Despite the structure listing to the right, the lack of running water, the outhouse in the back, inside it was clean, dry and tidy. Elathan didn’t have much in the way of material things. Kayla found a few toiletries that might be antiques. A rough wooden bench held a few empty shotgun shells. No shotgun, though. If she found one, she’d have to turn it over to the police—anonymously, but it would still have to be done.
A few gingham sacks and a hiker’s backpack rested beneath a bunk. Kayla found a wallet made of tarred canvas. There were only a few hundred dollars in it—not nearly enough to post bail. Inside the first sack she looked in were contents that made her gasp.
Gold. Lots of it. Gold coins, gold nuggets. How much did gold go for? At least a thousand dollars an ounce, and the bag was pretty heavy. She pulled a few out. Some were heavily scarred and worn, some looking almost new. Kayla didn’t know anything about coins. She’d have to find a dealer in the morning. A crumpled receipt gave her a clue where to start. If Elathan had been selling off his coins, she had to concede that he probably owned them legally.
She couldn’t help but snoop through the other bags. For the most part, she found a change of clothes, a suit that would come in handy after she bailed him out, and some camping supplies. The last bag held a couple of surprises. Kayla examined two objects, but had no clue why Elathan would keep either one. She would have to ask him tomorrow.
Tonight, she was exuberant. Her first case, and she felt she was on the right track. After she got home, she would celebrate with a good meal and maybe some wine. Things were really falling into place for her.
What really sounded good was a prance through the woods. The sun was setting, and no one was around for miles. Hunting season was a long way away. She might as well. Kayla didn’t have many opportunities to release her inner animal.
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Chapter Five
Blood tugged at the collar around his neck. Of all the things to bring him—a suit? Well, what the fuck, at least he was out. He took a long breath outside the jail. He could almost smell freedom in the air. That was until he saw the idling car and Kayla behind the wheel. She tooted the horn.
Fuck.
Reluctantly, he slid into the car. Kayla stared at him.
“You look--”
“A fool?”
She pulled from the curb. “I was going to say dashing.”
“Right. I’m pretty sure this suit’s older than you. Where are we going?”
“Well, you were right about another arson. It happened last night. Arson investigators say it had an identical chemical profile of the one Iwalani’s client allegedly started. They had to drop the charges.”
Blood looked out the window. “So we’re going to get the file?”
“Bet your ass.”
“Dandy. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me.”
“I have to ask,” she said, driving toward the highway. “How did you know there would be another arson last night? If you heard it from another inmate, we need to report it.”
Blood considered her words. “You don’t have to tell the cops anything we talk about, right?”
“Right.”
He considered how to word this. “I knew there would be another fire, because we had a full moon last night.”
Kayla gave him a scrutinizing glance. “How does that figure?”
How much could he tell her? Even if she couldn’t ethically tell anyone else… Unless she thought he was mentally unbalanced. He was sure there was a caveat there. Instead, he changed the subject.
“You look kind of familiar to me.”
“Really?”
Blood took in her profile. “You have Indian blood?”
Kayla smirked. “If that’s your quaint way of asking me if I possess Native American heritage, I can only say: I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I had an accident when I was a girl.”
Blood remembered the scar. “A head injury.”
She side-eyed him. “Yes. The police thought it was a hit-and-run. I can’t remember any of it. I think I was shifting when it happened. I never got my memory back.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. That sounds pretty rough.”
Kayla frowned, shaking her head. “Nah. I knew what I wanted in life. I pulled up my big girl pants and got it done.”
Blood looked at her expression, a mixture of sadness and determination. Perhaps she didn’t want to remember her past. “You’re doing all right. Nice ride. Law degree.”
“All right?” She snorted. “I’m doing great, buddy.”
Iwalani Johnson’s law practice occupied a small office space in downtown Portland. The parking gods smiled, and Kayla pulled to a spot out front. Blood watched Kayla look around, taking it in. A receptionist led them to a waiting room.
“This is pretty swank,” Kayla said. “Big step up from the public defender’s office, that’s for sure.”
In the waiting room, a young woman lounged on one of the couches. From the way she took up the entire space in such a way as to appear boneless, Blood pegged her as a teenager. This despite the makeup, painted on jeans, breasts thrusting against a V-neck T shirt, and complicated hair.
Blood couldn’t help but eye her. He murmured low. “Looks like a bad girl. I’m guessing the alleged arsonist.”
“Alleged bad girl. She’s trying too hard,” Kayla gave him a hard squint. “I’ll be right back.”
Blood sat in a chair opposite the alleged bad girl. Kayla knocked on the door before opening it. Without a word, she pointed her finger at Blood. He got the message. Leave the bad girl be.
When the door closed, the bad girl in question peered at him from over her shades. She smiled.
***
Iwalani rolled her eyes as Kayla entered. From her in basket, she grabbed a bound accordion file and tossed it over. “You were right. But if I find out you had inside information about this firebug, I’m going to the bar.”
“I don’t know who it is, but I can’t say more.” Kayla felt the weight of the file. Not very hefty. “This is all you have?”
“Trust me, once you start, you’ll see that it’s more than enough.” She sat back, pointing Kayla to a chair. “You come across as a predatory species.”
Kayla sat a little straighter, lifting her chin. “I’m a hind shifter.”
“Mm.” Kayla braced herself for some slight. Instead, Iwalani asked, “Why would you want to defend a monster like Blood?”
Kayla didn’t speak for a moment. When she’d first heard about the assault on Blake, she was glad she was so junior in the department. Upon seeing his mug shots, something opened up in her. For reasons she still could not fathom, she volunteered to take the case. She said, “The man has a right to representation. No one else was up for it.”
Iwalani studied her for a few seconds. “I don’t recognize you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the courthouse.”
“This is my first trial” Kayla heard how lame that sounded in her own ears. ”I mean, I’ve worked on a lot of cases, but I haven’t tried one solo.”
Iwalani stood up. “In that case, I’m glad I gave you the file. Even with the information my investigator gathered, your case is a real loser. Blood’s going down. My biggest worry is what happens after he’s convicted. It could spell disaster for all of us.”
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Chapter Six
“Your girlfriend doesn’t want you talking to me.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my lawyer.”
The girl cracked her gum. Her brows lifted “Hey, you’re that murderer guy.”
“Alleged.” He looked her over. “You’re that arsonist girl.”
She shook her head. “Charges dropped.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What do I have to thank you for? The idiot set another fire when they had a suspect locked up.”
“I’m that
murderer guy.” Blood put his elbows on his knees. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
“Oh, hell to the no. I’m not afraid of anyone.”
“Because you’re a wolf shifter?”
She sank back into the couch. Blood hoped he had shut her up. Then, an idea occurred to him. “How’d you like to make some money?”
“Sorry, I’m not into pervy old men.”
Blood nodded. “Me neither. But you have a cell phone, right? Internet stuff?”
“Doesn’t everybody?”
Blood didn’t. He let it slide. “I want you to look up anything you can find on Kayla Hart.”
“You want me to cyber stalk your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my lawyer. I want to make sure I can trust her.”
The girl smiled with one corner of her mouth. “You sure she’s not your girlfriend?”
“I’ll give you fifty bucks.”
“Two hundred.”
“I can go to the library.”
“A hundred.”
“Okay, fine.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Elathan Blood.”
“Isabela Marino.”
“I’m staying at the Creekside Hunting Lodge. Considering how much party garbage I had to toss, I’m assuming every high school kid knows the place.”
“I know it.”
Footsteps preceded a hand on Blood’s shoulder. He spun to face a snarling wolf shifter. “Get your hand off of her, you son of a bitch.” An angry father, no doubt.
“Easy, wolf-boy. Just being polite.”
Two others filed into the waiting room. One of them wore a pinstripe suit and a Fedora, the other wore a half-buttoned plaid shirt and had to duck sideways through the door: Oscar León, private eye, and Thorn, the apex predator.
The detective frowned. “You tried to take my life, cabrón. One misstep, and you’re back in jail.”
Blood planted his feet, knees flexed, ready. “You’re gonna bring me in, Señor Pussy? Without your girlfriend to back you up?”
Oscar’s face turned murderously dark. Thorn put a hand on his shoulder, halting him before he could move forward.
“Just wanted you to know, it’s us watching you this time, asshole,” Thorn said.
Blood smirked. “I got you to yelp, bastard. That was all I needed.”
Isabela watched the argument like a tennis fan, eyes going back and forth over the top of her shades.
“We still put you away.”
“And yet here I am. I’ve taken you all on, separately and together, and I’m still standing. You put me in jail, but I’m free. Threaten me all you want. You gave it your best shot—it just wasn’t good enough.”
The wolf-shifter, Laramie Marino, got back in Blood’s face. “You want good enough? Touch my little girl again, and I’ll plant you in the ground.”
Blood wasn’t worried. Even though each of them was a powerful shifter, he stood his ground. It was one thing to cause a fracas in the middle of the woods. It was quite another in the middle of downtown Portland. No one was about to go animal to take him out.
Except maybe they didn’t have to. Oscar put his hands on his hips, spreading his coat open. He was intentionally showing Blood his gun. Of course, it was only a toy, a CO2 replica. But Blood could smell the silver of the ammunition. One good plink at close range, if the tiny silver bead pierced the skin, Blood wouldn’t be able to shift. It was how these losers had brought him in. He had to admit, the PI had as many tricks as Blood did.
But Blood had one more trick in his bag, one that he wasn’t at all used to. Relaxing his posture, he gave a hard stare at each man. He heard the door to Iwalani’s inner office creak open.
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Chapter Seven
File in hand, Kayla headed out. The angry crowd in the waiting room stopped her short. She recognized two of them from the courtroom. The other man must be the girl’s father. The girl remained on the couch. It must’ve been a hell of an argument because the girl’s ennui was replaced by intense focus. Thorn, the father and especially the private eye were red in the face, teeth clenched. Elathan stood, one hand clasping the other wrist. He looked like the center of an angry hurricane.
Her eyes locked on the weapon in the detective’s shoulder holster. “Are you threatening my client?”
“You’re client is a monster, a killer,” the detective, Oscar, growled.
“My client is innocent until proven guilty.”
The big one, Thorn, shot his eyes to hers. “We already know he’s guilty. We were the ones he nearly killed.”
Kayla pulled out her cell phone. “I think you’d better leave before I call the police.”
Thorn squinted. “You’re calling the cops on us?”
“Yes. For harassment at the least—perhaps even assault.” She glanced meaningfully at Oscar’s gun. Stepping between the big men, she moved next to Elathan. “You’re all a bunch of bullies. You think the world is your playground. But I’m not playing. Get lost, or get busted.”
“The cops have already fucked this up,” Thorn said. “We’re not the bad guys here.”
She had to crane her neck to look Thorn in the eye. “Just so we’re on the same page, I’m filing a restraining order against all of you. You get within two hundred yards, you’re going to jail. Do we understand each other?”
She heard a throat being cleared and noticed Iwalani standing in the office doorway. “The Marinos need to sign some paperwork. And if you don’t mind, you can take your pissing contest outside.”
Hands on her hips, Kayla stared the big men down. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
Oscar and Thorn exchanged a look. The detective angled his head toward the door. Wordlessly, the two of them skulked out. Laramie Marino gave Elathan hard eyes as he ushered his daughter toward the inner office. Before the door closed, she caught a quick exchange between Elathan and the girl.
“If I find out that you are contributing to the delinquency of a minor, I’m sending you back to jail, too,” she said to Elathan as the door closed. “She’s underage.”
Elathan grunted. “Maybe so, but she looks older than you.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “What next? Are you going to tell me you don’t need a girl to defend you?”
“Absolutely not.”
His words surprised her. Elathan’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and something else that set her tingling.
“I actually thought that was pretty hot.”
The tingle turned to a blaze. Heat crept up her neck. Elathan angered those men to the point of near violence. Hatred like that was inspired for a reason. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a pull toward him that was nearly as compelling as gravity. “That’s nice of you to say.”
His blue eyes locked on hers, the intensity of his gaze shedding the teasing quality, but not the sparkle. “But.”
“You can flirt with me all you want, Mr. Blood. But I’m a professional. There’s a code of ethics I have to follow.”
“Where’s the fun in that, Miss Hart?” he asked, words light, but his gaze still penetrated.
She wasn’t going there. Not now. “There won’t be any fun at all if I don’t get to work on your case. Not for a long, long time. Attempted aggravated murder in the first degree, that’s a minimum of fifteen years. If you’re found guilty of all the charges, you could be looking at a minimum of thirty years in jail, Elathan.”
Kayla expected him to slough off her seriousness, tell her what she already knew, that shifters were long-lived. But what was the point of an extended life if you spent so much of it behind bars?
Again, he surprised her. Elathan took her hand. “You’re right. I apologize for not taking this more seriously.”
“Thank you. Apology accepted.” She hefted the file in her other hand. “I have a lot of reading to do.”
Blood held on for a moment, and she felt the heat of his fingers against her skin. “I have a few things to get do
ne myself.”
“You still need to talk to me about what happened. I need to hear your side of the story.”
“Indeed.” His eyes trailed to their clasped hands.
She studied his face, the shapely bones, the dimple of the chin, the crooked nose that had been broken more than once. Save for the lines around the eyes, she saw no flaws in the smooth skin. It was the face a classical sculptor might have carved. How could this man have done such evil things?
His eyes met hers again. “Let’s discuss this over dinner. Someplace civilized. It would be a nice change for me.”
“A client dinner would be fine.”
“Not a date?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. We have business, a case to build.”
“Then would you mind driving me home? I don’t want this old suit to get too wrinkled.”
He wanted to look nice for her, she thought. And immediately chased the thought away. This was not going to be a date. She found the notion disappointing. “Let’s go. I really need to get started.”
Elathan held her hand for a moment longer before breaking his gaze.
***
It wasn’t until after she dropped him off that Kayla realized the man had been in jail—he probably didn’t have anything to eat. He certainly didn’t have a car. She stopped at the general store in Ripple, and gathered a basket of groceries. There were some pre-made sandwiches in a cooler. She grabbed two, and a couple sodas.
Elathan appeared in the doorway as she drove back up. “Cancelling our non-date?”
“No. I guess I’m setting up another one.” She took the grocery bag out of the car. “I thought you might need some supplies.”
He angled his head at her for a moment. “You brought me food?”
“Can’t have you starving to death. It would look bad on my CV.”
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