Duty and the Beast

by Chelsea Field

  I crossed the pretty garden, admiring the last of the winter blooms and wondering what Levi had in store for spring. I’d visited a few times since he’d offered the hand of friendship. Sometimes I’d bring Dudley over and we’d all walk together. Other times we’d sit on his back porch and make each other laugh. It was nice to have a friend who knew the truth about my job, and Connor was plenty confident in his own attraction to not be threatened by it.

  This time though, I had a mission. A date for Harper. And the quickest way to any pet lover’s heart—or in this case, preparing that heart for another woman—was through winning over their pets.

  Pity Connor wasn’t head over heels for his newest houseguest yet.

  I rang the doorbell, and Levi appeared in the doorway. With his angelic face, wicked dimples, and molten chocolate eyes framed with lashes so long that even blinking seemed flirty, it was no wonder Harper was interested. Now I needed to find out whether that interest might be mutual.

  I held up the plastic takeout containers. “I come bearing gifts.”

  “For me?”

  “Of course not. You know I’m just here to see Syrup and Waffles.” His two giant rescue dogs were sniffing and shuffling behind him, waiting for their turn to say hi.

  Levi grinned easily. “Well, I won’t hold that against you.” He stepped aside so I could greet them. “Did you want to enjoy the last bit of daylight on the back porch?”

  “Love to. Especially if there’s a cup of tea on offer.” My tummy rumbled, and I realized I hadn’t had dinner yet. “And a snack if you have anything.”

  “Seems only fair since you keep my dogs in snacks.”

  I followed him to the kitchen, and Syrup and Waffles followed the containers. Unless I held them over my head, they were convenient sniffing height for the pair of them.

  “Can I see if Syrup likes my new cookie experiment? I made broccoli and bacon grease ones this time.”

  Levi placed the kettle on the gas burner. “Go for it. If she doesn’t eat them, I might.”

  “Now I’m concerned about that snack I asked for.”

  “Oh, dog kibble isn’t good enough for you? You should’ve warned me you were fussy.”

  I was tempted to throw the cookie I was holding at his head, but I placed it in front of Syrup instead. She was a shy, fawn-colored Great Dane cross and didn’t trust me enough to eat out of my hand yet. Waffles, a smaller but braver Scottish deerhound mix, shoved forward too. “Don’t worry, boy, I haven’t forgotten about you.” I handed him a couple of slivers of dehydrated chicken. He tossed them down without chewing, and by the time I looked over at Syrup, her cookie was gone as well. I grinned and selected some more treats for them. “You’re out of luck, Levi. Syrup likes her cookies just fine.”

  Waffles got lamb heart this time, and Syrup danced with impatience as I put her second cookie on the floor. It disappeared as if by magic.

  Levi was still occupied with our tea, so I turned back to the imploring eyes of the dogs. “All right, last round, guys. Then you’ll have to beg Levi instead.” I selected beef for Waffles, not that I was convinced he kept them in his mouth long enough to taste the difference, and offered the cookie to Syrup, palm up. Why not? It was worth a try.

  She stepped forward somewhat cautiously, then shoved her nose into my hand and gobbled the cookie, leaving slobber in its wake. A hefty amount of slobber. I was too thrilled to care.

  I washed my hands, then put the lids on the containers and placed them on top of the fridge—one of the few surfaces high enough to be out of the dogs’ reach—before the four of us went outside. Levi and I sank into the padded swing seat while Syrup and Waffles trotted out to do a sniff patrol of the yard. We sat in silence for a minute, enjoying the serenity, the tea, and the snacks. He’d rummaged up roasted macadamias, cracked pepper chickpeas, and a spicy dip with slices of celery and carrot—all of which were much better than dog kibble.

  Levi shifted on the swing cushion. “Look, I’m really sorry about bringing up the human-trafficking doctor stuff with Connor. I assumed he knew—”

  “No, it’s not your fault. He should’ve known because I should’ve told him. I only have myself to blame.”

  “Well shit. I’m still sorry. I feel terrible… Is, um, everything okay between you?”

  “I’m working on it being okay between us.”

  He banged his head into his hand. “Oh no.”

  “No really, it’s fine. We’ll be fine. I have a plan.”

  Okay, a plan I wasn’t superconfident in, but I was confident I’d persist until Connor took me back.

  Or shot me for my relentless pursuit.

  “Good. I’m glad. And look, I’ve known Connor for years now, and I can guess at why he’s having a hard time digesting the doctor thing. I’ve worked through some similar baggage from my Army days… So anyway, if you wanted me to try talking to him…” He left it open-ended. A question.

  “Thank you.” It was an incredibly sweet and gracious offer. Levi had been both of those things unfailingly toward me the whole time I’d known him. “I’ll let you know if I need backup.”

  “Deal,” he agreed.

  “I did have an agenda for coming today though.”

  “Oh hell, don’t tell me you need more syringes.”

  “No!” Thank goodness. The last agenda I’d come to him with was one I hoped to never repeat. “I was wondering, for the sake of a friend, if you were interested in dating right now?”

  His teeth flashed in the weakening light of dusk. “I’m intrigued. Tell me about her.”

  “Well, she’s smart, funny, and gorgeous in that tall, athletic way. Works as a mechanic, which tells you something about her confidence in coloring outside the lines of normal, and she has a thing for fast, flashy cars. Likes to have fun. But above all, she values her family more than anything.”

  I knew family was important to Levi too. As was having someone he could laugh with.

  “What’s the catch? Is she allergic to dogs or something?”

  “Nope, she loves dogs.”

  His teeth flashed again. “In that case, I’m absolutely interested in dating right now.”

  “Good.”

  The hounds in question padded over to the swing seat and demanded attention. I’d have to give Harper some of my special treats. But I still had a final hurdle to navigate with Levi first.

  “Um, there is one thing I should warn you about.”

  Levi rubbed Syrup’s ears, making her groan with pleasure. “I knew there had to be a catch. Hit me with it.”

  “She’s Connor’s sister.”

  Waffles chose that moment to hop into the gap between Levi and I—a gap that was most definitely not Waffle-sized—sending the swing seat rocking madly and our tea sloshing in our mugs.

  We both shuffled aside to make more room, and Levi looked at me over Waffles’s scruffy fur. “That might be worse than the dog allergy.”

  “But she’s nothing like him!” I protested.

  I didn’t know what it meant that I was saying that about the man I loved like it was a benefit.

  Levi smirked as if the same thought crossed his mind. “Okay… Does this mean I would’ve seen her about the place?”

  “Well, you saw her handiwork once. Remember the human trafficker who’d been knocked out by a wrench?”

  “Not something I’m likely to forget.”

  “That was her. She sped to my rescue straight from her garage and grabbed the first weapon she had handy.”

  Levi put down his mug. There might not have been much tea left after Waffles’s efforts. Plus it freed up his hands to pet both dogs. “Wait. You want me to ask out a girl who knocked a murderous human trafficker unconscious with a giant wrench and who also happens to be Connor’s sister? Are you sure this isn’t payback for letting it slip with Connor? Because that combination makes me kind of nervous.”

  I leaned over Waffles and punched Levi half-heartedly in the shoulder. “I’m sure. She’s grea
t, I promise. And you aren’t trying to tell me a war veteran is scared of a girl with a wrench?”

  “First, I was a doctor, not a soldier. Second, it was a really big wrench. And third, well yes, a little.”

  I laughed. “Then it sounds like the ideal foundation for a wonderful relationship. Here’s her number.” I texted him the contact details. “Ask her out already.”

  He threw up his hands in mock defeat. “I’ll do as I’m told, but only because I’m kind of scared of you too.”

  We passed a pleasant half hour chatting about nothing in particular, and I left with a light heart, feeling like I’d done a good deed.

  But returning home to my empty apartment after an evening of playing matchmaker emphasized my own loss. I missed Connor.

  I picked up Meow and sat down to write.

  Connor

  The house was quiet. Mom was asleep, Petal presumably tucked in with her since she hadn’t come to greet me. And Maria had gone home for the day, back to her doting husband Armando.

  But that was just it—Maria would always return to him. The most life-threatening thing about being my housekeeper was tripping over the vacuum cleaner or the dog who’d taken to stalking it.

  Being a Shade was a whole other matter. And being danger-prone Isobel Avery was even worse. I didn’t know a single other Shade who’d gotten into as many scrapes as she had, and she’d only been doing it for six months. Despite what Mom thought, I hadn’t made the decision to break it off with her lightly. It was the logical action to take.

  I strolled down the hallway and tried to find pleasure in the perfect order. Everything was spotless. Clearly, Maria’s last job of the day had been to tackle the relentless invasion of dog hair. Izzy hadn’t been here to throw her clothes on the floor or leave a spatter of toothpaste in the sink. It was nice.

  But it wasn’t as nice as having her warm body and warmer smile waiting for me.

  The front door banged shut as I changed my plans for the evening and headed to the shooting range.

  I blamed it on the wind.

  12

  The next morning dawned too soon. I’d stayed up late agonizing over every last word in my letter, and now I had to decide how to deliver it to Connor.

  Should I just hand it over in the car? Except we’d agreed to keep the case and our personal lives separate, and he’d respond better to what I’d written if he could read it in private and have time to process it first.

  No, I’d give it to him after we’d wrapped up our work for the day.

  Decision made, I enjoyed a slice of cold pizza for breakfast, although the fact that Oliver had left any reignited my worries over his strange turn of mood yesterday. Not that dramatic changes of mood were unusual for Oliver. One minute he could be in a full-blown rant about his monarch and the next laughing wholeheartedly at Meow chasing a cockroach. But that was just it—when he was down about something, I could usually snap him out of it with a good meal or a joke or change of topic. Plus I’d never known him to lose his appetite over anything. Last time he’d gotten gastro, he still ate my share of the leftovers from dinner the night before.

  But despite my concern for Oliver, I had a self-defense lesson to get to, a double homicide case to unravel, and the man I loved to win back. Not to mention that Etta and Mae were up to who knows what, and whatever happened with Harper and Levi would rest partly on my shoulders.

  So with Oliver fast asleep after his late shift, I had no choice but to leave that mystery unsolved. For now.

  I rushed out the door, spent an hour running through self-defense situations with Nick, then hurried home to my apartment to meet Connor. Once again, he didn’t look a whole lot more rested than I did. What was keeping him from sleep? Work overload? His mother’s machinations? Or… Petal’s snoring? The thought made me snort aloud, drawing his eyes to mine.

  “Sorry,” I said. “A bug flew up my nose.”

  Yeah, sure, that was a believable explanation.

  “Let’s hope that’s the worst thing that happens today,” Connor said, and with those ominous words, he handed me the research the police had done on Damon Wood and Tony Callahan. Lucky he handed me a coffee too.

  “Thanks.” I got to work familiarizing myself with them.

  Connor pulled the car to a stop when I was a few pages in. I looked up and saw we were outside a Best Western hotel. “Who are we meeting here?”

  “Adeline—Etta’s niece.” Connor didn’t sound happy about it. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I might’ve thought he blamed me for finding himself in this mess.

  I suppose I had introduced him to Etta. But since he was always lecturing me about standing up for myself and saying no to her, I wasn’t sure how she’d contrived to not only persuade him to allow her niece to tag along but go out of his way to pick her up too.

  He hadn’t brought a coffee for Adeline, however—just me—and I felt strangely flattered.

  But I didn’t let it stop me from teasing him.

  “You know, I used to think you were so strong and in control of every situation, but it turns out you’re just a pushover like me.”

  He turned a dubious gaze my way. “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s see, Etta said jump yesterday, and you asked how high?”

  Connor’s mask slipped enough that his forehead creased in displeasure. “I can’t believe Hunt said yes to that request. He’s the pushover in this situation.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. I simply pasted a knowing smirk on my face and left it at that.

  Five minutes went by. I used the wait to continue reading the files, but I could sense Connor’s growing frustration next to me. “What time is she meeting us here?”

  “Eight thirty.”

  I checked. Adeline was late. Connor didn’t appreciate people being late.

  Another five minutes passed.

  Oh dear, Adeline was not getting off to a strong start here.

  Finally I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye, and a curvy brunette in a short white dress and floral four-inch heels came up to the rolled-down window.

  Guess she hadn’t heard it was the cold season here in Los Angeles.

  “Hi, you must be Connor Stiles, and Isobel, was it?” she asked in a charming British accent. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

  Connor wasn’t charmed. “You did. Fifteen minutes in fact.”

  “Oh. Sorry. My agent called, and we had to go through the terms of my contract, which is still under negotiation—”

  “We’re working on a double homicide case, Ms. Thorne. Tomorrow be on time or take your own car.”

  Knowing what it was like being on the receiving end of Connor’s disapproval, I leaned across the center console to catch her attention. “Don’t take it personally. He’s this grumpy with everyone.”

  She flashed me a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

  “But I’m still leaving you behind if you’re late again.”

  “Yes, sir!” She swung herself into the car and bent forward to murmur in my ear. “If I’d known he was so good-looking, I would’ve told my agent to sod off.”

  That was when I noticed exactly how attractive Adeline Thorne was and began second-guessing my kindness.

  But that was silly, right? I was a bigger person than that.

  Maybe.

  Regardless, I hoped her agent would have something even more enticing for her tomorrow.

  By the time we’d arrived at our new suspect’s company headquarters in Ocean Park, we’d caught Adeline up to speed on the basics of the case. She’d proven to be a quick learner. In some ways, that is. Not so much on the how-to-not-irritate-Connor front.

  She shimmied out of the SUV and whistled at the generously proportioned three-story building. From the ground, you could just make out the rooftop garden, which must have had views to the beach. “He owns this? What’s the policy on dating suspects?”

  Connor ignored her.

  “Sheesh,
I was kidding. Is there some rule against private investigators having a sense of humor?”

  I joined in out of sympathy. “Oh, Connor has a sense of humor. It’s just buried deep, deep down.”

  Connor said nothing.

  We crossed the road toward the exorbitantly expensive building, and I hoped the secrets inside it would be easier to unearth than Connor’s sense of humor.

  Tony Callahan, the man Damon Wood had fingered for the double murder, wasn’t quite in the league of Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, but he wasn’t so far off from where I was standing. Of course, we were less interested in how rich and successful he was than in how many people he might’ve killed in pursuit of that success.

  Officer Mendez had found the microcomputer Damon had assured us we’d find, and Stanley Cox had continued to be uncooperative in explaining how it got there.

  So Stanley was covering for someone.

  And if it wasn’t his partner in crime, it was someone who’d paid him to confess to a double homicide he didn’t commit.

  On the basis of Tony Callahan’s background report, he might just be that someone.

  We entered the three-story building through a set of silent sliding doors, and a minute later a pretty receptionist was leading us through the inner labyrinth. It was obvious the place had been fitted out by a professional interior designer. The warmth of exposed timber ceilings contrasted with the sleek cool of polished concrete floors, and the effect combined with expert lighting, artfully placed furniture pieces, and thriving indoor potted trees was both impressive and inviting.

  I was also impressed that Adeline effortlessly kept pace in her four-inch ankle breakers as we were guided to Tony Callahan’s private office.

  His receptionist (who might’ve been chosen as a complementary accessory to the interior design) tapped on his door. Our person of interest opened it.

  Seeing us all there must’ve made Tony wonder how interested we were. “Wow, three of you. What’s the occasion?”

  Connor ignored the question. “I’m Connor Stiles, a consultant with the LAPD, this is my colleague, Isobel Avery, and this is Adeline Thorne, who’s, er… basically our student intern.”