Broken Wheel Wolves: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Books 1-6) (Werewolf Romance - Paranormal Romance)

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Broken Wheel Wolves: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Books 1-6) (Werewolf Romance - Paranormal Romance) Page 11

by Melissa F. Hart


  “He says he’s 100% sure that this wolf didn’t attack Duke, or anybody else for that matter, and he’s willing to testify to that fact.”

  Wilson wiped his mouth with a wad of paper napkins. “So do you have a theory about what happened to Duke?”

  “I think someone shot Duke, then shot the wolf and sliced his throat open to cover it up.”

  Dougie shook his head, as he rearranged the tomato slices on his ham and cheese. “Why would anyone want to kill Duke Minton, beloved husband, father and Sunday school teacher? We need motive.”

  Jade pouted a little. “I haven’t gotten that far. So what’s your big idea?”

  Tearing a little foil pouch of mustard open with his teeth, Dougie shook his head again. “I have no idea. Just keep the magic formula in your head: means, motive and opportunity.”

  “Maybe it was an accident,” Jade hypothesized. “Maybe someone was trying to kill the wolf and they unintentionally shot Duke. They panicked, and tried to cover their tracks.”

  “Maybe,” Wilson replied. “But why is Duke Jr. so adamant about it being the wolf that attacked his dad?”

  “Are you saying we need to be looking at Duke Jr.?” Jade asked, a little incredulously.

  “Can anyone alibi him for the time he was supposedly gone retrieving the fencing tools?” Wilson asked, in his matter-of-fact way.

  “That’s a little cold, don’t you think?” Dougie added. “The guy was clearly shaken up.”

  “Grieving son, guilty son…they can look a lot alike,” the sheriff said bluntly.

  “Can we at least wait until the funeral is over on Saturday before we interrogate him?” Jade implored. “Rosie will never forgive us if we upset Evelyn any more before Duke even gets in the ground.”

  “Look, I’m not telling you two how to run your investigation, but I am saying you have to stay objective. It’s easy in a place like Broken Wheel to miss something because of our rose-colored glasses.”

  “Point taken,” Dougie admitted. “But I’m with Jade, let’s get through the funeral, and read the coroner’s report before we rake Duke Jr. over the coals.”

  “In the meantime, I want to take a walk up in the BLM land, to see if there’s anything that might lead us to a shooter,” Jade announced.

  “And I’m going to pull phone records and financials on both Duke Sr. and Duke Jr. and see if anything strange pops out,” Dougie added.

  Always one to enjoy the last word, Wilson closed the loop. “Then stop your jawing and get to work.”

  ***

  The trip up to the BLM land gave Jade the perfect chance to return Claire’s body, and, she hoped, an excuse to see Conall face to face. The more she pondered the strange visit from Aoife, the more she felt her temper rise. Did Conall really have so little regard for her that he would send another woman to tell her they were finished? She had to remind herself, though, that she and Conall had never really started. One night of sex, no matter how transcendent it seemed at the time, did not make a relationship. And where had he been for these last weeks? Clearly not engaged with her.

  The sound of crickets chirping interrupted her gloomy reverie. She glanced at her phone lying in the seat next to her, and the caller ID window displayed “Boomer” in huge capital letters. Boomer. He was probably calling to finalize the details of their date the next night.

  She stuck in her ear bud and tried to sound cheerful. “Hey, Boomer.”

  He laughed. “I can never get used to the fact that caller ID makes a preemptive strike. I think I liked it better in the old days when one could hide behind a cloak of anonymity.”

  “I took your call, didn’t I?” Jade laughed in return.

  “Yes, you did. How’s your day going?”

  “Ever been to a wolf post-mortem?”

  “Can’t say that I have. Interesting?”

  “Well, some of it was.”

  “Speaking of interesting, you want to go into Jackson tomorrow night?”

  “Well, Jackson is definitely more interesting than Broken Wheel.”

  “Pick you up at seven?”

  “Sounds like a plan. See you then.”

  “Bye, Jade.”

  Jade pulled out her ear bud. The last ninety seconds of her life had been entirely normal. Wasn’t that what she wanted? A normal guy, a normal date? Someone who could bring stability to her life? Someone who cared about how her day was going and with whom she could share the ordinary happiness of her world? She had almost had that with Harlan, and for a time, it had truly seemed preferable to the drama that seemed to come with the Irishman. And knowing what she knew now—that Conall had at least one daughter, pup, offspring, who had fur and a tail—how could she square that with normalcy?

  A ribbon of smoke was coming from the chimney on the old cabin that Conall had taken over. His jeep was parked out front, and the combination of the two gave Jade hope that he was home. The Bronco rolled to a stop, and Jade climbed out slowly, more than a little aware of the butterflies in her stomach. She swallowed hard and stood a little taller as she knocked at the door of the cabin. To her dismay, though, it wasn’t Conall who answered, it was Aoife.

  Trying to smooth the shock out her face, Jade automatically went into her polite deputy mode. “Is Conall home?”

  “No, he is not. Have ye brought Claire?”

  “I have.”

  Aoife stepped outside. She was wearing a heavy cable knit sweater, jeans, and boots. The wind picked up her curls, swirling her hair around her in flaming corona. She was beautiful, and Jade wondered how she could begin to compete with a woman that attractive who could also, apparently, turn herself into a wolf.

  Automatically, Jade walked to the back of the Bronco, opening the tailgate. Aoife followed, and Jade caught her wiping away tears, whether the lash of the cold wind or emotion caused them, she couldn’t be sure.

  “The vet’s Shoshone; he respects wolves, and he was very careful with her. And he can testify that this wolf…that Claire didn’t attack Duke Minton.”

  Aoife nodded. “We are grateful to the both of ye then. We don’t want any more trouble.” Lifting Clair easily in her arms, Aoife turned to Jade. “Our kind has run from trouble for centuries. Did ye know that there are no wolves in Ireland?”

  “No wolves in Ireland?” Jade repeated, puzzled.

  “We abandoned our homeland long ago, coming to the new world to keep the clans alive, but even here, wilderness has disappeared, and there are few places where we can live safely.”

  The sadness in Aoife’s voice struck a chord with Jade. “What about the National Park? No one can bother wolves there.”

  “Aye, that’s true. But a black-hearted clan, much larger than ours, refuses to share that refuge with us. When we tried to find safety there, many died—including Conall’s mate, my sister, Riona.”

  “Then why not stay in human form?” Jade asked.

  “It’s complicated. We can only give birth as wolves, and our young stay in wolf form until they fully mature—only then do they gain the ability to shapeshift. And some now—we don’t understand why—are never able to shift. They have a human mind in a wolf’s body for their entire life.” The bitterness rose in Aoife’s voice. “Soon, it will no longer be a problem, though, because there won’t be any of the O’Faolán clan left.”

  “There’s no way to negotiate with this other clan?”

  Aoife laughed contemptuously. “The Carey clan prides itself on its evil deeds.”

  Her laugh died away, and Aoife gazed tenderly at the bundle in her arms. “There is much to do. Tomorrow is the full moon, and we will have her wake. Then on the next full moon, Conall and I will be mated.” She started for the cabin then turned back to Jade, her former steeliness returning to her voice and posture. “Ye have to leave him alone. He is mine. It is our duty to the clan to have as many babies as we can. Our clan’s survival depends on it.”

  Jade said nothing as she numbly watched Aoife carry Claire’s body into the cabin.

>   As the door closed between them, Jade felt a sharp, salty sting as the freezing gusts whipped at her tears, and from a rise in the distance, she could hear the unmistakable cry of a wolf.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK FIVE: Lost and Not Found - Volume 5

  ***

  Lost and Not Found

  ***

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  Bomb technician Gil Harkness glanced over to the passenger side of the front seat of his car. His hands rested easily on the steering wheel, belying the fact that every other part of his tall frame seemed a little on the tense side. With a couple of effortless turns of the wheel, he parallel-parked in an open space on the street and cut the engine.

  “I’m sorry. Boomer. I guess I’m a little distracted by Duke Minton’s death. I don’t mean to be a stick in the mud.” Jade sighed a little.

  “It’s just that I’ve never heard you have so little to say.” Boomer smiled gently, so his teasing wouldn’t be misconstrued. “I know how it is when a case gets under your skin. It’s like someone is randomly poking you with a needle—it’s hard to let down.”

  “Well, knowing you get it is a relief, ‘cause I hate being bad company.” Jade pushed some strands of loose hair back behind her ear, unused to wearing her straight ash blonde locks in any manner but her signature ponytail. Realizing she was staring at the toes of her dressy, knee-high, leather boots, she picked her head up to look into Boomer’s deep brown eyes. She could see nothing but kindness there.

  “You look really beautiful tonight.” Hastily, Boomer corrected himself. “I mean, you always look pretty, but…”

  Jade jumped in to save him with a laugh. “I know, this is probably the first time you’ve ever seen me in anything but a deputy’s uniform.” Unconsciously, she tugged a little at the hem of her forest-green, turtleneck, knit dress. Then she reached over and tentatively put her hand on top of Boomer’s, resting on the seat between them. “Thank you. You’re looking pretty fetching yourself tonight.”

  A broad smile broke across Boomer’s chiseled face. “I don’t know about that, but I’m hopeful my looks will improve once I get a couple of glasses of good wine in you.” He brushed his hand across his crew cut. “It was kind of a bad hair day.”

  Jade laughed and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Did I warn you that weird cases make me incredibly hungry?”

  “Then we better get some chow into you, stat.”

  The perfect gentleman, Boomer came around and opened the car door for Jade, giving her a hand out so she wouldn’t slip in the slushy snow. Even though she wore three-inch heels, Boomer was still a good four inches taller, and Jade found his striking physical presence somehow comforting. Then the memory of Conall kissing her in the Minton’s pasture stabbed at her like someone slipping a steel blade between her ribs and jabbing at her heart. She tried her best to shake it off and remind herself that Conall was out of the picture. Aoife, who would become his mate for life in a month, had made that extraordinarily clear.

  Boomer handed over their jackets to the coat-check, and an elegant hostess checked the reservation list. She glided between the diffusely lit tables, leading them to a cozy spot next to the fireplace. The hostess pulled the table away so that Jade could slide onto the velvet-covered banquette, and Boomer joined her, also facing the fire, rather than taking the chair opposite. It was becoming clear that this wasn’t just some casual get-together. Boomer had clearly laid the groundwork for a romantic date.

  “I hope this is okay,” Boomer said modestly.

  “It’s lovely.” Jade tried to smile to show her appreciation, but her stomach was churning. What was wrong with her? Here was a nice man who was clearly making his interest in her known, and who had put some forethought into creating the setting. She could see other women in the restaurant sneaking glances at her handsome escort when their male companions weren’t watching, and one group of three women drinking martinis wasn’t being subtle at all as to what they thought about the muscular hunk of manhood on the banquette next to her.

  But Conall kept invading her thoughts, and it was maddening. Was he exerting one of his shapeshifter superpowers again? The thought of that made her even more determined to enjoy her evening with Boomer. Damn, Conall. He didn’t even have the guts to tell her that he was betrothed to another woman, or wolf, or whatever Aoife was. She shook her head, trying to push the thought of them out of her mind. It was ridiculous to continue entertaining the idea that she could have some kind of meaningful relationship with a man whose deceased child had four feet and fur.

  “What is it?” Boomer asked with a concerned furrow of his brow. “I—I didn’t over do it for a first date, did I? I’m…a little out of practice.” He pulled a little at the lapel of his beautiful gray, wool-tweed blazer, trying to diffuse his nervous energy.

  “No, no, it’s this damn case. I really need you to help me think about something besides work,” Jade lied. “Honestly, I’ve always wanted to come here, but…it’s not really the kind of place for solo dining.” Jade did her best to perk up and opened the menu. “So what do you recommend?”

  For the rest of the meal, Jade managed to focus on Boomer and normal conversation, and to not think about Conall, Aoife, poor dead Claire, poor dead Duke Minton Sr., or how Duke Jr. wanted to blame everything on the wolves. Boomer was an entertaining storyteller, but an equally good listener, and she realized that was an appealing combination. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, and it wasn’t only because of the very nice bottle of pinot noir they were drinking. She was truly having fun.

  In the short amount of time she had spent with Conall, he had impressed her in a lot of different ways; he was sexy, passionate, brave, otherworldly, and pre-Aoife, he had moments when he had been wonderfully comforting and protective. But simply having fun together had not been high on their list of shared activities. Jade found herself more than willing to linger over her coffee as she and Boomer shared stories about stupid things they had done in high school and college.

  On the car ride home, the conversation was far more animated than it had been on the way to Jackson, and Boomer’s hand kept finding its way over to Jade’s knee. Jade knew Boomer wasn’t the type of guy to rush things, but she found that she was eagerly anticipating a good night kiss. There was a lot to like about the handsome bomb tech, and it wasn’t just the fact that he had size thirteen shoes. Jade remembered what Nicolette had said, about how the size of a man’s feet supposedly predicted the size of a…man, and she giggled a little under her breath.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” This time when Boomer asked, he didn’t seem tense at all.

  Jade smiled mischievously at him and squeezed his hand resting on her leg. “Not anything you need to concern yourself with,” she teased. “I was just thinking about shoes.”

  Boomer shrugged and laughed. “Women. Inscrutable.” He squeezed her hand back, “But…I love a good challenge.”

  As they turned into her driveway, Jade’s heart skipped a beat, but it wasn’t because she was looking forward to kissing Boomer. There on her little porch was the unmistakable silhouette of Conall O’Faolán.

  ***

  Boomer’s face clouded with concern. “Why is someone sitting on your porch at midnight when it’s twenty-two degrees outside and the wind chill must make it feel like zero?” Then another thought crossed his mind, “Please tell me that you’re not involved with someone.” He looked at Jade pointedly. “I’m not really interested in becoming one corner of some kind of dysfunctional triangle.”

  Jade felt torn between wanting to leap from the car and wrap herself around Conall and wanting to reassure Boomer that their lovely evening together had been a good investment of his time and feelings. She sat in the passenger seat, paralyzed. After a moment, she pulled herself together with a deep breath.

  “That’s Conall O’ Faolán. You met him when we were investigating the explosion at the Winter’s property—the wildlife biologist wh
o has been studying the wolves up on the BLM land. He’s the guy who got us out of the jam with Nicolette Page’s crazy ex-boss.”

  “Okay, so he didn’t blow anything up, and he managed to take down a psycho. That still doesn’t explain what he’s doing on your porch at this time of night—when it’s cold enough to freeze the whiskers off a cottontail.”

  “I…don’t know—I don’t know why he’s on my porch.” That much was true, Jade thought. “But if I keep sitting here, I’m never going to find out.” Unlatching the door, Jade bolted from the car before Boomer could stop her. Her date quickly followed.

  “Hello, Jade,” Conall said in an off-handed way, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about him sitting on her porch in the numbing cold. “I’m very sorry to disturb your evening.”

  Boomer eyed Conall suspiciously. There was something about the Irishman’s familiarity with Jade—as evidenced by his tone of voice and body language—that made Boomer’s investigative antennae go up. No matter what Jade might say or think, Boomer quickly understood that Conall was somehow a rival for Jade’s attentions and affections.

  Jade tried to keep her voice level, uninflected by the mix of panic, longing, and confusion welling up inside her. “It’s late, Conall, why are you here?”

  Conall’s eyes swept over Boomer and Jade knew the Irishman wasn’t happy that she was accompanied.

  She tried to act completely normal. “Conall, you remember Officer Gil Harkness, the bomb technician that I work—”

  Conall cut her off, a little sharply. “Aye, I remember.” His eyes swept over Jade from head to toe, taking in her dressy, sheepskin-collared, boiled wool jacket, her hem line, and her high-heeled boots. His eyes flashed as he regarded the larger man. “Working late tonight, I see.”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Boomer retorted flatly.

 

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