She Wolf and The Detective: (Suspense, Crime, Thriller, Mystery, Fantasy) (Book 1-3)

by Michael Reyes

  Hunter was a simple man by human standards, but as a wolf, he was complicated and hard to deal with. He was positive that very thought was running through many heads as his entire pack sat in a semicircle around him.

  Hunter lowered his head to one hand and sat on his “throne” chair looking down at all eight of them. He hated the chair. It was beautiful; dark stained wood with a hunter green cushion, but it carried an air of pretense that he despised. Why did he need a chair for their meetings? He could sit on the ground or the floor just as well as they could! No, they insisted on pack meetings happening at his house, and the chair, the damned chair, was toted wherever he decided the meeting would take place. He once had requested they meet deep in the woods, at the back of his property, and sure enough they had lugged the stupid throne to the base of the mountains.

  Hunter’s dark eyes looked at them lazily. “What do you want me to say?”

  Oscar spoke up first. As second in command, he almost always spoke up first.

  “You need a mate, Hunter.”

  Of course it’s this again. “No, I really don’t.”

  Oscar looked around the semicircle, a faint nod affirming what they wanted him to say.

  “Look, there are only two couples here. They rest of us haven’t found anyone…we need another blood line. We need the Alpha bloodline.”

  Hunter raised his head, his eyes dancing in an amused manner. “What are you going to do? Pray for girls to be born, and wait for them to come of age?”

  “If we have to.”

  Hunter threw his head back and laughed heartily. “You’re no better than a bunch of pedophiles!”

  Oscar puffed his chest out. The rest of the pack squirmed uneasily.

  “We aren’t! You know our kind lives a long time!”

  Hunter waved his indignation off. “Yes, as you keep reminding me.”

  “We want you to go to another pack and look for someone.”

  “It’s just going to be that easy, huh?”

  “Maybe.”

  Hunter leaned forward with one elbow on a knee. “Why don’t you lusty wolves go to another pack?” The softness of his words should have been interpreted as a threat to the pack, but Oscar pushed on.

  “You know other packs are only willing to intermarry if it’s Alpha blood.”

  Hunter leaned back in his chair. He was tired. He was tired of this being an issue. He liked his life! He liked living alone! His pack was around, but they weren’t in his house trying to feminize it!

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Oscar’s face split into a grin. “That’s good news!” He looked around at the others. “We were thinking you should go into the valley area, or maybe even go to one of the smaller cities.”

  “You do, huh?” Hunter said dryly.

  “Yes. A bloodline that’s not local. A fresh line.”

  Hunter felt heat rising past his collar. He flicked his fingertips at the group. “Get out of here. Go find something productive to do, besides running my life.”

  Most of the pack stood immediately, and began making their way to other parts of the property. Every pack member lived within a ten mile radius of Hunter, in case of emergency. Oscar lived in a cabin on the property.

  Hunter gave Oscar a level look as the rest of the pack vanished. He addressed him with a sigh. “What is it?”

  Oscar gestured towards the chair. “I just wanted to take that back inside.”

  Hunter stood with a frown. Damn chair!

  Hunter looked over the cow field with dismay. It was August 12th. He needed to be here for the fall harvest, and to ensure that the cows were properly wintered. Some in the pack had jobs…sort of. Jameson and Olivia were one of the two married couples and they owned a bakery in the valley. He only saw them in case of an emergency, or in case of a called meeting. Franklin and Megan ran some kind of Internet Company, how they got such good signal in the back woods they all lived in, he really didn’t know, but he suspected some king of hacking.

  Then there were the singles. Aaron, Ryder, and Bradley were the youngest, and they simply helped Hunter on the property. Oscar was a different story. He was a man with many talents. Animal husbandry, carpentry, and electrical wiring. He picked up odd jobs like a magnet. The strangest thing was that Oscar was the oldest. At thirty-five, Hunter understood his obsession with a mate. Thirty five was young by Werewolf standards, but the biological clock doesn’t always understand such things. Hunter was thirty himself and could care less what was ticking in his body!

  The only stipulation Hunter had for the pack was that everyone contribute something to the pack’s well-being. He didn’t care if it was monetary, canned vegetables, or a knitted sweater. The married couples tended to just give a bi-annual monetary gift.

  Hunter had for all intents and purposes a small farm. He grew many vegetables during the summer months, and slaughtered at least two cows every fall. With those things and his avid love of the hunt during winter, the pack never worried where their next meal was coming from.

  He came down from the hillside and sought out Oscar. He found him planing wood on saw horses, obviously building yet another item.

  “If I don’t return by the time fall is over, you will need to slaughter two of the cows.” He said this casually as he walked by. “And don’t forget to get the smoke houses ready in time.”

  Oscar watched as his leader mounted the wooden steps of his home and grinned from under hooded eyes. It’s about time!

  “Do you have your cell phone?” Oscar asked as Hunter shoved a duffle bag into the crew cab part of his pickup.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have cash money?”

  Hunter stared straight ahead, his eyes purposefully vacant. “Yes, mother dear, I have everything I need.”

  Oscar shook his head and playfully punched Hunter in the arm.

  “Just call me when you can.”

  “Right.” Hunter climbed into the cab of the truck. He turned the key and the truck rumbled to life. He looked at Oscar and rolled the window down. “You’re in charge. Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t.” Oscar promised soberly. “You don’t let us down.”

  Blain shook his head and drove away, a long arm thrown out of the window.

  Hunter had no real idea where he was going. He drove out of the mountains, through Madison and Orange, and finally set his truck onto Rt. 20. He figured Fredericksburg would be as good a place as any to start. Plus it was already late in the day, and he didn’t want to be on the road too long after dark.

  He arrived in Fredericksburg at twilight, driving past the monumental amount of commercial shopping offered, while cursing the heavy traffic. He glanced at the slow stream of cars heading out of the city and thanked his good fortune he wasn’t going in that direction. He gripped the steering wheel tightly at the next traffic light. He didn’t feel like this was going to be the place. He cruised through the next two lights and was about to roll past the southbound exit ramp for I95, but swung the truck hard to the right in a moment’s snap decision, earning him several angry horns blows behind him. He threw up a hand to offer his apology, gunning the engine to accelerate onto the busy interstate. He would be on the road an extra hour and a half, but his instincts were pulling him to Williamsburg.

  Hunter pulled into the parking lot of a Days Inn off of Richmond road, and tried to contain the ravenous hunger that was threatening to gnaw his insides out. He wanted his room first, and a shower before going to eat. Williamsburg was in the height of its tourist season. He doubted he would have much trouble finding a place open.

  Thirty minutes late, he was showered, and felt his spirits lift as he climbed back into the truck and began hunting for a place to eat. He didn’t want something typical like Ruby Tuesday’s or Outback. He wanted something quaint and small, preferably with a bar.

  He drove north on the road until he came to a small building with brown exterior, and a large bear on the outside. The neon sign read Papa’s, and judging
from the half full parking lot, he had found just the spot.

  No one met him at the door to offer him a table, which was fine with Hunter. He just wanted to blend in. Several tables were scattered over the hard wood floor, and the distinctive crack of pool balls wafted from somewhere in the back. He took a seat at the end of the bar where it turned forming an L shape. With a sweep of the eye he could see most of the restaurant.

  A bearded man that looked like he might have fought in the civil war, came to the end of the bar, nodding his greeting to Hunter.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Bottle of Heineken. Is the grill still open?”

  “Will be for another hour.” The man reached under the bar and pulled out a menu.

  Hunter scanned it quickly, the fare typical of this type of establishment. There were lots of fried things to choose from, and an array of burgers and sandwiches.

  “Where you from?”

  “Near the West Virginia border.”

  “Which grand attraction are you here for?”

  Hunter looked at him and smiled. “Not sure yet.”

  The bartender rubbed his hairy jaw and nodded.

  “I’ll take your Harley burger and fries.”

  “Good choice. I came up with that one myself.” The man walked away, leaving Hunter to sip his beer, and watch the restaurant. The bar was only half full, but that was still impressive considering that it was after ten on a Wednesday night.

  A waitress with dark hair meandered her way around the tables, her serving tray hugged tightly to her as she flirted with various men.

  Hunter watched the bartender place his hands in front of him on the back of the bar and leaned stiff armed as he watched the young woman’s progression.

  “Karlee!” He bellowed, eyes steely and mean.

  Hunter watched as Karlee rolled her eyes and let the tray drop beside her with one hand. She walked to the bar and hissed a reply.

  “What?”

  “Just what in the hell are you doing?”

  “All my tables are taken care of, Dad!”

  “I’m not talking about that!” He leaned in closer. “Leave the men alone!”

  The girl sashayed away, heading for the back room where the pool tables were. Hunter looked at the older man as he shook his head, an angry yet sad look on his face. The older man made his way back to Hunter.

  “Can you believe that crap?”

  Hunter shook his head, pretending he didn’t know what the man was talking about.

  “My daughter! She’s a harlot! Thank God, my other one seems to be doing alright.”

  “Does she work here too?”

  “Yeah, she’s probably making your burger right now.” He gave Hunter a hard look. “I should have let her wait tables tonight!” Another man straddled a stool at the bar. “Oh this night is just getting better and better.”

  Hunter sipped his beer as the older man approached the younger one; a sandy haired youth who looked barely old enough to drink. The bartender, which Hunter now suspected as the owner, gave the new arrival the same stare and body language that he had just given his daughter.

  “What do you want?”

  The boy shrugged and grinned. “A beer.”

  “Your usual?”

  “You know it.”

  The older man opened a Budweiser and set it before the man. Wisps of foam materialized for a split second above the lip of the bottle, before dissipating like smoke.

  “Karlee working?”

  “She is.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  The owner shrugged as if it didn’t matter at all to him, but Hunter noticed his eyes shifted to the young man, and took on an even harder look.

  “Free country.”

  The boy slid off of the stool and began prowling the restaurant in search of Karlee. Hunter was about to ask for another beer when a blonde haired woman who looked to be about twenty five came out of the swinging kitchen doors just beyond the other end of the bar, and headed towards Hunter with his burger and fries. She slid the plate in front of him unceremoniously and handed him a rolled set of silverware.

  Hunter thanked her, looking into her blue eyes, and watched with disappointment as she simply nodded and walked away. The owner grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her two feet backward, closer to Hunter. He tried to look busy shaking ketchup over his fries and mustard over his burger as he listened to the hissing conversation between the two.

  “Carl’s here.”

  “So?”

  “So, go keep an eye on your sister!”

  “Look, Tommy, she’s your problem when she’s here.” The woman accentuated the word your by pointing a small finger at the man’s chest. She crossed her arms over her black t-shirt. “I can’t watch her and the kitchen!”

  Hunter took a moment to admire the woman as she and “Tommy” had a stare off. He liked the way her petite form fit in her black jeans, and he equally liked that her feet clad were in combat boots. She was tough, but her curves and nice round butt ensured that she was all girl.

  Tommy lifted his arm in a dismissive gesture. The girl breezed back into the kitchen, but Hunter hoped she would come back out soon.

  I’m supposed to be looking for a mate, not sitting in a bar ogling humans! Hunter dismissed his thoughts. After all he didn’t expect to find his mate overnight, and he hadn’t even contacted a pack in the area yet. Why not enjoy the show while he was there?

  Tommy wandered his way with a wet pilsner glass in one hand and a white rag in the other. He began drying the glass furiously.

  “Do you have children?”

  Hunter shook his head.

  “Good! Don’t have any! Especially not girls!”

  “I’m surprised that their sisters. They look nothing alike, and she called you Tommy.”

  The man nodded, setting the now dry glass on a shelf behind his head. “Yeah, I get that a lot. They’re actually half-sisters. She calls me Tommy when she’s mad.”

  Hunter nodded his understanding, shoving several fries into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, scanning the bar again. His eyes rested on a man that had come in alone. He sat in a casual manner beating one thumb lightly on the wooden table. He met Hunter’s gaze. His thumb stopped for a split second, before the tapping began again, and his eyes moved away.

  “I think that guy wants to order.” Hunter said, indicating who he was talking about with a tilt of his head.

  Tommy looked out over the bar. His frown quick and deep.

  “I wish I knew what this guy wanted.”

  “What do you mean?” Hunter asked around a mouthful of burger.

  “He’s been in here for three nights. He only orders one beer, nothing else and leaves just before closing.”

  Hunter shrugged. It didn’t seem odd to him.

  Tommy walked to the other end of the bar and out onto the floor, making a beeline for the dark haired man. They only spoke a few words before Tommy returned and pulled a beer from the tap, and took it out to him. The man’s eyes shifted to Karlee as she made her way from the back room and into the kitchen. She hurried back out only to return to the pool room as quick as she could. Five minutes later the blonde woman emerged with a plate of steaming fries, and headed to the pool room herself. Hunter looked at the man again, and noticed a subtle change to his body. He sat a little straighter, keeping his eyes on her. He didn’t shift his gaze from the entrance to the pool room until she reemerged, and he watched her until she vanished into the kitchen again.

  Hunter popped the last of his fries into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. He glanced at the man several more times. No one else seemed to notice, but he had. The air in the room had changed. It no longer felt relaxed, there was a tension emanating outward from the man, and Hunter didn’t like it.

  “Can I get you another beer?”

  “Sure, why not?” Hunter smiled. His decision to stay until closing already made.

  Closing came and Hunter paid his tab, promising Tommy he would c
ome back the next night if he could. He had enjoyed talking to the older man while casually watching the loner at the table.

  The night air was humid, but a light breeze made it pleasant. He moved his pickup to an empty parking lot across the street, which gave him a good vantage point of the front of the bar.

  Thirty minutes later the front door opened and Tommy walked out with his two daughters, and a Hispanic man he hadn’t seen before. He assumed he was the cook, judging from the dirty apron he had slung over one shoulder. Karlee and Tommy climbed into a silver car, waving to the blonde and the cook as they drove away. The cook began walking down the street at a leisurely pace, while the blonde stood against the front of the building. She turned her slender wrist up and looked at her watch.

  Hunter sat up straighter in his seat as a shadow passed in the alleyway on the opposite side of the building. The blonde woman didn’t show any indication that she had seen or heard anything. A moment later, the man who had sat by himself emerged from the alley and walked up to her. Hunter could see her hesitation as the man began talking to her. She shook her head once, her eyes moving from one end of the street to the other. It only took a split second. The man had his large hand over her mouth, and had her off of the ground in a type of bear hug. He pulled her into the dark alley, as the woman kicked at him with the heels of her feet.

  Hunter was out of the truck in lightning speed. He ran across the street only looking both ways in a cursory manner. When he reached the mouth of the alley, he could already feel his body demanding the shift. Adrenaline was the hardest to control. All of his hairs began to burn and tingle as he caught sight of the man push the woman hard against the brick wall of the adjacent building. The smell of trash and fear filled Hunter’s nose as the man pushed her to the ground behind the dumpster. The woman’s screams were all it took for his body to take over.

  Hunter jumped onto the dumpster just as his body began to change. The severity of the situation made it quick, and he was shrugging out of the shredded clothing, roaring down at the two of them in less than ten seconds.

  The man’s hands froze from where he had been pushing against the woman’s esophagus with a hand holding a knife, while the other hand was fumbling to get her pants pulled down over her hips. The man’s eyes were huge with terror as he looked over his shoulder at Hunter.