Apple of My Eye: Tiger's Eye Mysteries

by Alyssa Day

  He shook his head, pushing his chair back and starting for the back door. "No. Not danger. Just… the wind shifted, and a breeze coming in the window smells like stranger."

  I followed him, flinching at the thought of what might be on my back porch.

  As I mentioned, it's been a challenging year.

  When he opened the door, I caught myself hunching my shoulders, prepared for anything.

  Anything but what was actually there: a small box wrapped in shiny white gift wrap and tied with an oversized red velvet bow.

  Jack raised an eyebrow. "Guess I'm not the only one bringing you gifts."

  I shrugged. "I have no idea what this is about. Like I said, it's not my birthday until November, and nobody leaves things for me on my back porch."

  He leaned out and sniffed and then flinched. Then he bent and picked up the box. "I'm no wolf, but I can smell enough to know there's blood in here."

  I backed away. "Oh, no. Should we call Susan?"

  "We should probably look inside first," he said, his face grim. "Or at least read the card."

  He carried it into the kitchen and put it down on a counter. I reached out for the card, which was tied to the ribbon, and read it, growing more and more perplexed.

  "What does this mean?"

  to the apple of my eye

  Jack's beautiful green eyes narrowed. "Apparently you have a secret admirer. Met anybody new recently?"

  "I meet new people all the time, but they're usually in their seventies and wearing i went to orlando and all i got was this stupid t-shirt shirts." I grinned. "Actually, there was this guy who was completely besotted with me the other day, but he was three years old."

  "Are you going to open it?"

  "Why not? Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe it's only a really rare steak." I untied the ribbon, making a note to save it for wrapping Christmas gifts, and lifted the lid to peek at what was inside.

  It was a gold ring, with a large sapphire in a delicate filigree setting.

  And it was still on the chopped-off finger of the woman who owned it.

  Jack snarled and moved to put himself between me and the box, as if it were a bomb or a live snake, and I leaned my forehead against his back and blew out a long, shaky breath.

  "Not again."

  3

  Susan and Deputy Andrew Kelly stood in my kitchen staring down at the finger.

  "Only you, Tess," Susan said. "What is it with you and body parts? First the foot, and now this."

  "That's not fair," I said hotly. "It's not like I invite this craziness into my life."

  She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jack, who leaned against one wall of the kitchen, arms folded.

  "Are you calling me crazy, Sheriff, or are you insinuating that I'm the one bringing the craziness into Tess's life?"

  Susan put her hands on her hips. "Who's insinuating? I'm pretty sure I came right out and said it."

  Andy swiped his bright Irish-red hair away from his eyes, his freckles standing out on his reddened cheeks—a sure sign he was getting flustered. "Let's calm down, everybody. We need to check the back porch and surroundings, see if anybody left anything behind that could give us an idea of who left this."

  "Maybe something labeled CLUE, Deputy?" Jack grinned at Andy.

  Andy glanced up at Jack, who was almost a foot taller and twice his size in terms of muscle, and shook his head. Andy never backed down. He'd tried to 'save' me from Jack in the past and had also stood up to a murderous sheriff who'd been pointing a gun at me. "There's always a first time. And hey, why didn't you smell dead body part before you let Tess open this box, shifter boy?"

  "That's shifter man to you my friend," Jack replied lightly, but he frowned. "I did smell it, but only a little. I didn't touch it, but from the look of the finger, it's frozen, which masks the smell. Also, the box smells like soap, which disguised the scent too."

  "Lavender," Susan and I said together.

  "Okay." Susan, wearing gloves, put the box into a large plastic evidence bag, sealed it, and wrote on the label. "That's handled. Now, Andy, Jack, will you two look around? See what you can see—or smell?"

  Jack, to whom that last had been directed, sighed. "As I've told you repeatedly, I'm a tiger shifter. Not wolf. My sense of smell isn't that much better than yours, but I'll see what I can find."

  He looked at me. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. Yes. I will be." I squared my shoulders and looked at Susan. "By now, I know the drill. You want to know if anybody in my life recently has been acting weird?"

  Jack headed for the door but looked back at me, a faint smile on his face. "With your family, that's going to be tough to narrow down."

  I couldn't even be annoyed, because he wasn't wrong.

  Andy followed Jack out the door, and I moved to the window to catch a glimpse of the sight I never tired of seeing: Jack changing from man to tiger. As he leapt forward off the porch, ignoring the stairs, his body lengthened and transformed in midair into the sleek, powerful, orange, black, and white stripes of an alpha predator. He hit the ground running and headed straight for the trees that lined the back of my large yard, a sleek arrow speeding through the twilight.

  "Damn, that's impressive," Susan said at my side.

  I sighed. "I know. It's magical. Truly magical. Darn the man."

  "Just showed up with no explanation?" Susan knew as much or more about Jack's background as I did.

  "An apology, but not really an explanation. Except people needed him, so he had to go." I shrugged. "It's hard to argue with that."

  "Especially since you would have dropped everything to help your friends too," she said.

  I couldn't argue with that either, so I ignored it and turned my focus back to the box.

  "I know enough about jewelry from my business to tell you that the ring is quite valuable. The dark, violet-blue color saturation of the sapphire means that it is very expensive per carat, probably triple-A quality, and it's at least fifteen carats. I'd have to examine it to know more." I pointed at the box. "Whoever wore that ring had real money or was engaged to someone with real money."

  Susan tapped a finger on the evidence bag. "That may make it easier. The family and friends of a wealthy person are more likely to have reported a missing person than if the finger belonged to a transient. We'll do our best to find justice for the victim. The immediate question is: Why you?"

  "Who would want to give me the finger?" I almost smiled when I realized what I'd said, but I didn't feel much like laughing. "I have no idea. I'd hoped that after the foot in my drawer at the shop, I was done with body parts forever. And 'to the apple of my eye' on the card—what's that about? Jack joked that I must have a secret admirer, but that's not the kind of person I want to be interested in me."

  I shuddered, and Susan patted my arm. She could touch me with no fear on either of our parts, because she'd touched me before, and she was one of the people who gave me absolutely no vision of her death. My 'gift' didn't happen with everyone, and I had no idea why. I was just enormously grateful when it didn't.

  Watching someone die in real time is not a lot of fun.

  Living with the knowledge of how someone is going to die is even worse.

  Susan made a couple of quick calls, and I spent the time starting to clean up the kitchen from our quick dinner, because when I'm stressed out I either clean or bake, and the idea of whipping up a batch of brownies or a pie felt somehow disrespectful.

  Jack stalked back into the kitchen, still in tiger form, and Lou hissed at him and jumped up on top of the refrigerator so she could be brave at a distance. Jack headed straight for me and nudged his enormous head against my hip, and I put a hand on his head for a moment, caught in his amber gaze. Then the familiar shimmer of magic shivered through the air, and Jack, fully clothed, stood next to me, his face hard.

  "There was nothing. Well, not much. I'm not a bloodhound, so maybe there's really all sorts of trace, but I can at least tell when shifters or vampires have b
een around, and there's none of that. No foul scent of blood magic, either. Andy found something, though."

  The deputy walked in the door, holding something in one gloved hand. "I did get something, but I'm not sure if it's related. There's a spot in the trees just there," he said, pointing out my window. "Straight sight line to your kitchen window. Grass was trampled, and there were four of these candy wrappers scattered around, as if somebody'd stayed there for a while. Maybe watching your house."

  Jack leaned forward and inhaled, then sneezed. "Peppermint. I hate that smell."

  "Christmas must be difficult for you," Susan drawled, opening another plastic evidence bag.

  Andy dropped the wrappers in the bag, and she sealed and labeled it.

  "I don't know what the chance is of getting fingerprints from crumpled cellophane, but it's worth a shot," she said. "Tess. Is there anyone—anyone—you can think of who has shown too much interest in you lately? Who's felt off to you in any way?"

  Jack wrapped his hand around mine, and I squeezed, appreciating the comfort.

  "Sometimes it's a subconscious thing," he said. "You don't realize on the surface that someone bothers you, but you may feel your skin crawl, or a slight sigh of relief when he leaves the room."

  Andy nodded. "How about at the shop? Does anyone feel like they didn’t get the best deal?"

  I shrugged, feeling helpless. "No. Nobody. No weird people, no weird feelings. And you know me, Andy. It's not like I’m wheeling and dealing big-ticket items. Today I took in three TVs, a laptop, and a taxidermied ferret. I can't see anybody holding a 'chop off a finger and give it to Tess' kind of grudge over anything I've done."

  "Eleanor maybe," Susan said, grinning.

  My only employee was known far and wide for being a tough negotiator, but she was always fair. A pawnshop who cheated or lowballed its customers was a pawnshop that went out of business, fast. Especially in a small town like Dead End, where much of my business consisted of repeat customers.

  "No, not Eleanor, either. But even if it had been, wouldn't they have given the box to her?"

  Jack made a low growling noise in his throat, and Lou's ears perked up, but she quit hissing.

  "It's the 'apple of my eye' bit that concerns me the most," he said. "Not that I don't feel bad for the person who probably died. But Tess is still alive, and I plan to keep her that way."

  "We're on the same page there," I muttered.

  He tightened his hand around mine. "My point is that this is obsessive, stalker-sounding language. There's nothing reasonable or sane about this kind of obsession, if that's what this is. Usually it starts small and then escalates, but if the baseline here is an amputated finger in a box, what is escalation going to look like?"

  My head suddenly felt light, as if it were going to float off my body. "I don't like the sound of that."

  "You know a lot about stalkers for an ex-rebel soldier and commander," Susan said, giving Jack a narrow-eyed look. "Anything you want to share?"

  Jack stared calmly back at her. "Nope. Not my story to tell."

  I pulled my hand out of his, suddenly tired of all the secrecy and ready to focus on something that wasn't an amputated finger showing up on my doorstep. "Like Cleveland?"

  "Exactly like that."

  Andy blew out a sigh. "Okay. I'll brush for prints, on the slight chance that your gift guy may have touched your back door."

  Susan nodded. "You do that and let me know. I need to get going. Tess, I'll stop by the shop tomorrow to talk to you some more. Will Eleanor be there?"

  "I'm closed on Sundays," I reminded her. "How about Monday? Or I can talk to you after church."

  "I have lunch at my grandmother's house. She's been telling us that she's having outings with my grandfather, who has been dead for a while, and we're getting worried. The family is doing potluck lunch there so we can talk about our options," she said, frowning.

  Susan wasn't just the sheriff, she was my friend, so I walked over and gave her a quick hug. "Call me if you need anything. We can talk about this later in the day tomorrow or Monday morning at the shop. Eleanor is scheduled to work."

  My phone rang as I walked her to the door, and I picked it up off the coffee table. "Oh, no. It's Aunt Ruby. Did you tell her about this?"

  Susan winced. "No, and I don't have time to talk to her now. I love Ruby when she's being your aunt, but when she's being Mayor Callahan, she's a pain in my behind. No offense."

  "None taken." I put the phone back down. I'd call her later.

  Much later.

  Maybe even tomorrow.

  Andy came trotting in from the kitchen, shaking his head. "Nothing. He or she was wearing gloves or else very careful. But we have the wrappers, Tess. We'll figure this out."

  "Great," I said glumly. "A candy-munching lunatic has been staking out my house and leaving me presents. Lucky me."

  "I doubt he'll come back tonight," Susan said. "Especially if your tiger bodyguard hangs around."

  "I'm not going anywhere, if that's okay with Tess," Jack called out from the kitchen, where he was running water to wash the dishes.

  Yes, my fierce, ex-soldier, tiger shapeshifter loved to hand-wash dishes. Life is weird.

  Especially my life.

  Susan raised her eyebrows. "He heard us from here? With the water running?"

  "Superior tiger hearing," Jack and I said at the same time.

  "It's a thing," I told Susan. "And yes, I'll let Jack stay over. On the couch."

  When Dead End's finest drove off, I locked my door and returned to the kitchen, where Jack was finishing up washing our few dishes.

  "You can dry, if you feel like it," he said.

  I didn't particularly feel like it, but I did like waking up to a clean kitchen, so I picked up a towel.

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  I dried the soup pot and put it away. "Not really. What is there to say? Yet again, I seem to be a magnet for weird, dangerous trouble? I thought finding out that I have a grandmother—and that she's a banshee—was going to be the most bizarre thing that happened to me. But it's always something new. Was I a terrible person in a past life that I deserve all this?"

  Lou, who'd finally deigned to jump down off the refrigerator, walked over and rubbed her head against my shin. I bent down and picked her up, cuddling her close. "I mean, you're the one who led rebel expeditions and probably made enemies right and left. All I've ever done is live in Dead End and work at the pawnshop. It doesn't make any sense."

  "Unfortunately, life rarely makes sense," Jack said, in an uncharacteristically serious voice. "And bad things happen to good people far more often than is fair. That's why people like me exist. To protect people like you."

  I raised my chin. "Okay, Mr. Protection. As I remember it, we've protected each other in all these adventures and troubles since you got back into town. Don't start thinking of me as a damsel in distress, or we're going to have a problem."

  He grinned and raised his hands in surrender. "The last thing I want is another problem with you."

  "How about a movie?" I suddenly wanted, very much, to be distracted from the box and its sender.

  "Can we watch An American Werewolf in London? That one always makes me laugh. When I watched it with actual American werewolves when I was in London, we were at this pub—"

  "Okay, okay. But you have to promise to tell me more about the story than it's a 'sacred werewolf secret' or some such crap." I opened a cupboard. "Popcorn?"

  "Do you even have to ask? I'll melt the butter."

  So the two cats and I (Jack laughing and Lou hissing whenever a werewolf showed up on screen) watched a movie, ate popcorn, and didn't say another word about the Incident. I was almost even too preoccupied with everything that had happened to think any thoughts about jumping into Jack's lap and kissing him.

  At ten or so, when the movie was over and I was falling asleep sitting up, Jack suddenly scooped me up off the couch and carried me to my bedroom.

 
; This might have been romantic if it hadn't freaked me completely out. We hadn't even had our first date yet, so him carrying me to bed was way too much and way too soon and…

  "Tess."

  I could hear the laughter in his voice.

  "Yes?"

  "Stop thinking so hard. I'm not making a move. You were practically asleep, so I'm taking you to bed."

  "Oh." I didn't know whether I was relieved or disappointed.

  He put me down at the doorway to my room, briefly rested his cheek on the top of my head, and then stepped back.

  "Okay. Go get into your Donald Duck PJs—those still show up in my dreams sometimes, by the way—and get some sleep. We'll figure this out tomorrow."

  My cheeks heated up at the mention of me in his dreams, but I didn't ask.

  "Jack?"

  "Yes?"

  I swallowed, hard. "Let's finally go on that date. Tomorrow evening?"

  A wickedly sexy smile slowly spread across his gorgeous face. "What about tomorrow morning? And then we spend the day together?"

  "I can't. I promised Aunt Ruby I'd go to church with her. I missed last Sunday doing inventory and the Sunday before because I overslept."

  "Lunch?"

  My shoulders slumped. "I promised Aunt Ruby and Uncle Mike I'd have lunch at their place after church."

  "Perfect. I'll go with you. I'm sure Mike has missed me." His smile deepened. "I haven't been around to hear him make vague threats about tiger-skin rugs for a while. I'll bring steaks."

  "Do you want to go to church with us?"

  "Maybe another time." His smile faded. "The things I've been doing for the past few weeks… I'm not ready to go to church."

  Impulsively, I raised my head and kissed him on the cheek. "Jack. You know you can talk to me, right?"

  He pulled me close for a hug, and I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warm, solid feel of his arms around me for a long moment before I pulled away. His fingers tightened on my waist for a second or two before he released me, and I caught my breath.

  "Um. Okay. I'll get you a blanket and a pillow, and —"

  "Tess." Jack grinned at me. "I'll be fine. I'll even stay on the couch, because I'll be able to hear it if anybody comes anywhere close to the house."