No Crones About It

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Hey.” He appeared at the edge of the table and snapped his fingers in my face.

  That was enough to cause me to see red, but before I could act Gunner lost his cool.

  “Don’t touch her,” Gunner warned, slapping Flint’s hand away from my face. “You won’t like what happens if you do that again.”

  Flint snorted. “Oh, aren’t you cute? I didn’t realize things were so serious between you two. Are you declaring her your intended?”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of the question. Now didn’t seem the time to put my ignorance of shifter culture on display, though. I filed my curiosity away to explore at a later date.

  “It has nothing to do with that,” Gunner replied tightly. “I simply prefer a modicum of respect be shown when dealing with ... well ... anyone. If you can’t be courteous, perhaps you should leave.”

  Flint’s gaze was keen. “Are you kicking me out of your town?”

  Gunner shifted on his seat, uncomfortable. “I didn’t say that.”

  I glanced at Drake and found him watching the conversation with obvious fascination. He didn’t insert himself into the competition. He wisely stayed back.

  “Of course you didn’t,” Flint chortled.

  The lines of Gunner’s face deepened. “If you keep this up, I will say it. I don’t care who your father is. He might’ve earned his reputation, but you didn’t. I won’t allow you to harass Scout.”

  Flint’s eyes flooded with fire. “If you want to challenge me, let’s do it. There’s a street right out front that’s begging for a show. I have time right now. It will only take two minutes to kick your ass.”

  “There’s not going to be a challenge,” I argued, using my most commanding tone. “Whatever is happening here is ... unnecessary. There’s no reason to start fighting..”

  “I agree with our pretty friend,” Drake offered, speaking for the first time and offering me a flirty wink. “I think a tempered approach is how we should handle things. There’s no reason to get territorial.”

  Gunner looked as if he was going to argue, but he settled back into his spot and grabbed his glass. “It’s fortuitous you guys arrived when you did,” he said, regrouping. “We were going to track you down later.”

  “You were?” Flint appeared delighted. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from me, Scout. Some things are destined.”

  I wanted to punch him in the center of his ego. “I agree.” I held his gaze, my own steady. “Like, for example, I think your downfall is destined. It’s only a matter of time before you get exactly what’s coming to you.”

  “I have a few things I want to give to you, too,” Flint shot back.

  Gunner moved to stand, but I kicked him under the table, sending a not-so-subtle message. He managed to maintain control of his temper, but just barely. “We want to talk to you about the body found behind the library,” he gritted out. “We don’t want to accuse you or anything ... but given what happened last night.”

  Flint’s expression changed in a split second and he adopted an air of innocence. “And what happened last night?”

  “I’m more interested in the fact that a body was found,” Drake volunteered. “I had no idea anything happened last night. Frankly, I’m shocked.”

  He was a poor liar and his delivery was flat. “You had no idea anyone died?” I challenged, gesturing toward the street in front of the diner. While Fred’s body had been removed more than an hour ago, the police contingency remained to continue their investigation. “That seems rather doubtful.”

  Drake’s smirk was smug. “I’m not saying I didn’t realize there was a police situation. I’m simply saying that I had no idea it was a murder. That’s very ... troubling.”

  “Especially because we’re considering moving here and we want a safe environment,” Flint added. “I hate the idea of relocating into a dangerous area.”

  “Then you should definitely settle someplace else,” Gunner offered. The way he looked at Flint told me he wanted to press the man further. That would be a mistake — a big one — and I sent him a silent message in the hope he would pick up on that fact and back down.

  If we tried to corner Flint and Drake now they would simply dig in their heels. It was obvious they were playing coy — and there’s nothing I loathe more than game players — but we didn’t have enough information or evidence to corner them. We had to play it smart, which was rarely the way I did things, but it was a necessity now. I could only hope Gunner felt the same.

  Finally, as if in slow motion, Gunner wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin and slowly got to his feet. “Well, if you’ll excuse us, we have plans for the rest of our afternoon.” He extended his hand to me.

  I wasn’t the sort who needed a man to maintain my dominance, but that’s not the message Gunner was sending. He was trying to send a different sort of warning, that we were united and would fight together if it came to it. I was eager to send that same message.

  I slipped my hand into his and offered Drake a pointed smile as I stood. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

  “That seems to be the way of things,” he agreed. He’d shuttered whatever emotions he was feeling earlier, including the obvious delight coursing through him when it looked as if Gunner was going to fight. Now he simply looked on with interest. “It’s a small town. There’s nowhere to hide.”

  “You can say that again.” I moved around him, my attention on the exit, and then I slowed my pace when the glass door opened to allow Graham entrance. The expression on his face didn’t reflect happiness. “Do I even want to know why you’re here?” I groused, thoughts of messing with Flint and Drake forgotten.

  “No, but you don’t really have a choice in the matter,” Graham replied. “I don’t either. I want you to know that. This isn’t my decision.”

  Gunner bristled as he stepped in front of me. He must’ve read the situation the same way I did. Things were about to take a turn. “If you think you’re taking her in ... .”

  Graham held up his hand to quiet his son. “I didn’t say I was taking her in. The prosecutor has made an appearance. It seems he doesn’t want to take my word on things. He’s demanding a voluntary blood sample from Scout to rule her out as a suspect. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Gunner balked. “Absolutely not.” He gripped my hand tighter. “She’s getting a lawyer. We’re going to fight this.”

  I appreciated his vehemence, but it wasn’t necessary. I wasn’t guilty, so in my book that meant there was nothing to fear. “It’s fine,” I offered, earning a growl from Gunner, which I ignored. “I can give you a blood sample.”

  Surprise was evident on Graham’s face. “Just like that? I thought you would put up a fight.”

  “I’m not guilty. I should have nothing to worry about, right?”

  He nodded, slowly. “Pretty much.”

  “Scout, this isn’t a good idea,” Gunner persisted. “I just ... you should get a lawyer.”

  Under different circumstances I might’ve agreed. But I trusted Graham. It wasn’t just because he was Gunner’s father. He was a good man. I could sense that.

  “It will be fine,” I reassured him. “I’m innocent. There’s nothing to fear.”

  “I’ll arrange for an appointment at the county lab,” Graham offered.

  “I’m looking forward to it.” That was a gross exaggeration, but I wanted to save face in front of the two wolves watching from behind us. I could feel their amusement.

  This so wasn’t good.

  Eight

  “Don’t look at my butt.”

  I was going for levity as I leaned over the examination table, one of the state’s finest phlebotomists jabbing a needle into my posterior, Gunner and Graham standing behind me. I would’ve preferred being alone, but Graham insisted that it was best he watch the blood draw given my powers of persuasion – something the technician knew nothing about – and that meant Gunner was sticking to his father’s side. I had sm
all veins in my arms, something that had been troublesome over the years when I was treated for a variety of ailments, so I figured it was easier to allow the bloodsucker to draw from my hip.

  That meant dropping my pants, something that perked Gunner right up. His smile was mischievous as he held my gaze.

  “I’ll try to refrain,” he said after a beat. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for when I finally got to see you with your clothes off.”

  Graham cleared his throat. That gave me an excuse to drop my eyes, my cheeks blazing.

  “I don’t think now is the time to try to charm her, son,” Graham drawled.

  Gunner seemingly remembered we weren’t alone – and that he wanted to throttle his father – so he shot a dark glare toward that corner of the room. “Shush.”

  Instead of being offended, or picking a fight, Graham merely chuckled. “Your mother used to say that.”

  Even I knew that was the wrong thing to say. Gunner’s mother was a sore spot. She was still alive – although I wasn’t sure the sanitarium where she resided sounded like a comfortable place to visit let alone live in – but he hadn’t seen her since he was a teenager. Given the fact that she got loaded and tried to kill him in a fire, I couldn’t blame him.

  “Just stop talking,” Gunner ordered.

  “I agree.” I pinned Graham with a pointed look. He obviously didn’t understand how to read his son’s moods. Gunner was angry. “Let’s talk about something else. What does everyone think of the Child’s Play remake? I think it’s a mistake to cut out Brad Dourif, but obviously they didn’t consult me. I mean … I love Mark Hamill as much as the next person, but Brad Dourif is Chucky.”

  Slowly, deliberately, Gunner tracked his eyes to me. “Are you talking about the movie with the murderous doll?”

  I nodded, doing my best not to cringe when I felt the needle slide in. I wasn’t a baby by any stretch of the imagination, but I didn’t like needles. They reminded me of the hours after I was discovered at the fire station, when I was stuck with at least ten of them as they drew blood for DNA comparisons and to make sure I was immunized against every microbe out there. Somehow – and I still wasn’t sure how – they seemed to realize I’d never seen the inside of a doctor’s office before they got their hands on me. It was traumatizing.

  “You like murderous dolls?” Gunner strolled closer, never moving his gaze from my face. He hunkered down so we were eye to eye. “I wouldn’t think you’d like horror movies.”

  I recognized what he was doing. He was trying to take my mind off the needle. He had a giving heart, even if at times he suffered from terminal testosterone.

  I sighed and nodded. “I like watching movies about dolls, even bad ones. I knew this girl in foster care – we were only together for a few months – she was terrified of dolls. She refused to let any in our room. I was fine with that because I didn’t like them either.”

  A hint of sadness permeated his chiseled features. “Did you keep in touch with her?”

  I shook my head. “We got separated at some point. It’s too bad. I really liked her. She was … different … too.”

  He understood without me having to expound. “Do you know what happened to her?”

  “Not really.” I shrugged as if it didn’t bother me, but I’d thought about her more than once over the years. In a weird way, she was the closest thing I ever had to a sister. We both possessed magic, but we were careful not to talk about it, and for a brief time we talked about running away together. The home we shared wasn’t so bad. I ended up staying six months after she was transferred out.

  “I heard through the grapevine that she ran away and was living on the streets,” I continued. “I don’t know if it’s true because later I heard a ridiculous story from another girl who said that she’d joined the circus. You know how that goes.”

  He laughed and gently brushed my hair from my face. It was as if we were the only two people in the room, which would’ve been nice given the circumstances. “I don’t know. I don’t think joining the circus is so farfetched. I thought about doing it when I was a kid.”

  “The circus wouldn’t have you,” Graham shot back.

  Gunner narrowed his eyes but remained focused on me. “What do you want to do after this?”

  The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. It’s going to be hard to top this as a bonding exercise.”

  “Yeah. We could go for a picnic.”

  Graham shifted from one foot to the other and muttered something under his breath. It sounded a lot like “give me a break,” but I couldn’t be sure.

  “That sounds nice, but I think I need some time to myself.” I straightened when the technician announced he had what he needed and quickly pulled up my pants. “Nothing personal, but … it’s been a long morning.”

  Gunner didn’t look happy with my response. “Are you going to head back to the cabin and blame yourself for what happened to Fred?”

  I shook my head. “No. Why would you think that?”

  “Because I can tell you’re upset.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Fair enough.” He grunted as he straightened and eyed his father. “You and I are going to have a discussion about what went down here. Just so you know.”

  Graham rolled his eyes. “That’s fine. I’m doing my job. I don’t regret it.”

  “You might when I’m done with you.”

  I FOUND MYSELF LOOKING OVER my shoulder to make sure Gunner wasn’t following me as I left the lab. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. In truth, in a short amount of time I’d learned to trust him a great deal. I still wasn’t sure how it happened because I was careful when extending my heart, but he was already worming his way in.

  I found it disconcerting. Er, well, that is when I wasn’t reacting like a typical girl and batting my eyelashes like a moron. Seriously, how did that even happen?

  I didn’t go home. Gunner assumed I was returning to the cabin to lick my wounds and regroup. If he’d realized what I really intended there’s no way he would’ve let me go alone. Even though I wouldn’t have minded the company, I needed time to sort through the busy threads tangling inside my brain.

  The wolves were easy to target as suspects. They’d appeared out of nowhere, seemingly developed an interest in me and then acted like smug slimeballs when accused of having had a hand in what had happened to Fred. That wasn’t exactly a defining clue, of course. There were still questions. The biggest for me was how Fred played into this. Was it possible Flint paid him to steal from me? I couldn’t rule it out. If I believed the shifters had a hand in Fred’s death – and, really, what else could I believe? – it was likely they needed help to track him down. Gunner lost him in the woods, after all. Of course, Gunner willingly abandoned the chase because he wanted to get back to me. That was the distinction. Could Fred have outrun Gunner over the long haul? I had my doubts.

  I needed information, a direction to point myself in. It made sense for the shifters to be involved. In fact, they were at the top of my suspect list. Which one, though? Could it be all of them? It was possible, but Cyrus only showed a passing interest in me. Flint was another story. He was full of posturing and braggadocio, but I wasn’t sure he had it in him to torture Fred … at least with his own bare hands. He was bloodthirsty enough, liked the idea of being in charge and others being afraid of him, but I could sense fear beneath his tough exterior.

  Drake was another story. He was clearly subservient when it came to Cyrus and Flint. He followed orders, was probably paid handsomely, and perhaps was rewarded for loyalty. He felt smarter than the other two, though. I sensed a keen mind in his head … and he was capable of shuttering. Flint’s mind wasn’t an open book – and I wasn’t always good at reading new people because it was a gift I never spent much time honing – but his surface thoughts were readable. Drake, on the other hand, was an enigma.

  That made him all the more dangerous.

  Sure, it was possible he was a goo
d guy following a paycheck, but I didn’t trust him. It was obvious Gunner didn’t either. Gunner had strong instincts, so I tended to believe almost everything he inferred about a particular situation … unless I had reason to believe otherwise, which I didn’t in this case.

  The only thing I could think to do was go back to the scene of the crime. Not where the body was discovered, but where I had my first (and ultimately last) glimpse of Fred. The beach by the restaurant. It only made sense to start there.

  I parked my bike at the restaurant. I left my helmet on the seat and cut through the end of the lot. I wasn’t even aware there was a walking path on the other side of the wall until Gunner led me through it the previous evening. At the time, I remembered wondering how many women he’d taken for walks on the beach. I forced the notion out of my head. What did it matter? We were trying to look forward. It’s not as if I was under the misconception that he’d been a monk until meeting me.

  Thinking about the date caused me to blush, which was absolutely ridiculous. We had fun – until Fred showed up to take twenty bucks and then bolted, leaving us with two unwanted visitors and an abrupt ending to our date – and I was eager to have another go at it. That wouldn’t be possible until we fixed this mess, and that likely wouldn’t be easy.

  I exhaled heavily and headed to the beach. It wasn’t difficult to find the spot where we’d discarded our shoes and coats the previous evening, and once there I took a moment to study the footprints.

  I was hardly an expert tracker … especially when it came to the wilderness. Still, it wasn’t difficult to pick out several different tracks. I recognized my boots first. Even though I have big feet for a woman, the tracks were much smaller than the other four sets. Gunner’s tracks were next. His boot prints were always directly next to mine, so his were easy to decipher. Fred’s prints ran toward the woods, which made them easy to follow … and that’s exactly what I did.

  I trailed my fingers out, whispering a spell as I walked. The sun felt nice on my face, but I couldn’t enjoy the weather. There were more important things to dwell on, like Fred … and whatever happened to him. He may have been a thief, but nobody deserved that. If he was killed as a message to me – which Graham and Gunner both believed, even though they expressed that belief in different ways – I would always be haunted.