Terry Spear’s Wolf Bundle (48 page)

Dressed in a tweed suit, Joe Kelly, the miner who’d paid for her bottled water the first time she’d been here, walked up to the bar with a smile. This time he was clean, not a speck of grime on his baby-round face. His gaze focused on her low-cut bodice, which sent a prickle of anxiety sparking across her skin. No matter how many times she’d tried to pull the bodice higher when she crouched to get glasses from beneath the bar, the darned thing wouldn’t budge. And Sam had caught her in the act every time.

“Can I have a beer?” Joe asked.

“Sure.” Lelandi filled a glass.

“You look a lot like your sister.”

Triplets often did, she wanted to say. “You were her friend?”

His eyes darkened and his mouth curved down.

He didn’t like being thought of as Larissa’s friend? Maybe he’d stalked her and she’d turned him down. Maybe he’d hired the killer or did the job himself.

He lifted his gaze slowly. “Will you…leave with me? I…I don’t want you to get hurt, too.”

She assumed he’d cared for Larissa. A gut instinct. “Do you know what happened to my sister?”

Sam moved closer to Lelandi. He didn’t look at her, just continued pouring drinks, but he had no reason to close in on her, except to hear what was being said. For her protection? Or was there more at stake?

Joe slid Lelandi a piece of paper. She considered stuffing it in her bodice, but when Trevor showed interest in the note, she opened it. Joe bowed his head and took his beer back to his table.

The paper was blank. Trevor seized it and Joe gave her a satisfied smile. The deputy shot Joe a blistering look. Joe lifted a shoulder.

Trevor asked Lelandi, “What did he say to you?”

“Why don’t you ask Sam? He’s been eavesdropping.”

Sam gave her a reserved smile.

Trevor’s expression darkened. “Because I’m asking
you.
”

Having dealt with his kind before in her pack, she shrugged off his attempt at intimidation. Given a little power, it would go straight to their heads.

“He wanted a beer. I gave him one. He worried for my safety. Considering what happened the last time I left this tavern, his concern probably is justified. Oh, and he said I look like my sister. No real revelation there.” She raised a brow, waiting for Trevor’s response.

He glanced at Sam who nodded, confirming she’d
spoken the truth. The deputy crumpled the note and tossed it on the bar, then walked off. Before Lelandi could grab the note, Sam did. Why? Did he think there was some secret communiqué written on the paper in invisible ink?

Sam shoved the note in his pocket. She hoped if Joe had written anything to her in secret, he wouldn’t get in trouble for it. Unless he had a hand in her sister’s death. As much as she thought he was okay, she couldn’t rule out anyone yet.

The stocky bitch who’d pulled Lelandi’s hair in the restroom the night she was shot sidled up to the bar. Silva was carrying a tray of drinks to a table, Sam was filling more glasses, and Lelandi set more drinks on another tray, trying to ignore Angelina.

“Got you tending bar, I see. Earning your keep?” Angelina snarled. “Three bullets weren’t enough to keep you away, were they? What will it take?”

L
ELANDI
WANTED
TO
SHUT
A
NGELINA
’
S
MOUTH
FOR
HER
AS
she leaned haughtily against the bar. In mixed company,
lupus garous
were careful about what they revealed. But this woman was too angry to care.

“Three bullet wounds?” a blonde human female asked, her blue eyes round. She wore jeans, snow boots, and a tight-fitting ski sweater that showed off her ample breasts while she sat on a heavy-duty parka—not into the Victorian-era festivities it appeared. “She’s not the one everyone is talking about, is she? The one people said looked like death had claimed her?”

“Superficial wounds.” Lelandi gave the
lupus garou
bitch a warning look.

“You should have died.” Angelina grabbed a glass of Coke off the counter, and took a seat with Ritka and Hosstene. Guess Hosstene had found someone else to man her costume rental booth for the day.

“Angelina’s a pain in the ass.” Silva left the empty tray on the counter and grabbed another full one. “It’s rumored she fears tackling you again.” She carried the tray to a table.

“My name’s Carol Wood.” The blonde stuck her hand out.

Lelandi’s parents had taught her not to make friends with humans. Close human involvement could cause
a world of trouble—period. In all these years, she had heeded their advice and was thankful for it. The woman reminded her of a reporter, eager for a headline that would propel her into an overnight news sensation. Lelandi wiped off her hands on a dish towel and shook the woman’s hand.

“I love your costume. I didn’t realize people were dressing up. Next year, I’ll get something. But an early snow’s coming so I was dressed for that.”

The weatherman had said nothing about an early snow, although Lelandi and her kind could smell it coming. She wondered how this woman knew.

Carol took a seat at the bar. “Chablis, please. So you’re…Larissa, right? The sister of Darien’s deceased wife?”

“Yes, but I’m Lelandi. My sister was Larissa.”

Lelandi moved away from the woman, but caught the eye of a dark-haired guy sipping a soda, watching every move she made. He wasn’t wearing a costume either, just a sweater and turtleneck and a pair of denims. But it was the intrigued way he observed her that gave her pause. She took a deep breath and breathed in his scent. A gray. And he’d been listening to her conversation with Carol.

His expression remained serious, and he finally set his glass down and leaned against the bar closer to her. Joe raised up out of his chair, but one of his companions seized his arm and shook his head. His face scowling, Joe retook his seat.

“Nothing is as it seems, miss. Just watch your step.” The man’s voice was friendly, but dark.

Trevor came up behind him and growled low, “Move along.”

The man’s lips rose in a coy way, then he bowed his head to Lelandi, and took his glass and headed to one of the tables.

“Who is that?” Lelandi asked Sam in a hushed voice.

He glanced at the table where the gray sat. “Chester McKinley. He’s checking out our town so he can make recommendations to his mayor of Green Valley. Why? Was he bothering you?”

“No.”

Chester still observed her with a cool, appraising expression. As much as she tried to ignore him, even when she went back to filling another tray of drinks for Silva, Lelandi noticed he was still studying her.

Trevor had moved to a position near the restrooms and watched the tavern’s patrons. Mitchell stood near the front door doing the same thing as if he and Trevor were bouncers who usually served on duty. At any rate, she felt safe.

“So is this your regular job?” Carol moved a barstool closer to where Lelandi worked.

What
was
she doing here? She was supposed to find her sister’s murderer. Now she’d joined with her sister’s widowed mate and the word would soon spread throughout the pack. She’d intended to find her brother next. But at least Bruin was out of the picture. Or she assumed he was. She knew he’d retaliate against her and her parents when Larissa ran off. But she didn’t think he’d try to take Darien on for mating her.

“I guess you were paying your condolences. I’m so sorry about your sister. I had one who suffered from severe depression. Hers was an organic thing. She finally
slit her wrists and well, no more depression.” Carol offered a weak smile, but tears filled her eyes. She stared at her empty wineglass, then frowned. “Sorry. That didn’t sound very nice the way I said it. I loved my sister, but my parents doted on her, trying to ‘fix’ her, trying to placate her. Me, I was upbeat no matter the hardships that came my way so my parents acted like I never needed a support system whenever anything horrible happened in
my
life. My sister had nothing to complain about. Always ticked me off that she was so jealous of everyone when she had everything. But…I guess I’m still angry with her for ending her own life.” Carol handed Lelandi her empty glass. “Another Chablis?”

“I’m sorry about your sister.” Lelandi poured another glass of wine.

“We were really close when we were little. Then…” Carol hurriedly wiped tears away. “So…what do you normally do when you’re not filling in?”

“Taking care of my father.”

That left a bitterness in Lelandi’s mouth. She hadn’t really considered what she would do beyond looking for her sister’s murderer and finding her brother. If her mother hadn’t worked and needed Lelandi home to take care of their father, she would have worked as a…well, maybe a psychologist. Everyone used her as a sounding board for their troubles. Maybe she would be good at that. Yet, becoming Darien’s mate left her unsure of her next move.

“Oh. Is your father sick?”

Lelandi looked away. “He’s dead.”

She wondered who could be so cruel to send her flowers, saying they were from her parents. Yet a
crumb of hope nagged at her. What if they were truly safe? But how?

“Oh. I’m sorry. What are you going to do now that you have no father to look after?”

“I’ll figure it out later,” Lelandi said, not willing to reveal anything else about herself, particularly to a human. “So, what do you do?”

“Ohmigosh, let me tell you.” Carol leaned forward and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”

Right, as if this woman had anything to tell her that would be worth her time. “Sure,” Lelandi said, doing her faux bartending psychology work and leaned over the counter. “What?”

“I’m psychic, sometimes. It comes and goes,” Carol said, her voice still hushed, then she straightened and grinned.

Lelandi stared at the woman. She didn’t believe in that stuff. Just like she figured the haunted hotel across the street was part of a big hoax, and soul mates didn’t exist. Except after making love with Darien, she was reevaluating her stance on that.

“I don’t know why I mentioned it to you, but you seemed the sort that wouldn’t tell the world. And, well, maybe because we both lost a sister to severe depression. Means we have a connection, sort of. Plus,” Carol said, shrugged, and added, “you’re probably not planning on sticking around. Kind of like telling a stranger on an airline flight about your wildest sexual fantasies, and you’ll never see that person again.”

Lelandi’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve done that?”

Carol laughed. “No, but I’ve wanted to.”

“So what does being psychic mean for you?”

What if the woman could envision humans turning into wolves under the full moon or something else that could really cause problems if anyone believed her?

“I’ve seen…things. Have since I was a little girl. Really strange things. But you don’t want to hear about that. Most importantly, I’m a trained nurse—trained in surgery. But the only opening here is for the school nurse. I want to work at the hospital, except that woman…” She waved her half-full wineglass at Ritka’s table. “…the shorter, fat one, Angelina, she wouldn’t give my résumé to the doctor.” Carol shook her head. “Darien Silver is on the hospital board and apparently
he
has the final say about hiring staff. Said I could work at the school. Sure enough, they said they’d hire me. That the old school nurse, and believe me she looked ancient, was ready to retire. But I’m trained in surgery. Why would I want to work with kids with runny noses? Waste of my training.”

“The hospital’s staff must be full,” Lelandi said, understanding why Darien wouldn’t hire her.

“Can I see your wounds?” Carol pointed to Lelandi’s stomach.

Lelandi gave her a faked smile. “Sorry. If I begin exposing body parts, the guys will think they’re in a strip joint.”

Carol laughed out loud and slapped the bar. “Strip joint. That’s funny. Here? A strip joint? This place is as backward as they come. I don’t even know why I left Denver after I got my training.”

“Why did you?”

“My parents. I’m the only daughter they have left, and I wanted to be here for them.” Carol finished her
drink. “Let me tell you, I’m not easily dissuaded.” She handed her glass to Lelandi. “Another Chablis?”

“Forgive my asking, but do you usually drink this much?”

Carol gave her a lopsided grin. “I missed the fair last year. What are celebrations for if you can’t have some fun? Fill ’er up.”

Lelandi poured the wine into the glass and deposited the woman’s cash into the register. The tavern was so packed, Silva was getting way behind on service. Hoping she wouldn’t drop a tray of drinks, Lelandi grabbed the next one and meant to carry it to a table full of gray males. Maybe because Darien and his brothers weren’t around or because the five men had a little too much to drink, they were making fools of themselves, trying to get her attention—grinning, wolf whistles, a few comments she couldn’t make over the din of noise in the place. Before she reached the table, Ritka shoved an empty chair into Lelandi’s path.

The back of the chair knocked the tray into Lelandi’s chest, giving her heart a jump start and a dull thud radiated outward. Before she lost the drinks, Chester McKinley leapt from his chair and seized the tray. He set it on the men’s table, while Ritka gave Lelandi an evil smirk. Lelandi grabbed the chair, her knuckles straining with tension, but fought the urge to knock Ritka’s teeth down her throat. Yet, the male grays waited to see how she handled the situation. Alpha females didn’t back down, although she had to curb her natural
lupus garou
instincts because of the humans in the establishment.

“Are you all right?” Chester seized Lelandi’s arm and moved her away from the impending fight, as she warred with her natural instincts. “Did she hurt your injuries?”

“Thanks, no, I’m all healed.” Maybe a new bruise though. Lelandi cast Ritka a warning look that she’d deal with her later. “Thanks for helping out.”

“I admire a woman with spunk. Your courage reminds me of my sister, around the same age as you. She’s gotten herself into predicaments that have forced me to rescue her a few times.”

Deep inside she wished her brother had been more like Chester and stuck around to help her family. “What did you mean about me watching myself?”

“Darien’s too close to this situation concerning your sister. I’ve been there before. He needs an outsider. Someone who isn’t as easily influenced by family or long-time friendships.”

“Someone like you?”

“I’ve been a P.I. for a number of years. The cases I’ve worked I’m not emotionally involved in. That’s all I’m saying.”

“What do you know about this case?” Lelandi hoped he could give her something to go on.

“Nothing. Darien’s people watch me day and night. I’d need his permission to investigate.”

Lelandi folded her arms. “You’ve got
my
permission.”

Chester smiled. “You’re really cute, you know?” He shook his head. “Darien has to approve.”

“All right then. What do you suspect?”

“Plenty. But I need Darien’s approval. Right now, his brother tells me Darien’s too busy to speak with me.”

Lelandi frowned. “I’m investigating my sister’s death even if he doesn’t like it.”

Chester let out his breath. “Better let the grays handle this. They may not get to the bottom of this as
quickly as I might, but you don’t need to get yourself shot up again.”

She hadn’t intended to. But then she realized she needed to find her gun. Where could Darien have secured it? His office? His bedroom? “How long are you staying?”

“I’d planned on being here for just a couple of days and report back to my mayor about Silver Town. But when I saw you shot to hell, I decided to stick around longer. Maybe you’ll need me. And maybe you can change Darien’s mind in the meantime. In any event, you stay—”

Trevor stormed toward them, gave Chester the evil eye, then continued on past.

Chester raised his brows, his gaze following the deputy out of the tavern. He squeezed Lelandi’s hand. “Get me a beer, will you? I have a feeling I’ll be tossed out of here shortly for being an outsider talking to you. Although I imagine any of the guys in this place who attempt to speak with you would torque him off.”

Trusting her wolf instincts, she felt Chester McKinley might be able to solve the mystery of the killings. What was wrong with Darien to brush his offer of help aside? As soon as she saw Darien, she would try to convince him to capitulate.

Her spirits lifted as she imagined that they might discover the murderer sooner with Chester looking into it. She returned to the bar and got him a beer. Before she could take it to his table, Silva seized it.

“Don’t need any more ‘incident’s.’ As soon as Trevor tells Darien that Chester McKinley was molesting you, there’ll be hell to pay.” Silva gave Lelandi a broad smile.
“You sure know how to do it, sugar. I haven’t managed to do anything with Sam to make Trevor jealous.”

“Maybe your heart isn’t in it?”

“No…no. Sam was totally agreeable. Said he’d do anything for a good cause, and I do want to give it a try. But…”

“You don’t want to make Trevor jealous. You’re afraid it may backfire.”

“I guess you’re right. Trevor’s got a hot temper. I guess I’m afraid he might take it out on Sam.”