaned in and glanced around the large, low-ceilinged room. No one except Bruce. Okay, a trap he could take, as long as it wasn’t a wolf trap. He stepped into the room, which contained a few crates and boxes but was otherwise empty except for a metal staircase that led to an upper floor. It felt a little like the spider and the fly, but he wasn’t going to find out what he needed to know standing in the parking lot. Plus, he had his gun.

  Bruce looked both ways and closed the door behind Lindsey. He waggled his hand. “Come with me.”

  “Uh Bruce, this whole thing feels weird, and since I was kidnapped the last time I was with you, forgive me if I’m not dying to follow you anywhere.”

  “Oh God, Lindsey, I’m so sorry.” He pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he was a crying heap on the floor.

  “Sorry for what, Bruce?”

  “I got you kidnapped.”

  “You couldn’t have known that the doorman was leading us to the kidnappers. I was as much responsible as you.”

  He looked up. “No, I led the kidnappers to you. I chose the tree so they could slip out of the forest and take you.”

  Lindsey frowned. “They took you too.”

  “No, I just pretended.”

  Son of a bitch. “I see. I had suspicions but none confirmed. And are you setting me up again?” He flicked a glance at the room.

  “No, honestly. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I’m going to die if I don’t confess.”

  He wanted to bite the guy’s head off. “So why did you come to me? The police take confessions.”

  He shrugged. “I guess I wanted you to talk me out of it. I thought maybe you could see a way to get me out of this without going to jail.”

  Lindsey walked farther into the open room, then turned toward Bruce. “Why did you do it?”

  Bruce sighed audibly and banged the back of his head against the wall. “My father made a number of bad business decisions. He was facing ruin.”

  “Yes, I’ve been noticing those as I’ve been trying to track the kidnappers.”