Mate Marked: Shifters of Silver Peak

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Mate Marked: Shifters of Silver Peak Page 8

by Georgette St. Clair


  Oh, thank heavens. He’s regained his senses, is turning himself in on the warrant—

  She saw Susan nod at the Juniper Police Department car parked nearby. So it wasn’t Roman.

  Chelsea swallowed her disappointment and accepted the pie and the preserves, thanking them both. “I would invite you in, but I’m assuming he’s here in an official capacity to discuss law-enforcement issues.”

  Susan nodded. “We took down the wanted posters of Roman, including the one in your office,” she said. “No sense letting the humans know our business.”

  “Good thinking.” Also, that meant she wouldn’t have to sit there and look at Roman’s face staring at her with that sexy scowl.

  “Come by the store later and tell me all the gossip,” Lorena said.

  “I’ll tell you what I can,” Chelsea said. She stifled a yawn as she went up to her office. She hadn’t slept well at the outlaws’ camp the night before. She’d gone home for a quick shower, and Erika was still taking care of Pepper, so she’d just dressed quickly and headed in to work. Maybe she’d have time for a nap later.

  Chief Tomlinson was sitting in her office, and on her desk was a large wicker basket full of sausages, jams and jellies.

  “Well, thanks,” she said, surprised.

  “That’s from Mitch Rodgers, actually. It’s kind of an apology, after I read him the riot act,” Chief Tomlinson said.

  “Kind of?” She sat down behind her desk.

  He sighed. “He still insists that someone from your pack is behind all this,” he said. “But he recognizes that his treatment of you when you brought back his lamb was inappropriate.”

  “Big of him. What did your investigation turn up?” Somebody had come into her office and started fresh coffee, Chelsea saw. Probably Susan and Lorena. It was that kind of town.

  As the chief spoke, she went over and poured herself them each a cup.

  “Well, like last time, we had an investigator fly in from the shifter council. A guy with bloodhound genes. He scented pure wolves, not shifters. He also scented the Dudley boys, but they already said they were there. He didn’t scent them on the dead sheep, just in the general area. He scented Mitch Rodgers and a couple of the ranch hands from Rodgers ranch, but since they’re his sheep, any of them could have handled the sheep recently.”

  He frowned, pausing to take a sip of coffee, and looked as if he were considering what to say next. “There were a few things that were off at the scene. Some blotchy areas in the mud that looked as if someone had deliberately dragged tree branches over footprints. And Rodgers asked me several times how well we’d searched the scene. And he asked me if my men were there watching the shifter investigator the entire time he was there. ”

  Chelsea Raised an eyebrow. “Did he say why?”

  “No, he just said that he’s sure shifters always cover for each other. But my men were there the entire time, and the investigator didn’t alter or hide any evidence.”

  “It’s odd that wolves would keep attacking Rodgers’ sheep,” Chelsea mused. “Game is plentiful in the area. I don’t know what to think at this point. I’ve asked around, and I’m not aware of any potential suspects in town.”

  “We’re setting out traps for the wolves, and increasing patrols, and Mitch is hiring a few more guys. He’s also starting to talk about how he may have to close up his ranch operations if this keeps up, which is stirring up some ugly sentiment in town, just letting you know. He’s one of the major employers, and if he closes down the ranch it will really hurt the town. He’s going around getting people to sign a petition that will allow him to annex that shifter land he’s been after.”

  “He might need to close up because he lost a few sheep?” Chelsea raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  “He claims he’s also worried about the safety of his ranch hands, but yeah, it seems a little over the top to me too.” He frowned. “Another odd thing. Someone has been building new sections of fence along the boundary between his property and the Dudleys’. He denies having built it. Joyce Dudley thought it was him doing it, and she was surprised when I told her it wasn’t. Apparently there have been some other repairs made on their property, and all along she thought it was Rodgers, because he’s kind of sweet on her, but he’s saying it’s not.”

  “That is odd. Okay, here’s something else strange, not that it necessarily means anything. Do you know who might have been visiting him from California, driving a Porsche?” Chelsea asked him. “There was a little red Porsche there the day I dropped by, and he accused me of spying on him and got really defensive.” She recited the license plate number to him.

  “I’ll run the plates,” he said. “Couldn’t hurt. Makes sense to check out anything that’s out of the ordinary. I understand that there’s a newer pack camping out on Silver Peak property, kind of near the Dudley ranch?”

  She hesitated. She wasn’t surprised that he was just now finding out about Roman’s pack. She personally didn’t like revealing information about shifters to a human law enforcement officer, but she had to give at least a little bit. He was here trying to cooperate, and he seemed like he was actually a good guy. He wasn’t letting Mitch railroad the local shifters or swing the investigation.

  “There is. They’re working for Mr. Purcell right now. They’ve already been here a few months without causing any trouble.” Well, that was mostly true. At least, they hadn’t been causing any trouble for the humans, that she knew of. “They make good money, and I don’t have any reason to think they might be involved.”

  Chief Tomlinson nodded. “I’ll go talk to them. If they’ve been here a few months…that is around the time that sheep started disappearing.”

  She nodded unhappily. “I understand.”

  * * * * *

  Shawn and Ryan crept through the underbrush. “We shouldn’t be here,” Ryan said nervously.

  Shawn scowled at him. Yes, they did so have to be there. They had to be on the lookout.

  “You didn’t have to come,” he said to his brother. “Go back now if you’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared. Joyce told us not to come,” Ryan said indignantly, keeping his voice low and looking around. They were right near the fence line that ran between their property and Mr. Rodgers’. “Joyce is not the boss of me,” Shawn said, puffing out his narrow chest and trying to pretend that he’d say that if Joyce was standing right there.

  Ryan gave a small snort of scorn. “Yes, she is.”

  “Then go back already,” Shawn said irritably. “Go tattle. Or be quiet and help me. We need to see if they’ve come back.”

  “There.” Ryan pointed ahead, his hand shaking.

  More sheep, with their throats torn out. Right on the property line between their land and Mitch’s land. And there was more.

  Shreds of cloth, scattered around the bodies. And wolf pawprints and human footprints. Like before.

  He had to erase them, quick, before the police got there.

  “Go back, Ryan,” he said urgently. “Go get help. Now.”

  For once, to his enormous relief, Ryan did what he was told. He turned and ran back towards the house.

  Shawn bent down to snatch up the shreds of cloth, and stuffed them in his pocket.

  As he turned to go, he heard the click of a rifle.

  It was pointed right at his head. “I knew it was you little bastards.”

  He heard bushes rustling and then Ryan, the little fool, came flying out, screaming “Get away from my brother!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zeke lay next to Holly, stroking her arm and staring down at her. She was beautiful, with bee-stung lips and high cheekbones, and silky black hair that fanned out on the bed like an ebony waterfall.

  They were in the cabin that Holly was renting, on the edge of Silver Peak. When the paper mill closed, the young man who had been living there had moved on. Holly had come to town a few weeks ago, looking to start a new life after the death of her husband.

  “I can’t w
ait for you to meet the pack,” Zeke said. “I’m just warning you that since you’re gorgeous, they’re all going to hit on you.”

  “Jealous?” Holly said, looking amused.

  “A little,” Zeke said. “Just let me know if any of them gets fresh, and I’ll knock them on their ass.”

  “But what if I like it?” Holly said, her full lips curving in a teasing smile.

  “Very funny,” Zeke said, trying to disguise that he felt faintly hurt. He and Holly had talked about getting exclusive. Once shifters got to that point, they were expected to forsake all others and definitely dial back on the flirting.

  Hell, Holly should know that. She was a young widow. Her husband had been killed in a challenge. She still bore his Mate Mark on her neck.

  “Just kidding,” Holly said. “Don’t be so sensitive.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just that I’m crazy about you.”

  “Well, you should be. I’m amazing. Tell me more about your Alpha,” Holly said. “Are you sure he’ll be okay with me joining your pack?”

  Zeke started to relax. She wouldn’t be talking about joining their pack if she wasn’t interested in moving on to the next level in their relationship. They hadn’t gotten quite that far, but Zeke’s plan was to someday place a Mate Mark on top of her old one.

  “He’ll be fine with it,” he said. “Like I told you, he’s generally too busy chasing tail and working ’til he drops to pay much attention to anything else.” He paused. “Although that might change soon—the part about him chasing tail, I mean.”

  He felt her tense up beside him.

  “What do you mean? What’s going to change?”

  Zeke kissed the top of her head. “Nothing that will affect you. He just met some woman that he seems interested in. The local sheriff, actually. It’s funny as hell, because she keeps trying to arrest him. But I can tell there’s something there. When he’s with her, when he talks about her, he acts different than I’ve ever seen.”

  “Maybe she won’t like me. Maybe she won’t want another female in the pack. She’s probably the jealous type.”

  Zeke wrapped his arms around her. “Sweetheart, if it comes down to it, you and I could just stay here together,” he said.

  She sighed and relaxed in his arms. “That’s sweet of you to say. And now, it’s been ten minutes since you last made me come, you lazy bastard. Why are you talking so much? I want you to fuck me now, big boy.”

  * * * * *

  Chelsea had an odd feeling as she pulled up in front of Joyce’s house, but she couldn’t have said why. Something had been bothering Joyce the night before at work, but Joyce had brushed off all Chelsea’s attempts to find out what was wrong.

  She’d also been downright curt to Paul, who’d looked crestfallen and finally left.

  Did that mean Roman’s pack was somehow behind the sheep thefts? Was that what was bothering her? Either way, it was obvious she didn’t want to talk about it at work, but maybe she’d feel more comfortable discussing it at home.

  Or not.

  When Chelsea approached the house, the front door opened right away. Joyce walked out and quickly shut the door behind her.

  She had circles under her eyes and she looked tired and stressed out.

  “Hey Joyce, is everything okay?” Chelsea asked. “I could tell something was bothering you. Is it anything I can help you with?”

  Joyce ran her hands over her face, and nodded with a grimace.

  “Everything’s fine,” Joyce said. “I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot of shifts, and you know those boys and my grandmother. They wear me out.”

  It seemed like more than that, though. Joyce was nervous about something. She was shifting from one foot to the other, and acted as if she wanted to glance back at the house but was restraining herself.

  “Are you sure that’s it?” Chelsea asked.

  “Positive,” Joyce said.

  “Okay. And there haven’t been any more sheep killings? So far, it looks as if a regular wolf, not a shifter, killed those sheep. The police chief is stepping up patrols and putting traps out.”

  “That’s great. I’m glad to hear it,” Joyce said. “There haven’t been any more sheep killings that I’ve heard of. I knew it wasn’t Roman’s pack. Everything’s been quiet here, nothing to worry about.”

  She was fidgeting, anxious, clearly wanting Chelsea to leave. She did seem sincere when she said that she knew it wasn’t Roman’s pack, though.

  “All right. Well.” Chelsea wished she knew what was wrong, but it was clear she wouldn’t get anywhere by sticking around.

  She hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “If you need anything, you know where to find me,” Chelsea said, and she turned and headed back to her truck.

  Joyce quickly stepped back inside. She stood peering out the window past the small lace curtain and watched Chelsea pull away, feeling sick.

  “Nice job,” Mitch Rodgers growled in her ear. She started. He was standing uncomfortably close to her, his hot breath on her ear, leaning in. She took an involuntary step back, which made him scowl. He moved forward, crowding her. Her grandmother wandered by them, holding a pot of hot coffee.

  “Tea, dear?” she said cheerfully to Mr. Rodgers, and began pouring coffee on his foot. He let out a scream of pain and jumped back.

  “Grandma! Not now,” Joyce said, grabbing her grandmother by the arm and dragging her into the kitchen. She was secretly pleased, however. Not just because she wanted savage, painful revenge on Mitch Rodgers for threatening her family. She also wanted him to stop staring at her in that creepy way, making her stomach churn.

  Mitch Rodgers stormed into the kitchen after them, swearing.

  “She does that on purpose!” he howled.

  “No, she doesn’t! She’s senile! She does not have any clue what she’s doing!” Chelsea said, quickly stepping in front of her grandmother. “And you are not to harm anyone in my family. You promised.”

  “I’ve got my eye on you,” Mitch growled at Edna.

  “Tea, dear?” she began pouring coffee again, but this time he managed to jump out of the way just in time, swearing. Joyce took the coffee pot away from her grandmother.

  “I did what you asked. I got rid of her. Now I want my brothers back,” she said, her stomach churning. She was sick with worry.

  Mitch had grabbed them two days ago. Said that they were trespassing on his property; she didn’t know if that was true, but either way, he had them. She didn’t know where they were being held. If she called the police, Mitch had sworn that her brothers would be dead long before the police could find them.

  “You’ll get them back when all of this is done,” Mitch growled at her, limping towards the back door. “And it would be a smart idea for you to start being a little nicer to me.” There was a leer on his face this time, and the way that his gaze roved over her body made her feel physically ill.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The school bus echoed with the shrill sound of “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

  “Almost!” Chelsea yelled for the millionth time.

  “He’ll never know what hit him.” Erika snickered. Chelsea grinned. She’d decided to switch tactics. She’d also decided it would be fun to play dirty.

  It was obvious she wouldn’t be able to physically subdue Roman and drag him off to jail, so she was bringing his pack’s worst nightmare right to their doorstep.

  What’s the worst nightmare of a commitmentphobe? Children.

  Fifteen of them. So many that they’d had to borrow a school bus to transport them all.

  Erika had gathered up all her nieces and nephews and younger cousins, who apparently were a wild, out-of-control handful. So far, they were living up to their reputation.

  Pepper was enjoying a visit with Lorena, who liked having her in her store. The pack members would come in and give her treats.

  They drove down the dirt road that led to the camp. The sun had just risen; she wanted to make sure
she got there before the pack headed off to work.

  Chelsea parked by the side of the road, flung open the door and waited as all the kids scrambled out.

  “Remember, everybody, outlaws like lots of noise!” she called to them as she led them along the dirt trail towards the encampment.

  They were hollering loud enough to wake the dead. In case anybody was still sleeping, she shouted, “Good morning! Rise and shine!” at the top of her lungs. The pack members were staggering out of their tents already, half dressed.

  “Hello, everybody! Newsflash!” she yelled. “These kids wanted to come meet some real, genuine outlaws. Hey, Rafe, how you doing today?” she asked, as a young boy named Harvey shifted into cub form and hurled himself into Rafe’s arms. Rafe caught him and stumbled backwards, too shocked to speak.

  “So here’s how it’s going to be,” she continued, as Roman strolled up to her. He was wearing khaki shorts and sandals and nothing else. She blinked, trying not to stare at the swell of his biceps and his lean, muscular frame.

  Everybody was staring at her. Waiting for her to speak.

  She cleared her throat.

  “We’re going to be hanging out here all day. And probably all night. School just let out, summer camp had to close because of lack of funds, and these cubs are driving their parents up the wall. They told us we’re welcome to stay here as long as we like. Weeks. Months. In fact, they’ll come here and join us for cookouts. Pansy, stop biting Benjamin’s ankle! Go for the thigh, much meatier.”

  “Ouch?” Benjamin winced as he tried to pry the little girl from his leg.

  “Wow,” Roman said admiringly to her. “You’re no quitter, I’ll give you that.”

  “Damned straight.”

  “Watch your language, there’s children present.” He said it with a smirk.

  She snorted. “They are uncorruptible. They’re a bunch of little savages.”

  “Chelsea, I’m surprised at you.” He shook his head with an expression of mock disapproval. His silky hair flowed over his shoulders, and she swallowed hard, imagining what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. “Where are your maternal instincts?”

 

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