Kissing the Werewolf - An Izzy Cooper Novel (4 page)

The Gypsies mostly kept to themselves, but they did have run-ins with the townspeople every now and again.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, though I already had a pretty good idea what he was going to say, and I was dreading it.

“Pack war. We have two packs on this island, and it has always been an uncomfortable truce. Maybe the Gypsy pack has decided to declare war,” he suggested.

That’s exactly what I was afraid he would say. “But why after a hundred years would they all the sudden decide they want control of the entire island?”

“They have a new alpha,” he sighed and got to his feet. “I think we need to pay a visit to Elias Moreland.”

I couldn’t breathe.

There was a lump in my throat the size of a baseball, and it was doing a damn good job of choking me to death.

“Not a good idea,” I croaked, when I could finally draw in enough air to utter anything but gurgling sounds.

Arching his brow, he asked, “Why not?”

I was drawing a blank. Not a single excuse would present itself, so I groped for the first thing that came to mind.

“I have a nail appointment this afternoon.”

He wasn’t buying it.

“Talk to me Izzy. Why don’t you want to question Elias?”

It was time to fess up. After all, Ayden was my boss and could fire me if he wanted. I figured it probably wasn’t a good idea to lie to him.

“Well I kind of had a thing for him back in high school,” I confessed.

There wasn’t so much as a hint of a smile on his face, but his blue eyes were dancing with laughter. “Do you still have a thing for him?”

I was mortified. “Of course not!”

It was a total lie, but a girl has her limits, even with her boss.

“Then let’s go.”

I should have told Ayden about seeing Elias at the Bayside Grill, and how strange he’d been acting, but that would have only added to the problem.

Of course I would have to mention it sooner or later, but not just yet. I would let the team in on that information once there was good reason to believe Elias was the perpetrator. As it was, I was fairly sure Ayden was jumping to conclusions.

It was only a short distance from the lighthouse to Roseland, but that was if you took the trail through the woods. If you drove, which is what we were doing, the only way to get there was by way of the Island Loop Highway. This was the little two-lane road that followed the coastline all the way around the island.

Why they’d taken to calling it a highway, I had no clue.

The entire island was beautiful, but I was especially fond of the area around Roseland. With its windswept pines, and sheer cliffs dropping right into the sea, the Roseland side of Mystique Island was like a masterpiece of natural beauty. I was especially fond of the wild roses that grew everywhere, which of course was how the settlement got its name.

During my high school days, I’d spent nearly as much time creeping around Roseland, as I’d spent in Storm Cove. Always it was with the hope of running into Elias.

I was fifteen the first time I saw him.

Elias and his father had come into Storm Cove to fuel up their old Ford truck at Al’s Quick Stop, the island’s only gas station at the time.
These days there were a couple more, but back then the Quick Stop was the place to get your fuel, plus it doubled as a convenience store.

Al’s Quick Stop is located just off the loop road, on Pacific Avenue, which also happened to be the road I took to get to Pine Bluff. That’s where Granny Stella lives.

On days when I had a little extra money, I would stop in and buy a soda on my way home.

On this particular Friday, I planned to pick up a soda, as well as a bag of corn chips and dill pickle dip. Annabelle was going to stay with Aunt Mandy all weekend, while Granny was taking care of some business on the mainland.

I’d be alone, and I had it all planned out. I was going to veg out in front of the TV all weekend, and eat corn chips.

All that changed when I saw Elias Moreland’s hard - naked chest. In fact, my entire outlook on life changed in that moment.

When I walked by them, Mister Moreland was pumping fuel, while Elias was cleaning the windshield.

I wasn’t exactly the coolest kid at Storm Cove High, and it showed when I stopped in my tracks to stare at a shirtless Elias. He had strange tattoos on his chest and back, as well as on his arms.

But it wasn’t just his body that drew my attention. I was completely entranced by his perfect face, and the way his dark curls brushed up against his wide shoulders as he moved.

He was awesome. Totally blowing away any of the guys I went to school with.

Just as I was ready to force my eyes away, he glanced up and saw me.

My face grew hot with embarrassment, but in that split second before I looked away, I saw the amusement in his eyes. He was completely aware that I’d been watching him.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, I finally made it inside and got my drink. By the time I left, Elias was gone.

After asking a few of my classmates some discreet questions, I learned that his name was Elias Moreland, and he lived in Roseland. He didn’t attend public school, which explained why I hadn’t seen him before.

The Roseland people were home schooled. Apparently those Gypsies didn’t much like associating with the townspeople, and the feeling was mutual.

I wasn’t about to let that stop me.

Every chance I got; I wandered over to Roseland, though I wasn’t quite brave enough to actually go into their settlement. Instead, I hung around the trails, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

I was pulled from that distant memory when I felt the SUV slowing. We were approaching Roseland.

At least there was something to distract me. I didn’t want to think about that kiss. As long as I didn’t think about it, maybe I could keep that strange flutter out of my chest.

Not much had changed since my last visit to Roseland, which had been just before high school graduation. I left for college that fall.

Time and distance has a way of blurring the past. As the years went by, I’d thought about Elias less, but now that I’d seen him again, the memory was more vivid than it had been in a long time.

I wasn’t sure I liked it.

Roseland was one of those little towns that you would miss if you blinked.

It had grown some, but not much. There was now a service station, and a little grocery store. There was even a small school, and a park, but not much else.

The majority of Roseland’s residents worked, and did most of their business on the mainland, which was another reason the town was slow to grow.

The people of Storm Cove had always been reclusive, preferring to keep their business on the island, when possible.

After all, they had secrets.

With so many of the homes in Roseland being those small, ranch style houses, it reminded me more of a subdivision than a town.

Elias’s house was different.

The Moreland’s massive log cabin was set apart from the rest of the town.

I’d always admired its rustic beauty, but mostly what I liked was the view. The Moreland house was located at the edge of a bluff, which gave them a magnificent view of the sea.

Not that I’d ever been a guest at the Moreland’s, but in my Elias stalking days, I’d often walked by their house, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

When Ayden pulled into the winding, tree-lined driveway, I was so nervous I could barely breathe.

I had to keep reminding myself that I had nothing to fear. I mean seriously, I was a fallen angel. The worst that could happen was he wouldn’t remember that kiss, or me. It wasn’t as if I were there to remind him of it anyway.

We were paying a visit to Elias Moreland to question him. That’s it and that’s all.

“Do you want the honor?” Ayden smiled.

A frown twisted at my mouth. “I’ll pass. I can’t even understand why you think he’s a suspect.
Just because he’s a werewolf, doesn’t make him a killer,” I argued. “Besides, it isn’t like there aren’t others in town who are rumored to be a bit on the wild side, and there’s always the possibility that this might be just a regular old fashioned murder.”

Ayden shook his head. “Highly unlikely. It’s very rare for one of them to kill a member of their own pack.”

Getting out of the SUV, I followed Ayden to the front door. Before knocking, he unclipped the pistol holstered at his hip, so he could easily grab it if need be.

“Will that really do any good?” I whispered. “Don’t you need silver bullets, or some crap like that?”

“No,” Ayden mouthed before knocking again.

Two or three minutes went by with no response. The boss man was just raising his hand to knock again when the door swung open.

There should have been shock in Elias’s eyes, but there wasn’t. It was almost as if he’d been expecting us.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice guarded.

Being this close to him was definitely getting too near to the fire. I could feel myself melting from the inside out.

Ayden pulled out his credentials, which was the signal for me to do the same. “I’m Special Agent Fontaine, and this is Special Agent Cooper. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Although Ayden was doing all the talking, Elias’s eyes were on me.

Again I saw that spark of recognition, and something else. Amusement or distain, I couldn’t decide which.

Shrugging his wide shoulders, Elias finally turned his attention to Ayden, and his full lips spread into a hard smile. “It’s not like I have anything more important to do, so why not?”

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Ayden. My boss’s demure quickly changed from casually polite, to hard-ass cop.

“
Where were you between the hours of midnight and 6:00 this morning?”

“I was here,” he answered, giving Ayden a sour look. “Where else would I be in the middle of the night?”

“Do you have anyone who can verify that?”

Elias shook his head. “I live alone?”

“What happened to your family?” I asked. It was a valid question, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back.

Suddenly a curtain of darkness settled over Elias’s features. “Are the people of Storm Cove really that out of touch with this side of the island?”

I had no idea what to say, mostly because I also had no idea what he was talking about.

“My parents and younger sister died during the H1N1 epidemic,” he informed us.

It finally dawned on me why Ayden had called Elias the new alpha.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, my professionalism going right out the door.

“Our condolences,” Ayden put in, dropping his hard ass-cop façade a little.

I wasn’t sure what to say. Although I’d heard the Swine Flu hit Roseland pretty hard, and that it had filled up their cemetery fast, I’d never really connected it with Elias.

That was a little strange. For the six years I’d been gone from Mystique Island, it was like a cloud descended on my memory. There were memories of my life before leaving the island, but some of those memories were misty and hard to grasp.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

Nodding, Elias maneuvered the conversation back to the reason we were there. “Like I said … I was here last night.”

“Do you know the Simmons family?” Ayden continued with his questions.

“I know of them, but I don’t know them.”

Ayden looked down at his notebook and jotted something down. “So you are not acquainted with Dale Simmons?”

Elias shook his head. “Nope. Like I said, I’ve heard of him … but never had any desire, or reason to get to know him.”

“Okay,” Ayden sighed. “We’ll probably be back in touch.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Elias’s eyes fell on me.

My heart jumped into my throat.

Elias was still the sexiest guy I’d ever met, and he remembered. I no longer had any doubt.

“Now what?” I asked Ayden as he was pulling away from the Moreland house.

“First we check out his story. I don’t think he’s telling us everything.”

As much as I wanted to stick up for Elias, I had to agree. He did seem to be hiding something. It wasn’t real obvious unless you happened to notice the huge chip he was carrying on his shoulder. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the FBI, and there had to be a reason.

No sooner were we back on the Island Loop Highway, and the call came in. Another body, this time at the Sandbar.

The Sandbar was the seaside pub located about a mile north of Storm Cove. It was a quaint little place, and very popular with the locals. The building itself was actually an old commercial fishing vessel that had been set close to the road, and then converted into a bar.

I could still remember the day Annabelle told us she was planning to buy the place, which had originally been used by an old captain as his crashing pad.

The family, including myself, quickly labeled my sister as crazy.

Rolling her eyes in her common, screw you fashion, Annabelle set about fixing the place up. It had taken her nearly a year, but she’d finally managed to get the Sandbar up and running. She filled it will maritime antiques and themed furniture, as well as enough alcohol to float a ship.

That was three years ago. Today the Sandbar was as much a part of the island as the Shipwreck Point Lighthouse.

We’d all eaten our words, but we were glad for Annabelle’s success.

Emergency vehicles crowded the small gravel parking lot, which meant we weren’t going to get a parking spot anywhere near the entrance.

Apparently giving the FBI easy access wasn’t high on old Jeb’s priority list. Not a big surprise, considering the prevailing attitude toward outsiders, and that definitely included the FBI.

At least this time I’d be walking through gravel instead of mud.

By the looks of things, the crime scene was in back of the Sandbar. That’s where all the action seemed to be anyway.

Jeb stood guard near the large green dumpster, which was located about twenty feet from the rear of the Sandbar.

“What do you have?” Ayden asked.

Jeb glanced down at the notepad he was holding in his hand, as if he wouldn’t remember every detail without doing so, which was silly. I had no doubt that old Jeb already had every element of the scene memorized. This was probably the most excitement he’d had in his entire career.

“Annabelle Cooper came out here to dump a bag of trash and saw, what appeared to be something wrapped in a blanket. When she opened the blanket, she discovered a body,” Jeb paused, as if Ayden would need the extra time to absorb it all.

Lowering his eyes to his notebook, he continued. “The victim is a blond, Caucasian female, and appears to be in her early twenties.”

I wondered how shook up my sister was.

Annabelle was tough as nails, and certainly not the type to take life too seriously. But still, finding a body could shake up just about anyone.

“Has the victim been identified?” Ayden asked, as he was peering over the rim of the dumpster?”

“Not officially, but it looks to be Gwen Jenkins.”

The identity of the victim wasn’t all that surprising, considering Gwen’s lifestyle. It was common knowledge Gwen supported her drug habit through prostitution.

Once the CSI team was finished taking photos, Ayden slipped on a pair of latex gloves so he could examine the victim more closely.

“There’s bruising on her neck and arms, but no ligature marks,” Ayden remarked. “The subject probably strangled her with his hands.”

“So this is a different MO than Dale Simmons?” I was a little confused.

Ayden nodded. “At first glance this murder appears to be completely unrelated to the Simmons case, but I doubt it.”

“I’ll go interview Annabelle,” I offered.

Interviewing one’s own sister might not be exactly by the book, but I figured I’d have better luck than Ayden.

My sister had a habit of playing games with anyone who represented authority. This was on account of her not being real fond of those types of people, especially cops. She’d be less likely to take up an attitude with me. Like Jeb, she didn’t really take my position in the FBI all that seriously.

The Sandbar was unusually quiet for this late in the day. On a normal afternoon, the place would already be filling up as the locals stopped by for a quick beer on their way home from work.

Not today.

Annabelle was behind the bar stacking beer mugs.

Out of the two of us, Annabelle was definitely the one who got all the looks. She was tall, and had the curves of a supermodel. If that weren’t enough, she’d inherited our mother’s coloring and sea green eyes, complimented by her long auburn hair.

My hair was so dark that it was almost black, and my hazel eyes were nowhere near as stunning as my sister’s.

We dressed nothing alike. I was a tomboy, while on the other hand, Annabelle seemed to derive some kind of pleasure out of her daring, almost scandalous clothing.

My sister looked up from the mug she was drying. “So they decided to call in the big guns?”

“I’m sorry this happened, especially here.”

Annabelle shrugged. “We all know about Gwen. I guess she screwed up this time.”

“Do you remember seeing her in here last night?” I asked.

Annabelle nodded. “Sure … Gwen is here most nights. This is where she picks up a lot of her customers.”

I took out my little digital recorder, which is how I kept a record of my interviews. “Did you see who she left with?”

Shaking her head, Annabelle waved a finger at me, meaning she had no intention of talking to me with the recorder on.

Sighing, I turned it off. “Fine then. Now will you answer me?”

“I don’t usually pay a lot of attention to the working girls that come in here, but last night Gwen seemed agitated, so I watched her a lot closer than usual. She left alone.”

“Are you sure?” I asked with a raised brow.

My sister nodded. “I waved goodbye to her … that’s how I know.”

Great! Our job just got a hundred times more difficult. I thought for sure Gwen Jenkins would have left with a customer, which would have given us a suspect.

“Isn’t that unusual?”

Shrugging her thin shoulders, Annabelle pulled a beer out from the cooler beneath the bar and unscrewed the cap. “Guess no one was biting last night.”

“Well someone obviously did more than bite,” I grumbled.

“Two murders on the same night.” Annabelle shook her head. “You know damn well these are no ordinary killings.”

My sister had a bad habit of reading my mind, but this time I wasn’t about to admit it. “What do you think happened?”

“Well how should I know?” she laughed. “You’re the FBI Agent.”

“But what do you think?” I prodded.

If there was some supernatural hocus pocus involved with these murders, I was sure Annabelle would have a theory.

Smiling, she took a few more swallows of her beer before leaning over to rest her elbows on the bar.

“I think it’s old Captain Marsh.” Her lips spread into a wicked smile. “Lots of people been talking about seeing the captain lately.”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “One of my talents is seeing the dead … remember? I haven’t seen him … ever.”

Annabelle’s eyes opened wide in mock surprise. “Well of course if my big sister hasn’t seen him, then he must not exist. That would be too absurd. Never mind that she’s a fallen angel, who has a guardian demon, and she actually has a nickname for the Grim Reaper. I won’t even mention that her best friend is a ghost, and that her heartthrob from her high school days is a werewolf,
though she refuses to acknowledge it,” she added with a sour note ringing in her voice.

Damn! My sister could get so snarky.

Annabelle had always thought my fascination with Elias a bit morbid, and she never missed the opportunity to point out how strange he was.

“Are you done?” I asked.

“For now,” she replied with a wide smile. “That too hot boss of yours is headed this way.”

Like most women in Storm Cove, Annabelle wasn’t immune to Ayden’s charms. Strangely enough, my boss didn’t have a clue how many women would have taken him to bed, if he’d given them half a chance. It was either that, or he didn’t care.

Ayden only made it half way to the bar before he stopped and motioned for me to come over. I half suspected he preferred to avoid Annabelle whenever possible. My sister could definitely be foreword, and maybe even a little intimidating to some guys.

“Did you get anything?” he asked.

“Only that Gwen left alone last night.”

Really?” He was obviously as surprised as I’d been.

Like me, Ayden had probably thought whomever Gwen picked up the night before, would probably be the perpetrator in both homicides.

“Also … Annabelle thinks the murders have something to do with old Captain Marsh. She says there have been a rash of sightings recently.”

Ayden’s mouth morphed into a lopsided grin. “The old ghostly captain again. I suppose that’s easier to believe than the serial killer theory.”

I shrugged.

What could I say? The boss was right. Ghosts could be dangerous, but it wasn’t too likely a specter would have the ability to near rip someone’s head off.

Whoever did this was strong, and very big.

Suddenly I remembered Elias’s visit to the grill. He’d asked about a huge guy.

It was too much of a coincidence.

Now I was even more convinced he knew more than what he was telling.

* * *

It had been a long day, and I was glad to get back to my little cottage on the beach. Haven Beach got its name on account of it being the location where many of the Mystique’s survivors came ashore.

The location was great for me. With Haven Beach being less than two miles from Shipwreck Point, getting to work was a breeze.

It could be a dark place, depending on if you were the type to look at the glass as half full, or half empty. I preferred to keep a positive outlook on things whenever possible.

Instead of thinking about all the people who died in the waters off Haven Beach, I liked to think of the people who survived by swimming to shore near where my cottage was now located.

Sure, every now and again I had a ghost or two to deal with, but life in my little cottage was peaceful, most of the time.

I wasn’t surprised to see a little red and white cooler on my front porch. Whenever Granny made something special, she’d always stop by and bring me some. More often than not,
I wouldn’t be home, so she’d leave whatever delectable morsel she’d cooked up on my front porch, in her delivery cooler.

On days like today, Granny’s special deliveries were a godsend. I was too tired to cook, and certainly didn’t feel like stopping by some fast food joint, of which there were very few in Storm Cove.

With the sun already sinking into the Pacific, there were way too many shadows for comfort, especially considering our little town probably had a serial killer stalking innocent victims.

Well the innocent part might be pushing it a little, but just because someone wasn’t perfect, was no excuse to kill them.

Before serving up a plate of Granny’s lasagna, I turned on every light in the house, and then proceeded to lock the doors. I had just pulled the plate of lasagna out of the microwave when I heard one of the kitchen chairs slide across the floor.

There was an immediate adrenaline burst that went straight to my brain, which managed to drop my heart into my stomach.

Instantly, I went for the drawer where all the kitchen knives were kept, but stopped in mid-stride when I heard Julius’s familiar laughter.

Spinning around, I faced the demon that haunted me day and night. True, he sometimes acted as some kind of guardian, but most of the time he was an infuriating brute.

I gave him my furious demon glare, before blasting him with a flurry of scathing words. “Why can’t you give me some kind of warning before showing up in my house? It would be nice to be like a normal person and have a guardian angel … instead of you?”

Again he laughed, and it reminded me of a deep - haunting melody.

Julius was one of the original fallen angels, and like all angels, he was the image of perfection. Well he was perfect if you could overlook the invisible horns holding up his invisible halo.

He had the perfect male physique, with muscles that would make a professional bodybuilder jealous. Framed by a mane of dark hair, was a perfect, almost beautiful face.

Julius had the kind of face that could drive a woman to her knees, but it was his eyes that got to me.

Those onyx eyes reminded me of what it would be like to stare into a dark abyss, but every once in a while, I’d catch just a little spark of something good in them.

This was the only reason I tolerated him. Well that and the fact that Hell wasn’t about to let me loose without someone watching over me.