Linc gave an unsympathetic snort. “You’re alive, buddy. If you want your pretty face back, regenerate.”
“Your sister thinks I might just decide to burn up.”
“Which one? Eleanor or Frankie?”
“Frankie.”
“Well, don’t off yourself before you provide for your family.”
After three years of his family tiptoeing around his issues, Lincoln’s bracing casualness was refreshing.
“What do you think I should do, Linc?”
“Man up. Go to Mystic Bay, check out the Belfasts. Woo your fated mate. Bond with your kid. Who the heck cares if your face will never launch a single ship?”
“Huh. What else do you know about this woman? As in, where the heck would I have met a unicorn?”
“I’ll do a bit more digging, Rafael, talk with Cameron, and call you back.”
“You do that thing.”
“But all I will be able to do is flesh out the facts, cousin. Knowing more about Samantha and Carmody Belfast isn’t going to change the reality that you have a child growing up without you or her clan. And Hardy has a cousin he’s never met.” Harding was Linc and Beverly little boy. Shift on a fricking smashed stick. Rafe’s head began to ache.
Linc hung up after a brief goodbye. Rafael’s phone pinged. Time for the painkillers and his antidepressant. He reached for the plastic blister pack the pharmacy delivered every week. Pulled his hand back. No. He needed to be able to think. Job one was to call the f’ing lawyers and see about including the kid in his trust.
Drake, Drake, and Wolfmann answered on the first ring. Mr. Ernest Wolfmann would return Maj. D’Angelo’s call ASAP. Damned straight. Drake, Drake, and Wolfmann had been the attorneys of record to four or maybe five generations of D’Angelos. The firm had been founded by dragons and werewolves and most of their clients were still shifters.
The pain meds called Rafael’s name, but he resisted temptation. He had to get this arranged.
Ernest phoned twenty minutes later when the pain had become a jackhammer in his skull. Rafael pushed it aside to explain the situation. It didn’t take long. He had a love child and wanted her added to the trust.
Ernest cleared his throat. “Can’t be done,” he said.
“Why the heck not?”
“The D’Angelo Trust dates back to the nineteenth century. Couldn’t get away with some of the provisions in it nowadays. But back then excluding illegitimate children was standard procedure. They had no standing in law and neither did their mothers.”
“Can’t we do something?” Rafael snapped. “This is the twenty-first century.”
There was a long pause. “Nope. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I advised you to try to break a trust that has been in operation for over a century. No judge would be willing to do so – even if no one in the family objected.”
“No one would,” Rafael pointed out.
“Probably not. But it still wouldn’t fly. We could spend a whole bushel of money and at the end of the day, the child would be unprovided for. Unless you marry the mother and regularize the child’s birth. That is a very straightforward procedure. I’d have to check whether or not legitimization follows automatically on marriage in – where’d you say they were living? Oregon?”
“Oregon,” Rafael confirmed.
“I’ll put my clerk on it as soon as I hang up. But in the meantime, Major, my advice is to set up monthly payments to the mother. And to rewrite your will, of course.”
“Do I have a will?” Rafael asked. Most things had come back to his memory, but there were lots of odd gaps remaining. Frustrating, infuriating gaps. Gaps that made his head throb to contemplate. He needed those meds.
“Sure. We revised it on your thirtieth birthday.” The sound of a clicking keyboard interrupted Ernest. “Leaves everything to your brothers’ and sisters’ kids.”
“You better change it,” Rafael said wearily. “Substitute Samantha and Carmody Belfast.”
“Someone will have that to you by tomorrow morning.” Edgar paused. “You’ll need a third party to read it to you. And your own witness. Can you arrange that?”
The task felt overwhelming, but Rafael didn’t feel like exposing his lack of drive to Wolfmann. He swallowed. “I’ll have an attorney here at 1000 hours to look that material over.”
*Beloved by the Bear
CHAPTER NINE
Mystic Bay,
Samantha~
“You say you can’t locate my mother?” Samantha Belfast spoke into her cell phone. Around her the hum of several dozen clamoring tourists quieted as the crowd in Greene’s Gallery paused to listen in on her conversation. “I’ll be right there.”
“No rush,” said Anton Benoit calmly.
Even though he was a bear shifter, Samantha did not fear Anton. She found his big muscular presence a comfort. Maybe that was because he had found her daughter safe and sound before*. This made the third time. Her nerves began an all too familiar twitching.
“She’s going to draw me a picture while we wait for you. I’ll have security page your mom again. I’m sure she is just looking for Carmody. You take your time, Samantha.”
Her mom had charge of Carmody. Mom should have been on guard against Carmody’s tendency to wander. But no one knew better than Samantha how quietly determined her three-year-old could be. And how fast. Anton’s deep voice was reassuring, but Samantha’s sense of panic remained. Why would Mom leave Carmody alone?
“What is it?” asked her boss.
“Carmody was found wandering by herself in the Drake Museum. They can’t find my mother. I have to go and get her.” Samantha’s words tumbled out in a rush of fear.
Hope patted her shoulder and smiled kindly. “The museum is just down the street. Off you go. I’m sure your mom is looking for Carmody and has her hearing aids turned off or something. Don’t worry about the store.”
Mom didn’t wear hearing aids. Araminta had perfect hearing to go with her perfect vision. Unicorns were famed for their powerful paranormal senses. Which was why Carmody’s ability to slip away was so disturbing.
“Thanks,” Samantha muttered, pushing her way through the crowd of shoppers waiting to pay. Hope might say it didn’t matter, but having her cashier vanish during a rush wasn’t going to make Samantha employee of the month.
Nothing in Mystic Bay was very far apart. But it was a summer Saturday and the streets were thronged with tourists. There was a long line-up outside the Drake Museum. But the security guard at the door admitted her at once.
“Mr. Benoit is expecting you, ma’am,” Cheryl Dreyfus said loudly for the benefit of the line Samantha had blown past. “Don Murdock is waiting at the elevator to take you up.”
Like Cheryl, Don was a security guard. He keyed the elevator so it would go up to the administrative floor. “We found your mom,” he said. “Araminta went outside because she couldn’t find Carmody. They are both in Anton’s office.” Mr. Benoit was just for public use.
Samantha’s heart still wouldn’t settle down. But she thanked Don with automatic courtesy. A unicorn is never rude. A unicorn is never impatient. Never hostile. Never angry. Some fine unicorn she turned out to be, with her emotions a constant welter of fury, resentment, guilt, and grief.
Carmody was sprawled on the floor of Anton’s office coloring busily. “Hi, Mom,” she said happily. Samantha’s mom was sitting bolt upright behind Anton’s desk looking nervous in the presence of two hunters. Anton and a stranger occupied the chairs in front of the desk. Both men stood and smiled when she entered the office.
“As you see, everyone is safe,” Anton said. “Do you know Dan Lindorm? Dan, this is Samantha Belfast.”
“How do you do?” Dan responded formally. She shook hands with the dragon shifter. They had not met, but everyone knew that Admiral Daniel Lindorm was on West Haven seeking a reconciliation with his wife Angelina**. Most people hoped they would settle permanently. Samantha hoped her friend would patch things up with her fated mate.
Her gaze darted between the two shifters. It was so unfair. Her phoenix had been just such a tall, stalwart and muscular shifter as these two alpha males. How had her unicorn senses betrayed her so badly and left her with a headstrong hybrid to raise on her own? She loved her daughter but she was a continual worry.
Samantha smiled weakly. “I’m happy to meet Angelina’s husband, Admiral. Say, thank you, Carmody. You’re going home with Grandma.”
Predictably, Carmody staged a major tantrum. Unicorns are never overemotional. Unicorn foals never act out. Mom pressed her lips into a thin line more censuring than any words. Samantha felt helpless. Anton needed his office back, she needed to return to work. But Carmody’s tantrums were always exacerbated by paying them any attention.
It was the dragon who saved the day. Daniel Lindorm offered his chair to Samantha and waved Mom back to her seat. “How long have you lived in Mystic Bay, Mrs. Belfast?” he asked casually from his perch on the edge of Anton’s desk, totally ignoring Carmody’s loud fuss.
“I was born here,” Mom said. Her face was stiff with embarrassment, and the residual fright at being in the presence of two hunters.
“West Haven is a truly beautiful island,” Dan said. “My wife and I have been wowed by the scenery. And the friendliness of the people. And of course Mystic Bay is an architectural gem.”
Mom launched into a rhapsody on the charms of West Haven in general, and Mystic Bay in particular. On the floor, Carmody’s thrashings and howls faded away into nothing. She looked around, visibly pouting at being ignored, before getting to her feet.
Samantha tried again. “It’s been nice meeting you, Admiral,” she said. “Mom and I have to get Carmody home. And I have to go back to work.”
“You help out at the Greene Gallery, I believe?” Dan asked.
“I’m the cashier.” Carmody’s little hand slipped into hers and tugged.
“I hope to see all three of you again,” Dan said.
Anton opened the office door. Carmody handed him the coloring book and crayons. “Thank you, Mr. Beaw,” she lisped.
Mom drew in her breath harshly at this bit of plain speaking. Unicorns were quiet, polite, and well-behaved from the cradle. Correct etiquette was instinctive. Too bad Carmody took after her father who was fond of calling a spade a shovel.
Could her proclivity for running off and verbal faux pas actually be symptoms of psychopathy, as Mom feared? Everyone in Mystic Bay knew hunter hybrids could be born evil. Was her child merely naughty or something worse?
“Thank you, Anton.” Samantha held out her hand and modeled correct behavior for her little juvenile delinquent, but Carmody was already skipping down the hall without stopping to say her goodbyes correctly.
“She’ll grow out of it.” Anton winked at her. Really, he was such a comforting man. What a pity he was already taken.
*Beloved by the Bear
**Adored by a Dragon
CHAPTER TEN
Tidewater Inn,
Mystic Bay,
Robin~
“Any other business, Sheriff?” Robin Fairchild asked.
Walter Babcock leaned back in the chair opposite her desk and adjusted his slight frame more comfortably. He had only been elected sheriff a couple of months ago, but he was handling his new job well. “Not to say, business, Mayor. But my wife passed along some information that may interest you.”
Melissa Babcock was one of Mystic Bay’s two realtors. “Something about the Spicer property?” Robin asked.
The Lindorms were interested in purchasing the Spicer estate, but like all land transfers on West Haven, it had to be approved by the town council. The council kept tabling the motion. Probably because they didn’t want the two dragons to buy the estate, particularly when the dragoness was pregnant. The Lindorms’ child would be a fairy-dragon hybrid, and some of the more hidebound councilors were stalling the vote in case it went against tradition. Their tradition.
As Angelina Lindorm was Robin’s cousin, she had excused herself from the voting, because it was a clear conflict of interest. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t actively in favor of the Lindorms’ purchase.
Walter shook his head. “No, ma’am. It’s about the Reynolds’ cottage. Mrs. Reynolds has a tenant for the rest of the summer.”
That was news indeed. “Is Melissa sure?” Even when the Tidewater Inn and its cottages were full, and every B&B on the island was stuffed to capacity, Ursula Reynolds’ remote and unserviced cottage stood empty.
“Melissa read it on a realty estate website.”
When she had decided she no longer was able to make the annual trek to her cottage and should rent it out, Ursula Reynolds had gone with a Portland real estate company. Even so, she had never found anyone willing to endure that primitive three-room cabin. Or the lean-to that passed for a bathroom.
“Does it even have a generator?” Robin asked.
“Not according to Melissa. But Mrs. Reynolds has the Mulcasters check on it every week. Herb put a new roof on two years ago. Replaced the front porch steps this year. He says it’s in pretty good shape considering how old it is.”
“It’s one of the few pioneer structures still standing,” Robin said. “Built of cedar logs. Should be good for another century. Did she rent it to a family?”
Walter pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “One tenant. According to the Mulcasters. A Maj. Hardy. A veteran. Known to Ms. Reynolds. Personal friend of one of her nephews. Sandy Mulcaster says the major wants her to come in to clean three times a week.”
“So long as he’s a sensitive, the council can have no possible objection,” Robin said.
“That’s one of the reasons Mrs. Reynolds hasn’t been able to rent the place,” Walter said. “She insisted on a sensitive. For sure he’s one of us.”
“Does Maj. Hardy know that there is no access except by water?” asked Robin.
Walter snorted. His watery blue eyes twinkled. “I certainly hope so. Otherwise he’s going to be one dumbfounded city slicker when he steps onto that durned dock and sees those stairs up to the cabin. Melissa says there are eighty-six of them.”
Robin chuckled lightly. “She’s probably right. But I trust she hasn’t gone to check.” Melissa was expecting another child.
Walter shook his head. “No, ma’am, and she doesn’t plan to. She may be pregnant, but she’s not bear-footed.”
Unlike the Reynolds who were a clan of bear shifters who had participated in tracking down and halting the Haverstocks. Afterward, they had been permitted to buy land. Their triangular acreage on the coast was hemmed in by the Old Forest on one side, a deep crevasse on another, and the Pacific on the third. No road had ever been constructed through the Old Forest, and none ever would be.
For the best part of two centuries, the Reynolds had had to approach their cottage by boat and carry their supplies up the side of a cliff to the clearing where their cabin stood. When Robin had been a girl, Ursula and her brothers had treated their annual visit to West Haven as a sport. Which it probably was for a family of bears.
It was probably the lack of access that had kept the cabin small. Lots of families as wealthy as the Reynolds had built cottages that were in truth mansions. But the Reynolds had kept their original log cabin. She rather thought that Ursula and her brothers had slept outdoors in bear all summer.
That had been a long time ago. Before those boys had signed up for the big one. None of them had come back. Like many women of her generation, Ursula had found that servicemen returning from WWII wanted to marry younger women. At any rate, she had never had a mate or children. Robin spared a thought for what would happen to the Reynolds’ land when Ursula died.
“I guess I should give Ursula a call, see how she’s doing, and who she rented to,” Robin said lightly. “Thanks for the tip, Walter.”
The little rabbit shifter stood up and adjusted the gear dangling from his belt. Walter was addicted to gadgets. But no one ever found him unprepared. He glanced at h
is watch face which was as broad as his thin wrist.
“Ferry should be in. Folks parking every which way. I’ve got some traffic tickets to write, Mayor.”
“Good hunting, Walter.”
“There’s no hunting on West Haven,” Walter said sternly. He winked. “But it’s always open season on illegal parking.” There was a slight swagger to his step as he let himself out of her office.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mystic Bay,
Samantha~
“I have never been more embarrassed in my life. I hardly knew where to look when Margery Starkman and I went into the Bean this morning.” Araminta took a sip of the glass of lemonade Samantha had poured her.
The Bean and Bran was the local coffee shop. In Mystic Bay when a permanent resident said ‘coffee shop’ they always meant the Bean and Bran. It served up the best coffee and pastries on West Haven, and piping hot gossip. And Araminta’s best friend Margery was always poised to add extra fuel to any fire.
“Everyone knew about Carmody’s little escapade,” Mom continued. “And probably that tantrum in Mr. Benoit’s office too. In front of Admiral Lord Daniel Lindorm!”
They were sitting on Samantha’s small patio watching Carmody climb on the plastic gym set that had been her third birthday present.
“I’m sorry, Mom. But it’s still not clear to me what happened at the museum yesterday. There was a big crowd at the Drake. Are you sure you didn’t lose track of Carmody yourself?”
Mom pounced. “Perhaps I did. But it will be the last time. Until Carmody demonstrates that she can follow simple rules, neither your father nor I will be taking her anywhere else.”
Samantha tried and failed to keep tears out of her eyes. “If that’s how you feel, Mom, okay. It’s not good for Carmody or any child to be around people who disapprove of her.”
“It’s time you found yourself a partner,” Araminta continued as if she had not just dynamited the foundations of Samantha’s world.
“A partner?”
“Carmody’s father has been dead, for what, four years? It’s time you moved on. Carmody needs a father figure. Perhaps if she had stability at home, she would be less prone to misbehavior.”
Fated for the Phoenix: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 5) Page 5