I struggled to hold back a little smile, remember how Lonnie had made the same suggestion only a few short months ago, although her comment hadn't been made with the same level of vindictiveness behind it as Alison's had. I still couldn't believe any of them had made such a ridiculous assumption, just because Lucas didn't date. Sometimes I felt years older than my peers did and this was one of those times. “It's not a problem.”
I sipped my coffee thoughtfully as Maude and Lonnie chatted together. Although I'd brushed it all off with Lonnie, I was wondering how pretty Alison's dress was going to be and fervently hoped Acenith's shopping excursion would ensure a dress which would be prettier.
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
“Lottie! Wait up!”
Standing in the doorway of Hank's store, I turned to see Sheriff Davis striding along the footpath. Tall and solidly built, dressed in his full police uniform he could be intimidating, I imagined, but the creases around his eyes when he grinned down at me softened his harsh features.
“Howdy, Sheriff, how you doing?” Hank questioned, following me out the door with the framed painting clasped in his hands.
“Good, Hank. How are things with you?”
“Yeah, we're doing okay. Just giving Lottie a hand getting this to her car.”
The Sheriff's gaze flickered to me and he took the smaller parcel from my arms. “Let me give you a hand.”
With a warm smile, I agreed and pointed out Ben's car to the two men.
Hank whistled appreciatively. “That's one fancy car, Lottie. Where'd you get it from?”
“Ben lent it to me.”
“Pretty swish after the Volkswagen,” Sheriff Davis announced with a wink. He'd seen the sorry state of my Volkswagen before its transformation and kindly ignored a couple of things, which really should have merited a citation.
“I still have the Volkswagen, but she's had a makeover, Lucas's friend Striker fixed her up for me,” I explained, “but with this ankle I can't drive a stick shift yet.”
“How is the foot?” Sheriff Davis asked, while Hank placed the painting carefully into the rear seat, then took the smaller picture from the Sheriff.
“Much better, thank you. A couple more weeks and the plaster will come off.”
“Right, well, I'd better get back to work,” Hank announced when he was satisfied the paintings were safely stored in the car. “Sheriff, you'll be at the card game tonight?”
“Surely will,” Sheriff Davis agreed easily, “someone's gotta make sure you fellas don't cheat.”
Hank held his hand over his chest, his eyes twinkling. “Clint, you wound me with a comment like that.”
Sheriff Davis chuckled, his brown eyes filled with amusement. “Hank, you're the worst one for cheating if you see an opportunity.”
“Why not? It's the only damn way I'll win a round,” Hank agreed without a trace of contriteness. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, drawing me into a brief hug. “Don't you be a stranger, y'hear?”
Promising I'd see him soon, I watched as he ambled back into his store, the bell over the door tinkling as it opened.
“Hear you've moved out to the Tine place,” Sheriff Davis announced as the door shut behind Hank. He had his thumbs tucked into his belt, looking every inch the serious police officer, but the smile in his eyes told me he approved.
“Yeah, I have. Rowena said she spoke to you about it; let you know I was staying out there.”
“Yeah, she did. Good thing, too, or I might have had to arrest you for not reporting your change of address.”
I chuckled at his supposedly serious demeanor, knowing he was joking around with me. “How's things around town?”
“The usual stuff. Mrs. Simply complaining about kids playing in the street and making too much noise; old Grainger is convinced someone is stealing his DVD collection, despite the fact that his place is shut up tighter than a drum and there's no sign of a break in; the usual suspects are speeding after midnight…” he sighed heavily. “Sometimes I wonder why I do this damn job.”
His dissatisfaction was evident in his voice and I felt a wave of sympathy for him. “You must get fed up with the sameness of the routine.”
He nodded. “I love the job, but it isn't enough sometimes.” He glanced up and down the street, sharp brown eyes taking in everything that was happening. “Still, I love the town and the folks who live here.”
I knew from previous discussions that Sheriff Davis was single, having divorced from a childless marriage some five years ago and was approaching forty-five. He'd worked as a police officer in Billings for nearly twenty years, until he was shot in the line of duty by a drug-crazed psychopath who'd gone nuts in a supermarket. He was as tall as Striker was and nearly as intimidating, his solid muscular body gave no suggestion that underneath it laid a heart of solid gold marshmallow. His chestnut brown hair held a hint of grey at the temples and his face was all angular features with a sharp, prominent nose. When he wasn't smiling, I imagined he could be scary, but he'd always been pleasant and easygoing when I'd seen him. I wasn't certain he'd be so pleasant if you got on his bad side, but I knew him to be firm but fair and well liked by the citizens of Puckhaber. “You need to find a good woman, Sheriff,” I teased him gently.
He gave me hard look, although the twinkle remained in his brown eyes. “That'll be the day. The last thing I need is another damn woman taking me to the cleaners like Marcie did when we divorced. I'm happily single and planning to stay that way.”
“If you say so,” I replied lightly. Glancing at my watch, I twisted the car keys in my fingers. “I'd better get going, Lucas is expecting me.”
“Before you go, I wanted to give you a heads up. Lucas's place is isolated out there and I've heard a couple of crazy rumors about wildcats in the area. I don't believe a word of it, just hunters who've drunk too much beer, but there have been a couple of reports in the last month, so tell Lucas to keep a lookout.”
“Wildcats?” I repeated with a frown. “In Montana?”
He shook his head, his expression filled with bemusement and it was obvious he wasn't taking the claims too seriously. “Yeah, I know. If it had only been one report, I wouldn't have given it an ounce of credence, but I've had two separate reports from two groups of people. Multiple sightings and they all reckon they seen the same thing, some sort of big wildcats. From the descriptions, it's too big to be a bobcat or a cougar and I've heard anything ranging from golden brown through to black.” He shrugged casually. “Don't think there's a word of truth to the reports, as I say, these fellas all admitted to drinking copious amounts of beer before they saw these supposed cats, but better to be safe than sorry, I guess. Just let Lucas know about them and tell the guys to keep a lookout if they're out in the woods. I know they all go hunting from time to time and I'd trust their impressions far more than the clowns who did the reporting.”
Chapter 31: Considerations of Murder
The drive home was uneventful, probably helpful as I mulled over the conversations I'd had most of the way home. Primarily, the conversation with Alison. Flicking through Ben's compact discs, I'd found some classical music and pushed it into the CD player, turning the sound up to a ridiculously loud level. It helped me to calm down, as each time I thought of Alison I found myself grinding my teeth in frustration. It wasn't that I didn't trust Lucas – I didn't trust her. Alison's reputation preceded her, I knew from Lonnie she went after every man she wanted with singular determination and it was apparent from her conversation at lunchtime that she wanted Lucas. The last straw had been discovering she would be at the wedding. I rolled my eyes in disgust – maybe she would change her mind and bring a partner. Or with luck, she might be hit by a car, or fall of a cliff.
The other conversation, which stayed uppermost in my mind, was the one with Sheriff Davis – he'd thrown me for a loop when he'd mentioned Lucas and hunting and although his comments had been made in innocence, I was freaked out by them. For a few seconds when he'd mentione
d hunting, I'd suspected he knew what Lucas and the others were. It was a simple enough remark, but was enough for me to lose my composure. Thank God, I'd managed to retain my equanimity and hadn't blown their cover by saying anything to the Sheriff.
Entering the driveway a little after four, the windscreen wipers were operating at full speed in an effort to cope with the torrential rain that was pouring down. The weather had deteriorated throughout the day and I was praying it would clear by Saturday, confident that Marianne would take a predictably dim view of bad weather on her wedding day.
Pulling up behind the house, I looked out into the gardens in amazement. While I'd been gone, the biggest marquee I'd ever seen in my life had sprung up on the freshly mown lawn, startlingly white against the green surrounding it. Even through the pouring rain, which ran down in sheets over the windscreen, I could see the men milling around, stripped down to jeans as they worked on the marquee. Branching off from the front of the marquee was a long covered aisle, which led all the way to the house. I guessed it had been added so the bride and groom could make their way to the marquee without getting soaked, a precaution in case the weather was as miserable on Saturday, as it was today.
There were other men too, and I wondered who they were. All were powerfully built, with muscular physiques. It was unusual to see outsiders at Lucas's home and I watched them for a few seconds, wondering if they were the vampires who would be visiting for the wedding. Despite my best intentions to handle everything calmly, I felt a shiver of apprehension work its way down my spine.
I turned the music volume down, not wanting to blast Ben out of the car the next time he got into it. As I was pulling the keys from the ignition, the car door was opened and Lucas appeared beside me, like a vision. He was shirtless and rain poured over his muscular shoulders, trickling across his hard chest. His denim jeans were soaked through and sticking to his powerfully built thighs. His dark hair was slicked back and he looked absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.
“Hi,” he grinned. “Beautiful day.”
“Uh huh.” I was mesmerized by a drop of rainwater, which trickled across his chest, rolling across one hard nipple before it dripped to the ground.
Lucas laughed, the deep sound booming into the car. “Where is your umbrella, my love? Let's get you inside.”
I struggled to pull myself together and drag my eyes away from his perfect, naked chest and snagged the umbrella from the floor in the passenger side before handing it to him. Lucas opened the umbrella and held it over me as I stepped from the car onto the wet gravel. He helped me around the house to the front door, pushing it open.
“I won't come in,” he announced, glancing down at his dripping jeans. “Marianne will kill me if I get the house messy.”
I nodded, trying, and failing, to keep my eyes averted from his bare chest and the wicked ideas that were racing through my head.
“I'll finish up and be in soon.” Amusement was apparent in his dark blue eyes. “Perhaps I should put a shirt on, to stop you being so tempted, love.”
I blushed crimson and he laughed again, turning to run back down the stairs into the rain.
Dropping the wet umbrella into the stand, I slipped my single shoe off before stepping through the entranceway.
Marianne met me before I'd taken five steps and captured me in a hug. “I'll get your paintings from the car. Gwynn is going to love her gift.”
Before I had a chance to respond, she'd slipped through the doorway and was back within seconds, carrying both parcels daintily. She'd run so rapidly, the brown paper wrapped around the paintings had hardly gotten wet.
“Marianne, I wanted the sketch to be a secret,” I grumbled good-naturedly. I knew where I'd gone wrong, I'd thought about giving it to Gwynn on the journey home, imagining how thrilled Gwynn would be. Focused on me while I was away, Marianne had obviously picked up on my thoughts.
The woman in question grinned. “Your secret is safe with me. When are you going to give it to her?”
“Rowena told me her birthday is next week, so I thought I'd give it to her then.”
“What a lovely surprise, she's going to be delighted!” She leaned the larger of the two paintings against the wall and smiled with pleasure. “I'll take this up to your room and hide it. Am I allowed to have my painting now?”
There was no way to be angry with her and I smiled back. “Of course.”
By the time I'd walked slowly into the living room, Marianne had been upstairs, deposited Gwynn's gift somewhere in my room and returned. Despite living here for a while now, the phenomenal speed at which vampires could move still amazed me.
Slumping gracelessly down onto the couch, I watched Marianne tear the paper carefully from her painting. Delight blossomed in her eyes as she appraised the finished portrait. I was pleased with it myself, the framing had perfected the piece I'd completed, and Marianne's family gazed at her, almost lifelike in the carefully painted brushstrokes.
“I absolutely love it,” Marianne announced, eyes shining as she stared at the portrait. “I can never repay you for what you've given to me.”
“You're more than welcome.”
Rowena strolled into the room, an enormous vase of roses in her arms, which she placed on the coffee table before she admired Marianne's painting.
“Where did you want to hang it, Marianne?” Rowena asked. “Did you want to place it here in the living room, or would you prefer to have it in your bedroom?”
“Here in the living room, so I can look at it all day long. We'll check with Lucas when he comes back inside, make sure it's okay with him.”
“Of course. We'll have one of the men hang it,” Rowena agreed. “I think perhaps over on the large wall, don't you?”
“Speaking of men, who are all those people out in the meadow?”
“Friends of mine,” Marianne explained. “They offered to help with the marquee and they're staying for dinner, so you'll meet them when they come in to wash up.” She rolled her eyes melodramatically. “Although given how much rain is pouring outside, they probably won't need to wash up.”
An image of Lucas, shirtless and perfect popped into my mind and I gulped, trying to ignore the lust that stirred deep in my groin. “Are they…”
“No, they're not vampires,” Marianne replied easily. “They're shape shifters.”
“Excuse me?” Seemingly, I'd heard Marianne incorrectly.
Rowena offered me a comforting smile. “They are shape shifters, Charlotte. They can transform from human to animal shape and back.”
“Never mind about that now. Would you like to tell me what happened in Puckhaber today? In particular, why you were considering murder?” Marianne demanded, shutting off any further questions regarding Rowena's comment.
Rowena didn't seem even slightly surprised and I realized Marianne had already told her what she'd seen earlier. “You haven't told Lucas, have you?”
“Of course not,” Marianne snorted indelicately. “But I do want to know what on earth made you think such violent thoughts?”
Rowena placed her hand on my arm, her touch delicate. “You're obviously very angry and I detect a touch of… jealousy?”
It was apparent that between Rowena's ability to sense emotions and Marianne's psychic power, there was no way to keep secret how I was feeling. I told them about lunch with Maude, Lonnie, and Alison Whitehead. When I'd finished my tirade against the blonde-haired vision whom so incensed me, Rowena smiled sympathetically. “Jealousy is one of the most difficult emotions to deal with, Charlotte, especially when you don't generally have a jealous nature. You really have nothing to worry about, dear; Lucas only has eyes for you.
“I know and I trust him implicitly. It's Alison Whitehead I don't trust,” I grumbled unhappily. “She has a reputation for going after what she wants and she's made it very clear she wants Lucas.”
“Are you absolutely certain you heard your mother correctly? You couldn't have misconstrued her message?” Marianne asked carefully.
She'd sat down beside me on the couch, her slender arm wrapped around my shoulder protectively.
“No, I'm pretty sure 'Watch out for her Lottie. She's interest in Lucas' couldn't be misconstrued in any possible way,” I responded through gritted teeth.
Marianne wrapped her other arm around me in a comforting hug. “I can easily cancel her invitation, you know. Whether she comes doesn't worry me one way or the other.”
I rolled my eyes, suddenly aware of my tactlessness. “I'm sorry, Marianne, she's obviously your friend and I've been awful, carrying on about her like this.”
Marianne chuckled. “She's more of an acquaintance than anything else. We attended cake decorating classes together.” Seeing my startled look, she grinned. “Alright, ridiculous I know, for a vampire to do cake decorating – I had a mad moment where I thought I might develop enough skill to decorate my own wedding cake.”
“How did it turn out?”
“Abysmally bad. For starters, they wanted us to bake our own cakes. After I nearly burnt the house down, Lucas banned me from a second attempt. Even without the cake fiasco, my attempts at making flowers from icing were ghastly.” She flashed her brilliant smile and I couldn't help but smile back. “Honestly Charlotte, whether Alison Whitehead attends or not is neither here nor there. We've invited half of Puckhaber Falls – one less will not matter.”
“Perhaps it would be for the best if Alison did attend,” Rowena mused thoughtfully. “It will prove to Charlotte that without a doubt, Lucas has absolutely no interest in any other woman but her. Maybe if she sees for herself that he will show not an ounce of interest in Alison, it will improve her belief in herself.”
Thinking about her words, I knew she had a point. I suffered from low self-esteem; perhaps having Alison here would be helpful. I knew without a doubt that Lucas wouldn't give her a second glance. Making up my mind, I turned to face Marianne. “Let her come, Rowena is right. Lucas will completely ignore her.”
“As you wish,” Marianne agreed simply. “Now, tell us about this letter from your father.”
Knowledge Revealed (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 1) Page 37