“Morning,” I greeted the three Stoners who had done an admirable job of staining my porch in my absence. “I appreciate y’all volunteering to help.” Volunteering being not what I meant at all. “I’ve framed out the walls, but it’s tricky raising them solo. I could use the extra muscle to knock this out today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they answered without hesitation.
Haden might be a brat, but he was training these guys right. Well, guys and a girl.
Shoe Laces was studying the ground. Par for the course. Grub, yes, that’s what he gave as his name, was ruddy-cheeked with enthusiasm. And Lyssa was gnawing on a stick of beef jerky held in the same hand as a pair of needle-nose pliers, because pointing sharp objects in the general vicinity of your eyeball would totally end well.
“What are you guys waiting for?” I started peeling tarps off the framed-out walls I’d left to sit over the weekend. “Walls don’t raise themselves.”
Most days I worked alone or with Zed, but since he and Moore had purchased their own DIY project, I had to improvise. That meant allowing this group, who at least seemed to know the difference between a flat-head and Phillips screwdriver, to assist.
Sweat, blood and the grunts of manual labor peppered my morning. Lunch came and went, and I decided to have a chat with Haden about the Stoners’ progress. I had never run my own crew. It might be nice to have steady folks there when I needed them, and we could always branch out and do work in town to bring in cash in addition to keeping the rent off our backs.
“Dell, can I borrow you?” Zed’s voice carried.
Wiping sweat from my eyes, I pocketed my level and exhaled a bubble of tension. Rather than irritation, I experienced a sensation of my world righting itself. The calm in the air had plagued me like the mother of a toddler suddenly realizing why the house was so quiet.
“Sure.” I gestured to the guys. “Take five. I’ll be right back.”
I left the construction site and joined Zed by the cooler. He offered me an icy bottle of water dripping condensation, and I finished it in one long pull.
“The clinic is looking good,” he observed. “Has Abram seen it yet?”
“He signed off on the blueprints.” I reached for a second bottle. “Our budget for replacement equipment is bare bones. He pretty much doesn’t leave his trailer except to hunt. Otherwise, he’s on eBay cruising for deals and bidding like a fiend.”
Zed chuckled.
“You laugh, but I think he might be addicted.” I clacked my nubby fingernails on the lid. “We might have to stage an intervention.” I took a ladylike sip and cleared my throat. “So what’s up?”
“Moore and I stopped by Panda Crossing for lunch.”
“And…?” I peered around him. “You brought me leftovers?”
“There were none. The restaurant was closed.”
Dread balled in my gut. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“There was a sign taped in the window. It said ‘out of beef.’”
This was not good. I foresaw another trip to Mrs. O in my future. I flipped the cooler lid shut and sat. “Why are you bringing this to me?”
“Nathalie filled me in about the O’Malleys,” he chastised. “I would have gone along if you’d asked.”
“There was no reason to think I was walking into a dangerous situation,” I assured him before he started picking at the scabs over my heart. “I promise I would have called for backup if I felt I needed it.”
He nodded that my answer was acceptable.
“Butler is small. There aren’t a whole lot of places to eat. With the Cantina closed, pickings are getting slim.” He studied the structure behind me. “Two restaurants taking indefinite lunch breaks within a day of each other. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“It’s not,” I said with one hundred percent certainty.
“How can you tell?” His gaze zipped back to me. “You haven’t examined Panda yet.”
“The sign? ‘Out of beef’? That’s what the note taped to the door of the Cantina said too.”
“I don’t like this.” Zed scratched the stubble on his cheek. “What are the odds this is a human problem?”
“As in what are the odds it’s not our problem?” I hated to break it to him. I really did. “Zero percent.”
As I explained about the glamour cast over the Cantina’s employee parking lot, and the damaging storm patterns, he narrowed his eyes. “What does the witch have to say about all this?”
“I haven’t asked.” I held up a hand to forestall his argument. “I talked to Cam and Cord last night. They’re up to speed on the situation. Cam suggested consulting Enzo, but I was hesitant to get in his debt.”
Zed grimaced. “Good point.”
“Now that we know a fae is involved and that more than one family is affected—Panda is owned by humans—we have enough to go to Enzo and press the issue as pack business.”
“The town is under our protection,” he mused, “and we can’t be certain something nasty didn’t slip past us.”
“Exactly.” I twisted to the side, taking in our progress. All four walls were up, braced and secure. A few of the interior rooms had been framed out too. Not bad for a day’s work. “Let me send the crew home, and we’ll drive into town since you’re so keen on playing backup.”
His smirk betrayed his interest. “Do you know the owners?”
“No.” I whistled loud and long to get the crew’s attention. “I get the feeling if this is connected to the O’Malley incident, then the restaurant won’t surrender any clues. I’m more interested in searching the employee parking lot.”
That brought him up short. “Will you talk to the family?”
“I can’t decide if that’s smart or really, really stupid.” I set my water aside and scooped up three cold ones. “It was different with the O’Malleys. They asked me to help. This would be me barging in, with zero qualifications, and offering my assistance. The fact the owners are human makes it that much stickier. I don’t want local law enforcement to come sniffing around because I caused a stir in town.”
The dip in his lips confirmed what a nightmare scenario that would be. “We can’t let a rogue fae prey on the townspeople, though. Guess we’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”
“That’s the spirit.” I waved him off and went to thank my helpers and invite them back tomorrow.
As the saying goes, nothing is certain in this life except death and construction.
Chapter 8
Zed drove us into town. His truck was older than both of us, probably put together, but she ran like a top. Its gradual restoration made me envious of the beauty he revealed with each rust spot he patched and every corroded surface he rechromed. I liked to think that if I had the funds to take on a restoration project, say one of the old Victorians near our old stomping grounds, the work would have filled me with the same pride that shined in his eyes whenever he caught me admiring his Tallulah.
“Here we are.” Avoiding the lot in back, he rolled to a stop at the curb in front of Panda Crossing, parking in the fire lane. “How do you want to handle this?”
Late afternoon was well underway. The sky was thinking about getting dark, but it hadn’t decided yet. Those same flashes of dry lightning writhed on the far edge of town, and this time the promise of rain dampened the air. The weatherman had blustered on about storms moving in overnight on the short drive, fueling my urgency to get this done before Mother Nature rinsed away any clues we might find.
“Do you have the harness?” The nylon straps were ratty things that stank of several wolves, since we’d all worn it at one point for various reasons. I wasn’t thrilled for the encore.
My wolf stirred at the word, her hackles rising.
“No. I found it chewed up and spat out in the weeds last week. It stank of beer and sex and humans, and I didn’t ask any questions. I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.” He reached behind the seat and presented me with a length of rope. “Will this wo
rk?”
A growl vibrated my chest, and I knuckled my hand against my breastbone. “We’ll make it work.”
“I couldn’t walk for three days after your wolf got done with me last time.” His shoulders weren’t plastered against the window behind him, but his spine was flush with the door. “Your wolf isn’t going to gnaw off my arm for my trouble, is she?”
“She’ll deal.” Anything was an improvement over the harness. It was a small miracle no one had taken revenge on it in all the years Zed had kept it. The expectation I would end up wearing it was the reason I hadn’t shifted and then ridden with him into town. Once my wolf caught wind of what was going down, she would have bolted. This way she saw what was coming through my eyes, and I got the chance to bargain for her cooperation. “Any ideas about where I can change?”
“Hop in the bed of the truck. There’s a tarp you can pull over yourself.”
I scanned the mostly empty streets. Mostly wasn’t good enough.
“Relax.” He patted my knee. “I’ll make the loop. That’ll give you fifteen minutes.” He switched his caress to the truck’s dash. “No one will hear you over her purring if you keep it down.”
From there he dissolved into a mixture of baby talk and “who’s a beautiful girl” murmurs that curled my lip.
“Please don’t start making out with your truck while I’m in the back,” I pleaded. “I have virgin ears.”
Zed’s snort almost choked him.
“Fine. Keep making out with inanimate objects, and I’ll tell Moore you’re mentally unstable and award him your half of the business.” I pointed at him. “As beta, I can do that.”
A grin split his cheeks. “You hate Moore.” His smirk widened. “You’d never reward him like that.”
Had anyone else spoken the H word in connection to Moore, I would have denied it. Heck, I might have even punished them to make a point that favoritism didn’t float my boat. Dell might have likes and dislikes, but the Lorimar beta didn’t have that pleasure. Besides the occasional theft of an off day here or there, I did Moore no harm. No more than what was done to me by resources being stretched thin. But this was Zed, and he respected the value of their partnership almost as much as he disrespected Moore as a person. So when he said I hated Moore, what I heard was we.
What’s a little anarchy between friends?
“You’re right.” I pretended to consider him. “I’d give your share to Aisha so the two of them could live happily ever after.” Moore and Aisha…two birds…one stone. “Or murder each other before the ink dries on the deed.”
“You’re so vicious.” He pinched my cheek the way Meemaw sometimes did. “It’s cute.”
I shoved him away. “Get off me before you damage my rep.”
Before he resorted to tickling my ribs, I scooched out of the cab and climbed into the bed of the truck. I waited until we started moving and the coast was clear before ducking down and maneuvering myself under the tarp. The wolf wasn’t sold on the whole shifting-at-thirty-five-miles-per-hour plan, but I promised her we’d go hunting if she cooperated. There was a nest of chipmunks a few miles down the road we hadn’t pestered in a while. Seeing as how wargs are about ninety-five percent stomach, she agreed with a rush of fur along the underside of my skin and the first celery-crisp snap of bone.
The change swept me away on a tide of pain, as it always did, and I surfed it the way I always did.
Panting for air just out of reach, I barked once to let Zed know I was done. He finished winding around the block then parked, got out and leaned over the side. The rope hung from his fingers, one end tied into a noose, and I gritted my jaw to keep from snapping at his hand while he looped it over my head. Barely giving him the opportunity to lower the tailgate, I leapt onto the sidewalk and shook out my fur.
Despite being tall for a woman, I made an average-sized wolf, and her blond coloring did me favors in low light. It meant I played the Fido card better than most.
Nathalie once teased that I could pass for a golden retriever on steroids. I just grinned and reminded her of the time she got a perm that translated to her wolf. She looked like a rabid poodle for a month. Good times.
Using the truck as a shield, I inspected Panda’s front door and came up empty. After that, there was nothing left to do but squeeze down the narrow alley between buildings and check out the employee parking lot.
“Picking up anything?” Zed asked blandly while sidestepping a puddle of ammonia-scented fluid.
“Shut your face.” Flattening my ears, I turned my head and snapped at him. “You’re enjoying this too much.” Hearing his chuckle did me good. He should laugh more often, and not just around me. “And no, since you asked so nicely, I haven’t caught a single whiff of Eau de Kidnapper.”
I wasn’t sure the victims were being kidnapped exactly, but abduction made better sense than the alternatives. The elderly woman who owned Panda was human. That’s all I knew about her, and I could tell that from her scent on the takeout boxes Haden sometimes brought me when he was feeling generous. Or guilty. Usually the latter. But as for the O’Malleys… A father willing to befriend the local pack armed to the literal teeth in order to protect his family wouldn’t vanish on them.
The alley surrendered no hints as to the identity of the mysterious fae disappearing people, but it did tell me lots of folks repaid the owners’ “bathrooms for customers only” policy by turning the corridors between buildings into makeshift urinals. Classy.
We made a circuit of the paved lot before facing the rear of the restaurant. The brick façade was as bland and nondescript as any other employee entrance I had ever seen, and the lot behind it just as boring. The two parking spots closest to the back door, both marked with spray-painted letter Ps, sat empty. I walked through them, dragging Zed as I went, without experiencing pushback from a spell. Hrm. That meant all we had linking the two missing persons cases were the peculiar signs taped to the window of each eatery.
“Excuse me, sir,” an airy voice called.
Pulled from my thoughts, I flicked a glance toward the street and the chalky-gray sedan turning into the lot. A young woman with soft Asian features but a twang in her voice that was pure Tennessee poked her head out the driver-side window as she guided her ride into one of the spaces reserved for Panda employees.
“I wonder what that’s about.”
“I guess we’re about to find out.” Zed shifted into a less aggressive stance. “Yes?”
“You’re not supposed to be back here.” Her prim voice hinted at a woman who relished rules and the following of them. A brief visual sweep of Zed ended with her gaze zipping down the rope to me. A strangled sound escaped her. “Is that a w-w-wolf?”
“Yes.” Zed was never one for subtlety. Good thing the exotic pet trade was booming. “She won’t bite.”
“Ah. Okay.” She jabbed a button, and the glass whirred higher. “Um, I still don’t think you should be back here with your—” she swallowed hard, “—pet.”
This close the air vents in her car had pushed enough of her scent to me that I picked up traces of familiar undertones. Her age made me think daughter, though I had never seen her before now.
“Ask if her mother owns Panda,” I urged him.
While pretending not to take orders from his pet, he asked, “Does your mother own Panda Crossing?”
“No.” A flicker of uncertainty had her stabbing the lock button. “My aunt, Li Zhuang, does.”
Oh well. I was close.
“I saw the sign out front.” Zed pinned a smile to his mouth. “Any idea when Panda will reopen?”
“You mean it’s not now?” The window lowered a fraction. “That’s strange. Her bike is missing.” The glass whirred again. “I drove up to surprise her. It’s her birthday. I’m in town for the celebration.” She smacked her own forehead. “And why I’m telling you this when you’ve got a wolf between me and the back door, I don’t know.” She shook her head vigorously, a slightly manic giggle breaking free. �
��Forget what I said. What I meant was my aunt is waiting on me, and you should leave the premises before she calls the cops.”
Zed chuckled, actually laughed at her. And she smiled back, a tiny bit, like he was okay for a wolf-walking, potential dark-alley kidnapper.
“I stopped by to pick up dinner.” Zed urged me to stand behind him, hiding maybe one-third of me from her sight. “I saw the sign about the time Dell decided she had business to handle.”
Embarrassment singed the roots of my fur. “Seriously?”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I hope you brought baggies with you.”
He patted a pocket and lied as smooth as you please. “Don’t leave home without them.” He hesitated, and I didn’t need the bond to guess his next move. “Would you mind if I walked you to the door?”
A flush dumped crimson into her cheeks, and her lips puckered. “Why?”
“Another shop owner, a friend of mine, disappeared two nights ago.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the Cantina. “Tim O’Malley.”
“Poor Tim,” she breathed. “Poor Tina.” Her gaze zipped between us and the door, no doubt gauging her ability to beat Zed to it, and her voice gained a steel edge. “What are you suggesting?”
“I overstepped my bounds.” He lifted his hands. “I apologize. I mean you no harm.” He backed away, clearing a path. “Just be careful, all right?” He gave my lead a gentle tug. “Come on, girl. It’s time for us to get home.”
“That could have gone better.” Out of options that didn’t end with the cops getting called, I trailed him the way we had come. “All we got out of this was a lecture on dog laws.”
“Give it a minute.” He stepped into the gathering shadows, footsteps slow and measured. “You’re too impatient.”
Huffing at him, I shouldered the insult so my wolf didn’t take offense. Given the proper motivation—say stalking chipmunks—she could be patient. All the best hunters knew the value of allowing prey to make the first move.
Promise the Moon (Lorimar Pack Book 1) Page 8