Harry liked her. He wasn't sure if he should, and he wasn't going to let hieing her get in the way of solving his current missing person case, if she was involved in any way. But he liked her—and he desired her.
He liked the way she walked; he liked the way she talked. He liked her dark red hair, her big brown eyes, and her heart-shaped face. He liked the way her shapely bottom was nicely molded by the khaki slacks she wore. He liked her voice, and the way she smelled, and the roundness of her breasts beneath the teal sweater, and the way she had hips like a real woman and a slender waist.
That sharp chin indicated a lot of stubbornness, and there was sorrow deep in those brandy brown eyes. She was a human, but he didn't hold that against her. He was human himself most of the time. And Dr. Piper had a little extra psychic energy that definitely appealed to the animal in him.
He was certain that he was going to bed her before he left town.
Though she didn't know he knew it, he knew a lot about her. Along with his nose, and an ability to ask questions, he had a laptop, and knew how to use the Internet.
After catching the scent of one of the missing kids at her ranch, he'd done a little digging with his laptop. Dr. Piper was single and wealthy. She'd been born and raised here, though she'd gone to school in California and practiced there for a while. Then she'd returned home and lost both parents within several years of each other. First her mother, to heart failure, then her father to cancer a year ago. She ran her animal shelter with private funds and kept to herself.
What was her connection to one of the missing teenagers Harry was hunting? And why hadn't she told anyone about him—in either his wolf or human form? Not that she'd recognize him in either form, since he'd spent a lot of energy projecting you've never seen me before at her in the store.
He also wondered how soon he would see her again and how soon he could get her alone. He'd like touching Marjorie Piper, and wanted to do a much more thorough job of it the next time.
But for now, it was time to get to the party at the high school. He'd told his kinsman he'd meet them there, as soon as he bought something for the potluck. And it looked like it was to be salsa and chips.
chapter 4
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"May we join you?"
Marj was surprised at shy Annette Fennick's request.
Terry and Annette Fennick made her look like a social butterfly. They kept to themselves, home schooling their teenaged son, Phil. Over the years, Marj had seen far more of Phil than she had of his parents. It was from Phil that she'd learned about a new baby sister arriving six months ago. They must have found a sitter tonight, because here they were, with Terry standing diffidently just behind Annette, his hand on her shoulder.
Marj had been sitting alone with Pat for nearly an hour, and the conversation wasn't getting any more interesting, no matter how hard they tried. She smiled at the couple, and said, "Sure, join us."
She didn't look at him, but she could practically feel Pat Mutter's frown at the intrusion. Well, maybe he'd been more entertained than she was, but she didn't think she'd been exactly scintillating.
The Hobday Fete was being held in the gym, with round tables and folding chairs set up in one half and a line of long tables for the auction of crafts and such on the other side of the room. Red paper tablecloths alternated with green ones and there was a potted poinsettia as a centerpiece on each of the dinner tables. The food for the potluck meal was heavy on decorated cookies, fruitcakes, and boxes of candy. She wasn't the only one to have brought eggnog, and there was also a bowlful of punch and an urn of coffee. Fortunately, Pat and Alice had made sure there was turkey, mashed potatoes, and other real food, so the guests weren't subsisting solely on a sugar-and-caffeine buzz.
Marj had left Taffy, the black greyhound, a pair of mixed breed puppies, and the rescued kittens in kennel crates behind one of the tables across the room. A sign reading name the greyhound hung over the black beauty's crate. Taffy was there to keep the greyhound company. And Marj had hopes of finding homes for the kittens and puppies before the evening was over.
Unfortunately, many of the dinner tables were only half full, or even empty. Not a lot of the population of Kennedyville had shown up for this holiday event. It was sad, really, and Marj was beginning to think that maybe there was something to Alice's repeated statements about how they were a "town in crisis."
"The fire should have brought us together; instead it's torn us apart," Alice's had proclaimed, and they organized this get-together with the new minister's help. Though she'd badgered everyone within fifty miles to come, the turnout was pretty disappointing.
Across the gym, Alice was now frowning furiously at the Fennicks for interrupting Marj and Pat's tête-à-tête, and Marj had to grin. Alice was seriously into matchmaking mode.
Marj's smile disappeared in surprise as the tall stranger from Murphy's store strode up behind the Fennicks.
"Hey, cousin," he said, putting a big hand on thin, sharp-featured Terry's shoulder. Then he held a chair out for Annette.
Quite the gentlemen, Marj decided.
Annette blushed and looked quite flustered at this gallantry. Terry took a seat beside his wife, and the stranger settled into the folding chair next to Marj. He reached a big hand across the table toward Pat, and said, "I'm Harrison Blethyin, but everybody calls me Harry. Nice to meet you."
The whole time he spoke, Marj couldn't help but notice that he was looking at her. And she couldn't help but look back. She wasn't sure what to make of it, and the amused twinkle in his blue eyes was—disconcerting.
It made her want to snuggle up close to him, unbutton his shirt, and start doing things that it was best not to think about while sitting across from the minister. She also had the feeling that Harry Blethyin knew exactly what she was feeling, and it was exactly what he wanted from her.
"Hello, Marjorie Piper," Harry's smile widened and his eyes turned hot. "It's good to see you again." His look implied that he definitely hadn't seen enough the first time.
Marj went hot all over but managed to say calmly enough, "It's only been an hour."
"You two know each other?" Pat asked.
"How's Taffy?" Harry asked, as though it was the most urgent thing in the world. He put his big hand over hers on the tabletop. "Did he enjoy the eggnog?"
"We do not know each other," Marj answered Pat. Yet she didn't pull her hand away, though there was no reason for allowing Harry's familiarity.
"It was the eggnog that brought us together. And Sam Murphy, of course."
"You are being inane," Marj told Harry. She looked at the Fennicks as Harry's fingers twined with hers. "How's the baby? And how's Phil? I haven't seen him for a while." And who is this man, and why is he with you?
"I'm a distant cousin," Harry said. "I've come for the holidays."
Marj didn't believe him. She didn't know why. Maybe because it felt like he'd plucked the words out of her head. It was as if they could silently speak to each other, which shook her. This was an intimacy far different than the empathy she'd always shared with animals.
"Welcome to Kennedyville, Mr. Blethyin," Pat spoke up.
"Call me Harry."
You should be called dangerous, Marj thought She could sense it, beneath the good looks and the easy charm. He shrugged out of his brown leather jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to bare muscular forearms, and sat back in his chair, looking like he was simply enjoying this small-town social function.
But there was something watchful about him. An aura that said he owned whatever space he was in. Everyone was looking at him. He knew it, expected it, and paid it no mind. The man filled the room, and this being a gym, that meant he took up a lot of emotional space. He was alpha to the max, even just sitting there, smiling.
Marj didn't think she liked his overwhelming maleness, but it certainly was compelling. She'd bet every woman in that room felt a bit flushed and more female because of Mr. Blethyin's charisma.
The d
eep, inner wolf part of Harry didn't like it that Marjorie Piper was with another male. He must be more attracted to her than he'd thought, or he wouldn't be having this reaction. And he wouldn't want to be touching her above all else. Touching was a very important part of the mating ritual.
He was here to work, he reminded himself, not to start a ruckus with another male over the right to possess a mate. Especially a male like Patrick Muller. It was beneath his dignity; it wouldn't be fair to pick on someone who was so obviously a beta.
The first thing he'd noticed when he entered the gym was Marjorie Piper sitting alone with the man, looking bored. He'd been tempted to cross the room and take her away immediately. But since he was here on business, he'd sent his kinfolk to make sharing this table seem ordinary. He hated having to use the Fennicks. They were worried parents and wary of being around their human neighbors for any length of time. But they'd volunteered to do anything they could to help, so he took them at their word.
"So, you know my young cousin, Phil," he said to Marj, getting down to business. "He's grown a lot lately, don't you think?"
"I don't know about lately," she answered. "I haven't seen him for a couple of months."
The scent he'd encountered at her ranch had been an old one, and it hadn't been just the scent of a young were-fox. There'd also been a werecat of some sort, cougar, maybe. The scent had been faint, and carefully masked. The kids had used the animals on the ranch to cover their own trail, and he hadn't been able to follow it, even though he had the best nose in the business. He didn't like being thwarted. Surely, this woman had some information that could set him on the right trail.
He felt Annette Fennick straining to ask about her boy, and he put a hand gently on her shoulder for a moment, letting the quick touch both reassure her and remind her that he was in charge.
"A couple of months? What was he doing at your ranch?" he asked Marj.
She gave him a suspicious look. "Did I say he was at my ranch?"
Her challenging tone made him bristle, instinctive alpha behavior, but he didn't let it show. She felt it though. He could tell by the way her brown eyes dilated and her body chemistry shifted, that she was aware of him, as a female. Across the gym, he heard a faint growl from her protective dog.
"I assumed," he said to Marj. "Perhaps I shouldn't have."
"Phil did stop by back in October," she said, looking at Annette. "He showed me a photo of the baby. She looks a lot like Terry, doesn't she?"
"A lot," Annette agreed.
"Was his friend with him?" Harry asked.
"Clark?" Marj nodded.
So, it was the werecougar. He was the ringleader of the crazy, little runaway group.
"What do you do for a living?" Patrick Muller spoke up.
"I'm a private investigator," Harry answered. No reason not to be honest with these people, but lots of reasons to be very cautious.
"That's a pretty macho profession," Marj said, not admiringly.
"I was a police detective in San Diego." he said, looking at her sternly. "Now I work on my own, specializing in missing persons cases." He touched the arch of his nose. "I've got the nose for it."
Annette gave him a worried look, as though he'd just given something away about his olfactory talents. She and her husband were werefoxes, and they had no sense of humor about the way weres and humans could interact.
It's a silly joke, he thought at the werefox woman.
Marj blinked and shook her head. Then gave him a very suspicious look.
That she was picking up on his thoughts was very disturbing. And sexy. This touching on many levels was deeply sensuous, but it wasn't the time or place to explore it. Later, when minds as well as bodies could share, the experience would be explosive. He'd heard it could be addicting, too. He'd have to watch out for that.
Before he could say anything else, a pretty blond woman came up to the table. She was smiling, but there was disappointment in her eyes as she looked from him and the Fennicks to Marjorie and Muller.
"Hello, Alice," Marj said. "This is Harry. Alice organized all this," she told Harry. And you've spoiled her matchmaking, and she's probably really pissed.
But there wasn't really anything to spoil, was there? he thought back at her. She'd just pretend her imagination was being overactive, because humans always looked for sensible, logical explanations when weird stuff happened to them.
"I'm sorry." Marj gestured around the sparsely populated gym. "I know you hoped more people would come."
"But it was an almost spur-of-the-moment celebration," Pat added. "Next year we'll plan it better."
Alice sighed and pulled up a chair. "This is not going too well," she conceded. "Maybe you should have brought the wolf, Marj. People would have shown up to see that."
Angry, Harry had to look down sharply and make a conscious effort not to let his fangs grow.
"I don't exhibit dangerous animals. They don't belong in cages," Marj said sternly.
Her words went straight to his heart. He almost kissed her then and there. As it was, he was barely able not to give her a grateful look. He wasn't here to fall in love, but to find some missing teenagers.
If those teenagers had been human, this wouldn't be such a hazardous assignment. But he had to be more than doubly on guard to protect the secret of all his kind. Involvement with a human could be a costly, dangerous distraction. Oh, he intended to have sex with her; he was too alpha to deny himself that pleasure. He just had to watch out for emotional involvement.
But right now the most important question was, what was her emotional involvement with the wolf?
"What are you going to do with this wolf?" he asked.
"Where did the wolf come from?" Alice asked at the same time. "You said it was shot by the men in the van, but—"
"Does the sheriff have any information about them yet?" Muller wanted to know. "Was the greyhound stolen?"
Harry willed Marj to answer him first. He got the strong sense that she didn't want to talk about it at all.
chapter 5
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Marj held up her hands, and said, "I don't know where to begin."
The group around the table waited. She was intensely aware of Harry watching her, willing her to concentrate only on him. She fought off the almost overwhelming urge to do so and deliberately addressed Pat. "I'm fairly certain that she's a racing greyhound."
"How can you tell?" Pat asked.
"She's a gentle princess, but she doesn't have a lot of social skills."
"Never been housebroken," Harry said.
Marj nodded, without looking at the P.I. "And she has no concept of how to go up and down stairs. A track dog wouldn't know how to live in a house." She glanced over to where the greyhound lay, with Taffy resting beside her. "I figure she was stolen from a track, since the bastards cut her to remove all identification marks."
"Why would anyone do that?" Alice asked.
Marj shrugged. "I've made calls and sent e-mails, but I haven't heard back from anywhere about a missing racer yet."
She rather hoped she didn't. She knew it was selfish of her, but Taffy and the black lady had bonded instantly. She hated the idea of her dog finding the love of his life, then losing her to the hard world of dog-racing tracks.
"They had the dog and the wolf in the van, and the animals somehow got away," Pat surmised. "What do you think they were doing with a wolf, too?"
"They were probably going to sell it," Harry spoke up. "Wolves might be endangered in places in the wild, but there's a huge trade in them as pets."
Alice gasped. "You're kidding!"
"He's right," Marj concurred. "People actually breed and sell wolves."
"They're dangerous animals."
"That's right, Alice," Harry answered. "And when people who buy wolf pups to raise as pets find out that their adorable puppy grows up wild at heart, things generally don't turn out well for the wolf."
Marj heard his bitterness and absolutely agreed with it.
"You know whereof you speak."
His gaze caught hers. "I've done a lot of volunteer work with wolf rescue and rehabilitation at a wolf center in Colorado."
"Really?"
Marj tried hard to hide her sudden eagerness as an idea occurred to her. But she was sure he recognized that a lightbulb had gone off over her head, by the look in his eyes, and the slight smile that lifted the strong curve of his lips. That look also told her that whatever she wanted, it wouldn't come for free.
Fair enough.
She needed to talk to Harrison Blethyin, and she needed to talk to him alone.
Marj stood, and said, "Alice, it looks like everyone's finished eating. Why don't we get on to the craft fair and raffle part of the evening?"
"Wolves mate for life, you know."
A chill went through Marj at Harry's words, followed by a swift, hot, confusing rush of longing.
Mating for life. With who? Him? God, what a thought!
She gave her head a swift, hard shake.
He loomed above her, looking dangerous and unpredictable. There was a wild glint in his eyes. He'd unbuttoned his shirt collar, rolled up his sleeves, and a strand of black hair had fallen across his forehead, adding to the undomesticated look. He brushed it back with a quick, graceful gesture. For a moment she couldn't breathe, staring at his large, capable-looking hand.
"What?" she finally asked. She could barely get out the word.
Those eyes told her he was perfectly aware of her stunned, visceral, reaction to him, but he pointed behind where she sat. "And what are dogs but wolves that know they have a good thing? Those two are in love."
She'd been playing with the basket of kittens set on the table before her, dangling a green Christmas ribbon for them to bat at. Now, she turned to look where Harry was pointing, knowing that she'd see Taffy and the greyhound lying side by side. The old black metal folding chair creaked as she moved.
The Shadows of Christmas Past Page 23