The Accidental Werewolf 2: Something About Harry (Accidentally Paranormal Novel) (19 page)

Nina pulled him into a hug, stroking the back of his head, her voice holding a hint of a tremble as she consoled him. “Jesus, dude. Who the fuck did this?”

Mara hopped down from the tree, reaching down to grab on to Darnell’s hand as he helped her off the last limb.

Carl grunted upon seeing her, dragging his stiff foot behind him; he fell into her in his zombie embrace. She gave him a gentle hug, pulling back to look into his fear-glazed eyes. “You okay, Carl?”

Carl tucked his head into her and snuffed against her shoulder before lifting it and giving her his lopsided grin. Then he set his sights on Harry; tripping and stumbling, he made his way to him, thumping him on the back, using the side of his hand to stroke Harry’s fur in jerky fashion.

Harry’s big body began to tremble and quake and in mere seconds, he’d shifted back to his human form without so much as a protesting groan.

And he was naked.

Even in the height of this madness, Mara found a way to appreciate Harry’s gorgeous physique. It made her shiver.

Harry, on all fours, didn’t even open his eyes, and he didn’t look up at the group. “I’m naked, right?”

“Like the day you were born,” Marty said on a snort, averting her eyes.

“Dangly bits and everything, dude. Look away, Carl—stranger junk alert,” Nina cracked, grasping Carl’s hand and using it to cover his eyes.

“Shit,” Harry mumbled at the snow-covered ground.

Darnell was the first to react. He yanked off his sweatshirt and covered Harry with it, holding out his hand to help him up.

Harry tucked himself inside the sweatshirt, tugging it down over his muscled thighs as he rose.

Mara fought a girlish sigh and instead smiled at him. “You were awesome! You found Carl.”

Harry nodded and smiled back. “Yep.”

She wrapped her hands together behind her back as they began to walk back toward her cottage behind the others. “And how ever did you do that, Harry Emmerson? Was it due to your uncanny powers of deduction?”

“Nope,” he muttered low.

“Your superior detective skills,
Castle
?”

“No again.”

Mara mock gasped. “Wait. Could it be it was because of those werewolf abilities you so despise?”

“Maybe.”

“Aha!” she shouted before giggling. Score one for lycanthropy.

Harry paused, barefoot and almost naked, and grabbed her arm. “Look, Mara, I told you it’s no insult to you and your family, pack, whatever. It has nothing to do with this not being amazing, because it is, and under any other circumstance, I’d be all for it. I’m sorry if you feel insulted. That’s not my intention. And I don’t despise these abilities. I just don’t want them.”

Mara decided they had bigger fish to fry tonight than Harry’s inability to accept his fate. “And I’m just saying it isn’t all bad. However, that’s all I’ll say for now.”

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. He looked down at her, a smile flirting with his lips. “Really?”

“Really,” she confirmed, putting her hand on his chest. “And thank you. We were all so caught up with worry we forgot to listen for Carl. You, on the other hand, were brilliant.”

Harry’s smile was warm. “I’m just glad he’s okay. He was pretty scared.”

“None of this makes any sense. First the kids, and now Carl.”

“You think they’re related?”

“I think it’s pretty strange that there’ve been two instances so close together, and so similar, don’t you?”

He shook his head, his lips thinning. “Yep, and I keep trying to make the connection between the kids and Carl, and I can’t. The only thing I can think of is Guido.”

No. That didn’t add up. Guido didn’t even know about Harry’s niece and nephew. “But what does he have to do with Mimi and Fletch?”

“That’s where I lose the connection, too.”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Nina called out. “Step that shit up. We need to stay together, and we need to get back before Harry’s man parts freeze the fuck off.”

Harry looked down at Mara, the crinkle of his eyes showing his amusement. “She has no filter.”

Mara giggled. “Nope. For as long as I’ve known her, she’s always just said it.”

He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled, the deep vibration of it tickling her hand. “It’s rather refreshing, if obnoxious and crude.”

“But you have to admit it’s better that she’s on your team. Imagine her on the opposing side.”

Harry mocked a shudder. “I’ll take the zero on that. So, question?”

“Make it fast, or she will get angry. Angry Nina is scary Nina.”

“Are you upset that she knows what we were doing . . . you know, before? I don’t want to embarrass you.”

She was a million things in the aftermath of their lovemaking, but upset that Nina knew what they’d been up to was the least of it. She almost avoided his eyes, then internally voted for complete honesty. How could she be ashamed of such an amazing experience? Mara shook her head. “No.”

He let his head drop, lowering his lips and resting them just tantalizing inches from hers. “You’re kinda smart and hot.”

Now she was embarrassed. Mara let her eyes fall to his chest, their cold noses pressed together. “I’m mostly not,” she denied.

Bracketing her face, Harry lifted her chin, forcing her to rise on tiptoe, and claimed her lips in forceful possession, sending that same rush of heat straight to the place between her legs he had but an hour ago. He swept his tongue over hers before releasing her. “For the record,” he whispered, “I emphatically disagree, Mara Flaherty, and I don’t get how you can’t see it. But I want you to know I do. I see it. I see
all
of it.”

His words, said with such forceful conviction, made her shiver, but her response was guarded. “Duly noted,” she murmured, taking his lead on the path back to her cottage, fighting the impulse to read too much into Harry’s words.

CHAPTER

13

Upon their return, Carl safe and warm, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and pressed against Nina’s side, they all hovered over Mara’s kitchen table. Marty had gone home to keep Keegan from growing suspicious in her absence. Now, with Wanda and Archibald, her husband’s manservant, on Skype, silence prevailed.

Harry’s good mood had turned sour when he’d remembered the note he’d seen tucked into Carl’s shirt pocket. He’d yanked it from Carl’s pocket, hissing his anger after reading it.

After careful examination, including sniffing the paper and studying the handwriting, none of them could figure out what it meant. No scent on the paper that was recognizable, nothing special about the handwriting.

It left them all not only stumped but on high alert. Everyone was edgy, but no one was edgier than Harry.

“Who the hell is doing this?” Harry said between thin lips, swiping the note up with an angry hand.

Nina flicked the note with two fingers. “Dude, somebody knows about you two, and whoever the fuck it is, they don’t like it. But I’ll tell you this, the dickknuckle responsible for stalkin’ kids and stealin’ my zombie’s gonna fucking pay.”

Mara’s veins had turned to ice, the heat emanating from the nearby fireplace doing nothing to warm her.
“Tell Mara and Harry I see them . . .”
The words on the spiral-pad notepaper sent cold chills up her arms and alarm bells screeching in her brain.

Nina’s hand slammed down on the table, the brunt of it knocking the vase of silk flowers over. “Bet it’s fucking Guido. Why the fuck he’d be doing this, I got no clue, but he’s the only other person who knows about Carl being with us. We need to go get his ass and shake it out of him.”

“And if it’s not him?” Harry asked, his voice rising. “Then what?”

Nina slammed her fist on the counter, making Carl bury his face in her neck. “Then we goddamn well do what we always do in every other case like this. We figure it out—together—and we don’t stop till we take a motherfucker out.”

“Nina!” Wanda yelled from the laptop on Skype, her fuzzy pink bathrobe tucked around her chin. “Before we get too crazy, how about we poke around and see if maybe it’s an old girlfriend of Harry’s? Jealous or something.” Her eyes fell on Harry. “So you have any of those, Harry? Maybe someone who saw you and Mara together yesterday?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t date anyone at work for a reason. Secondly, whoever this was took Mimi and Fletcher before Mara and I introduced ourselves as a couple.”

Mara sat silently. She didn’t want to know about Harry’s ex-girlfriends. Not if they weren’t important to finding out who’d taken Carl and the children.

Archibald stuck his shiny head around Wanda’s shoulder and peered at them. “I’m Archibald, sir,” he addressed Harry with a smile. “Might I say your children are delightful. We’ve had a lovely time these past days. We’ve baked, we’ve indulged in song and even some dance, for which I’m no match for the lovely Miss Mimi. Then Mimi and I had a divine traditional English tea. Sir Fletcher and I battled the evil dragon with our makeshift swords made of cardboard and tinfoil. Truly, they are superb, precocious, well-mannered children. They have asked to call me Grandpa Arch, as the others do. Shall I give them your permission?”

Harry’s hard swallow tore at Mara’s heart, his grief biting her hard. He loved those children, and despite their rocky start, he missed them. “Of course. I’m glad to hear that, Archibald,” he said, his voice husky and low. “They’re a handful sometimes. I appreciate your help.”

Arch held up a finger with a refined chuckle. “Ah, you mistake a handful for insightful, curious minds. Their energy, if I might be so bold, is simply misdirected. And of course, there is the issue of the loss of their parents. My deepest condolences to you.” Arch bowed his head momentarily.

Harry swallowed again, his fist clenching around the note. “Thank you.”

“However, Sir Harry,” Arch said, his weathered face changing from light to dark. “On one of our nature walks, wherein we chatted about things such as the dormant state of Miss Wanda’s vast gardens and the reason for said state during winter, as well as Mimi’s unwavering love of the color purple, we did discuss this woman who came to their educational facility and took the children.”

Harry sat up straight, leaning toward the computer. “And?”

Arch scowled. “As we walked, Sir Fletcher made mention of something I noted but made no impression on me until just this moment. He said the woman who took them on their walk had whiskers. Now, while I found that unusual, and of course, I wanted to remain calm and not cause greater concern for the young lad, I quite passively asked him what he meant. He said her
chin
had whiskers—bushy whiskers. I don’t think I quite understood what that meant, other than certainly, some women of a certain age,” he paused to clear his throat, “need more assistance than others in maintaining their grooming habits. Yet now, I question whether this is a factor, a
paranormal
factor, in your quest to consider all possible suspects.”

“Whiskers?” Mara repeated, putting together what a child of eight would interpret as whiskers. “So potentially, she had unsightly hair?”

Arch shook his head. “No, miss. I don’t believe it was simply a female issue. I did not press Sir Fletcher so as not to frighten him. Yet I firmly believe this was something he considered out of the ordinary. Not simply because it was so pronounced on a woman, but just that he’d made note of the very fact that they were
bushy
whiskers. Along with, as you already know, Mimi’s description of her ‘swingy’ hair. He said it as though he knew it was rude to speak of out loud, yet appeared to find it rather important, now that I reflect.”

“So we’re lookin’ for a bitch who has a beard?” Nina crowed.

“Oh, Miss Nina,” Arch said on a chuckle. “I do so miss your presence. Tell me, when will you bring me my sweet Charlie? Surely, she’s overdue for some of Grandfather Archibald’s spoiling?”

Nina held up her knuckles to the screen for Arch to bump, her grin wide. “She doesn’t need another fucking toy, Arch. Jesus, you and the stuffed unicorns. She’s got a hundred of ’em in her damn crib. Promise, once shit cools off, I’ll bring her over, and Carl, too.”

Carl’s glazed eyes had brightened while he watched Archibald talk. He thumped the screen with the side of his hand in his attempt at a wave.

Archibald waved back. “Hello, Sir Carl! Aren’t you a fetching fellow? Come soon to visit, won’t you? I shall make you a broccoli soufflé so light and airy, you’ll surely float.”

Carl grunted his approval, but swiftly became distracted. He stood still for a moment, his head cocked at an awkward angle as though realization had just hit him, then began to hop around in his stilted fashion.

He grabbed a handful of Mara’s hair and tugged at it. Due to his stiff limbs, what Mara was certain was meant to be just a tug turned into a full-on wrenching. “Ow! Easy, Carl. It’s attached to my head,” she reminded him with a smile.

But Carl wouldn’t let go. He clutched her hair tighter, drawing her to his chest.

“Carl!” Nina jumped up with a shout. “No hair pulling, buddy. Do you remember our list of rules and personal space?”

Carl began to make new sounds, anxious and frantic. He loosened his grip, but refused to let go.

Mara’s ears twitched. “I think he’s trying to tell us something,” she said on a wince when he lifted the rope of her hair higher and shook it.

Carl bounced once more, spewing forth short, excited grunts.

Harry rose from the table and put his hand on Carl’s. “Carl, easy, pal,” he soothed, easing the thick strands from Carl’s grip. “First, are you trying to tell us something you think is important?”

Carl hopped again, snorting and huffing with a wheeze.

Harry smiled his encouragement. “Okay, good. So, obviously, it has something to do with Mara’s hair?”

Carl went straight for her head again, but this time Mara ducked him. “My hair, right, Carl?”

“Wait!” Wanda yelled from the laptop screen. “Archibald just said Mimi mentioned the woman who took them had swingy hair like Mara! Is that what you mean, Carl?”

Carl thumped the counter with the side of his hand.

“Good job, pal,” Harry complimented with a gentle pat on the back and a warm grin. “Now, what about Mara’s hair? I don’t get it, but I will, okay? Just give me a minute, and if you understand what I’m saying, bang the counter, okay?”

Carl banged the counter, his grunts becoming more expressive.

Mara squeezed his arm and grinned. “Oh, Carl, you’re so smart! So, does my hair have to do with something you know?”

Carl whacked the countertop so hard that he knocked one of his fingers off. It rolled to the end of the counter and dropped to the floor with a light thud.

“Shit,” Nina muttered. “I’ll get the duct tape.”

“Easy, Carl,” Mara coaxed with a smile. “Don’t hurt yourself. So you know something that we need to know to help us find out what that note you had means?”

Carl thumped, only this time, with less vigor.

“Did you know the person who took you, Carl? Was it Guido?”

Carl stood stock-still.

Not Guido. Hold on.
Her hair.
She twisted the length of it, her eyes widening. “My hair . . . do you think the person who took Mimi and Fletcher was the same person that took you, Carl? Did she say something about the kids to you?”

“Christ, this is like goddamn zombie charades,” Nina muttered, reentering the room with silver duct tape. She began to wrap Carl’s finger back on, while Carl thumped his other hand in answer to Mara’s question.

Harry sat back in his chair, his shoulders sagging. “So the person who took Carl is probably the same person who took the kids.”

Carl thumped once more.

“Do you know this person, Carl? Have you ever seen this person before?” Mara asked, pressing the edges of the duct tape on his finger to secure it.

Carl didn’t move.

No. Damn. “Did she talk about me and Harry, Carl? Did she talk about the kids?”

Carl thumped once more.

“Maybe we should be more direct rather than generalize? My gut says whoever this is, even though she took Carl, she wouldn’t let slip much that was important. Not if she’s a smart kidnapper, anyway, even with Carl unable to speak,” Harry suggested. “Did the lady say anything else but our names, Carl?” Harry asked.

Carl played statue.

Damn, damn, damn.

“But
who
is this woman? How are Carl and the children connected in her mind other than to both of you?” Wanda chirped from the laptop, straightening in her seat. “I go back to my original theory, Harry. Do you have any ex-girlfriends with the potential to do harm? Whatever this is about, part of it is about you and Mara being together. That much is obvious.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve only had a couple of serious girlfriends, and I think I can quite honestly say with no disrespect intended, they wouldn’t go to these lengths to catch my attention. I don’t think they’re capable of putting something like this together.”

Mara’s heart sang a stupid song, giddy over the fact that if nothing else, she won the biggest brains contest.
Knock that off, Mara. It’s catty and petty.
“So for now we rule out a jealous ex and focus on what? None of this makes sense. I certainly don’t know anyone who cares one way or the other about our pretend relationship.”

“Astrid,” Harry dropped the word like a bomb.

Mara’s head swung upward. She was definitely smart enough, and she’d certainly expressed her displeasure about her and Harry dating. “She doesn’t have swingy hair like me.”

“A wig?” Wanda suggested.

Mara shook her head. “Astrid’s quirky and even sometimes possessive, but she’s not—”

“Nutty as squirrel shit, Short-Shot? I’m here to tell ya, I’ve met that wingnut a time or two at some of Pack’s company picnics. Bitch is one screw shy of coming unhinged, and I’m not just talkin’ brainy kinda wingnut like you two. I’m talkin’ full-on, all in her head, crazy-ass nutcase. I did the potato sack race with her. You learn a lot about a whack when your ankles are tied the fuck together like drumsticks on a roast chicken.” Nina nodded her dark head to confirm her statement.

Mara was quick to defend her friend. “But she’s known all along about my crush on Harry. She supported it. I would daydream all the time with her . . .” Oh. Oh, God, why, why, why were her emotions suddenly like a babbling brook?

Harry’s eyes found hers, but his words didn’t belie his feelings on the subject, nor did they mock. He was All Business Harry. “So you’ve talked with Astrid about this—I mean, me? She knows how you feel, felt . . . whatever?”

Nina’s mouth began to open, but even from the distance Skype created, Wanda was on watch. Her finger flew upward before tapping the screen. “Nina! Do not. I’m warning you. Do not open your big mouth, or I’ll drive over there tonight and stuff one of Fletcher’s dirty socks in it.”

Nina smirked, using her fingers to indicate she was zipping her lip and throwing away the key.

Mara looked down at her hands and swallowed. How could she admit she’d fantasized loud and proud over many a lunch with Astrid as her compadre in lust. How could she divulge that all her secret desires had been shared out loud? But she had to. If Astrid was suspect, and she’d had anything to do with taking the children or Carl, they needed to look into all aspects of her—even the most unbearably uncomfortable. “Yes. Astrid knew.”