My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6)

by Shelley Munro

  “What’s the plan?” Saber asked.

  “We think he will come to the house via the bush. Henry and Geoffrey are a concern to him since he threw them meat this morning.”

  Isabella shot Henry a frown. “You didn’t eat it?”

  “It wasn’t drugged. It came in a supermarket packet, and I watched him unwrap it. He’s preparing the groundwork. Next time it won’t be safe to eat. Don’t worry. My sense of smell is good. I’ll know and Geoffrey will listen to me,” Henry said.

  “So we’re letting him become comfortable approaching the house?” Leo asked.

  “Then, we’ll lay a trap and nab him,” Gerard said.

  “We could always put out a hit on him,” Isabella commented, her voice calm as if she’d just asked someone to pass the jug of milk for her tea.

  London jumped when Gerard tapped a finger under her chin. She pressed her lips together and leaned into him, scrutinizing the reactions. Saber, she couldn’t read. Her gaze moved on to Leo. His handsome face appeared as stoic as his older brother’s. Felix, the brother in-between, mirrored their enigmatic behavior. Henry’s expression held pain—the same anguish he’d worn since his friends had broken him from jail. Isabella cocked her head, watchful and weighing emotions and responses to her outrageous suggestion.

  “What if we’re wrong?” London burst out, repeating her concerns. “What if it’s not Royce?”

  “These are the facts, English. Royce wasn’t happy because Jenny started divorce proceedings. We know she changed her will, excluding him from everything except the items in the pre-nup agreement the solicitor told you they’d both signed. Royce told his work he was sick but we have proof he flew to Christchurch. Jenny is murdered.” Gerard squeezed her. “The facts are adding up, London.”

  “He’s a loose end,” Isabella said in her blunt way. “He needs snipping.”

  London froze at the statement, then started at the thump-thump of Isabella’s fist striking the countertop in punctuation of her statement. Wow, Isabella had a tough core of steel hidden beneath her striking blonde locks.

  “London is right.” Saber straightened from his lean. “We need certainty before we act.”

  “And if he grabs London and stabs her before we get our proof,” Gerard demanded, and London heard his feline in each of his harsh words.

  “Gerard is right,” Henry added his opinion. “Jenny is dead. It happened without warning. The murderer is quick and not afraid to take chances. We need to protect London.”

  “Or he’s just lucky.” Saber prowled across the kitchen and stopped near Geoffrey. He stooped to pet the terrier, and Geoffrey growled in warning, his furry body tensing. Saber eyed the dog, gave a decidedly feline snarl in return and stood to face them, turning his back on a ruffled Geoffrey. “We should stake out the bush tonight and wait for him—position ourselves up in the trees—watch and only take action if he gets into the house. Get an idea of where he’s staying and get a good view of him.”

  London could see Gerard’s struggle to hide his amusement at Saber and Geoffrey’s interaction.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled as he said, “It’s possible he’s using disguises. A woman tried to get London into her car this morning.”

  “Make of car?” Isabella queried. “Number plate.”

  Gerard winked at London. “It was dark blue. A car rather than a SUV.”

  “Sorry. I’m not a car person. I don’t own one,” London said, feeling she should apologize.

  “Okay,” Saber said. “Gerard and London in the house. Go out for dinner and come back around nine. Give the guy a chance to get inside first. If he does, we can nab him, and keep London far away from any danger. Leo and Isabella, you station yourselves in the bush and wait for him. Find a suitable tree. The intruder will never think to look up. Felix and I will relieve you.” He glanced at them. “Have I missed anything?”

  “No. Sounds good,” Gerard said.

  “What do we do if he comes?” Felix asked, leaning forward against the back of his chair.

  “If he doesn’t break into the house, we’ll just watch him,” Saber said. “Let him get confident of his plan, whatever it might be.”

  “If he breaks in, we’ll grab him and call the cops,” Henry said.

  “I think that’s best. We don’t want to reveal ourselves as felines, especially since you and Henry did that with the stalker after Lisa,” Saber said.

  Isabella sniffed. “That’s why I suggested a hit. Less complicated.”

  Saber paused before speaking. “You’re right, but I don’t want too many unexplained deaths around Middlemarch either. A live catch is best. Questions? Concerns?”

  “You could follow him to where he is staying and report him to the police,” London suggested. “The policeman I spoke to has looked into the things I told him.”

  “While that is a good idea, he might escape or wriggle out of charges,” Henry said. “I want to nail this bastard. He killed Jenny and he should pay.”

  The pain in his voice brought tears to London’s eyes. She pulled from Gerard’s embrace and crossed the room to Henry, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him. For a second, there was silence and Henry remained tense. But she persisted, and he relaxed, allowing her to offer him comfort.

  “I think we’ve covered the angles,” Felix said. “You said he’s come to the house twice. We should scout the bush now, see if we can see where he’s been hiding to watch the house.”

  “Good plan,” Leo agreed. “Let’s go.”

  The Mitchell men and Isabella tromped outside. London released Henry.

  “You going with them?” Gerard asked.

  “Thought I might.” Henry disappeared and seconds later, she heard the click of wolf nails on the floor. Geoffrey scuttled from his bed to follow, leaving London alone with Gerard.

  “Normally, I’d tell you off for touching another man,” Gerard said. “But if anyone needs a hug, it’s Henry. He takes exception when I try to hug him.”

  “He’s frightened you’ll bite.” London struggled to hide her amusement. “I worry you’ll bite me one day.”

  His eyes gleamed and went feline. His teeth were sharp when he flashed her a grin. “Count on it, English. You, I’m looking forward to biting.”

  Later that afternoon

  The phone rang, and Gerard picked it up with a glance at the screen. “Anderson and Drummond Security.” He listened to the guy on the other end, excitement filling him at another word-of-mouth job. He and Henry had been right to move to Middlemarch. Their business was taking off.

  “I could come out this afternoon to give you a quote.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Say four o’clock. Five? Perfect. Thanks for calling. I’ll see you then.”

  “A new client?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah. The guy who owns the petrol station referred us.” Gerard turned to London. “Want to come for a drive? We can do the tourist thing on the way and visit Sutton Salt Lake.”

  “I’d love to. It beats staying around here and thinking too much.”

  “What sort of job?” Henry asked.

  “They have several cabins they hire out to tourists, and they want security lights installed. One of their guests tripped, walking from the bar to their cabin in the dark.”

  “Should be simple enough.”

  “I’ll do the quote and if they give us the go ahead, I could install them tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you,” Henry said, his tone apologetic.

  “Not your fault,” Gerard said.

  Geoffrey barked, and both men glanced toward the door.

  “Visitors,” Henry said.

  “You’d better shift.”

  “Should I get the door?” London asked.

  “No, let me.” Gerard cocked his head as their visitor knocked on the door. “Stay here, English. Henry, make yourself scarce.”

  Gerard strode to the door, Geoffrey at his heels. He opened the door. Hannah and his cop buddies. Great. “Yes, can
I help you?”

  “We have a warrant to search the property,” Hannah said.

  Gerard scanned it and cursed under his breath. He hoped Henry was listening. The cops didn’t need to see him in wolf form. Not standing at his full natural height, that was for sure. “What are you looking for?”

  “Who,” Hannah corrected, hitching up his trousers.

  Gerard stepped away from the door and gestured the four cops inside. Four, for God’s sake. Talk about overkill. Once the cops entered his house, he closed the door and went to join London in the kitchen. He found London doing the dishes while Henry scrunched up in Geoffrey’s basket. Geoffrey lay on the floor behind him, eyes open but demeanor calm. Henry must have communicated with the terrier, letting him know the importance of remaining in place.

  The cops went through the rooms, searching for Henry. Gerard heard them opening wardrobes and cupboards, sliding open drawers. Five minutes later, they returned to check the kitchen.

  “I know you’re hiding the escaped prisoner. Tell us where he is,” Hannah said, his gaze darting to all four corners of the kitchen.

  “This is ridiculous,” London snapped. “Why are you wasting your time with stupid searches?”

  “We are being thorough,” Hannah retorted.

  London sniffed, her English accent to the fore. “Whatever. Are you finished?”

  “For the time being.”

  “I’ll see you out then,” London said.

  Gerard hid his smirk at Hannah’s humph of annoyance. His gaze had skimmed right over Henry and Geoffrey and neither called attention to themselves.

  London cleared her throat, and Hannah and his men tromped to the door. As the two vehicles they’d arrived in departed, Henry stood and stretched. An instant later, he stood naked in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Do you mind?” Gerard clapped his hand over London’s eyes, making her giggle.

  “Those cops are idiots,” Henry muttered. “I didn’t kill Jenny. You believe me, don’t you?”

  “We believe you.” London spoke for both of them, and Gerard was grateful for her certainty and belief in his friend.

  “We might head out to visit the Salt Lake first,” Gerard said.

  “Wait, I need to get my camera.”

  “Grab a pair of comfortable shoes too. We have to park and walk a short distance to get to the lake.”

  London bounded to the door. “Walking. Good. That’s much more my speed.”

  Sutton Salt Lake was in the middle of nowhere. Perfect for stolen privacy.

  Gerard reached for London’s hand and helped her over the style to the other side of the fence. Fresh air tugged at strands of London’s hair and the rebel curls framed her face.

  “Alone at last. We should find a quiet corner where we won’t be disturbed.”

  “That should go against every one of my English morals, but I find the idea appealing. I’ve never had outside sex.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He tugged her up a rise to view the lake.

  “Is that it?”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “I expected…” She gestured at the drying mud, the web of cracks making the waterless lake look like a crazy patchwork quilt. “Water. I mean the lakes in England are full of water. And that smell.” She used her fingers to hold her nose.

  “It hasn’t rained for a while. The lake is filled by rainfall and is the only saltwater lake in New Zealand. The salt comes from the soil and the way the lake is constantly filling and evaporating. Are you taking photos?”

  “When I can breathe without wanting to gag.”

  “It’s the mud. You’ll get used to it soon. Let me have your camera and I’ll take a photo of you.” Gerard snapped several photos. “We can come back after we have rain.”

  “I’ve gone off finding a quiet spot,” London said. “I’ve decided a comfortable bed would be better, one without this stench.” She rounded a huge block of schist and came to an abrupt halt. “Gerard, that’s the car I saw this morning, the one the lady was driving.”

  “Crap. I can’t see the driver from here or the number plate. It’s covered in mud.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “The Mitchell farm isn’t far from here.” Gerard pulled his phone from his pocket and made the call. He explained the situation, then hung up. “Saber and Felix have developed a sudden fascination with the Salt Lake. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll stay right where we are and watch to see what happens.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  Gerard drew her close and attempted to absorb her tremors. She’d been through so much, and didn’t deserve this additional stress. He focused on the driver but could only make out a basic shape of the figure through the vehicle window. The car door opened, and the driver exited.

  Every muscle in London’s body tensed. “It’s the same woman. I told you she was creepy. What is she doing?”

  “I don’t know.” The figure could be a guy. They were tall enough, had broad shoulders. “Is the woman the right height to be Royce?”

  “I think so. She’s too fat though. Royce is solid, but he’s not fat. He takes care of himself.”

  A growl burst from him, jealousy taking Gerard unawares. “I don’t like knowing you’ve seen him naked.”

  “I wish I’d never met the man.” The flat tone told him she meant every word, which appeased his feline.

  “She’s leaving.”

  “Saber should have arrived by now. I wonder what’s keeping him.”

  The vehicle reversed from the parking area and left.

  “The rear number plate is obscured too. I can’t remember if it was that way this morning. She rattled me.”

  “It’s okay.” Gerard hit redial on his phone. “Where are you?”

  “We would have been there, but a truck has lost its load of hay. Had to call an ambulance and the cops. Looks as if the guy had a heart attack,” Saber said.

  “The woman is leaving. Look for a blue Nissan. It’s a rental. Number plates, both front and rear, are obscured with mud.”

  “Only two ways she can go from there. If the accident doesn’t stop her, we’ll have a better idea of where she’s staying,” Saber said.

  “If she is staying in Middlemarch.” Felix spoke in the background.

  “True. London and I are going to do a quote at Gilcrest Station. We’ll be home in an hour.”

  “All right,” Saber said. “We’ll let you know if we sight the vehicle. The cops have arrived, so we’ll head home once the road is cleared. That should give our mystery driver time to get here, if they’re intending to come this way.”

  Gerard ended the call and placed his phone in his pocket. “Come on. Let’s see what our mystery lady was doing.”

  London clasped his hand with a white-knuckle grip as they made their way to the car park. Not the relaxing jaunt he’d expected. He vaulted over the fence and helped London over the style.

  “There’s a note under the window wiper.”

  Gerard squeezed her hand in silent reassurance and freed the note. “It’s addressed to you.”

  “You read it.”

  He unfolded the single sheet of paper. “You think you’re safe. You’re not.” Bastard. He or she was trying to scare London and doing a good job of it.

  “That’s Royce’s handwriting. I recognize the way he curls his F. The last one was written in block letters. I bet he did this one as an afterthought or in a hurry. We need to let the cops know.”

  Her tension stirred his feline, and he bit back a growl. “We will tell the cops. Ignore the note for now, and don’t let Royce rattle you. You’re safe with me and Henry.”

  “Jenny died.”

  Not much he could say to that.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Royce, he-he isn’t a nice man.” She bit her lip and concentrated on her clasped fingers. It’d been Royce’s handwriting. Her gut told he
r it was Royce, and cold fingers of dread trailed down her spine at the idea of facing him again.

  “Don’t worry, English. We’re on alert.”

  “But he doesn’t play fair. Royce doesn’t follow normal rules. He plays to win.”

  Gerard took one hand off the steering wheel and grabbed her hand. As always, his touch allowed her to breathe, her thoughts to settle into ruffled rather than paralyzing. The more she thought about this…their plan, the more she worried regarding the outcome. What happened if someone else ended up dead because of Royce? Her thoughts veered. It had to be Royce. There was no other rational explanation for him being in New Zealand.

  In the past, he’d given kudos to the country’s rugby team but had nothing else good to say of the small country or the people who lived at the bottom of the world.

  Her gaze kept drifting to the rear window, her stomach bucking each time another vehicle approached or pulled from a driveway.

  “London, we’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “I can,” Gerard snapped. “You are my mate, and I will die before I let someone hurt you.”

  “I imagine Henry felt the same way with Jenny.”

  Gerard slammed on the brakes, flinging her forward. Her seat belt dug into her chest.

  “You’ve stopped in the middle of the road.”

  “You’ve seen Henry. He’d rip off his nuts if he thought he could have Jenny back, and I feel the same way with you. It would kill me if something happened to you.”

  London closed her eyes, her pulse racing at the suddenness of their stop and the passion in Gerard. She needed to apologize. None of this was his fault. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “We’ll get through this.”

  “I hope so.”

  “We will,” he insisted. “Better get going.” He set the vehicle in motion, an edgy silence between them.

  Doubts jumped out to assault her. Was she right to stay in Middlemarch? Maybe she should leave or at least move to a secure hotel. If Royce had killed Jenny, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her. He had a cruel streak—one she’d witnessed firsthand. She’d tried to tell Jenny, but Jenny hadn’t wanted to listen.