Not really, no. “Nathalie has her under control.” A low growl rumbled in the background, and I wrinkled my nose. “Is that Cord?”
Rustling noises carried to me, throaty whispers and soft sighs that made me twitchy.
“Hey, Dell. You’re up late.” Cord’s gravelly voice punched me in the gut. As much as I missed Cam, I missed him more. My wolf and I always felt safest when he was within running distance. “Cam needs her rest before we reconvene tomorrow. Can we pick this up during our lunch break tomorrow?”
“No problem.” My vision went glassy. “It can wait until then.”
“Dell,” a warning entered his tone. “What’s up?”
I palmed a second cupcake, almost managing to fit it into my mouth whole. “Nuffin,” I mumbled, pulling wrapper from between my teeth.
“I heard Cam mention Aisha and thought you two were catching up. Was I wrong? Is this serious?” Concern peppered his tone. “If you need to talk to Cam—or to me—we’re right here. Anytime you need us, we’re here. Understand?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Hot tears spilled over my cheeks. “You’re right. It’s late. You should put Cam to bed.”
“That proves it,” he said with finality. “You’re not fine.”
I hesitated with my hand over a third cupcake. “What proves it?”
“You told me to put Cam to bed with a straight face. No dirty jokes, no threats to join us. Nothing.”
“You can’t see my face.” Thank God for it too. All I needed was for him to see his beta crying like a pup who missed her parents. “Besides, maybe I’m maturing in your absence. Maybe you were the bad influence on me. Maybe—”
“—you’re full of hot air?” His rusty chuckles made me grin, but they tapered to silence too quickly. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? We could put you on speakerphone.”
Speakerphone, because they were so far away the pack bond couldn’t reach them. That alone was enough to send my wolf into a shallow mourning.
“I have nine more lemon meringue cupcakes, and I will soon have a pot of coffee. There’s nothing you can do for me that sugar and caffeine can’t accomplish.”
“Cam says you’re drinking too much coffee and that’s why you’re up so late.”
I held the phone away from my face and stuck out my tongue at the receiver. “Cam is not the boss of me.”
“She kind of is,” he disagreed. “Her being alpha…”
“Okay, point taken.” I toyed with a third cupcake while faking a loud yawn. “I’m going to go now. You kids don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Seconds passed before his sigh blasted the receiver. “Night, Dell. Call us if you need us. That’s an order.”
“Since you can’t see me, I’ll just go ahead and tell you I’m mock saluting you right now.” I jabbed my finger into the icing and scooped up a mound of sugar.
“You’re a horrible liar.” He snorted. “I bet you five dollars you’ve got the phone in one hand and a cupcake in the other.”
“You, sir, owe me a fiver.” I stuck the glob of icing in my mouth. “I wasn’t holding the cupcake. Just looking at it.” With my finger.
“Sweet dreams, Dell.”
“Night, Cord.”
I ended the call with a smile on my face and five dollars poorer. The tightness in my chest had eased, and thanks to the sugar rush, I had enough energy to reach home before face-planting. I closed the pastry box and wiped the crumbs off the desk blotter. I spun once more in the chair, which I regretted after having crammed so many cupcakes down my piehole in such a short time, and let myself out of the office before locking it behind me.
The light under Enzo’s door was out, or I would have made nice before leaving. I secured the building, sparing a glance across the parking lot, and spotted Enzo behind the wheel of his car, talking on his cell. I lifted a hand to mirror the one he raised at me, then headed for my RV and the sweet dreams Cord had wished me.
Chapter 7
Funny how all the issues that can’t wait to be resolved while I’m off can keep when I’m back at work. No one intercepted me with a question, a request or an incident while I brewed and filled a thermos with coffee, strapped on my tool belt and meandered toward the project site of the day.
Still blissed out from chatting with the alphas, I pretended the perfect silence meant they had blown off the Gathering, told the conclave to kiss their furry buns, and decided to come home early, relegating me to my preferred role of second fiddle.
The park was a new acquisition, and part of our deal with Dot Cahill included maintaining the property in exchange for a break in the rent. Tallying the cost of lot rent versus the price of the improvements I managed each month had become a game between us. So far, I was winning.
I had done odd jobs back in Georgia to earn a paycheck and contribute to the pack tithes. Here I was doing the same thing but in a different way.
Not a single member of our pack had paid one red cent to live here, because I worked off the mortgage payment with sweat equity. That couldn’t last. Eventually I’d run out of bright ideas that Dot viewed as necessary improvements versus unnecessary luxuries. But for now, while so many of us were scraping together our pennies to invest in RVs or camping supplies, it was a blessing to put our money where it got the most mileage.
Pawpaw had taught me the basics of carpentry long before I enrolled in trade school or landed my first apprenticeship. A man of few words, he helped me build a foundation for my life over the summers I spent with him and Meemaw in Villanow. That persnickety old man taught me self-worth when, up to that point, I had only been shown my value as seen through the eyes of potential mates.
Under his wing, I learned there was comfort to be found in firm numbers and solid construction. Measuring tapes didn’t lie. Saws whined a warning before they bit. Hammers struck hard but their aim was true. Well, that last part could be said about my momma too.
She never understood the contentment I derived from a stack of fresh lumber or a box of tools. The birdfeeder I made her, the first project I ever completed, she smashed into splinters in a blind rage over her father teaching me what she considered a man’s trade. I could still recite her lecture word for word. I don’t think I’ll ever forget a syllable of it.
No male wants a female with man’s hands.
No male wants a female who dresses the way he does.
No male wants a female who comes home with sawdust in her hair.
When will you have time to cook? To clean? To care for your young?
Careers are for men. They are our alphas and our providers.
You were put on this earth for them to use.
We all were.
The thirteen-year-old girl I had been made herself fervent promises that day. She would provide for herself, so she didn’t have to depend on anyone for her survival. She would earn rank, so she could say no to anything she didn’t want to do. She would never let a man use her body without her consent, because Momma always cried after. And she would never break. Not her will, and not her heart.
The woman I was now felt shame at having broken all those promises to myself in the end.
Lorimar was my chance to climb out of the rut Momma had worked so hard to lower me into before she passed, kicking, screaming and cursing my name on her way out of this world.
Our numbers were so low right now, and our income stretched so thin, we had to address the lack of resources soon. Job, the pack accountant, and I would have to put our heads together over how to pinch our pennies until they screamed. As much as I hated asking the others to chip in a portion of their earnings, growing a healthy nest egg might save us from counting our chickens before they hatched one day. Not to mention it would allow for some of those luxury items—say a hot tub—that Dot would torpedo off any expense list I submitted. But that was a problem for another day.
Today’s agenda included erecting the walls of Abram’s new clinic. At the moment, he kept his medical supplies
in yet another of the spare rooms at the rental office, but as clashes with the deserters intensified, so did the demand for his own space.
“Morning,” I greeted the three Stoners who had done an admirable job of staining my porch in my absence. “I appreciate y’all volunteering to help.” Volunteering being not what I meant at all. “I’ve framed out the walls, but it’s tricky raising them solo. I could use the extra muscle to knock this out today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they answered without hesitation.
Haden might be a brat, but he was training these guys right. Well, guys and a girl.
Shoe Laces was studying the ground. Par for the course. Grub, yes, that’s what he gave as his name, was ruddy-cheeked with enthusiasm. And Lyssa was gnawing on a stick of beef jerky held in the same hand as a pair of needle-nose pliers, because pointing sharp objects in the general vicinity of your eyeball would totally end well.
“What are you guys waiting for?” I started peeling tarps off the framed-out walls I’d left to sit over the weekend. “Walls don’t raise themselves.”
Most days I worked alone or with Zed, but since he and Moore had purchased their own DIY project, I had to improvise. That meant allowing this group, who at least seemed to know the difference between a flat-head and Phillips screwdriver, to assist.
Sweat, blood and the grunts of manual labor peppered my morning. Lunch came and went, and I decided to have a chat with Haden about the Stoners’ progress. I had never run my own crew. It might be nice to have steady folks there when I needed them, and we could always branch out and do work in town to bring in cash in addition to keeping the rent off our backs.
“Dell, can I borrow you?” Zed’s voice carried.
Wiping sweat from my eyes, I pocketed my level and exhaled a bubble of tension. Rather than irritation, I experienced a sensation of my world righting itself. The calm in the air had plagued me like the mother of a toddler suddenly realizing why the house was so quiet.
“Sure.” I gestured to the guys. “Take five. I’ll be right back.”
I left the construction site and joined Zed by the cooler. He offered me an icy bottle of water dripping condensation, and I finished it in one long pull.
“The clinic is looking good,” he observed. “Has Abram seen it yet?”
“He signed off on the blueprints.” I reached for a second bottle. “Our budget for replacement equipment is bare bones. He pretty much doesn’t leave his trailer except to hunt. Otherwise, he’s on eBay cruising for deals and bidding like a fiend.”
Zed chuckled.
“You laugh, but I think he might be addicted.” I clacked my nubby fingernails on the lid. “We might have to stage an intervention.” I took a ladylike sip and cleared my throat. “So what’s up?”
“Moore and I stopped by Panda Crossing for lunch.”
“And…?” I peered around him. “You brought me leftovers?”
“There were none. The restaurant was closed.”
Dread balled in my gut. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“There was a sign taped in the window. It said ‘out of beef.’”
This was not good. I foresaw another trip to Mrs. O in my future. I flipped the cooler lid shut and sat. “Why are you bringing this to me?”
“Nathalie filled me in about the O’Malleys,” he chastised. “I would have gone along if you’d asked.”
“There was no reason to think I was walking into a dangerous situation,” I assured him before he started picking at the scabs over my heart. “I promise I would have called for backup if I felt I needed it.”
He nodded that my answer was acceptable.
“Butler is small. There aren’t a whole lot of places to eat. With the Cantina closed, pickings are getting slim.” He studied the structure behind me. “Two restaurants taking indefinite lunch breaks within a day of each other. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“It’s not,” I said with one hundred percent certainty.
“How can you tell?” His gaze zipped back to me. “You haven’t examined Panda yet.”
“The sign? ‘Out of beef’? That’s what the note taped to the door of the Cantina said too.”
“I don’t like this.” Zed scratched the stubble on his cheek. “What are the odds this is a human problem?”
“As in what are the odds it’s not our problem?” I hated to break it to him. I really did. “Zero percent.”
As I explained about the glamour cast over the Cantina’s employee parking lot, and the damaging storm patterns, he narrowed his eyes. “What does the witch have to say about all this?”
“I haven’t asked.” I held up a hand to forestall his argument. “I talked to Cam and Cord last night. They’re up to speed on the situation. Cam suggested consulting Enzo, but I was hesitant to get in his debt.”
Zed grimaced. “Good point.”
“Now that we know a fae is involved and that more than one family is affected—Panda is owned by humans—we have enough to go to Enzo and press the issue as pack business.”
“The town is under our protection,” he mused, “and we can’t be certain something nasty didn’t slip past us.”
“Exactly.” I twisted to the side, taking in our progress. All four walls were up, braced and secure. A few of the interior rooms had been framed out too. Not bad for a day’s work. “Let me send the crew home, and we’ll drive into town since you’re so keen on playing backup.”
His smirk betrayed his interest. “Do you know the owners?”
“No.” I whistled loud and long to get the crew’s attention. “I get the feeling if this is connected to the O’Malley incident, then the restaurant won’t surrender any clues. I’m more interested in searching the employee parking lot.”
That brought him up short. “Will you talk to the family?”
“I can’t decide if that’s smart or really, really stupid.” I set my water aside and scooped up three cold ones. “It was different with the O’Malleys. They asked me to help. This would be me barging in, with zero qualifications, and offering my assistance. The fact the owners are human makes it that much stickier. I don’t want local law enforcement to come sniffing around because I caused a stir in town.”
The dip in his lips confirmed what a nightmare scenario that would be. “We can’t let a rogue fae prey on the townspeople, though. Guess we’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”
“That’s the spirit.” I waved him off and went to thank my helpers and invite them back tomorrow.
As the saying goes, nothing is certain in this life except death and construction.
Chapter 8
Zed drove us into town. His truck was older than both of us, probably put together, but she ran like a top. Its gradual restoration made me envious of the beauty he revealed with each rust spot he patched and every corroded surface he rechromed. I liked to think that if I had the funds to take on a restoration project, say one of the old Victorians near our old stomping grounds, the work would have filled me with the same pride that shined in his eyes whenever he caught me admiring his Tallulah.
“Here we are.” Avoiding the lot in back, he rolled to a stop at the curb in front of Panda Crossing, parking in the fire lane. “How do you want to handle this?”
Late afternoon was well underway. The sky was thinking about getting dark, but it hadn’t decided yet. Those same flashes of dry lightning writhed on the far edge of town, and this time the promise of rain dampened the air. The weatherman had blustered on about storms moving in overnight on the short drive, fueling my urgency to get this done before Mother Nature rinsed away any clues we might find.
“Do you have the harness?” The nylon straps were ratty things that stank of several wolves, since we’d all worn it at one point for various reasons. I wasn’t thrilled for the encore.
My wolf stirred at the word, her hackles rising.
“No. I found it chewed up and spat out in the weeds last week. It stank of beer and sex and humans, and I didn’t ask any ques
tions. I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.” He reached behind the seat and presented me with a length of rope. “Will this work?”
A growl vibrated my chest, and I knuckled my hand against my breastbone. “We’ll make it work.”
“I couldn’t walk for three days after your wolf got done with me last time.” His shoulders weren’t plastered against the window behind him, but his spine was flush with the door. “Your wolf isn’t going to gnaw off my arm for my trouble, is she?”
“She’ll deal.” Anything was an improvement over the harness. It was a small miracle no one had taken revenge on it in all the years Zed had kept it. The expectation I would end up wearing it was the reason I hadn’t shifted and then ridden with him into town. Once my wolf caught wind of what was going down, she would have bolted. This way she saw what was coming through my eyes, and I got the chance to bargain for her cooperation. “Any ideas about where I can change?”
“Hop in the bed of the truck. There’s a tarp you can pull over yourself.”
I scanned the mostly empty streets. Mostly wasn’t good enough.
“Relax.” He patted my knee. “I’ll make the loop. That’ll give you fifteen minutes.” He switched his caress to the truck’s dash. “No one will hear you over her purring if you keep it down.”
From there he dissolved into a mixture of baby talk and “who’s a beautiful girl” murmurs that curled my lip.
“Please don’t start making out with your truck while I’m in the back,” I pleaded. “I have virgin ears.”
Zed’s snort almost choked him.
“Fine. Keep making out with inanimate objects, and I’ll tell Moore you’re mentally unstable and award him your half of the business.” I pointed at him. “As beta, I can do that.”
A grin split his cheeks. “You hate Moore.” His smirk widened. “You’d never reward him like that.”
Had anyone else spoken the H word in connection to Moore, I would have denied it. Heck, I might have even punished them to make a point that favoritism didn’t float my boat. Dell might have likes and dislikes, but the Lorimar beta didn’t have that pleasure. Besides the occasional theft of an off day here or there, I did Moore no harm. No more than what was done to me by resources being stretched thin. But this was Zed, and he respected the value of their partnership almost as much as he disrespected Moore as a person. So when he said I hated Moore, what I heard was we.
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