He held his breath. Keys rattled in a bowl. The door closed, followed by footsteps and the drawn out sound of a wheeled suitcase pulled along the hardwood floor. After a few heartbeats, the treads of the staircase creaked.
“Let’s go!”
Trina shoved him down. “We didn’t get the camera from the bedroom!”
“She’s gonna figure out something’s up when she sees the bathroom.”
“No, there’s evidence on it!”
From upstairs, they heard a woman’s voice. “Oh my God, someone stole my toilet.”
“We gotta run,” Casper urged.
“Without my evidence? No. Fucking. Way.”
“If she sees us, she’ll call the cops.”
She angled her head, giving him the stink eye. “And if she doesn’t see us?”
Trina had a point. Luckily, the weather provided a diversion. In the attic, the shutters banged in the wind again.
“Got you, you son of a bitch,” they heard distantly.
“She’s going to the attic. Get this stuff to the truck. I’ll get the camera.” Casper fished out his keys. “Go, go!”
Lips pressed together, venom in her eyes, Trina bundled the tripods and case and hurried to the front door. Casper headed upstairs. His sensitive ears picked up the specific sound of the attic stairs. He bounded down the hall, moving silently. In a second, he scooped up the last camera.
Sprinting, he headed for the stairs again. He almost stopped short. Outside the bathroom, he saw discarded clothing and a coat. A scent lingered in the air. Canine, but one he didn’t recognize. Again, feet sounded above his head. The widow returning. With no time to think, he slid down the bannister and shot out the front door.
Trina backed his truck into the driveway to turn around. He half-expected her to leave without him. Cradling the camera and tripod, he raced to the truck, jumped on the back bumper, vaulted into the bed.
“Let’s go!”
“I am never speaking to you again!” she called out the driver side window. “Never, never, never, never!”
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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dumbfounded, Trina stared at the playback for the hundredth time or so. From the first time she saw it, the tangled wad of fury and desperation folded into nothing. She was left dazed, able only to push the rewind and play buttons on the editing software.
It couldn’t be. It could. Not. Be.
Vaguely aware that an iron sun had risen behind the clouds, she rewound and watched again. Impossible. The widow, what she did, how she changed, those awful sounds…
“How did it go last night?”
She rewound the video. Played it back. The clip was thirty-two seconds long. Trina couldn’t take her eyes off the monitor.
“Hello?”
She ignored Ben’s reflection in the monitor, staring, hypnotized, captivated, maybe a little sick.
“What are you watching?”
Trina rewound it again. She couldn’t stop herself. After it played, she heard Ben’s sharp intake of breath.
“Trina, you really need to talk to Casper.”
“Never, never, never, never.” She rewound the clip and pushed the play triangle.
She watched again. Rewound. Again. A mug of coffee appeared before her. She drank it absently, unable to tear her eyes away.
“Funny, I always think of a little old lady when I hear the word ‘widow,’” Ben said.
Finally, she turned to him. “Huh?”
“You really need to talk to Casper.”
“I’m not talking to him. Do you know what he did?” Through her teeth, she told him the story of last night.
“Wow. He remodeled a house without permission so you could hunt ghosts? That’s ballsy.”
“Illegal is what that is. I can’t use any of this. This!” She tapped the monitor. “This is a goldmine. Or evidence that I’ve gone insane. Do you see what I see?”
“You need to talk to Casper.”
“Did you not hear me?” Her voice rose in volume and pitch.
Ben didn’t back down. “You need to talk to Casper. I could carry you into the house.” His mouth twisted in thought. “Seems undignified.”
“I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere!” She was shrieking now.
For the first time since she’d known him, Ben’s face turned to dark stone. He folded his arms and leaned closer. His eyes went feral. It seemed something terrifying lurked just below the nerdy surface. Trina thought of the impossible image on the video.
She folded her own arms in response. “I am not going anywhere without eyebrows.”
Ten minutes later, Ben a pace behind, she walked into the house without knocking. She found Casper in the office. He dressed only in a bathrobe, talking on his cell phone.
“Just make sure everyone’s at the apartment build. I’ll take care of it. I know she’s got no toilet. I said I’ll take care of it.”
At that moment, Scarlet waltzed in the front door. She paused a moment, taking in the three of them. Striding on, she walked into the crowded office. “I realize this is your home, Cass, but your choice of office attire might be creating an awkward work environment.”
Trina tried to murder Scarlet with her eyes. “I need to talk to your asshole boss.”
Scarlet smiled. “Excellent. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Casper glowered at her. “Scarlet, take a day off.”
“Oh, but we have so much work to do!”
“Scar,” Casper barked. “Day off. Hit the bricks.” He made a hard gestured with his thumb.
For a second, it looked like she would argue. Instead, her face went blank. It took Scarlet a moment to speak. “See you tomorrow then, sugar.”
He turned fierce eyes over her shoulder. “Ben.”
Ben walked out the French doors. “Already gone.”
She fisted her hips. “I prefer he stay.”
“Trina, siddown and shuddup.”
Casper’s words felt like a slap. “Why is everybody yelling and me and ordering me around?”
“Because we’re fucked. I fucked up, and now all of us are fucked. So siddown and shuddup.”
***
She sat across the desk from him. Casper didn’t like the mingling of anger, fear and hurt crossing her features. But he couldn’t treat her like pack. Even if he suddenly felt like he had control over them, they were wolves. Trina was not. He ran a hand over his face, and through his cowlicks. Sleep hadn’t found him last night. Rummaging through the pocket of his robe, he found a square of plastic and tossed it on the desktop between them.
Recognition replaced the stir of emotions on her visage as Trina reached out for the data card.
“Scarlet wants to be part of the pack,” Casper said. “Figured she might get in good if she could force you outta town, right?”
She held it up, reading her own writing in Sharpie on the surface. “From the woods?”
Casper nodded. “Blackmailing you, I’m guessing. Although, it’s only good for foot fetishists. You got cute feet, by the way. There’s about ten seconds of that.”
Trina’s face crinkled. She put down the data card. “We caught something last night.”
“I figured.”
“You figured?” Her expression went blank before turning doubtful. “I don’t think you figured on this. The woman, Belinda Carstairs, I saw her change into an animal. She’s a werewolf.”
“No,” Casper said. “She’s not.”
She pointed at him. “You haven’t seen the tape.”
“She is a shifter, and that’s where I fucked up. I had no idea.”
“Shifter?”
“I don’t know what kind. But I know she’s no werewolf.”
“How do you know?”
Casper took a deep breath. He had been right on the verge of fixing this whole thing. Now, he was out of options.
“I know she’s not a werewolf,” Casper said slowly, “Because I am.”
Her face flushed. “Look, Casper, I’ve been pushed around all morning. My fingerprints are all over a crime scene. I have footage I can’t use because I broke into a house. I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“I’m not joking.”
“So you’re a werewolf. Like in the horror movies.”
“No, nothing like the movies. I’m a wolf-shifter, like in real life. So are my brothers, my in-laws, their pups, most of the people who live here. Why do you think people were such assholes when you got to Ripple? We need to keep it on the QT. You get that, right?”
He could see it in her eyes, knowing both that what he said was impossible, and knowing that it was true. “Okay.”
On its own accord, his hand reached out, finger moving the data card around on the desk. “I’ve told you about Scarlet, how we got together when I was young. I didn’t tell you the whole story. You ever hear about the Beasts of Park County?”
She blinked a few times at the change in subject. “Um, yeah, I think so. It was a big paranormal deal. That was before my time. Some hunters in a remote cabin were surrounded by monsters. Supposedly, the creatures took their guns and held them hostage for a week. There were pictures, some video. All the old-school paranormal shows aired it, ‘Sightings’ and ‘Unsolved Mysteries.’ I think Josh Gates and the three guys from ‘Ghost Adventures’ checked it out later.”
Casper felt the heat of anger rise, even all these years later. “They weren’t hunters. They were poachers. Rich city guys, trafficking in bear gall for the Chinese black market. We weren’t mature yet, but the fact that these assholes were killing animals and leaving them to rot all over our territory pissed us off. That was the summer Scarlet was visiting. She had some trouble back home, although I don’t know what. She brought some with her.
“We shoplifted a bunch of liquor—Scarlet’s idea, but we went along. Our camp was set up near the poachers’ cabin. One night, we got drunk. It started off that we just wanted to scare those fuckers. Alcohol made it get out of hand. We broke in, and took their guns, took a joyride in their truck, and spent a few nights terrorizing them. Figured they’d never come back after that. But they did, and they brought the law with them, Fish & Game, and reporters picked up the story—and especially the pictures.
“Our parents were scandalized. Just like now, the ultimate rule for survival is to keep our presence a secret. The pack had connections. In order to maintain our existence, real wolves were trucked into our territory from Canada. Damn Makenzie wolves. We were cut off, ostracized. Laramie had a wife and a pup on the way. We weren’t a pack yet—we were just kids. The spotlight made us run, run all the way to the woods here. I left everything I ever knew behind, and I’ve never gone back.
“So, this is why people here don’t want to talk to anyone looking into the paranormal. Especially the Marino Pack. My nephews and nieces don’t know their grandparents. Far as I know, they never will. We’re a rogue pack, on our own, strong now, but disconnected.”
Trina put her elbows on the desk, her face in her hands. “Why did you let me stay with you?”
Why, indeed? Casper sighed. “Because by the time I knew who you were and what you did, it was too late for me.”
“Too late for what?” she looked up.
Casper sat back and examined the ceiling. “They say that people know who they want to be with, want to hang out with, have sex with, within a few minutes of meeting. Everything in my world changed the second I laid eyes on you. Wolf-shifters mate for life. We recognize that mate right away.”
“Kinda like love at first sight?”
He thought about it. “That’s a poetic way to put it. I don’t know the real reason. Biological imperative, magic, fate, call it what you want. I’ve been at war with myself. Instinctively, I know you’re the one for me, and at the same time, I fear you’re the one who will destroy my family. Ironically, I’ve had to watch over you, to make sure you discovered nothing about us. All that time, I’ve felt closer to you with every second. The more I try to keep you away, the more I want you to stay. Catch-22.”
“Oh, so you’re in love with me because you’re a werewolf—”
“Wolf-shifter.”
“—And you have no choice.”
“Maybe love at first sight is a better way to look at it.”
“Whatev, Casper. You say you’re a werewolf shifter—prove it.”
He did it without thinking. His hands loosened the tie on the robe. At the same time, he let the beast take him. Fur bristled from his skin. The front of his face pulled, elongated, altering his perception. Bones slid, joints cracking, muscles stretched and bunched into new configurations. Shuddering, his skull moved forward, spine twisting to the horizontal forcing the robe off him. His hands fell on the desk top, fingers contracting, nails extending simultaneously.
Trina blinked at him rapidly. Then her eyes rolled back in her head.
Casper managed to lunge across the desk, shifting back to human form, and catch her before her head connected with the corner. Awkwardly, he sidled around until he could lift her in his arms. He carried her to the living room and laid her on the couch.
He blew out his cheeks. “Awesome.”
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Chapter Thirty-Eight
Trina swam through syrupy dark, rising slowly on Casper’s couch. She rubbed her eyes. “What happened?”
“I think you fainted.”
She pressed her lips together in agitation. “I’m not a fainter.”
“Then you’ve suddenly developed rampant narcolepsy. Either that, or my story was excruciatingly boring.” Casper handed her a mug.
A corner of her mouth rose at the humor. She raised a brow. “Might need something stronger than coffee.”
“I figured. It’s Irish coffee.”
Of course he figured. Casper sat next to her, stocking feet on the coffee table. He was dressed. She sipped the sweet brew, alcohol in her sinuses, whiskey burning down her throat. How long had she been out? At the thought of a black furred snout dragging Casper’s eyes into lupine triangles, she took another sip.
“So you’re some kind of monster. I had sex with a werewolf.” She drank more.
“It might be easy to compare dinner with the Marinos to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but we’re not monsters. Not really.”
Trina had no idea how the man could drag a smile from her, even while she was in the darkest place. It made her want to reach for him. She stayed her hand. “You broke into a woman’s house, tore out her bathroom, and remodeled it, all without permission. For me.”
“You endanger the pack. I had to come up with a way for you to finish your show without uncovering us.”
“That’s the stupidest plan ever, Casper. It was a million-to-one that place was haunted.”
“Given that I’ve spent my life building and remodeling, and never once saw a ghost, yeah, I guess I knew that on some level.” He sipped his own coffee, gasped.
“So why? You’re not an idiot.”
“But my brothers are. They do what I say. It’s ingrained, they’re beta wolves. Subconsciously, I wanted to be with you, even while I consciously needed you to leave for the sake of the pack’s secret. In the end, it was almost a win-win. And then that Carstairs woman shifted into a—well, whatever she shifted into—in front of your camera.”
“Is that why you revealed yourself to me?”
Casper took a big gulp of coffee and liquor. “No. I could’ve made that video disappear, could’ve gaslighted you, made you the Donut Girl Who Cried Werewolf.”
“But you didn’t. Why? Because you fell in love with me at first sight?” Trina intended the words to come out snarky. Instead, she heard an earnest question.
“Actually, no. It occurred to me that my whole life was one big caper to try and fool everyone, including myself. Like the remodel plan, it was eventually gonna fall apart.”
“What do you mean, fool everyone?”
&n
bsp; He stuck his lower lip out, eyes shifting to the ceiling. “I do everything for the pack, everything that’s expected of me, save the one thing I’m supposed to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Mature.”
“I don’t get it.”
His focus remained distant. “Wolf behavior is structured, our roles mandated from birth. I’m an alpha male. I should lead the pack. Instead, I put up with three alpha bitches who have more of a say in what we do. I complain about it, whine about it. If I were a mature alpha male, there would be no disputes. Succeed or fail, I would be in charge. Period.”
“You own your own house, your own business. You haven’t said how old you are, but I figure you have a few years on me.”
“A mature wolf is a mated wolf. You wouldn’t know it by interacting, but Cheyenne, Laramie and even Sheridan are, by the rule, more mature than I am. It never crossed my mind that I was doing myself a disservice, until I found someone even more self-sabotaging than me.”
“Who?”
“You.”
Trina sat back. “Me?”
“What’s that you always say? Something good will happen—you just have to wait for it.”
She set her mug on the coffee table with a thunk. “What’s wrong with having a positive attitude? You want me to mope and whine all the time? That doesn’t solve anything. You’ve got to keep your chin up.”
“And when something good actually does happen?”
Words caught in her throat. “I—what? What are you talking about?”
“If you had the opportunity for something better, something you had to work for, fight for. What then?”
Her hands waved wildly of their own accord. “Well, then, it just happens. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that sometimes, you can’t just wait for it, you have to go for it. It drives me crazy that you just let things slide. But you, you’re always being positive about the future, even when a little effort on your part could make things better.”
“That’s bullshit!”
Casper went on. “A wait-and-see philosophy is a lazy way to live. For fuck’s sake, I want to be your champion, but it’s tough to get behind you when you won’t fight.”
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