Melinda's Wolves

by Becca Jameson

  Keegan couldn’t believe this was happening. Why? Usually months went by on a construction site without as many injuries as he could count in the last few days. It was ludicrous.

  As he reached the hole a man had fallen into, he came to an abrupt stop. Behind the crowd of people leaning over the embankment and shouting down at the fallen man was a replica of the very same black shadow he’d seen that morning in his bedroom.

  The cloud coalesced into a form that reminded Keegan of a bear—the same bear he’d seen in his bedroom. It hovered, gliding forward as if to see into the hole better.

  And then it seemed to focus on Keegan, the edges of the form shimmering in the sunlight.

  Keegan felt drawn to it, his body propelled forward by a force he couldn’t explain. He ignored the rescue mission around him and stepped to the other side of the hole, never once taking his gaze off the shadow.

  The cloud turned with him, following his movements.

  The closer Keegan got, the more his anxiety should have risen. Instead he felt a sense of calm. Why?

  The shadow seemed to reach out to him, as though it had hands, palm up, encouraging Keegan to approach.

  Keegan eased forward. As he reached the cloud, standing less than a foot away, he lifted a hand. And between one blink and the next, the shadow disappeared. Like magic. Poof. And it was gone.

  Keegan spun around in a circle, certain he would find the spirit relocated behind him or to one side.

  Nothing.

  Someone grabbed his arm. “Phillips,” the voice said. He registered the sound, but it seemed to be filtered as though it came to him from under water. Or he was in a bit of a trance…

  He shook himself and faced the speaker.

  Mitch.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Keegan licked his lips. “Nothing.”

  “You look like you’re talking to a ghost.”

  Keegan tried to chuckle. “That’s absurd.”

  Mitch didn’t find it funny. “I would have thought so too, except I watched you with my own eyes. You were like a zombie drawn to blood the way you stepped around everyone to reach this spot.”

  Keegan looked away. Mitch may have been his closest friend outside of Trace, but no way in hell was he about to tell the man what he’d seen. In fact, he wouldn’t believe it himself if he hadn’t already experienced something similar that morning and heard equally entertaining tales from his mate.

  Except they weren’t tales. This was real. As real as strange visiting spirits could be. What did it mean?

  Whoops of excitement came from behind Keegan, and he ignored Mitch’s comments to let his gaze land on the man being hauled out of the pit.

  Keegan’s shoulders relaxed as he watched the guy wave at the crowd of onlookers. Thank God.

  “I need to go,” Keegan said to Mitch. “I’ll see you here in the morning? Eight?”

  Mitch nodded, his head cocked to one side. “Not even going to ask.”

  “Yeah. That’s a good plan.”

  Keegan knew exactly where he was headed. And it wasn’t home.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As Keegan climbed into his truck, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped through his contacts until he found Griffen.

  His brother-in-law answered on the first ring. He sounded tired. “Hey.”

  “Griffen. I need your help.”

  “Anything. What’s the matter?”

  “I need to speak to your grandmother. Can you give me her address?”

  “Of course, but I can do even better. She’s here right now.”

  Perfect. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. And Griffen?”

  “Yeah, I can read between the lines—this is between you and me.”

  “Thanks.” Keegan hung up and started the engine.

  In record time he pulled up at Griffen’s house, cringing to be imposing on the new father and his mates. But it couldn’t be helped.

  He climbed down from the truck and headed for the porch. As he reached the steps he nearly jumped out of his skin to find Mimi sitting on the porch swing, swaying back and forth. “Son.” She scooted to one side and patted the vacated space. Her small frame seemed frail. Her hands shook. Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She was exactly the image of what Melinda would look like in sixty years. It was hard for Keegan to not soak in that thought.

  At the same time, Keegan felt a trail of unease creep up his spine. “Did Griffen tell you I was coming?”

  “No. He didn’t have to. I knew on my own. And I’m pleased you have sought me out. I know that takes great courage for a man who mated my granddaughter only a few days ago.”

  The woman wasn’t kidding. Keegan still wasn’t sure this was the best-laid plan. He took the offered seat at her side and leaned his elbows on his knees. “How much do you know?”

  “Enough. There is great unrest at your casino site. I don’t need to drive there to feel the rumblings coming in waves across the land as if the soil is speaking to me.”

  Ordinarily, before the events of the last few days, that would have sounded absurd, and yet Keegan nodded.

  Mimi didn’t say anything for a long time, and then she put him in his place. “You’re keeping important information from my granddaughter and your other mate.”

  “Only for about an hour, but yes.”

  “You must tell them. They have a right to know of the danger.”

  Keegan nodded. This woman gave him the creeps.

  “As for the land, it’s not stable.”

  “The land? Or the building?”

  Mimi shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “A judge would think so.” If the original foundation would have been relatively stable after the earthquake by following all the regulations in place at the time, a court of law would have blamed any mishap on the seismic activity. If, however, Templeton Construction cut corners the first time around, they would now be liable for any mishaps.

  “I don’t care what a judge would think, frankly.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I care about the safety of my granddaughter, her mates, and the hundreds of other workers at that site.”

  “And the land,” he pointed out.

  She nodded. “This is a truth. I hate that casino. Everyone knows my position on that project. But this has nothing to do with my personal opinion. Heed my words, that construction is doomed. It will never occur. There’s no doubt of that in my soul. The question isn’t when will it fail, but rather how many innocent souls will die in the process.”

  Incredible. Keegan focused on Mimi’s words, staring at her severe expression. The crazy thing was he knew she was right. He’d known it before he arrived. He didn’t need a shaman to tell him.

  He breathed heavily for several moments, staring at the old woman’s serious face. She would not apologize for her harsh manner. This was her way. And he knew she was right. He didn’t expect her to soften the blow. It would have been ludicrous anyway.

  Finally he blew out a breath. “What should I do?”

  Mimi smiled faintly. “Follow your heart, son. Listen to the voices in your soul. They will guide you. The spirits won’t let you down. They have made their presence known to you now on two occasions. There’s a reason for that. You must heed their warning. Open your mind. Listen. Act.” Her words filtered through the air like a thin layer of cotton candy.

  And he knew deep inside he must listen to her. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. So cold. So rigid. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Mimi set her other hand on top of his. “No thanks necessary, son. Now go. Talk to your mates. Make a plan. And then act. Quickly before it’s too late.”

  He had so many more questions, but none of them were issues Mimi would be able to answer. Her position was that of medicine woman. She had visions, feelings, vibes of concern. She didn’t have an action plan to evacuate the premises and keep the employees safe. That was his job.

  He finally released her and stood. He had one
final thought. “Will there be another earthquake?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know.”

  He nodded and jogged down the porch toward his truck. He hadn’t even gone inside to say hello. Mimi would make his apologies.

  As he drove home, his fingers shook on the steering wheel. He bounced his leg up and down with worry.

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into his driveway and made his way into the house on leaden feet. When he stepped inside, he found Melinda sitting on the island giggling at something Trace said. Trace was leaning over the stove, stirring something. His back was turned to both of them.

  The house smelled fantastic, like red sauce and garlic. Spaghetti?

  Too bad he would vomit if he swallowed even one bite.

  Both Melinda and Trace turned their heads to face him as he shut the front door. Their faces fell instantly.

  “What happened?” Melinda asked.

  Keegan blew out a long breath as he approached them. He rounded the island, clamped a hand briefly on Trace’s shoulder, and then nudged Melinda’s thighs apart and buried his head against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her ass and held on as though she were a life line.

  Melinda buried her hands in his hair, pulled the elastic band free, and stroked through the long strands. “Talk to us.”

  He would. He had no choice. But he needed a moment to bask in her touch first.

  Trace spoke first. “Where have you been?” he asked gently.

  Keegan lifted his head, keeping one arm around Melinda as he turned to face Trace. “I went to see Mimi.”

  Melinda sucked in a breath.

  “And?” Trace asked.

  “It was probably more for moral support than anything else. I was curious. I needed to hear what she had to say.” He chuckled. “Hell, I needed her to chew me a new asshole is what I needed.”

  “I could have done that for you,” Melinda teased. “All you had to do was ask.”

  He smiled, grazing his hand up her back until he reached her neck. He cupped the back of her head and leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled back, he groaned. “I know. But sitting on the porch at Griffen’s house talking to Mimi didn’t make my dick hard. I get a little distracted when you talk to me. No offense.”

  She giggled. “None taken. And I’m glad you aren’t physically attracted to my grandma.”

  Silence fell.

  Keegan knew his mates were waiting on him to speak.

  Something sizzled on the stove. Trace turned around and extinguished all the burners. He lifted a giant pot of pasta, carried it to the sink, and poured it in the colander. Steam rose into the air. When he finished, he wiped his hands on a towel and nodded to the living room. “Let’s go sit down.”

  Keegan lifted Melinda off the counter and kept a hand on her lower back as they rounded to the couch. He pulled her down next to him while Trace took a seat in the chair next to the sofa.

  He needed to just get it all out. “I got a threatening email.”

  Melinda grabbed his hand and squeezed.

  Trace narrowed his gaze, stroking his chin with his fingers. He wasn’t stupid. He’d been in the room when Keegan had read the email for the dozenth time.

  “I was given choices. Either back off and stop investigating this rumor of intentional disregard for safety and find a way to convince others there is no reason to worry, or…” he licked his lips, “the situation will be handled for me.”

  “Fuck,” Trace muttered.

  “Yeah. Or fucked, depending on how you want to look at it.”

  “You won’t back off, of course,” Melinda stated emphatically.

  Keegan gave her a wan smile. “Of course. And in the spirit of obviousness, you’ll leave town and hide somewhere safe, right?”

  She laughed outright then and rolled her eyes. “Sure, let me just pack my bags. I’ve been needing a vacation.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Trace stated without acknowledging her mirth.

  Melinda jumped up, yanking her hand from Keegan’s. She stomped to the center of the room, far enough neither man could reach out and grab her. “Please tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

  Keegan shook his head. “Not kidding. But I know you well, hon. I’m clear on your stance. I’m sure any effort of coercion on my part would be wasted and only assure me a cozy spot on the couch for the duration of the night.”

  “Damn right.” She set her hands on her hips. “Do not ever fucking mention the idea of separating again. We might work in different locations during the day—perhaps miles apart from each other—but at night, we three share the same bed. Nonnegotiable. For life.” She added a tapping foot for emphasis or perhaps out of stress. “I never want to go to sleep angry or separated. Got it?”

  Keegan nodded. He reached out a hand. “Come back. I need to touch you. When I have a hand on you, it calms me.”

  She inched forward. “Then why on earth would you suggest I leave town?”

  “I’m not so selfish that I don’t value your safety over my comfort.”

  She stepped between his legs and set her hands on his shoulders as he tipped his head back. “We’re a team. Thank you for sharing this information. I know it was hard for you. I don’t want secrets between us.”

  “Trust me. My revelation wasn’t altruistic in the least. The only reason I considered mentioning it was out of fear for your safety when you aren’t with one of us.” He grabbed her waist during this admission.

  “I’ll let that slide and bask in your openness.” She pulled his head in to her chest and hugged him tight.

  “We need a plan,” Trace pointed out.

  “Yes.” Keegan leaned back, pulling Melinda across his lap and holding her side tight against him.

  “We’ll have to call the FBI now. This is bigger than either of our sheriff’s offices can handle. I’ll call my boss tonight and let him know what’s going on. You call Corbin and then his chief.”

  Keegan nodded.

  “Tomorrow, we go in to work with far more bodies. You’ll continue to collect all the data you can on the shortcuts taken at the site. A large deputy presence will keep anyone from being able to cause a problem.”

  “Until we all leave to go home,” Keegan added.

  “In numbers there is strength.” Trace lifted his face. “You’ll come with us tomorrow.”

  Melinda shook her head. “Nope. I need to do inventory at my shop tomorrow. And besides, I’m probably safer away from you than with you. And you know it.”

  “We don’t know anything anymore,” Trace said. “But we also aren’t going to argue about this tonight. I’ll get one of the guys from the precinct to go with you to the shop.”

  “How about if I get someone from the rez instead,” Melinda offered. “A Native American shifter on the force would be even more intimidating as a body guard. Plus he would know the area better.”

  “Okay.” Keegan squeezed her waist. “So we have a temporary plan for tomorrow. We’ll need to reevaluate at the end of the day. We can’t very well live like this indefinitely.”

  Trace rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “Hell, this can’t possibly go on indefinitely. All we need is a court injunction that shuts down the construction. Even a temporary injunction would send all the workers home during the investigation. If we can accomplish that, we can breathe easier while Templeton Construction dukes it out in court. Meanwhile, we’ll continue to investigate the builder until we nail someone’s ass to the wall. It may take time gathering info, but at least an unsafe environment won’t continue to flourish while we wait.”

  Keegan nodded. He hoped it was that simple. If he had to live with the constant stress that Melinda’s life was in danger, he would have a heart attack soon.

  Melinda lifted his chin and met his gaze. “Let’s eat. You have to be starving. And then I’ll see what I can do to make that wrinkle on your forehead disappear for a while.”

  “Excellent.”

  •●•

  “It doesn�
��t seem to me as if you’re handling things.” Wayne paced in his office, running a hand through his hair. “The site is now covered with deputies. Hell, the fucking FBI has been called. Is that construction office clean?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Yes. I did it myself. The deputies won’t find anything to implicate you or indicate that there was an intentional use of substandard materials.”

  “You better be damn sure of that.”

  “Look, it isn’t a stretch. Relax. The entire construction site is a disaster from the earthquake. The damage from that incident alone is enough. I’m sure even a thorough investigation would turn up nothing but crumbling structures as a result of seismic activity and wear and tear on the materials from sitting for over a year.”

  “You better be right. If not, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

  “I’m sure.” The man’s voice was stronger than previous conversations, but Wayne still worried about his choice for handling this mess.

  “If I have to take more extreme measures to cover this up, I won’t hesitate. Keep that in mind while you’re enjoying your life of luxury.”

  The man said nothing, though Wayne thought he heard him swallow.

  Wayne ended the call.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The following morning did not bring less stress to Keegan’s life. Two men from the reservation met Keegan and Trace at Melinda’s shop—one from the sheriff’s office and a civilian who was a friend of the Bartel family. Apparently Melinda’s family was well-respected among the tribe. It hadn’t been difficult to find volunteers to help without question.

  The unease Keegan felt from the moment he arrived at the construction site did not abate in the least. He wasn’t sure if he was overreacting from the various forces against him or not. He couldn’t take any chances though.

  He took a deep breath and considered how nervous he would be without having met Melinda.

  Very.

  The facts alone were daunting. Dead guy who sent him a warning email. A new email threatening Keegan outright. Shit all over the place in disarray from the previous night. New problems that crept up by the hour—both physical and unexplainable. An overall eerie vibe everywhere around the construction site.