Cry Wolf (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 4)

by Leighann Dobbs

  She looked up at him, her gaze narrowed. “Where’s your group staying while you’re in town?”

  “Over at the Route Nine Motel.”

  “Right.” She jotted that down. Seedy place, over on the other side of Silver Hollow. She’d been called over there a couple months ago to solve another murder. Not exactly a five-star establishment. “Is Levi Harding here now?”

  “Yep.” The guy pointed toward a tough-looking dude near the side of the gates where the guards were stationed. He had on a black leather vest with a gray hoodie beneath it. No coat. Which was odd, given everyone else at the mansion was bundled up like Eskimos. Then again, some guys did dumb stuff like risk frostbite just to prove how manly they were. An image of Caine, all snug inside his thick cashmere coat, popped into her mind. He might be irritatingly gorgeous, but at least he had the common sense not to pull some dumb stunt like Easy Rider over there.

  DeeDee made her way to Mr. Harding’s side. “I’m Deputy DeeDee Clawson. Silver Hollow Sheriff’s Department. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  Levi gave a one-shoulder shrug, not meeting her eyes.

  “Great,” she said, flipping to a new blank page on her pad. “Can you tell me where you were last night, Mr. Harding?”

  “After I left here at dusk, I went back to my motel.”

  “The Route Nine?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He shifted slightly against the iron post, the toothpick sticking out of his mouth wobbling up and down as he chewed on it. “That’s where all of us protestors usually go after a long day. A group of us went to eat at the little diner down the way from there, then we all went back to our rooms and went to bed.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Early. About nine thirty. Why?”

  “And you’re sure everyone stayed in their rooms the rest of the night, Mr. Harding?”

  “Yeah.” He wrinkled his nose and finally looked up at her, his expression reminding her of an angry bulldog. “Where else would we go?”

  “Good question.” From his cagey demeanor, she suspected he was lying. “Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Harding.”

  She flipped her pad closed and walked back to her cruiser, making a mental note to question Levi Harding again later.

  CHAPTER 4

  L ater that afternoon, DeeDee walked back into the office to find Owen hanging mistletoe over the door. She sidestepped around it, and Stan—who tried to trap her under it.

  Ewww.

  “What’s the matter?” Owen called as she walked to her desk in the corner. “Don’t want to get kissed?”

  “I’m allergic,” she said, tugging off her coat then hanging it on the nearby rack.

  “To kissing?” Owen joked.

  “To mistletoe.” DeeDee gave her boss a look as she took her seat. “Gives me hives and makes me sneeze.”

  Dex strolled in and smiled at her. “Hey. Owen and I stopped at the house the Rockwoods are renting on the way back here.”

  “Yeah?” she said. “How’d the widow take the news of her husband’s death?”

  “Not well,” Dex said. “She’s still in shock, I think. Poor thing didn’t know how to react when we told her, just kind of slumped there on her sofa.”

  “Didn’t that seem a bit odd to you, though?” Owen climbed down from the ladder and dusted his hands off on his pants. Never one to wear a uniform, Owen was dressed today as he always was—khaki pants and a loud-printed Hawaiian shirt. “There were no tears. Nothing. Especially after she said she didn’t even realize her husband hadn’t come home for the night.”

  “Really?” DeeDee frowned. “That does sound strange.”

  “Not really.” Dex sat back and stretched out his long legs. “Movies are a funny business. I remember one time when I lived in Ohio, some big-budget flick was getting shot near where I worked at the time. I had a day off, so I went out to the set to watch. Couple of the crew I talked to said it wasn’t unusual for them to work all night sometimes. I’d suspect this movie’s no different.”

  “That’s true.” Owen nodded. “Plus, she did say when Tucker worked late, he’d sleep in the den, which is downstairs from their bedroom. So, I guess it’s conceivable she wouldn’t know he was missing until she got up the next day. Even then, maybe she thought he’d gone in early or something.”

  “Okay,” DeeDee conceded. “But I still wouldn’t rule her out entirely yet. Spouses are always suspect number one in a murder investigation, right, boss?”

  “Right.” Owen walked back to his desk. “And Tucker made a lot of money from his acting. Which his widow would stand to inherit if he passed away.” He sat down then propped his feet up on his desk. “Let’s give her a little time to process her husband’s death, then we can go back tomorrow and talk to her again. What’d you find out from the rest of those protestors?”

  “Not much,” Stan said. He propped his hip on the corner of Dex’s desk. “All of them said the cast and crew were out in the daylight and could see themselves in mirrors.”

  Owen gave DeeDee a what-the-heck glance, and she quickly took over the conversation. What was up with Stan? He wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was here looking for paranormals.

  “All the protestors are staying over at the Route Nine Motel during their time here in Silver Hollow. Talked to their leader too. Guy named Levi Harding. He seems like a real piece of work, but I’m not sure he’s a killer. I’d still bet good money he was lying about where he was last night, though,” she said. “He got all shifty when I asked him about his location.”

  “Huh.” Dex rubbed his chin. “So we’ve got the widow and these crazy protestors for suspects.”

  “There’s also Caine Hunter, the movie’s producer-director,” DeeDee added. “A couple of the crew told me Tucker Rockwood demanded more money for his role in the film and threatened to quit if he didn’t get it. That would put Caine in a tough position financially.”

  “I still swear there’s more going on out at that mansion,” Stan said, scowling. “My instincts went haywire on that property, and I’m never wrong when I sense parano—”

  “Sure. Why don’t you tell me more about it while we get something to drink?” Dex pushed out of his chair and grabbed Stan by the arm, pulling him toward the exit. Sometimes it was easier than others to keep the town’s secrets from Owen. Dex patted Stan on the back as he escorted him out into the hall. “Vending machines are this way, Stan. My treat.”

  “That guy’s squirrelly, isn’t he?” Owen said, grinning. “Typical Fed.”

  “Yeah.” DeeDee stood. “I’m going to run to the restroom. Be right back.”

  She headed down the hall to where Dex stood while Stan made his selection from the machine. She talked softly so Stan couldn’t hear. “Your partner there thinks this has to do with paranormals, but I’m not sure it does. Do you think you can keep Stan the Man distracted long enough for us to figure it out?”

  Dex smiled. “I’ll do my best, Deputy. You really think this has no paranormal connection at all?”

  “Not sure,” she said.

  “Hey, guys.” Owen came down the hall toward them. “Ursula called. She’s got some preliminary results on the victim. Want to head over?”

  “Yep.” DeeDee and Dex followed Owen back to the office, with Stan trailing behind them.

  CHAPTER 5

  DeeDee pushed through the double doors in the basement of Silver Hollow General Hospital and spotted Ursula across the room. It would be hard to miss her. Those bright-purple scrubs all but glowed beneath the harsh fluorescent lights overhead.

  Her jet-black hair had been pulled back tightly into a bun, emphasizing her flawless pale skin and ruby-red lips. Stan nearly walked into the wall, he was so transfixed by the gorgeous ME. Luckily, DeeDee managed to redirect him in time as he stumbled past her and headed directly for the undead medical examiner. For a guy who was so intent on capturing a paranormal, he seemed clueless when actually faced with one.

  DeeDee and Dex exchanged a
here-we-go-again look, and she bit back a smirk.

  Owen, being Owen, went about his business, totally unaware of the situation. He stood off to the side, flipping through the pages of Ursula’s preliminary toxicology report and going over the tiny evidence bags she’d collected during Tucker Rockwood’s preliminary examination.

  Stan reached the table where the body was laid out and pretended to look the victim over, though anybody with eyes in their head could see his attention was fixed on Ursula the whole time. Every so often, she’d glance up from the instruments she was cleaning and give him a guarded stare.

  “Did you find anything abnormal during your initial exam of the body?” Stan finally managed to ask, his voice oddly high and squeaky.

  Ursula paused, a scalpel glinting between her fingers. “No.”

  Pressure built inside DeeDee’s head, then a tickle—a… a… A-CHOO!

  Her sneeze echoed loudly in the tile room, and she held up a hand in apology. “So sorry. Excuse me.”

  Two more sneezes and another bout of scratching followed, though not as bad as at the film set. There must’ve been more mistletoe around or traces of it left on Tucker’s clothes. She grabbed some tissues from a box on the counter and did her best to keep her scratching to a minimum. “What do those reports say, boss?”

  Owen looked up from the papers as if just now realizing there were other people in the room. He cleared his throat, a slight frown knitting his brows. “Let’s see. Tucker was forty-five. Time of death occurred around two a.m., but Ursula can’t say exactly when the staking occurred until after the full autopsy’s complete. From the amount of blood pooled on the left side of the body, it appears Mr. Rockwood’s corpse had been in that position for quite some time after death. The body was then moved at some point, as evidenced by the fact the victim was found on his back. Again, no exact time for the transfer.”

  “Any idea what the actual cause of death was then?” DeeDee asked.

  “Says here it was liver failure.”

  “Liver failure?” Dex asked.

  “Yep. The early toxicology reports show he was poisoned by a combination of two substances—phoratoxin and phosphorus.”

  “Phosphorus?” Stan tore his gaze from Ursula to glance at Owen. “As in baking soda?”

  “There are other substances containing phosphorus,” Ursula said, her voice as smooth as silk. DeeDee could see how vamps lulled their victims into a hypnotic daze. As a werewolf, she was immune, but poor Stan looked ready to drop to his knees where he stood.

  The medical examiner put down the last of her sparkling-clean instruments and came around the table to stand near Owen, who also seemed suspiciously immune to her undead charms. “Phosphorus can also be found in things like rat poison, fertilizers, fireworks, pesticides, and some household cleaners. Baking soda is fine in small doses, but if you ingest too much, it will kill you. It would have to be a heck of a lot, though, and our victim didn’t have enough of it in his stomach.”

  “Huh,” Owen said, his attention still focused on the reports. “What about this other chemical? I’ve never heard of a phoratoxin.”

  “Ah. I bet you have, you just didn’t know it.” Ursula winked over at DeeDee. “Phoratoxins come from plants. The one involved in this murder was Phoradendron tomentosum. Otherwise known as mistletoe.”

  As if on cue, DeeDee sneezed again.

  Owen glanced up at her. “You going to be okay there, Deputy?”

  She nodded from behind her tissue.

  “Why would our killer use these two particular chemicals together?” Owen asked Ursula.

  “Not sure. Perhaps they weren’t sure how effective one would be alone, so they doubled up on the poison as insurance.”

  “So Rockwood was poisoned,” Stan said, slowly moving around the table to where Ursula stood. “Then moved and staked through the heart. Takes a lot of force to drive something through the human body like that. I doubt Rockwood’s wife would have enough strength.” He frowned. “Unless she was a paranormal.”

  “I doubt that,” DeeDee said, hoping to cut that train of thought off at the knees. She shot Dex a quick back-me-up-here look.

  “I doubt there was anything like that involved, Detective Judge.” Ursula narrowed her gaze on Stan. “The stake wasn’t lodged deeply into the chest cavity. In fact, I’d say anyone with a mallet and a whole lot of anger could’ve done it.”

  Dex stepped forward, turning to DeeDee. “What about the lipstick-stained napkin you found in the victim’s pocket? When Owen and I talked to the widow, she didn’t look like the type to go for anything bright coral. Maybe Tucker had a girlfriend on the side.”

  “And if his wife found out, I doubt that would sit well with her,” DeeDee said, brainstorming their new list of suspects.

  “Any idea when the poison was ingested?” Owen asked.

  “Unfortunately, no.” Ursula crossed her arms, shoving her ample breasts higher. Stan’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. DeeDee bit back a laugh. Enthralled or not, the guy obviously had it bad for their medical examiner. “Since there’s no way to tell exactly what time the body was moved, whoever gave it to him could’ve administered it earlier then left him to die. So they might have an alibi for the exact time of death. They could even have put it in food they knew he would eat later.”

  DeeDee cringed. “That’s going to make it tough to verify alibis.”

  Owen set the reports aside. “Well, at least we know whoever murdered Rockwood would need access to the chemicals Ursula mentioned. My guess would be rat poison or a garden pesticide, since those would be the easiest to obtain without drawing suspicion. They’d also need a stake and the means to move a body.”

  “Movie sets usually have a prop room,” Dex said. “Saw those too on that set I visited back in Ohio.”

  “Great.” DeeDee moved toward the door, eager to get some fresh air and away from all that dreaded mistletoe. “I’ll head back to the film set first thing in the morning and check it out. See if someone logged out a wooden stake and didn’t return it.”

  CHAPTER 6

  A s she walked into her home that night, DeeDee couldn’t stop her brain from conjuring up images of Caine Hunter. She shrugged out of her bulky coat and tugged off her boots then walked into her log cabin’s small but well-appointed kitchen. Most werewolf shifters she knew kept their homes on the smaller side and cozy, like modern versions of their age-old favorite den.

  Not to say she didn’t have all the amenities. In fact, she’d had this cabin custom-built in the woods just outside Silver Hollow a few years back, once she’d made deputy at the department. The job title came with a hefty pay raise, and she’d grown her nest egg large enough to afford the down payment on her first home.

  The walls and cathedral-style ceiling in the living room were made of warm yellow pine, and the darker, stained oak floors gleamed beneath the recessed lighting. There was a huge outdoor patio in the back and a deck, which she sat out on at night and watched the stars or howled at the moon, depending on the time of the month. Her favorite part of the tiny house, though, was the huge stone fireplace. On cold winter nights, DeeDee loved to put on her flannel PJ’s, grab her latest embroidery project and a mug of hot tea, and snuggle beneath her blanket in her comfy chair before the crackling flames. She’d also filled her house with sturdy, neo-rustic-style furniture, big enough and strong enough to withstand the weight of a full-grown werewolf—and her husband, whenever he arrived.

  She made her way up to her bedroom in the loft and passed by the California King-sized bed. That was her second-favorite spot in the house. She’d spent lots of time picking out the perfect mattress then covered it with comfortable sheets and a snuggly down comforter. A plethora of pillows were strewn near the carved oak headboard, and four mighty wooden posts at each corner made her feel both protected and decadent.

  She changed out of her uniform. Instead of PJ’s tonight, though, she chose sweats. Excess energy and stress from the day still buzzed throug
h her system. She needed to burn off some of it, or she’d never get to sleep tonight. After using the bathroom, DeeDee secured her brownish-auburn curls into a messy ponytail at the base of her neck then pulled on her running shoes and an extra navy-blue sweatshirt stamped with the words “Silver Hollow Police Academy” across the front in white. A run would be just the thing to drain her adrenaline.

  Normally, she’d shift into her wolf form and go, but she also planned to stop by Issy Quinn’s place on the other side of the lake and see if the Quinn cousins knew anything about the Rockwood murder. They always seemed to be in the loop, and considering Brimstone’s appearance at the movie set earlier, she figured this time would be no exception.

  Shifting, though, meant no clothes allowed. And since DeeDee wasn’t in the mood to flash anyone tonight, having already used the secret stash of clothes she kept near Issy’s place without replacing them yet, jogging as a human tonight was the only alternative.

  After locking up her house, she set off down the lane toward the main road that led back into Silver Hollow proper. Whenever she took her runs, DeeDee was careful to stick to known territory. Venturing into the south side of town, especially at night, could be hazardous to one’s health. Mainly because the South Side Witches lived there and were known to put strange curses and spells on visitors who dared to cross into their territory. The warnings were meant to deter other witches from entering their lands, but sometimes werewolves got caught in the hexes too.

  The brisk cold felt good against her heated cheeks, and DeeDee picked up her pace, her breath huffing out and frosting as she ran. With the holidays just around the corner, many of the houses lining the street were bedecked with lights and decorations. Being single, DeeDee didn’t do much for the holidays around her place. She had a small Charlie Brownish-looking tree in the middle of her dining room table, and that was about it. When she’d been a kid, though, her parents had gone all out for her and her younger sister, Nia.