“Did you set an alarm?” I asked.
He patted his pockets. “It’s the surveillance device at Mrs. Huntington’s.” He pulled a gadget from his pocket that was the size of a watch and looked at it. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a werewolf.”
I hurried to his side for a better view. “Can you see who it is?”
“The system is scanning for a match now.” Lights blinked around the face of the gadget as it worked to identify the werewolf on the tiny screen. I recognized the dead flowers in the patch of garden at Mrs. Huntington’s house.
The lights stopped blinking and the image of the werewolf was replaced by a name—Jarvis Lightfoot.
“Neville, you’re a genius!” I punched his arm.
“Ouch!” he cried and rubbed his arm. “If you’re going to hit me, get out of strength training mode first.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m going to head over there now and stalk him.”
“Is that wise, Agent Fury? Perhaps wait until he goes home and returns to his human form.”
“I’ll be fine, Neville. He’s peeing on flowers, not robbing a bank at gunpoint. Let’s keep this in perspective.”
“He’s murdering living things.”
“Okay, now you sound like Mrs. Huntington.” I started toward the street where my car was parked. “I’ll update you when I know something.”
In the end, I decided to drive to Jarvis Lightfoot’s house instead, not that I would give Neville the satisfaction of knowing that I heeded his advice. A quick Google search directed me to his house on Provolone Lane. The interior lights of the house were off, so I parked in the driveway and sat on the stoop, waiting for him to return. Without thinking, I found myself playing on Little Critters. I’d installed the app on my phone because of Grandma, but I had to admit it was addictive, despite the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I quickly learned that if I tapped the screen often enough, I did something right.
“Can I help you with something?”
I glanced up to see a scrawny young man with disheveled brown hair. He was bare-chested and his jeans were a little too baggy, showing off the waistband of his boxers.
“Are you Jarvis Lightfoot?”
He frowned. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m Agent Eden Fury.” I produced my badge and held it up for inspection.
Jarvis leaned forward to study the badge. “Federal Bureau of Magic? Well, ain’t you special.”
“Jarvis, are you aware that public urination is a misdemeanor punishable by a fine or jail time?”
His body tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stood so that we were at eye level. “You’ve been shifting into your wolf form and giving Mrs. Huntington’s garden a golden shower.”
He grimaced. “No way, man. Do you even know what a golden shower is?”
Although Grandma was the expert on urban dictionary terms, somehow, I knew this was one I should research on my own. “You’ve been peeing on her flowers and killing them. She’s very upset.”
“What makes you think it’s me? There are dozens of werewolves in this town.”
“They don’t all shift and you were the only one caught on surveillance.” I offered a triumphant smile.
His smug expression crumpled. “You recorded me?”
“‘Fraid so. Can you explain why you’ve been targeting her garden?”
Jarvis raked a hand through his messy hair, making it even worse. “I’ve been…not myself lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t normally shift this much,” he said. “Once a month, maybe. Sometimes not even that.”
“Why the change?”
“I don’t know.” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “I just feel like it so, when the mood strikes, I do it.”
“And that’s unusual for you?”
“It is when it’s like this,” Jarvis said. “I’ll be in the middle of a project and feel like shifting. The other day I was fixing the kitchen sink and felt like shifting, so I left the whole mess and went running through the woods howling like some kind of animal.”
I squinted at him. “You are some kind of animal.”
He leaned a hand on the railing of the stoop. “I can’t explain it. I feel unsettled until I shift. Then I’m cool again for a little while until the pressure builds back up.”
“Why do you go to that particular place to…do your business?”
“I just follow the scent of where others have gone before me,” he said. “I know one of my buddies has urinated there before because he knows that old gnome hates our kind. I think I go there instinctively.”
Okay, so it seemed the shifting itself was more of an issue than the destination.
“Have you changed medications lately? Started a new one?”
Jarvis shook his head. “I don’t take nothin,’ not even vitamins.”
“Any stressful issues in your personal or professional life?” Sometimes a breakup or a job change could trigger a shifter’s need to get in touch with his primal side.
“Nope. Ain’t been dating nobody and job’s the same as it’s always been. It’s a real drag, but that ain’t new.”
“Can you think of anything unusual that might have happened to you recently?”
He hiked up his jeans. “Nope. Pretty boring, really. Maybe that’s why I’ve been shifting more. Trying to make up for how bored I am.”
“It’s possible, but it seems more like an itch you need to scratch than a conscious choice.” I tilted my head, studying him. “Run me through your last few days. Any chance you were near the marina?”
“There’s every chance,” he said. “That’s where I work. I’m a boat mechanic”
“Huh.” It seemed that whatever was affecting certain residents might also be affecting Jarvis Lightfoot. “Do you know Judy and Paul Masterson?”
He brightened. “Sure do. They keep their boat at the marina. Last Ark.”
“Have you seen them in the past few days?”
“Nope. I only see them if they need something for the boat.”
“Were you on their boat at all?” I was grasping at straws, but there had to be a connection. I felt it in my bones.
“Not in a few weeks.” He gestured to his front door. “Is that it? I’d like a shower. I always stink after I shift.”
“That’s it for now,” I said. “Do me a favor though—if you shift again, stay off Mrs. Huntington’s property. Just keep to the woods.”
He saluted me. “Yes, ma’am.” He started to move past me on the stoop. “You kind of smell. You sure you don’t want to shower? I’ll wash your back if you wash mine.”
“No thanks, Jarvis.” Guys like this baffled me. At no point during our conversation did I express a personal interest in him, yet he still felt perfectly at ease propositioning me. It had to be a matter of odds—the more often he tried this approach, the more likely that eventually some woman would agree.
“Your loss,” he said, and opened the front door.
“I saw the surveillance footage, Jarvis,” I reminded him. “I feel fairly confident that I’m not missing out.”
The door slammed behind him and I sauntered back to my car with a satisfied smile.
Chapter Thirteen
“I didn’t realize you had a boat here,” I said. I boarded the sleek Sea Ray at the marina for my clandestine date with the chief. I handed him the cooler I’d packed.
“How could I resist when I live right on the water?” he said. “Some of my favorite memories involve being on the water. I figured why not make more?” He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. His warm breath on my neck made my body tingle.
“We should probably keep our hands to ourselves or someone might see us,” I said.
“Right. Operation Top Secret. Sorry.” I felt his reluctance as he released me. “I guess that means no sleepover on the boat tonight.”
“That’s a definite no. If I didn’t come h
ome to the attic, my mother would send out her winged monkeys to find me.”
He chuckled. “Does she really have winged monkeys? I’m not sure what’s a joke anymore.”
“They’re real,” I said, “but she doesn’t actually have any.” I sat on the leather seat closest to him and let the chief play captain. He settled into the captain’s chair like a king ascending the throne—he was a natural. Watching him take command of the boat was unexpectedly appealing. I was accustomed to being the active one—the one to take charge or issue orders. This was a nice change of pace.
He skillfully maneuvered the boat out of the marina and into the bay. As we picked up speed, I enjoyed the wind in my hair and the scenery rushing by. I wished we could spend time together like this every day. I tried not to dwell on the negative and focus on the fact that we were on a date. A real date with food and sunsets and hopefully kissing. Once we reached his desired location, the chief dropped anchor and grinned at me.
“This is nice,” I said.
He bent down and kissed me. “We should probably eat first.”
“First implies something comes after,” I said.
“Something does,” he said with a suggestive wink. “Dessert.” He pointed to the sky. “Let’s wait until sunset though. It’s too pretty to do anything else right now except enjoy it.”
“Nature’s art,” I said.
We moved to the seats at the back of the boat so that we could snuggle together in comfortable silence. Ribbons of pink and orange streaked across the sky.
“There’s no place I’d rather be right now,” he said quietly.
Although I felt the same way, the words got stuck in my throat. Chief Fox didn’t seem bothered by my failure to respond. His lips grazed my cheek as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.
“Showtime’s over,” he said. “That was something special, though.”
“Do you have sunsets like that in Iowa?”
“I’ve seen beautiful lake sunsets,” he said. “I especially love when the reflection ripples across the water. Never had company as beautiful as tonight to enjoy it with though.”
“Well, that’s a lie. I met your ex-girlfriend, remember?”
His sea-colored eyes drank me in. “She didn’t hold a Yankee candle to you.”
“What about a Nest candle? Did she hold one of those?”
He chuckled. “Don’t know that brand so I can’t comment.”
“Time for the picnic?” I asked.
“Can it be called a picnic at this hour?” he asked.
“Of course.”
I opened the cooler and produced two wrapped turkey and cheese sandwiches on torpedo rolls.
“Next time I’m taking you somewhere nice, like Chophouse,” he said.
“No,” I said quickly. “We can’t go there.” Definitely not there.
“No, I guess not.” He took a thoughtful bite of the sandwich. “Explain to me again why we have to date in secret?”
I struggled for a good reason. “I just don’t think people should know about us. They’ll consider it a conflict of interest.”
“The police chief and an FBI agent? Why would that be an issue?”
“It’s in the FBM handbook,” I said.
His mouth twitched into a smile. “Yes, but the average resident doesn’t know about the FBM and I’m sure Neville will cut us some slack.”
“Neville is the prickliest rule follower you’ll ever meet,” I said. “And you can’t tell Sean. He’ll be too happy to ruin everything for me.”
“I have no intention of sharing details of my personal life with Deputy Guthrie. You have my word on that.”
“Good.”
The chief rubbed his jawline which brought my attention to his chin. I swore he did it on purpose because he knew how sexy I found that dimple.
“It sounds like we need to make a list of people allowed to know,” he said. He wolfed down the remainder of his sandwich and I was suddenly glad I’d packed extra.
“That sounds extreme. How about we just don’t tell anyone? Problem solved.”
He eyed me curiously. “You’re not going to tell Clara? Isn’t she your best friend?”
“Clara knows,” I mumbled. I shoved the rest of my sandwich into my mouth to avoid saying more. Now I felt like a hypocrite.
“Anyone else?” he asked.
“Sassy and Neville, but that’s it.” I didn’t feel the need to mention Alice since the ghost wasn’t a liability.
He clasped my hands in his. “Look, Fury, I’ll be honest. I’m not a big fan of secrets. They tend to cause more trouble than they’re meant to prevent.”
“But you’ll make an exception in this case, right?” I asked hopefully. Otherwise, this relationship was going to have to stop before it really started. I couldn’t put him at risk.
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I understand the need for privacy. I just don’t like it.”
“There’s another sandwich if you’re still hungry,” I said.
His eyes sparked with desire. “Oh, I’m still hungry.”
My fingers slid through his thick hair as his lips crushed mine. If I had to sneak around on a boat with him for the next ten years, it would be worth it for a taste of his salty lips.
The sound of music broke us apart. I turned to see a smaller boat heading our way. As it drew closer, I noticed the name Second Chance painted on the side in black scripted letters.
“Beautiful evening,” the older man on the boat yelled.
“Certainly is,” Chief Fox replied.
I peered into the darkness. “Isn’t that the groom from the party bus?”
“Hank,” the chief said.
I gave him a quick look. “You’re good at remembering names.”
He grinned. “Part of the job.”
Hank seemed to see us more clearly now. “Hey, there. I remember you two! The chief and the agent.”
I shrank back. The whole point of being on the water was to avoid being seen together. At least Hank didn’t travel in the same circles as anyone in my family.
“We’re running a confidential investigation,” I lied, “so we’d appreciate your discretion.”
“No problem,” Hank said, and saluted us.
A woman emerged from the shadows and slipped her hand into his. She looked close to his age with white hair and a deeply lined face. She wore a poppy-colored dress over her swimsuit.
“You must Jana,” the chief said. “How was the wedding?”
Mother of hellhounds. The chief really was good with names.
“It was perfect.” Hank pulled the woman in for a tight hug and smacked his lips against her cheek. “Isn’t she beautiful? I’m the luckiest man in Chipping Cheddar.”
“And I’m the luckiest woman.” Jana smiled adoringly at her husband. It was clear they were very much in love.
“Why don’t you have a drink with us?” Hank asked. “We have a bottle of champagne.”
“Still celebrating, huh?” the chief asked.
“Hard to stop when you get to wake up next to this one every morning,” Hank said. He kissed her again. I’d never seen an older man so effusive about his wife.
“It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we can manage,” the woman said.
“You’re welcome to board our boat instead,” the chief said. “We have plenty of space.”
“You sure do,” Hank said. “That’s a nice boat.”
“Thanks,” the chief said.
I took a seat while Hank lined up his boat with ours and the chief helped the couple aboard.
“Did you catch the sunset?” Hank asked. “It was spectacular.”
The cork was already popped so Hank poured the bubbling liquid into the plastic cups provided by Jana.
“Maybe just one more glass for you,” Jana said quietly to her husband.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted.
“The doctor said he should take it easy,” Jana explained. “His blood pressure was a little hig
h during his last visit.”
“It was the stress of the wedding, but that’s all over now,” Hank said. “Now I can just enjoy the rest of my life with this beauty.” He tipped back his cup and drained the champagne like it was water.
“Congratulations to both of you,” I said. “Is this your first marriage, Jana?”
“No, but I’ve been divorced for over twenty years,” she said. “Hank and I are all about second chances.” She rubbed his stomach with affection.
“I wish I was young again,” Hank said. “Then I’d have more time and energy for this spry thing.” He gave his wife a playful spank and she nearly spilled her champagne.
“Ever been married?” Jana asked.
“No,” the chief and I replied in unison.
“Don’t wait too long or you’ll miss out,” Hank said. “You’ll miss out on everything if you just watch from the sidelines.”
“Young at heart,” the chief commented. “I like it.”
Hank set down the empty cup. “How about we skinny dip? I haven’t done that in over fifty years and I honestly don’t know what’s holding me back.” Without waiting for a response, Hank began to strip off his clothes.
“Hank,” Jana said warily. “I don’t know that it’s such a good idea.”
“Don’t worry, Jana. You know I’ll only have eyes for you.” The striped boxers were the last to go before Hank jumped overboard.
“Cannonball!” he yelled, followed by a splash.
I ran to the edge of the boat and peered into the dark water. “Hank!” Sweat coated my palms. Before I could kick off my shoes to jump in after him, a blur shot past me and Chief Fox dove headfirst into the water.
“Hank!” Jana called. Her voice was frantic now. “How could he be so careless? He’s not twenty anymore.”
I couldn’t look at her—couldn’t even breathe. My gaze was fixed firmly on the water below. After a heart-stopping moment, the chief’s head bobbed to the surface, followed by Hank’s.
“Thank goodness,” Jana breathed.
From the way Hank’s head lolled to the side, I knew he was unconscious. The chief swam with one arm supporting Hank’s body, making certain to keep the old man’s head above the water.
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