The Werewolf Upstairs

by Ashlyn Chase

  “Oh, God,” he groaned.

  When she didn’t answer, he levered himself up on his elbows and gazed at her face. Shock registered in his eyes. “What’s wrong, angel?”

  “Nothing.” She sniffed. “Not a damn thing. Everything’s right…except you’re a werewolf.”

  He inhaled deeply. “We’re back to that again, are we?”

  She chuckled, realizing that she must be confusing the hell out of him. “No, it’s not like that. I just… I don’t know. Maybe you could call it a breakthrough or something. I just realized that…well, like you said to me before. You’re the one, Konrad. I won’t look elsewhere.”

  He dove for her mouth, kissing her deeply. When she thought she was going die if she didn’t take a breath, she pushed against his chest lightly, and he broke the kiss.

  “Whew,” she said and panted.

  He smiled. “I know.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair. “God knows how we wound up together…the werewolf and the human.”

  “The lawyer and the thief…”

  “But we belong together.”

  “Thank God.” He laid his head next to hers and whispered, “You’ll never regret loving me. I’ll be good to you. I promise.”

  Chapter 14

  Roz walked through the purple door of the beauty school and salon where she and Morgaine had gone before. Beverly, the head instructor, stood next to a student working on a haircut and glanced over her shoulder.

  “Back again so soon? Is there a problem with your color?”

  Roz said, “Not the color. Look.” She turned around to show off her singed ends.

  The woman in the student’s chair gasped.

  “Oh, no! That damage isn’t from the student,” Beverly was quick to point out. She rushed over. “What happened?”

  “Uh, it was a cooking accident.”

  “Holy smokes!”

  Roz chuckled. “You can say that again. Is there any way it can be fixed?”

  “We’ll have to try. My best student is just finishing up. Caroline, are you happy with your hair?”

  “Very, considering I didn’t come out looking like that.” She pointed to Roz.

  “I don’t want to bump any of your scheduled clients. I just wanted to show it to you, first to see if you can fix it, and second, so you could figure out how much time you’ll need.”

  “I can’t let you walk out of here looking like that. I trust the girls to finish what they’re doing without my hovering over them. I’ll take care of you myself.” She spoke to the student. “Anna, take your client to the front desk, please.”

  “Okay, but as soon as I do that, can I watch what you’re doing?”

  “Sure, fixing things like this would be good for you to see. In fact, all my students should see it. Do you mind, Roz?”

  “I guess not.” Hmmm…I’m a guinea pig after all.

  The client got out of the chair and gestured to it. “Here. You need this more than I do.”

  Roz thanked the tactless woman and got comfortable in the black leather chair. Beverly walked around the salon and gathered students who weren’t in the middle of anything time sensitive.

  Anna walked her client to the front desk and returned. “That’s a shame. You’re lucky it was in the back, though. You could have singed off your eyebrows.”

  “Yeah, and have to draw them on again every morning.” At least I still look all right lying on my back. I’m glad Konrad can wait for doggie style a little longer. “You’re right. It could be worse.”

  “You know, you could always go for the Victoria Beckham look. It’s very chic.”

  “That would be great, if my hair will cooperate.”

  Beverly chimed in as she made her way back with three more students. “I was just thinking of doing that. A wedge in the back and longer in front. Anything shorter, and you’d look like a boy.”

  Roz sat up straight and raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean that you’re not feminine. You’re beautiful! Really.”

  Okay, she still earns a tip.

  “So, what happened?” Anna asked.

  Roz smiled despite herself. “I was taking a cooking class with my boyfriend. If we’d been paying nearly as much attention to the stove as we were to each other, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  The girls laughed.

  “Love,” said Beverly. “It can be hazardous to your health.”

  Despite her embarrassment, Roz liked the idea of helping students learn, which is why she’d come to the school instead of an upscale Newbury Street salon in the first place. Well, that and the three-hundred-dollar difference.

  “Okay, girls. For singed hair like this, what do you think you should do? Dry cut it, or wash and cut?”

  The students sounded as if they were split about evenly on the answer.

  “Well, I’d cut it dry first, just to get the hair all of the same integrity, then wash it and cut it again.”

  I’m bound to be here all day. The girls looked so interested, though. Roz decided, What the heck. “Go for it.”

  Beverly looked excited too. She probably hadn’t had the chance to show off her skills for a while. She combed out the parts that weren’t burned first, blunt cut the extra length off, and then pulled the back of the hair out straight.

  “Ugh, what a mess,” one of the students said.

  Roz saw Beverly squint at her in the mirror. “Is that the way to talk to clients?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She’s right. My hair is ugly.

  Beverly continued teaching, “If you were going to do a layered look, you’d start from here and work toward here, but in this case—”

  Roz tuned her out for a while. All she knew was she wanted to come out looking good. Good for Konrad? Good for court? She was happy when she realized she just wanted to look good for herself. She was ready for a change. “It must be fulfilling to take someone from icky to beautiful.”

  “Oh, it is,” Beverly said. “When you know someone leaves your chair ten times happier than they came in, it’s the best feeling in the world. Isn’t it, girls?”

  They all nodded and murmured agreement.

  Roz had an epiphany. “How long does it take to complete a hairdressing course?”

  “It depends. Most programs are under a year, and then you have to pass an exam to get your license. For young beginners, I recommend a vocational school or junior college for formal training. Some with experience can go to an advanced program and learn salon ownership and management.

  “This is a good time to get into hairdressing, especially in the city. Predictions are for steady employment growth, especially in upscale urban salons.”

  “Seriously? So what if I wanted to wind up in one of those really high-end salons on Newbury Street? What training would you suggest for someone like me?” How cool would that be? Konrad and I could own a trendy salon, and I wouldn’t have to worry about women hitting on him, because they’d all assume he was gay. Wait a minute, I don’t have to worry about that anyway, because he’s monogamous.

  “You? I thought you were a lawyer.”

  “Yeah, but I’m tired of cutting people off at the knees. I think I might like cutting their hair and making them feel better instead of worse.”

  Beverly grinned. “I’d like to recommend this school, but if you can afford it, there are a couple of places with names you’d recognize.”

  “Like?”

  Beverly glanced at her students. “I’ll write down the information for you later.”

  ***

  Morgaine explained to Roz that she couldn’t just drive Chad to the museum. Spirit energy wasn’t like occupying a corporeal body. If he sat in the backseat, as soon as Roz rolled out of the alley and onto the street, the car would take off, and Chad wouldn’t. Apparently it made Roz picture an episode of Casper the Friendly Ghost in her brain, and she laughed. Chad wasn’t amused.

  The trio strolled up Brookline Avenue with the int
ention of walking Chad to the Gardner Museum. It was only a couple of miles, but for Morgaine it was a big deal. Agoraphobia meant fear of open spaces. Riding in a car could still be problematic, but walking outside, in public, made her chest tighten and her pulse race. Remember, she told herself, millions of dollars in reward money.

  After that, their plans were fuzzy. Morgaine would try to summon Reginald and let the two spirits communicate while she listened in.

  “Morgaine, thanks for speaking to Chad. Is he still with us?”

  “Chad?”

  “I’m here,” he communicated halfheartedly.

  “Don’t sulk. You agreed to help Konrad, remember?”

  “I’m not sulking. I’m looking at that big-ass bridge over the highway.”

  Morgaine came to a halt. “B…bridge?”

  Roz’s hand covered her mouth. “Oh, no. I read about agoraphobia. Fear of bridges was mentioned specifically.”

  “Yeah. I feel pretty exposed on bridges. But I think Chad sounded nervous about it too. She took a deep breath and grounded herself. “Are you saying you might have trouble crossing the bridge, Chad?”

  “It’s the wind.”

  “What wind?”

  “From the traffic below. If it kicks up at the wrong moment, I’ll be blown halfway to Brighton. If memory serves, the turnpike is always busy, so this bridge is almost always windy. It’s been nice knowin’ ya.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Roz cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

  A young woman wearing jeans and a sweater approached from the other side of the bridge. Her long, sandy hair suddenly lifted in the wind and wrapped around her face. She grasped it, twirled it into a ponytail, and knotted it behind her head.

  Morgaine whispered furiously behind her hand to Roz. “Even if I manage to cross this thing, Chad says he could be blown off course by the wind from the highway below.”

  Morgaine and Roz turned to each other and at the same time uttered a worried, “Oh, no.”

  Roz looked crestfallen. “How are we going to manage this?”

  Morgaine wrung her hands. “I guess it wasn’t such a good idea.”

  “Hey, kids. Don’t give up so easily. I can try to use the two of you as a shield. If that doesn’t work, I’ll simply make my way back as soon as I can.”

  Morgaine waited for the woman to pass them before she answered. The woman hung her head and didn’t make eye contact, so there was no need to say hello. When it was just the two—or three—of them again, Morgaine said, “Chad, that’s really decent of you. I didn’t realize you cared about Konrad so much.”

  “I don’t, but you said something that made me think.”

  “Really? What was that?”

  “You said he’d do the same for me. And you were right. In fact, recently, Joe and Gwyneth were making whoopee over his head, and something made him think the noise was me trying to get someone’s attention. He actually got off his butt and came upstairs to see if there was anything he could do.”

  “Even though he can’t communicate with you?”

  “What’s he saying?” Roz asked.

  “He said he realized Konrad would do the same for him. Come to think of it, Konrad’s the one guy in the building everyone counts on for help if they need it.”

  Roz smiled. “That’s my guy…or werewolf or…whatever.” Her expression turned serious again. “Are you sure I’m not going to be in danger if he shifts when he’s with me?”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “He said he’d never attack me, that a werewolf will protect the pack, especially his mate and pups, over all others.” She shook her head. “I still can’t get used to the idea of calling children pups!”

  Morgaine raised her eyebrows. “Are you saying you might give birth to a litter of wolves?”

  Roz let out a howl of laughter. “No. He was human until about age ten, when he was bitten, and unless the children are turned, they’ll stay human.”

  “Whew! That must be a relief.”

  “Yeah, somehow we’ll make this work…if I can keep him out of jail.”

  “Then we need to talk to Reginald and get him to admit to planting false evidence. I’m still not sure how we’re going to get Chad to the museum.”

  “Okay, let’s figure out a way.”

  “Chad said we might be able to shield him from the wind. What if we make sort of a ‘bat wing’ thing,” Morgaine suggested. “If we wrap our arms around each other’s waists and hold our coats open on either side, we should be able to create a fairly wide shield. If I can close my eyes and let you lead, it might help me, too.”

  “It figures you’d think of bat wings,” Chad said. “Let’s try it.”

  The two women put their arms around each other’s waists and shimmied sideways across the bridge.

  Roz glanced over at Morgaine. Her eyes were squeezed shut.

  “I feel pretty foolish doing this, don’t you?”

  Roz laughed. “Not really. There’s an art school on the other side of this bridge. You wouldn’t believe some of the strange things I’ve seen happen here.”

  “Like what?”

  Roz grinned. “Streaking, bed races, rainbow parades that had nothing to do with gay rights…”

  The two women chuckled and continued to shuffle across the bridge side by side. “Are you still with us, Chad?” Morgaine asked.

  “I’m here. Oh, shit. Here comes a truck, stay as close together as you possibly—”

  Morgaine stopped.

  Roz took a step without her. “What’s wrong?”

  Morgaine paused. “Chad?” When he didn’t answer, she called out louder. “Chad?”

  Roz stared at her wide-eyed. “Oh, no. Is he—?”

  Morgaine let out one final cry, “Chad? Where are you, God damn it? If you’re playing some kind of game—”

  Silence.

  “Shit. We lost him.” Morgaine wailed and tossed her free hand in the air. “Now what?”

  “Let’s keep going.”

  Morgaine swallowed hard. Roz was right. She couldn’t stay there. “Hopefully Chad will meet us at the museum, and if not, I’ll try to talk to Reginald myself. I just don’t know if I can persuade him to change his story.”

  Morgaine and Roz resumed a more natural pose, as long as Roz’s arm around Morgaine’s waist was considered natural. With Morgaine’s eyes closed, the two women walked next to each other over the rest of the bridge. Morgaine opened her eyes and continued along the sidewalk toward the Fenway.

  “What made Chad think he could get the other ghost to recant?”

  “You know what karma is, don’t you?”

  Roz nodded.

  “It exists on the other side too. Chad thinks he’s improved his karma since he stopped driving tenants out of the building. He hopes to transcend this plane and go to a higher one as soon as the powers that be notice.”

  “And he thinks Reginald will want to do that too?”

  “He claims that without someone to talk to, being trapped on this plane is sheer torture. He used to amuse himself with pranks on the residents, but we figured out that his behavior was probably the thing holding him back.

  “Joe Murphy solved his murder case, so his unfinished business was finally finished. Unfortunately he still didn’t see any beam of light or porthole or anything to indicate he was welcome to transcend, so he made an excuse to stay around, saying he wanted to know how karma paid back his murderers. The truth is, it’s his own karma that’s in trouble. He can’t transcend, even though he wants to.”

  “That’s terrible. So he’s cleaning up his act?”

  “He’s trying to. He’s been such a smartass for so long, I don’t expect miracles overnight.”

  Roz kept walking. “At least he has you to talk to. If Reginald hasn’t had anyone to communicate with for all these years, he’s probably losing it.”

  “That’s what Chad thought. I mentioned there was something ‘
off’ about his energy and that he reminded me of Chad when I first moved into the building, before we discovered we could talk to each other.”

  “So Chad was losing it before he had you to talk to?”

  “Yeah. He was going stark, raving bananas. You’d think Reginald would be nicer to me when I show up to talk to him, but maybe he knows it won’t last.”

  “That could make him feel even worse, having a taste of companionship but knowing it will end as soon as the case is closed. Now it makes sense that he’d give false clues. Anything to keep you there.”

  “I know. If only I could find someone to talk to him on a regular basis.”

  “Why not you?”

  Morgaine waved away the question. “If it weren’t for the money…I have to make a living. Something tells me the museum won’t hire me to chat up its disgruntled ghost.”

  Roz made a “Hmmm” noise as if thinking of a plan.

  Morgaine remained quiet. Maybe the smart lawyer could come up with a solution if she let her mull it over.

  ***

  “Reginald, please listen to me. I’m a lawyer, and seeing justice done is my job.”

  Reginald regarded the two women while one tried to reason with him and the other acted as his mouthpiece.

  He had nothing to lose. What if he did plant the hairs and lie about it? The police couldn’t lock him up for falsifying evidence or perjury. He was already in his prison and had been there for decades. The curvy young woman with the brown and blonde strange hair could go pound sand.

  “I’ve done nothing of the kind. I merely reported what I saw.” Hearing his words come from a woman’s mouth was still bizarre, but at least he finally had a voice.

  “You saw Konrad take the guards to the basement and duct tape them almost twenty years ago?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. I said they missed a piece of evidence, and I told Morgaine where to find it.”

  The lawyer shook her head and looked disgusted. “Morgaine told me what our friend, Chad, was going to tell you before he got—uh, waylaid.”

  “Yes, about that. What detained your ghost? Why didn’t he come with you?”

  “I’ll let him explain when he gets here,” Roz said. “Meanwhile your testimony, which can only be considered hearsay, is causing an innocent man major problems. I think you should recant.”