Wolf Detective

by Candace Ayers

  The vic had gone by the name of Smokey the Bear. According to witnesses, a cream-colored fancy SUV was seen speeding away from the area moments after the sound of gunshots .

  It just so happened that a cream-colored Cadillac Escalade was registered to a man named Anthony Waters. Problem was, Anthony Waters didn’t exist. The name was an alias. I knew because I’d gone through every Anthony Waters in the state of New Mexico and still came up empty .

  I needed to find this guy. Then, pin him to the murder. The crime scene hadn’t been much help. It had been washed away by a combination of parading onlookers, medical personnel, and a raging thunderstorm that took place the same night. By the time I’d arrived, it had been too late to preserve any evidence .

  I ran my hands through my hair then grabbed my keys and phone. I needed to hit the street. Canvas door to door. More often than not, that was how cases were solved, by doing simple leg work .

  I stopped in the doorway, scanned my room, and went back to straighten the pillows on the window seat and smooth down the bedspread before heading out .

  M uddy, the owner of the B&B caught me on the staircase landing. “Mr. Williams. How’s the room? Helen’s Corner must be a lot different than Chicago.” She tilted her head to the side, sending bright red hair cascading over her shoulder .

  “It’s closer to nature. That’s a good thing.” I knew she knew what I meant. I could scent that she was a shifter, too. Big cat .

  “Well, single men like yourself tend to love that over two thirds of our population are female. And most are single.” She waggled her eyebrows .

  “I’m here to work .”

  She wasn’t deterred by my bluntness. “As for our male residents, most have relocated here after, how shall I put it, being inspired by the unique charms of a woman .”

  I shook my head. “No uniquely-charmed women inspiring anything for me. I’m here on business, not pleasure .”

  “Huh. I guess we’ll see about that.” She just smiled and disappeared into the dining room .

  I snorted a laugh and headed out. She could think what she wanted, not a woman alive could distract me when I was working a case. My focus was laser-sharp .

  Besides, I was already married to the force .

  3

  Denny

  T he unfortunate bedlam with little Benny and his family had only been the precursor to a day had gone completely awry. I wasn’t sure how it all went sideways, but I’d been late for my next appointment, and every appointment after that .

  I’d also spilled paint on my new jeans, taken a sprawling spill in the middle of Main Street, and nearly flattened an entire section of the fence at Helen’s place while heading to the St. Anon meeting .

  St. Anon, a.k.a. Shit Talkers Anonymous, was started nearly a century ago as a “safe place” where the women of Helen’s Corner gathered to commiserate, congratulate and conspire. The secrets that were spilled in our hallowed spot under the willow tree were never repeated elsewhere. The meeting place had, back in the 1800’s, been Helen Cartwright’s homestead. Of course, it wasn’t called “St. Anon” back then, but even though the name had changed, Helen’s legacy continued strong .

  Anyway, I almost destroyed the fence around the property. I’d realized I was going to be late to the meeting and shifted early to make better time. I was a deer shifter but, for some unfortunate reason, I’d never lost my gangly, awkward gait. I was still as clumsy as a newborn fawn some days. I’d gone to jump, slipped on a patch of damp grass, and ran smack dab into the fence. I managed to show up to the meeting bruised and scraped. And late .

  After the meeting, those of us who shifted did. We ran together through the woods and around the protected areas of Helen’s Corner. A mix of animals that never would’ve mingled in the wild. It was always my favorite time. Spending most of my life clumsy, awkward and tripping over my own tongue, it felt good not to have to talk to anyone or try to be—normal. I just ran free and went wherever my doe chose .

  That night, there was something in the air that had my deer a little extra jumpy. I found myself standing still, staring off into the distance, sniffing the air and trying to place what it was that had me feeling caught in the headlights all evening .

  By the time we all finished our run, a group of us met up with Sonnie on the front steps of Muddy’s. We hadn’t returned for our clothes yet, so Charlie, Muddy, Carter, and I all sat wearing the complementary bathrobes Muddy kept on hand for her B&B guests. Charlie had dirt smudges on her face, Muddy’s hair was a tangled mane, and Carter was soaking wet, and I still felt jumpy and uneasy. I couldn’t put my finger on the cause, but I was ready to bolt at any moment .

  “I knew you’d be late. I should’ve made you bet on it.” Charlie nudged me with her knee and grinned. “What happened ?”

  “Ugh, let’s not even go there .”

  Carter patted my shoulder in mock sympathy. “Charlie told us about your clients from hell this morning. That sounded…disastrous .”

  I made a face at her. “I can hear the laughter in your voice, Carter Ray .”

  She grinned and shrugged. “You have terrible luck .”

  Muddy laughed out loud suddenly. “I saw you run right into that fence earlier. I’d always imagined deer shifters would be graceful. Before I met you .”

  I shook my head and then laughed along with them. It was ridiculous. I was so used to the calamity that was my life that it often didn’t occur to me how out of the norm it was. “When are we breaking out the outfits ?”

  My change of subject invigorated Charlie, who stood up and faced us. “I’m finishing up the last details on them. Then, I think we should have photos for the calendar taken as soon as we can. You’re gonna love them. They’re some of my best work .”

  We’d been brainstorming for weeks about a strategy to attract more tourists during busy season. Sadly, in the end, sexy outfits were the best idea we could come up with. The only idea, really .

  “I can do the photoshoot on Thursday.” I shrugged. “It’d be so much better than filling up the timeslot with another creep who wants me to shoot him with his shirt off .”

  “That happened again?!” Muddy and Charlie exclaimed at the same time .

  “Ugh, all the time .”

  “Seriously, what is wrong with the men around here?” Muddy shook her head .

  “There aren’t enough?” Sonnie supplied with a smirk and a shrug .

  “Bite your tongue. I’m perfectly happy about the small number of males.” I shuddered at the fresh memory of my afternoon client’s advances. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off the big platinum nipple rings hanging from his bare chest. When I’d opened my mouth to tried to reject his advances gently, all that emerged was , “Ouch !”

  “Speak for yourself. I crossed over a while back into the land of My-Vagina-Has-Cob-Webs.” Sonnie groaned and sank back against Carter’s legs. “Last week, a silver haired man with a cane winked at me—and I actually considered him .”

  Charlie hissed and smacked Sonnie’s leg. “Don’t do anything stupid. Take it from me. You can’t be too careful who you go home with .”

  “He wasn’t bad looking for an old guy .”

  Muddy snorted. “Not everyone is talented enough to find the one snake shifter in existence, Charlie .”

  “Hey! He came from a large family and he seemed nice. It’s easy to be fooled.” She shivered. “Then you wake up with a snake coiled around your thigh and scales raking over your skin, and you die a little inside .”

  I tried to hide my giggle with a cough .

  “I heard that, Denny .”

  The wind shifted and a breeze wafted over us. My senses jumped to full alert as if responding to a five-alarm fire. The figure of a man was moving towards us down Main Street .

  Tall, broad, and shadowed, he had the easy, controlled gait of a predator. Confident in his superior abilities. Confident that his prey was weak to him .

  It was that exact scent—the scent of da
nger and masculinity, that had jangled my nerves all evening .

  I stood and stealthily backed away. Without taking my eyes off the man, I whispered goodbyes to the women .

  “What’s wrong, Denny?” Muddy looked at me and followed my gaze to the stranger. Recognition flashed in her eyes and she stood, too. “Mr. Williams is one of my B&B guests .”

  While the other women turned their curiosity to Mr. Williams, I swiveled in the opposite direction—and bolted. My deer always enjoyed a run, even if it was in human form. This time, however, instincts warred with one another. She wanted to run towards the man, foolish beast. Luckily, I had more sense than her. I was going home. Then, I was locking all doors and windows .

  Whatever that man was doing in Helen’s Corner, I wanted no part of him. Fear and panic pumped through me as I ran for my life. He was not just a man. He was a wolf… and my mate .

  4

  Raif

  A group of women sat on the steps dressed in bathrobes, talking and laughing, but my attention remained on the one running away .

  Long limbs, fast gait, mousy, brownish hair. As she disappeared around a corner, my wolf had an overwhelming urge to lay chase. I sniffed the air, but the wind was to her back. I continued to stare a moment longer, curious, then forcefully pulled my attention away. I had no interest in getting involved with anyone. For all intents and purposes, it was best that she kept running .

  I glanced back at the bathrobe-clad women. “Ladies .”

  Muddy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Have you and my friend Denny met before ?”

  I studied each of the women. None, except Muddy, looked familiar .

  Muddy shook her head. “Uh, Denn y is the one who just ran off. Looked to me like maybe you chased her off .”

  I just shrugged. “The only Denny I know is the heartburn-inducing restaurant, which I try to avoid .”

  They all gasped. A blonde woman crossed her arms. “Don’t ever let her hear you say that. She hates that joke .”

  “Wasn’t a joke.” I maneuvered easily around them and up the steps .

  “Well, isn’t he charming ?”

  I looked over my shoulder. “No, and he doesn’t pretend to be.” Before disappearing inside, I tipped my baseball cap. “Good evening, ladies .”

  My departure was met with a few scoffs and a few muttered words that I knew they knew I could hear. I’d offended with my comment. I offended often. I’d never been a best behavior kind of guy. Hard-working, brutally honest, no-beating-around-the-bush guy, yes. Manners and etiquette, not so much .

  I climbed the stairs to my room and took a quick shower before flopping onto the bed. I tossed and turned for a while, stared at the layout board, but the fast, slender limbs, and mousy brown, shoulder-length hair of the woman who ran kept invading my thoughts .

  Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep, but even my dreams were filled with thoughts of that woman. Denny. Like the restaurant .

  I woke up feeling like I’d slept under the mattress instead of on top of it. Breakfast was served by Muddy, who shot me a few looks and carried on with her other customers. Not that I minded a dirty look or two. I didn’t .

  I had an appointment first thing with a potential lead. My canvassing of the neighborhood had paid off. A teenage boy remembered that a friend of his mothers had been in the park that day having a professional photographer take pictures of her prize-winning pedigree poodle. The clue I needed .

  I tracked the woman, Anita Gregory, down just as she was returning from a dog show. The poodle was a white mini with its ass, snout and legs completely shaven and big white snowball puffs of fur everywhere else. I cringed. How could she do that to the poor dog ?

  She’d indeed had pictures taken and recommended the photographer highly, a woman from Helen’s Corner named Denny Wade .

  Denny Wade. How many Denny’s could there be in Helen’s Corner? The restless feeling deep in my gut answered. There was only one and she might be someone who would cause me trouble. I wasn’t sure I was ready for Miss Denny Wade .

  Sometimes, the smallest thing can crack a case wide open. An offhand comment, a partial fingerprint, a trace of DNA left at the scene. A photograph. I needed to see the pictures that had been taken that day which meant heading back to Helen’s Corner to find Denny Wade .

  The sign on the little photo studio read Worth a Million Words. Clever. The instant I opened the door, I was transported to the middle ages. The backdrop was a medieval castle. A man, woman and child wearing period clothing posed in front of it. If I had to guess, I’d say Lady Guinevere, Lancelot, and… a court jester? Poor kid .

  It was the tall, gangly woman with the mousy brown hair behind a tripod, that captured my attention. Her scent overwhelmed me. A hint of the most deliciously irresistible fragrance filled my nose and I breathed it in, greedily. It was woodsy and herbal like fresh cut grass and autumn leaves with a tinge of fear .

  Her voice was soft and silky as she spoke. “Now, stand up a little straighter and brandish your sword, Daniel. Carefully this time.” My wolf growled at the sound of another man’s name on her lips. Fuck Daniel. My wolf would shred Daniel to ribbons .

  My wolf suddenly wanted to fight everyone. I was like a beast possessed, crazed by the woman with the mousy brown hair and long legs .

  Son of a bitch. I hadn’t earned the title of detective for nothing. I could put two and two together. I was ready to maul a man simply because she’d spoken his name. My wolf had taken over to such an extent that I could only growl one word around the snarling that was coming from my throat . “Mate .”

  She slowly straightened. Then turned, her huge brown eyes wide .

  Uh oh . I knew a runner when I saw one. She was a runner. I just wasn’t ready for her. I was stunned too stupid. Of course she would ring all my bells because that was how mates worked, but holy shit .

  My body was instantly hard and shaking like a newborn pup. I wanted to stare at her and memorize the way her lips curved downwards or the way she… she…She was running .

  My wolf leapt in joy at the chance to lay chase. Before I knew what I was doing, I was racing after Denny Wade out a back door and into the thick patch of woods beyond .

  5

  Denny

  T he urge was to run in two different directions—one away from, and one towards. Something was seriously out of order here. Seriously .

  Heart beating, palms sweaty, breathing erratic, my fight or flight instinct kicked in full force. And I was no fighter. I fled. I fled my own studio, leaving my clients—a family of three—unattended. I was sprinting through the woods in my silk blouse and best jeans, trying to escape a man. Not just any man, my… my … mate .

  The fact that I had a mate and he had just walked through the front door of my studio was only half of my trepidation. There was something else .

  I leapt over a log and slapped a tall clump of weeds out of my way. For once in my life, I wasn’t clumsy, thank god. I felt almost agile as I moved through the woods. But, no time to admire my agility. I was running for my life .

  The sound of snapping twigs and leaves rustling from behind brought a scream to my lips, but I refused to let it out. He was gaining on me. The man who harbored the huge, ferocious predator, was chasing me. My deer could feel her little tail about to be nipped off .

  Why was he chasing me? What would he do to me if he caught me? Kill me? Slaughter me? Eat me ?

  There was a creek ahead and I knew I’d have to run through it to get away. I hesitated for a moment, though, worried about the creek water and my brand-new Jimmy Choo’s. That moment’s hesitation was all it took .

  Strong, thickly muscled arms wrapped around my waist like a vice and before I knew it, I was sailing through the air, spinning, and landing with a splash. I finally released that scream as we landed in a foot of mud and water. Me on top, him underneath. Cold water soaked through my clothing, saturating me to the skin. I sputtered and fumbled for footing but the man under me held fast . />
  He rose easily to his feet, dragging me along, pressed tightly against his massive chest. He shook out his hair—a gesture reminded me of a dog. He kind of was a dog. Not the scratch behind the ears, play dead, roll over, and pet my belly type of dog. The fierce, feral, predatory, tear apart raw meat like it was paper kind. His animal instinctively wanted to hunt and eat mine. Maybe that was exactly what he was getting ready to do .

  I wiggled and squirmed in an attempt to free myself, but his arms were steel beams. I’d been looking everywhere but at his face in my wiggle for freedom, but when he cleared his throat, I looked up. I was screwed .

  He was staring down at me so intently that I forgot to breathe. His eyes were a vibrant hazel, surrounded by ruddy, dark lashes, and when they narrowed in on me, he looked every bit the formidable beast I knew he harbored. His full lips were pressed in a firm line, the hint of beard, dark brown .

  I wasn’t a short woman, but he towered over me by almost a foot. If I expected him to apologize, or introduce himself, or make small talk, I was sorely mistaken. Time stretched, but he just kept staring, his eyes moving ever so slightly over my face. I was terrified to exhale the breath I’d been holding .

  My heart beat against my ribcage. Our mate was right in front of us. After twenty-nine years of believing, and hoping, that I’d never find a mate and being perfectly satisfied—grateful even—there he was, right in front of me. Staring like I was on a discount buffet .

  “D—Don’t eat me .”

  His eyes narrowed wickedly. A corner of his mouth rose slightly. His gruff voice, an octave lower than human, sent a hot flush through my veins and dampened my panties .

  “I don’t want to eat you, little doe. I want to fuck you .”