by Anna Lowe
“Oops,” Anjali said, reaching for Quinn. “When was the last time you changed her?”
Dell’s mind went blank. Damn. He’d kind of forgotten about that. But he did have the baby bag Anjali had given him that morning, thank God. He looked around.
“Um… It’s been a while. But where should I do it? Right here?”
Anjali laughed. “Babies aren’t modest.”
He bit his lip. No, he supposed not. But he’d only changed Quinn once so far with Anjali’s help. It hadn’t been rocket science, but it had been messier than he expected. How could a baby that small poop so much?
“Hang on,” he said, shouldering the baby bag and picking up Quinn. “I know where we can change her.”
“We?” she challenged. “Or you?”
He shook a finger at her in mock frustration. “You’re as bad as Connor.”
She smiled, bemused, making him ache. How could a woman that uptight be so beautiful?
“Captain Responsible, remember?”
He made a face. “Can Captain Responsible have a sidekick? You know — someone to help him out when he messes up?”
She grinned. “Sure. Call me…um…The Amazing Anjali.”
He laughed. “The Amazing Anjali. I like that.”
And so it was that he found himself leading Anjali to the last place he’d intended to go that day — namely, the Lucky Devil. If the guys there saw him with a baby…
“Not a word,” he barked at Keanu, the guy at the door. Upstairs, Dell gave the same piercing look to Candy, the waitress who loped over with eyes as wide as plates. Eyes that focused on Anjali and turned into daggers. Dell stepped in front of her with an unspoken, No, you don’t as his inner lion growled.
No one looks at my mate that way. No one.
He must have let out a little too much shifter power, because poor Candy shrank right back.
“We need the restroom,” he muttered, turning to the side hallway that led to the unisex facilities.
“Do you want me to help?” Anjali offered, hesitating when he went in.
She touched his arm, and his inner beast calmed right down.
Hell yes, he nearly said. But he settled for a quiet, “Please.”
It didn’t take long, and although Anjali guided him through the changing, Dell barely registered what he was doing. He was still getting a handle on the stares he’d gotten from the people he worked with. Stares that said, A kid? Yours? No way!
No, Quinn isn’t mine, he wanted to shout. But at the same time, he wanted to cuddle the baby and yell, Yes, she is. Well, she is now. Why did no one believe he could manage this?
No one but Anjali, who patiently led him through the last steps. “Perfect. Now get that tab over there. A little snugger…”
When he concentrated on her smooth, silky voice, his fingers functioned better, and slowly, the tension eased away.
“See? You’re a pro,” Anjali announced when he did up the baby’s onesie.
He snorted. “You’re the pro, Amazing Anjali.”
She laughed. “I learned most of this a week ago. And I’ve taken care of my brothers’ kids often enough to have gotten some practice…”
Her voice had a wistful tone to it, and he looked up, wondering how deep that yearning went.
“…but mostly, it’s the on-the-job training that helps. If you have to do something, you just figure it out, right?”
Dell warmed inside. He couldn’t picture Anjali in combat gear, but that attitude reminded him of the best soldiers he’d worked with.
He looked at Quinn. Soldiering wasn’t parenting, but still. Anjali was right. He had to do this. For Quentin. For Quinn. He had a good look in the mirror as he washed his hands. Hell, maybe he even needed to do this for himself.
He picked up Quinn, and she tickled his beard.
“She’ll be wanting her bottle next, and then she should nap,” Anjali said.
Dell considered how exactly he might swing that and finally tilted his head toward the door. “How about we all get a bottle?” he joked.
They claimed a corner table — the place being pretty quiet at that time of the afternoon — and a couple more glares was all it took for his colleagues to leave him and Anjali alone once they had Quinn set up with her bottle — plus a couple of soft drinks for the adults.
“Neat place. You tend bar here?” Anjali asked, looking around.
Decor at the Lucky Devil included colorful signal flags that hung from the rafters and black-and-white photos of old Lahaina that lined the walls in thick black frames. Those classier touches balanced out the kitsch of the devil motifs scattered around. Sunlight glinted off the pair of silver swords that hung over the bar, and a rainbow shone through the glass of an antique fishing float. Beyond them, the deck opened onto a stunning view of turquoise water, bobbing boats, and offshore islands with crowns of fluffy white clouds.
“Yep. Just part time,” he added, wondering how he was going to swing shifts with Quinn in his life. That and keeping up the patrol work that was his primary job. Living and working at Koakea was a great deal, but it wasn’t a free ride. The shifters of Koa Point had brought him and his buddies in as a security force, and he had that to consider too. They wouldn’t be too pleased with the distraction a baby could pose.
And, Jesus. They sure wouldn’t be happy about him being distracted by a mate either.
He set his jaw hard. Well, they’d have to learn to live with it, damn it.
If you keep Quinn, a voice ghosted through the back of his mind.
He frowned. Of course he was keeping Quinn. He had to. Right?
He looked at the baby in his lap. Her eyes were closed, and she’d gone from desperate suckling to drowsier sipping. One hand clutched the lion. The thing had a big smile sewn onto the face, but all Dell wanted to do was frown.
“Listen,” he said, leaning forward. “I hate to ask, but… About Lourdes. What happened exactly? You said the police called it suicide.”
The shine went out of Anjali’s eyes as she gazed out into the distance. “They said she stepped in front of a train near Fullerton station in the dark.”
It wasn’t often that a frown hurt, but the one Dell formed at the image in his mind sure did. He looked down at little Quinn, shaking his head.
“Leaving a baby alone…”
Anjali’s voice had more bite to it than usual when she replied. “Like I said, Lourdes was overwhelmed — and scared stiff of something she wouldn’t tell me about. Suicide is what the police called it. What really happened is anyone’s guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. How many women kill themselves by stepping in front of trains?” Anjali paused for a moment then shook her head. “Not many. It’s mostly men. I looked up the statistics. Believe me, Lourdes wasn’t the type.” She leaned closer. “And who’s to say she didn’t run in front of that train?”
Dell furrowed his brow. “You mean, running from someone?”
Anjali nodded, but a group of older women entered the bar and scattered, approaching the customers. One made a beeline for Dell’s table, and he sighed.
“Hi, Doris.”
“Why, Dell! Taking a break from the bar, I see?”
Doris and the others were regulars who had permission from the Lucky Devil’s owner to visit once a week, soliciting donations for a good cause.
“Yep. A short break,” he said, reaching for his wallet before Doris could break into her spiel about the Maui Kids Foundation. It was a great charity, but at the moment, he had other things on his mind. “There you go,” he said, stuffing a couple of bills into her jar.
Doris did a double take — not at the donation, because he gave every week — but at Quinn and then Anjali.
“I think those people want to give.” Dell pointed to another table, hoping Doris would get the hint.
“Yes. Well. Oh,” Doris sputtered, obviously trying to figure out whose baby it was.
It’s mine, but it’s not mine, he wanted to say.
“Right,” Doris finished, getting over her surprise. She thrust a second jar forward. “Pick your prize.”
Dell motioned to Anjali. “You pick. Who knows? It might be something good. I won a fake watch once.”
Doris scolded him. Anjali smiled and reached into the jar. “Maybe it’s my lucky day.”
She withdrew one of the prizes wrapped in brown paper and held it in her hand.
“Thanks, Doris,” Dell said, tilting his head. “Oh — watch out. I think they might be leaving soon.” He pointed to the other couple.
Doris scurried off, calling over her shoulder. “Thank you, honey.”
He turned back to Anjali, who raised one perfect eyebrow, making his heart skip.
He shrugged. “What can I say? The Kids Foundation does great work. Just don’t get your hopes up.”
He watched as Anjali unwrapped the prize, fascinated by the tiny changes in her features. Her expression went from amused to curious and finally, genuinely surprised.
“Wow.”
He blinked. Wow fit her natural beauty, for sure. Her soft skin, her almond eyes. The sharp cheekbones he longed to kiss. But what was so great about the prize?
Anjali pulled out a long, thin chain attached to a dark ball of some kind. “Is this a pearl?”
“A play pearl, maybe. Even in Maui, the Kids Foundation doesn’t go around handing out that kind of stuff.”
But Anjali’s eyes were glued to the pendant. “Seriously. Look at it.”
He looked briefly then waved a hand, unimpressed. “It’s brown.”
Anjali made a face. “So am I.”
He laughed. “And you’re both beautiful, but that’s not what I meant. Pearls are supposed to be white.”
“They come in other colors. At least, I think they do.” Anjali looked up and called out. “Excuse me…” She trailed off as Doris and the others disappeared down the stairs. Then she looked back at the necklace.
“Look at the chain. It’s plastic,” he said, amused.
“It is. But this pearl…”
He leaned closer. It did look pretty solid now that he considered it.
Pearl… his lion growled, considering.
Over the past months, two pearls had come to light — legendary pearls with mysterious powers. But there was no way a legendary pearl of desire would turn up in the prize jar of a cheap giveaway. Dell scrutinized the chocolate-colored pearl in Anjali’s hand then sat back, satisfied it was nothing. His keen shifter senses had felt the power of the two pearls that had recently come to light — incredible power that had throbbed like a magnetic field amped to the max. But he’d seen plenty of regular pearls too — heck, Cynthia wore a necklace full of them every day — and those didn’t do anything much but shine.
“It’s pretty,” he offered, not wanting to disappoint Anjali.
“It is,” she insisted. “Even if it’s not real.” To his surprise, she pulled the necklace over her head. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful.” He smiled, pretending he meant the pearl. But really, it was her smooth, mocha skin that fascinated him. Her dark eyes. Every graceful flex of her fingers.
She patted the pearl. “Well, I like it. A souvenir of Maui.”
Her smile was bright — maybe even brighter than the sun — and Dell gulped as his lion purred.
Mate.
But when Anjali’s eyes dropped to Quinn, her face fell, and he could see sorrow written across her face. A listless kind of sorrow that wrestled with a host of other emotions he’d gotten a crash course in over the past twenty-four hours. Love. Hope. Boundless dreams — and boundless sorrow. Even if a baby felt like yours didn’t mean it was.
A boat backed out of the marina not too far away, tooting its horn, and Dell scowled. It was all too easy to translate that to the last call of a departing flight heading to the mainland.
His eyes locked with Anjali’s, and for a moment, he thought she’d say it aloud. I don’t want to go. I want to stay. With you. With Quinn. I want to somehow figure this out.
Which was crazy, because responsible adults didn’t throw away careers for near-strangers. Especially not responsible humans, who’d been taught to follow their wallets and neatly stenciled life paths instead of their hearts. Shifters were more open to the latter, because they understood the power of destiny.
But Dell couldn’t bring himself to speak. Only to hope.
I want you to stay. With me. With Quinn. I want to give us a chance.
But he barely knew Anjali. His life was a mess, while Anjali’s was orderly and full of success. She was smart. Capable. Classy. What would she want with him?
He dragged his eyes away from hers. Maybe destiny made a mistake?
Destiny doesn’t make mistakes, his lion growled.
He frowned. Of course, it could. Why else would it have brought him Quinn?
His lion grumbled and finally went silent, though it didn’t stop pacing around inside.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway. About Lourdes…”
The silent something that had just passed between them — a twinge of a future that might be — flared then dimmed. Anjali’s face went hard, making him want to take back the words. But it was too late, because she nodded and went all businesslike, letting the moment pass.
“Lourdes wouldn’t tell me anything, but she was jumping at shadows from the moment she turned up,” Anjali said. “She wouldn’t answer the phone, and she barely went out. I asked if she was in trouble, but she wouldn’t say a word.” Anjali trailed off then picked up again. “Then there was that note…”
Dell frowned. “The one about…what was it?”
“If anything happens to me…” Anjali whispered, fingering the faux pearl.
“And what did the police say about that?”
She scowled and made air quotes. “Classic case of an unstable mind.”
Anger flared up in him. How could anyone write off a woman in need?
“And what do you think?” he asked, leaning in.
Anjali glanced around before edging closer. “Lourdes was mixed-up, but there was fact behind whatever fiction she might have added at times.”
Dell nodded, touching the lion that lay nestled beside Quinn.
“I went out to Fullerton and tried picturing her committing suicide, but I just couldn’t. What would Lourdes have been doing there that night? It didn’t add up.” Anjali threw up her hands. “I couldn’t get near where it happened, but I did talk to one of the maintenance guys. His theory was that Lourdes was running from a coyote.”
Dell snorted. “In Chicago?”
“You’d be surprised. I read an article saying there are upward of 2000 coyotes within city limits, even downtown. This guy from the L said he’s seen them, and he’s seen their tracks.” She held her hands apart, indicating the size of a medium plate. “According to this guy, the animal tracks he saw there the next day were big. As big as a wolf’s.”
A chill went through Dell. Could Lourdes have been involved with another shifter before she met Quentin?
Anjali took a sip of her drink and stared into the cup, then shrugged. “I don’t know. It still doesn’t add up.”
No, it didn’t, Dell had to agree. Not unless there was a shifter involved.
“You said something about Lourdes’ ex. An ex-husband?”
Anjali shook her head. “Ex-boyfriend. Brody.” She scowled.
“Brody who?”
“Brody Mc-something. McGee, maybe? I never met him, but everything Lourdes said about him screamed trouble. She even had a scar.”
Dell gripped the table as his cheeks heated. “Scar? He hurt her?”
Anjali brushed her cheek high up by the corner of her eye. “A long slice, right around here. Brody got violent when he was drunk, or so I gathered. Apparently, he wore this ring…” She circled the fingers of one hand over the other, making Dell picture something big and tasteless, like a Super Bowl ring. “When they first met, Lourdes was all impressed by it. As t
ime went on, though…” Anjali trailed off, closing her eyes.
Dell gritted his teeth, seething with emotions. Anger. Rage, even. Sorrow. But pain won out — the pain he could feel Anjali bear for her friend.
Gently, ever so gently, Dell reached out and cupped Anjali’s cheek. The color rose in her cheeks as she leaned into his touch, covering his hand with hers. Slowly, Dell stroked her skin with his thumb, and with every faint motion, the outside world seemed to take another step back. Soon, it was just him and her. Breathing. Touching. Tingling.
Wishing.
He took a deep breath, because a good soldier didn’t wish. He planned.
Bit by bit, Dell forced himself to organize the thoughts spinning around his mind. Blurry notions for revenge. Concern for Anjali’s safety, and for Quinn’s. Questions about the future, because Lourdes’s case was turning into a Pandora’s box.
Anjali is not a problem, his lion growled. Neither is Quinn.
He gritted his teeth. No, they weren’t. But what the hell could he possibly do about so much at one time?
Find a solution, his lion ordered, curt and sharp.
He nearly laughed. Right. Easy.
All right, then. Think like Quent. What would he do?
Dell made a face. His brother would break things down into logical parts and tackle the problem piece by piece.
He looked out at the ocean and finally shrugged. Okay. It was worth a try.
Slowly, he thought it all through, trying to connect the scraps of information he had. The lion toy. A woman on the run. Animal tracks at the scene of her death. Where should he start?
Gradually, the spinning wheels started to line up, pointing in one direction.
His hand tightened, and Anjali looked up, sensing the shift in his mood.
“Brody,” he growled. He hated the man already. “Brody who?”
Chapter Nine
Anjali wished she knew more about Brody, but she didn’t, and when she offered to make some calls and find out, Dell shook his head firmly.
“Leave him to us. I don’t want you any more involved than you already are.”
His eyes blazed as he spoke, and his hands formed fists. The suggestion of danger frightened her — if indeed Brody had anything to do with Lourdes’s death. But Dell’s words warmed her, too, because he uttered them like a knight, swearing to devote himself to her cause.