“You any good with auto mechanics, Sally?” Monroe switched gears fast. “Work on your own car at all? Change your tires, your fluids?”
Sally shook her head. “I just have the gas station guys fill the tank when it’s empty, and take it in when the check engine light comes on.”
Now, Goldfarb changed it up. “So you closed your bar at two a.m. and then decided to go camping in the freezing cold, is that right?”
Not sure where any of this was going, she pulled a single chestnut out of all the mystery books and cop TV shows she’d enjoyed. “Should I be talking to you without a lawyer?”
“If you’ve got something to hide, you should have a lawyer present,” Goldfarb challenged. “What are you hiding?”
Sally blinked, trying to sort out that loaded question. It was a very similar one to the questions the deputies asked, which landed her in this little room. As if on cue, a woman burst into the room. She was a little shorter than Sally, willowy and athletic, with long dark hair that hung to her hips. Her features were broad, her skin a sandy color that spoke of the beach, and if not for her power suit and briefcase, she might be mistaken for a surfer.
Obsidian eyes met Sally’s. “Did the deputies that arrested you mirandize you before taking your cell phone?”
“No.” Who was this?
“Unless you’re going to charge my client, we’re done here, Detectives,” the surfer said.
Client? Sally stood, following the woman out of the interrogation room. She doubted she could afford a lawyer, let alone a lawyer that looked like a surfer. Still, she would’ve sold her left foot to get away from those detectives.
The two of them walked to the courthouse parking lot. “I’m Iwalani Johnson, Sally; Felicity Malkin called me when she heard what happened.”
“Maybe you can explain it to me?”
“A friend of yours went off the road in his truck near the summit of Mount Hood.”
Sally started. “Thorn? The cops were asking me about him.”
“That’s right,” Johnson led her to an SUV. “Apparently, Thorn was led up this particularly twisting section of road by a text begging him for help. The text came from your cell phone.”
“What?” Sally stopped short. “No. That’s—”
“Impossible, right?” Iwalani suppressed a smile. “Because you had no thumbs.”
Sally’s voice was all air. “You know?”
“Of course. While I run a general criminal defense practice, I have a great interest in keeping cases involving shifters out of the spotlight. Attempted homicide is the kind of case that draws attention. Otherwise, you’d have to sell your little bar just for getting you out of that interview room.”
The bear, the bar, the near abject poverty--“How can you know so much about me?”
“That would be my doing.”
A man approached, and Sally’s heart leaped in her chest. He wore a fedora—who wore fedoras anymore?—and a long black trench coat over a navy suit with chalk pinstripes. He wore adult dress shoes. He wore a periwinkle shirt and perfectly matching tie. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a film noir. His build was compact, skin that boasted both the heat and color of melted caramel, hair as black as midnight and eyes the green of spring buds. “Who are you?”
“Oscar León, private investigator.”
“Oh, wow, a private dick,” Sally said, and slapped a hand over her mouth. A blast furnace opened up behind her face. At the same time, it felt like something inside her stood up and took notice of the man. A sensation, something more than an emotion and less articulate than an inner voice vied for her attention.
Oscar’s cupid bow lips curved into a slight smile. “If you like.”
Before she could stop herself, she said, “Do you want to slap on the cuffs and pat me down?”
Instead of giving her a look like she was the most enormous dork in the free world, he studied her with an expression of recognition.
“A woman as attractive as you? ¡Madre de dios—sí, sí, sí! However, this is the third night of the moon, and you are still drunk with its power. I could not call myself a gentleman if I took advantage of this.”
“You’re moon-blushed,” Iwalani said. “It happens to novice shifters, until they gain better understanding. Don’t be embarrassed.”
Sally blushed so hard, she felt her skin stretch. Don’t be embarrassed, mega-goober. Yeah, right.
“Speaking of understanding, we need to hear your story, Sally—your real story.” Oscar lifted his chin and closed his eyes. “I think I smell a good place for lunch.”
“Seafood?” Iwalani asked.
Oscar knitted his brows at the attorney. “Naturalmente.”
Chapter Two
The restaurant on First Street looked a lot like the Squirrels Nuts, the bar Sally owned. Oscar waltzed through the batwing doors like he owned the place. He flung his hat onto a rack. A Barbie doll waitress smiled and greeted him by name. Thunder broke in Sally’s heart. Before she could contemplate scratching the server’s eyes out, rational thought took over. How could she be so jealous of a man she’d known for ten minutes?
“Your regular table won’t be ready for a few minutes, Oscar,” the waitress ran a hand down the private eye’s arm. Sally thought about punching her face out.
Oscar’s eyes took in the room, the street behind them. “We’ll wait.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated at a quiet table in the corner. Oscar took the seat with his back against the wall, green eyes in constant motion.
Iwalani pulled a yellow legal pad from her briefcase. “Here’s what we know. Thorn responded to your text, which basically said ‘help me, I’m naked outside Timberline Lodge.’ When he didn’t hear back, he drove up the mountain.”
Sally gazed at the ceiling. The whole thing sounded so—so Sally.
“But someone tampered with the vehicle. The exhaust system of his truck was compromised. Since it was a cold night, his windows were rolled up, and the cab filled with enough carbon monoxide to incapacitate him at a dangerous curve.”
“Is he hurt?” Sally asked, stunned.
Iwalani patted her hand. “He’s recuperating at home. From what I hear, it would take a lot to actually injure the man.”
Oscar leaned back in his chair, gazing at Sally from under half-lidded eyes. “Tell us your side of the story.”
At that point, the Barbie doll waitress interrupted. “Would you like the usual appetizer, Oscar?”
“Por favor.” Oscar gestured to Iwalani and Sally. “Calamari dijonnaise?”
“That’s me,” Iwalani said.
Sally just shrugged and gave the server the stink eye.
When Barbie departed, Oscar leaned closer. Sally could smell him, like soap hand-made by angels. “This will be in strictest confidence. We are all shifters here. Please, Sally, tell us what happened.”
Even though he had moved just a few inches closer, Sally felt herself swoon. Sure, Oscar was good looking, a snazzy dresser, smelled good, and had a smooth accent that made her toes curl, but she was crazy overreacting to him. She made an effort to pull it together. “There isn’t much to tell.”
Oscar rolled his hand. “Sigues, sigues.”
Sally noticed a scar on his wrist, thick and snaking around it. He noticed her staring, and shot his cuffs to hide the old wound.
“Sigues—please continue.”
She felt a little embarrassed, staring at his scar like that. Sally closed her eyes, remembering. “It was only my second full moon as a shifter, my first time alone. I had to make preparations.”
***
Sally glanced at the lunar calendar she now kept behind the bar at the Squirrels Nuts with growing dread. Tonight, the moon would hit its fullest, and at that moment, the bear she shared her body with would emerge. She only had a vague recollection of her first moonlight shift. Thorn had been with her, and his love, Felicity. She hadn’t really want them there. She had to take off her clothes to shift, and she was short
and chunky. Getting naked with Thorn, who was hotter than hell, seemed like a great idea. Another aspect of the moon was that it made her crazy horny as it waxed. But Thorn was with Felicity. Felicity was a mountain lion shifter, and a jealous one at that. Not to mention she had a perfect body.
While she remembered little, she was told that she had run off in her bear form and remained that way for a couple days. She did remember waking up starving, freezing and humiliated. Her inner bear was not good at being an animal.
She needed to cage her inner beast, at least, until she had more experience with her bear. It had only been a couple months since she was bitten and turned. The man who had turned her wanted Sally for a mate—absolutely unacceptable—and had only done it to get to Thorn. Most of that tangled weirdness escaped her, but she understood that this unnamed son-of-a-bee wanted Thorn’s mother, and in order to get her, Thorn had to die.
Sally wasn’t about to be anyone’s pawn. Still, that unnamed a-hole stranger had power over her. Worse, he had left her to deal with changing into a bear. Freakin’ jerk.
This time, she would go it alone, come what may, and she had a plan. In the woods behind the bar she’d inherited from her distant father was a house built by her grandfather. It was an old farmhouse that Sally kept in good repair even though she preferred living in the apartment above the bar. Most important, it had a great big cellar with metal doors.
She got Sophia, one of her bartenders, to cover for her. It was a Thursday night, no big deal—save for the swelling satellite in the sky. Sally packed a cooler full of salmon filets (not her favorite, but bears really liked it, she understood), a sleeping bag, a couple paperbacks and a broom. It was kind of spidery down in that cellar.
Even though the thought of becoming an untamed monster frightened her, she liked visiting the old house. It was scattered with well-used antique furniture, the wide-plank hardwood floors unsqueaky, window panes unbroken behind curtains that, holy cow, really needed replacing.
Sally didn’t know why, but the cellar of the house spanned twice the length and width of the structure upstairs. Arched walls and a floor of native stone made the place castle-y, like you’d expect to see old suits of armor standing in the alcoves. There were lightbulbs strung on a wire, throwing odd shadows, but nothing too spooky.
In a dark corner, she found some things more interesting than the books she brought. Boxes were labeled “Dad’s Things,” and turned out to belong not to her dad, but her grandfather. Sally didn’t know much about either man. Her mom had left her father when Sally was just a baby. She got regular birthday cards and Christmas presents, and then out of the blue, while she was in college, she learned her dad left the bar and the house to her.
Sally only had time to notice that the documents at the top of one trunk seemed far older than her grandfather should be. And then a rumble ran through her. The cellar came into sharp relief through all of her senses, the smell of dust and fish bright in her mind, the whisper of wind outside, the hatchet marks on the ancient beams. She barely had time to undress before the fur sprouted on her arms.
Chapter Three
The squid arrived, and Oscar eagerly took his small bowl. He let out a low purr at the rich aroma. Suppressing this, his eyes flickered to Sally and the lawyer. They hadn’t noticed his outburst of delight. Oscar was a cat ¡por el amor de dios! Regaining his cool, he focused on Sally, which was not hard to do. Her hair was black and curly, cascading past her shoulders. Blue eyes and milk-fair skin contrasted the dark foam of her hair. Her terrible men’s flannel shirt could not hide the voluptuousness of her figure. He watched her full lips form words with fascination.
“Next morning, I was still in the cellar, so I packed up. The fish were gone and I wasn’t starving. So I’d managed to get through it okay.” Sally seemed to sit up straighter as she said this, with perhaps a hint of pride. “I walked back through the woods to the bar, and there was a sheriff’s car parked in front.”
“What did you think it meant?” Iwalani asked.
Sally shrugged. “I knew it wasn’t the bear. She doesn’t know how to unlock doors. I figured someone got into a fight when I wasn’t there.”
“But that wasn’t the case,” the attorney wasn’t asking.
“They asked where I was. I held up my sleeping bag and said I was camping. They asked if I had my cellphone on me. I left it behind, just in case the bear got wild. So I said no, it’s upstairs. They asked if they could see it. I asked if they needed a warrant for that.”
Iwalani nodded with a smile. “Good girl.”
“They said they didn’t, if I was willing to show it to them. Did I have something to hide?”
Oscar clucked his tongue sympathetically. “Of course you didn’t.”
Sally gazed at the table top. “As soon as they looked, they arrested me.”
“There’s no security feature, no password?” Iwalani said.
“No. I mostly use it to play games and talk to my mom.”
Lower lip thrust out in thought, Oscar said, “So easy for anyone to use.”
Iwalini’s black eyes met his. “And if they obtained it without a warrant—”
“Fruit of the poisoned tree,” Sally said. As Oscar watched, her face colored in a most pleasant way. “I, uh, watch a lot of ‘Law & Order.’”
“Regardless,” Iwalani turned her dark gaze on Sally, “the sheriff needs to pin this attempted homicide on somebody. As far as they’re concerned, there isn’t another suspect.”
“But that guy who bit me, the guy who wants to kill Thorn—”
Oscar held up a palm. “Obviously, this is the real culprit. I did some research into Thorn’s background. His youth was a bit tragic. More importantly, I was unable to identify either his birth parents or the man who wants him dead. If I could not find these things, the police cannot either.”
Sally’s features sagged, making Oscar’s heart follow suit. “You sound so sure of yourself.”
“Unfortunately in this case, I am the best at what I do. Curiosity is either my strongest suit, or my greatest shortcoming depending upon your perspective. There are still many avenues to pursue. I will pursue them until I have my answers.”
Lunch arrived, Oscar’s Dungeness crab melt smelling more delicious than the appetizer. The scent of Iwalani’s bouillabaisse special made him doubt his choice until he tucked in. He eyed Sally’s plate. Hot pastrami. “No salmon? Bears love salmon.”
“Maybe bears do, but it upsets my tummy.”
Oscar chuckled.
“Why is that funny?”
“I envy your journey, Sally. I was born a shifter, and I have never known a single day of illness. Very soon you will discover how the creature within you benefits and enriches your life.” Indeed, at that moment, the big cat inside Oscar filled his head with stalking stillness. The jaguar was very curious about the beautiful woman before him. It was not something he had experienced before, despite the number of women he’d been intimate with.
“No more colds or flu?” Her eyes stole to his wrist.
He felt the scar tingle, but ignored it. He could almost read her thoughts. If shifters could heal so well, what was up with that huge disfigurement? There was a story behind it, one that he did not intend to divulge right now. Oscar took a bite of his sandwich and chewed in thought.
“It’s so much more than that. Your inner self, you think of her as a wild animal, a predator. She is complex. Bears are not savage killers.” He caught hot eyes from Iwalani, but ignored her.
“A bear is naturally shy, cautious, and one of the most intelligent of all mammals. Black bears in particular are highly successful. They are not endangered, even in this part of the world, but thriving. Despite your sire being a grizzly, your heart and soul are that of a gentler species. The bear is you, Sally, as much as you are the bear. The sooner you embrace her, the sooner you will see.”
Sorrow pooled in Sally’s blue eyes, her brow creasing. “But why me?”
Oscar leaned close
r, his voice a whisper. “Perhaps you might try to hide your exquisiteness in those loose clothes, but anyone with heightened senses can easily see your beauty.”
“Oh, come on.” Sally glanced away.
The moon-blush had faded, leaving a self-conscious woman. Something about her innocence spoke to him strongly. Behind those guileless blue eyes was a woman of great passion. She might conceive herself as a naïf, but she owned a bar and had seen much of human behavior. There was no way she had gone through life with a body and face like that and not explored her sensuality. Oscar desperately wanted to remove the shell she hid inside one section at a time, exposing her desire, and consuming it like a raw shellfish.
“Own it, cariña.” He lifted her hand to his lips. Sally’s eyes shot to him. She looked as if she forgot how to breathe.
“You two need to get a room,” Iwalani interrupted. “In the meantime, we need to put together a solid case. Using shifting into a black bear as an alibi is fine if we want to mount an insanity defense. We need a plan.”
“The plan is simple. We bring in the man who is using Sally to get to Thorn. He has tried this once before and failed. Certainly, he will try again.”
The attorney’s mouth made a moue. “And catch him in the act?”
“Of course.”
Iwalani tapped her pen against the legal pad. “Are you familiar with American football?”
“Sí. I am a die-hard fan of the Jacksonville, Florida club.”
“Club. Jacksonville. Of course.” The attorney rubbed her temples. “This idea is like how Coach Darrell Royal described the forward pass.”
Oscar squinted a question at her.
“Three things can happen, and two of them are bad.”
Sally caught on quick. “We catch him; we don’t catch him and he kills Thorn and I take the blame; we don’t catch him and I take the blame for the first attempt.”
The Jaguar's Romance Page 2