by Raven Snow
I flicked on the lights, wincing as my butt ached where I'd fallen. Maybe I was getting old. According to Cooper, I already was. I hoped I lived long enough to see him turn my age and then mercilessly rub his words in his face. That was good parenting.
A flash of shiny blue caught my eye. Kneeling down near the bed, I fished around in the material and unearthed a plastic card. It was old and worn with use. I didn't recognize it from any card Wyatt or I had in our wallets. Turning it over, I glanced at the name, and my stomach dropped to join my feet.
There, written in permanent black letters, was the name James Niddle.
I stumbled back into the kitchen and sat heavily, taking the card with me. I didn't have any time to dwell on it, though, because Wyatt was coming down the stairs. Before he rounded the corner, I slipped the card into one of kitchen drawers and leaned innocently against the cabinets.
Wyatt smiled when he saw me, and that made me feel crappy about keeping secrets from him. He probably deserved to know that he might have adopted a killer dog. But then, I knew Wyatt would act. The man was pretty decisive about mine and Cooper's safety.
That wouldn't have been a problem if I wasn't still holding onto the thin hope that Biscuit hadn't done this. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that I liked him or if I just didn't want to be wrong. When I first looked into his eyes, I hadn't seen a killer. And I've seen a lot of killer's eyes. How could I be so wrong?
Shaking my head, I narrowly decided to keep everything to myself for a while longer. I wasn't convinced, and until I was, I wasn't throwing Biscuit to the wolves—literally. I may not have honesty or lawfulness, but I was loyal to a fault. This time, though, I was hoping it wouldn't be to a fault.
"What's wrong?" Wyatt asked, not looking up from his paper. "You've been acting strange all week."
"Maybe it's my time of the month."
"Not for another two weeks," he said automatically, his lips twitching.
"Are you tracking it?" I asked, fighting a grin as well.
He tapped his noggin. "Detective's memory."
"Where can I get one of those?"
"They're out of your price range."
I sobered up when I realized he might be right. This—at least partially—I could tell him. "It might be. The health department shut down the Funky Wheel until I clean it up and bring some things up to code."
Coughing, Wyatt choked on his coffee. After a moment, he put the mug down. "You never get inspected—I've checked."
"Yeah, because I usually work a little voodoo on anyone who comes sniffing around."
He shook his head, burdened by his crooked future wife. "I'm not hearing this."
"Selective hearing isn't going to get you out of helping me."
Joining me over by the counter, he put his hands on either side of me, blocking any exit. His grin was infectious, and even though my world was all lopsided, my heart felt light for a moment.
"What's in it for me?"
Wiggling my eyebrows, I leaned in close and told him.
He pretended to consider the offer. "I don't know. Seems like I could get that anyway. What else have you got?"
I was in the process of showing him when Cooper walked into the kitchen. He made a face worthy of Vic's evil little girl and went for the cereal with a disgusted grunt.
Shaking his head, he said, "Don't you two have a room?"
"This whole house is my room," Wyatt said, ruffling his son's hair. "I own everything—"
"—and you own nothing," I finished for him, coming to stand by his side. "I love our parenting style."
A beep came from outside the house, and I pulled back the curtains to look outside. A red sedan had pulled up to our driveway and a smiling woman who looked vaguely familiar waved at me. I gave her a suspicious frown in return and let the curtain fall closed.
"That's Anna's mom," Cooper said, grabbing his bag. "She's taking us to school."
His face heated up when he talked about Anna, and Wyatt and I grinned. His son was smitten with the girl, and it wasn't hard to see why. She was a perfect little angel. Even I liked her, and I wasn't big on children. They’re too messy and loud—ironic, coming from me. Cooper is the only kid I've ever had any interest in. But then, Cooper's interesting.
He pecked me on the cheek, waving at Wyatt. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. See you tonight."
And he was out the door before I knew what hit me. Wyatt, unconcerned with my inner turmoil, went back to his coffee. After a moment, I went to the curtain to watch that woman drive away with my Cooper. I pointed from my eyes to her, the universal symbol for "I'm watching you, so watch yourself."
She just smiled and waved again, driving off. They disappeared from my sight, and I was forced to go sit at the table again. This time, though, it wasn't credit cards or murder on my mind.
"He called me mom again."
Wyatt made a noncommittal noise. "Twice now."
"It's a big deal."
"If you say so, dear."
"Don't you "dear" me. It's.... Well, I don't know what it is." I let out a mighty huff. "Why does he keep saying it?"
Wyatt studiously kept his eyes on the paper. "It's not uncommon for children to call their step parents ‘mom’ or ‘dad.’"
"We're not married, yet." I fidgeted a bit at that. Wedding talk made me skittish.
"Mmmm."
With a sigh, I laid my head down on the table. "You're no help."
Wyatt's calloused fingers gently stroked my hair. "He loves you, Harper. It's just his way of showing it."
"It's a lot of pressure," I mumbled against the cold wood.
I felt Wyatt shrug. "You've been his mother for awhile now. Nothing has to change."
We both looked towards the door then, because the telltale sounds of paws scratching and a dog whining announced Biscuit's presence. When I let him in, he met my eyes like nothing was wrong, grinning and letting his tongue flop everywhere. Was it possible for someone to eat a tourist, steal his money, and then look at me with this innocent devotion?
Anything is possible, I told myself. You just have to find out if it's probable.
After Wyatt left for work, I again told Biscuit to change into his human form. This time, however, I'd forgotten to close the blinds beforehand. A stay-at-home mom passed just as Biscuit had completed the change but right before I got him some clothes. The scandalized woman gasped, looking at me with wide eyes, and then walked on—no doubt to call all of her girlfriends.
"Is that bad?" Biscuit asked.
"It's not good." I crossed my arms for a moment, watching him, and went to retrieve the card. "Do you know what this is?"
He took it from my outstretched hand. "A credit card?"
"I found it in your bed. It belonged to the murder victim."
"Oh." He shifted in his seat. "I don't think I killed him. And I'm almost positive I didn't rob him. Not much need for material possessions." Motioning to his almost naked body, he said, "Not much place to put them."
I slapped my hand on the counter. "God, I wish you could remember. It would make this whole thing a hell of a lot easier."
His head dropped, and I felt a little guilty. "I used to be...different, I think. But now, it's mostly wolf thinking happening in my brain."
"The other werewolves in town don't stay wolf as long as you do," I said slowly. "Does that have something to do with it?”
He jumped to his feet, eyes frantic. "I don't want to stay human—I won't! It's…it's harder that way. Everything is hard."
I pinched my nose, feeling a huge headache coming on. "Fine. Stay wolf. I'm going to the store, so just guard the house or whatever."
After walking out the front door, I realized I didn't have any reason to go shopping. I didn't really want to go back there and argue with a man/wolf that forgot everything two seconds later, though, so I got in the bug and drove into the downtown area.
Hardy's Hardware store was relatively empty, so I pulled in there next to Jeb's car. My big bouncer was behind th
e counter, tinkering with some kind of alarm system. He smiled when he saw me, but the lines of his face were tense and there were circles under his eyes.
"Isn't the point of having the night off to catch up on sleep?" I asked, knowing full well I didn't look much better.
He shrugged. "I don't really enjoy time off."
Jeb wasn't just a workaholic; he had two jobs because he absolutely needed both. Half the money went to his ailing mother, and the other half always seemed to be gone as soon as he earned it. I could never get him to tell me what he spent it on. He wasn't into drugs or gambling, and his house looked like it belonged to a monk.
Maybe some mysteries weren't meant to be solved.
"You're on tonight," I said, "so you can relax. I need you to clean up the place—and I'm paying time and a half." That would make up for the day missed.
He shook his head. Jeb wasn't one for what he deemed charity. "You're not paying me extra. It's not just the money that has me sleepless."
Frowning, I leaned over the counter. "Is something wrong?"
He hesitated. "That agent came to talk to me while you were gone." Shaking his head, he continued, "He—he seemed to know a lot about me."
I cursed. Jeb's past was his own as far as I was concerned. I didn't care what he'd done, and I spit at anyone who so much as looked at me sideways for employing a guy no one knew anything about. Unfortunately, when you had the FBI on your ass, having mysterious employees wasn't a good thing. I wasn't worried about what Kline would uncover so much as I was worried he'd scare Jeb out of town. The man was like family to me.
I opened my mouth to tell Jeb to leave that jerk to me when a government SUV pulled down the street. Waving to Jeb, I started stomping down to it when I saw a familiar figure go up to the window. Instantly, I dove behind a dumpster. Though I'd been caught spying on Felly once before, I just couldn't help doing it again. I was born a snoop, and I'd die a snoop—but hopefully not today.
Felly leaned right up against the car, and the window slid open. I couldn't read their lips from here, but the two of them looked pretty chummy. Abruptly, I wondered who Kline had known to check the Funky Wheel for violations. I quickly pushed that paranoid thought aside. Felly and I weren't going to be best friends or anything, but she seemed too straightforward for that.
After a little while, she sashayed away, a little more swing in her hips. I recognized that walk all too well from my own repertoire. Hastening to check the car, I ran up to the open window just as Kline went to shut it.
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Come to your senses?"
"What was that?" I asked, not in the mood for games. He'd messed with Jeb and was now officially on my naughty list. "The FBI pay you to fraternize?"
A little color invaded his cheeks. "Fraternize? Felicity and I were just making dinner plans for when I'm off duty. Not that it's any of your business. Or the bureau’s, for that matter."
What would your bosses say if they knew you were dating a werewolf? As much as I wanted to ruin his day with that news, I couldn't tell him. He'd come here to investigate the supernatural happenings, and Lord knew, I didn't want to give him any reason to stay.
"While we're on the subject of ‘none of your business,’ stay away from my bouncer."
"I'd be happy to," he said. "For a price, I’m assuming." He inclined his head. "Listen, I don't want to stay in this backwater town any more than you want me here. I could keep your name out of the official report."
I stepped back from the car. "There won't be an official report, Kline. In fact, if you keep meddling in the wrong places, there won't be any reports at all."
The temperature between us seemed to drop ten degrees. "Are you threatening a federal agent?"
"No, I'm warning an idiot. Stay away from Jeb. He's a good man."
As I was making my retreat, my cell phone rang, and I answered it with more than a little annoyance. If this kept up, I’d have to change my number. Didn’t anyone talk face to face anymore?
“This better be good, Vic,” I said. “I’m in the middle of walking away like a bad ass.”
“It’s good,” she squealed, practically panting. “Kosher’s moving to make an arrest, and I’m in on it! I thought you’d want a heads-up, so you can be there.”
“Who’s he arresting?” I gritted out, hating the thought that Kosher might have closed the case before me. What did that awful man have?
“That guy that just rolled into town. The one with the flowers on his bandana?”
“Daniel?” I said in disbelief. “What in the world could you have on Daniel?”
She seemed taken aback by my lack of support. “Well…he’s a werewolf, isn’t he? You said that yourself. He knew about the murders, and he has a bike—that’s why all the motor oil on the victim.”
“They all have bikes, Vic.”
She paused. “Kosher seems pretty sure.”
“Oh, then we better string him up. I’ll tie the noose; you get the pitch forks.”
“No need to be snippy,” she said. “At least I’ll get an arrest!”
I sighed heavily, getting into the bug and fighting with the engine to get it to turn over. There was no talking sense into Vic. She was too excited. As ever, Officer Kosher was beyond sense, so I didn’t have an in there either.
With a heavy and embarrassed heart—mostly for choosing to live in a town full of idiots—I asked Vic where and when the arrest was taking place. She told me they were taking him at the motel just outside of town in less than an hour.
I hung up with Vic after promising I’d be there for her big moment. Cutting in front of a minivan, I sped out of town and towards the meeting place. The air in the car was hot and only served to irritate me further.
Only one bike was at the motel, and I recognized it as Daniel’s from the bandana draped across the seat. I supposed it was good that the rest of the pack wasn’t here. Their alpha could be reasoned with, and I didn’t want this turning into an all-out war between the police and the werewolves. Even if I did think Kosher would look better with a big, meaty chunk taken out of his ass.
I was just about to head towards the area where the pack was rooming—according to the attendant who’d stared at my butt the whole time—when a police car came roaring into the parking lot. Vic and Kosher popped out of it, both outfitted in Kevlar vests. Theirs looked a little small for them and bulged in unflattering places.
Vic pranced over to me, brandishing her canon of a gun with pride, while Kosher stalked over like a very pissed off peacock. He pointed an accusatory finger between the two of us, making these indignant squawking noises that only solidified the picture of him as a big bird.
“This is my arrest, you…you….” He seemed to be struggling with a word horrible enough to call me. It was admirable to see him try though.
Putting on my biggest smile, I said, “Just here for the show. What a big moment for you, officer. They’ll no doubt make you a detective for this.”
His eyes narrowed like he was waiting for the punch line. I didn’t leave him hanging for long.
“If you arrest the right person, that is.”
“Harper doesn’t think Daniel did it,” Vic said helpfully, her eyes on the motel. Every so often someone would come out of the building, and she would twitch, like an anxious hound dog hot on the trail.
Hound dog and peacock. These two were just too much.
Leaving them in the dust, I trotted off towards Daniel’s room. Not a moment had passed before Vic and Kosher sprinted after me. The latter was yelling in my ear that this was his case, so get in the car and drive off. The former was just humming happily, playing with her gun in a way that made everyone in a five-mile radius nervous.
I knocked politely on the door before Kosher could stop me. Daniel answered almost immediately, a polite smile on his face though we’d clearly interrupted something. Behind him, next to the dinky TV, were a couple of potted plants. His hands were covered in soil.
“Miss Harper,”
he said, his eyes sharp on my surroundings. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I didn’t bring Biscuit,” I said. I stepped inside, leaving Vic and Kosher still on the doorstep.
“But you did bring guests.”
“Not really. They’re here to arrest you.”
The sound Kosher made sounded like air escaping from a balloon. He flapped his hands at me, his eyes wide on the werewolf he’d just pissed off.
Of course, Daniel didn’t look particularly pissed off. With incredible tact, he led the two officers into his small suite and seated them on the bed for lack of other options. He even offered us all something to drink, though I didn’t know how he would’ve pulled that one off. There wasn’t a mini fridge in sight.
“You believe I murdered that man?” he asked.
“Of course not,” I said. “There’s no evidence. But this is Waresville. We don’t need evidence, just a desire to arrest someone.”
Vic, at least, looked a little ashamed at that. She cut a glance at Kosher, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t looking at her, though they were sitting pretty close together. It was another uncomfortable observation, one I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“For the love of….” Kosher sprang to his feet, pulling out his handcuffs. “You’re under arrest, Daniel Crisp. Everything you say can….”
I tuned out the rest of his words, because I knew them by heart. Man, if I had a nickel for every time someone had read me my rights, I wouldn’t have needed to open the Funky Wheel back up. And I could’ve bought off Kline, so that I’d never have to see his face in my town again.
Daniel shot me a bemused expression as Kosher slapped the cuffs on him. I just shrugged as if saying, “what are you gonna do?” The fact that both officers in the room were experiencing some intense moments of pride and exhilaration was a secret from neither of us.
“There,” Kosher said, examining his handy work. “Unless you can break out of steel, you’re stuck.” He said this like it was a preposterous notion. Anyone growing up in Waresville should know better than to tempt fate like that.
“I can,” Daniel said without heat, “as a matter of fact.”