My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6)

by Shelley Munro

  “Yes.” Leo glanced at the door as yet another policeman strode inside.

  He questioned them, and London glared at him. “Why are you bothering us? We’ve told you where we were and given you contacts to prove our alibis. I don’t know where Henry is, but I am certain he didn’t kill my sister. Have you checked to see where her husband is? Believe me, he is capable of murder.”

  “We haven’t been able to contact him,” the policeman said.

  “And you don’t think that is suspicious?” London demanded. “Have you checked passport details or flight logs or whatever you do just in case he has left the country?”

  The policeman’s mouth firmed and he stalked outside. The second he left the café, she turned to Gerard, Leo and Isabella. “All right. What is going on?”

  “Henry is…has a condition,” Gerard said. “He doesn’t do well in captivity for long periods of time.”

  “You knew?”

  At his brief nod, she set down her menu. “You used me.”

  “No,” Gerard said.

  “No,” Isabella and Leo said at the same time.

  “Look, we can’t talk here,” Gerard said. “You’ll have to trust us.”

  London frowned. Good, honest people didn’t go around helping prisoners break out of jail. There was a right way to do this. “You didn’t consider getting bail and doing it legally?”

  “They refused bail on the grounds Henry might flee,” Isabella reminded her. “You know that.”

  She did, but hadn’t thought it mattered. They’d realize Henry hadn’t done the crime just as she had. What wasn’t she seeing? “But-but…” London trailed off when the waitress approached. “I’ll have the tomato and basil soup, please.”

  London caught Gerard’s silent communication with Leo and Isabella, and felt a tinge of pain because they hadn’t told her whatever plan they’d executed. But the truth…she might have told, since she believed in law and justice. Aiding an escape—that wasn’t right.

  Except, a little voice in her mind declared, the police weren’t doing a good job. They weren’t looking for anyone else in connection with Jenny’s murder. She’d told them about Royce. She’d informed them of the intruder trying to break into her room. The policeman in charge of the Middlemarch station had dismissed her, leaving her frustrated and angry.

  Gerard placed his order, and their meals arrived quickly. The other three chatted about various events in the district and discussed gossip regarding the Jessop girl who was running wild. Evidently her parents had washed their hands of her and reported her to a local council, whatever that meant.

  London frowned into her soup, listening with half an ear while everything that had happened in the last few days whirled through her mind. They were right to help their friend, even if they pushed against law and order to do it. Not that she’d have handled the situation this way, but part of her understood. If it had been Jenny sitting in a jail cell… Yes, they were right to help.

  “Are you ready to go?” Gerard asked.

  “What? Oh. Yes.”

  “Good. I’ll let you know how he is,” Gerard said and went off to pay the bill and collect Geoffrey.

  “Are you going to tattle on us?” Isabella asked.

  “No.” London raised her nose in the air, then felt stupid so she met their somber gazes.

  “Thank you,” Leo said. “Gerard will explain everything to you, and then you’ll understand.”

  Riddles. Secrets. She’d had enough today and couldn’t wait to crawl into bed. She could do without extra excitement since her stay in Middlemarch had been action-packed enough.

  Gerard thought of a hundred things to say on the short drive to his home, but he said none of them. The truth. He wasn’t sure how London would react to Henry’s presence, and once he revealed that truth, he’d have to give her the rest.

  He wanted to trust her, thought he knew her pretty well after their short time together. His feline wanted her and he, the man, desired her as he’d craved no other woman. Revealing his identity though—that was fraught with problems. It took a special woman to accept a man who shifted into a beast. Gerard swallowed, casting London a sidelong glance. He’d hoped he’d have more time, but Henry took precedence. He couldn’t leave his best friend sitting in jail with the approach of the full moon.

  Gerard turned into the driveway and pulled up outside the house. “Let me check in case we have an intruder.”

  Geoffrey barked, scrambled off London and shot out the driver’s side door the instant Gerard opened it. He’d scented Henry.

  “Holy sugar,” London whispered, her gaze glued to something outside. “Where did that dog come from? He’s huge. Shouldn’t you call Geoffrey in case—”

  Before she could finish Geoffrey hurtled at Henry with a joyous bark. He ran in a circle then crouched in a play-with-me stance. Gerard smiled at the little dog’s excitement.

  “Geoffrey knows him.”

  “But where was he before? He’s so big. He looks like a wolf.”

  “That’s what I need to tell you,” Gerard said, his stomach bucking with those pesky nerves, even though he knew he didn’t have a choice. Henry sidled closer after a wary glance at London. Geoffrey kept trying to entice his friend to play. “Come inside.” He spoke to both London and Henry.

  “What about the wine?”

  “I’ll grab it,” Gerard said, pleased for the opportunity to order his thoughts. Honesty. He needed to lay out the truth. He turned away to grab the box of wine they’d purchased at the vineyard and almost dropped it when London let out a terrified squeak.

  “G-good doggy,” she said. “S-stay outside.”

  Gerard regained his grip on the box and joined London. “He won’t hurt you, and he’s house-trained.”

  Henry let out a snarl at that, and Gerard grinned. Tetchy.

  “He wasn’t here before.”

  “English, go inside. He won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  London yawned and belatedly slapped a hand over her mouth. “It’s only seven thirty and I’m exhausted.”

  “We’ll have a nightcap. I have brandy or whisky.”

  “A brandy sounds good. I might have a quick shower first. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. Don’t use all the hot water.” In other circumstances he’d have taken a shower with her, but he needed to speak with Henry.

  Henry cocked his head and gave a low growl. London squeaked and ran behind Gerard. Geoffrey growled, his wiry body freezing, the hair along his spine rising to attention. Gerard wrapped his arms around London as he heard the foreign sound outside too.

  “Stay here,” he said to London. He clicked his fingers at Henry. “Guard.”

  Henry growled deep in his throat, not wanting to stay with London.

  “Guard,” Gerard reiterated the order. “Need someone with two legs outside, bud.”

  Henry’s growls subsided, and he planted himself between London and the door plus the windows overlooking the garden.

  Gerard heard another faint scuffing outside and prowled to the door. He inched it open and let Geoffrey out before he followed. Cops or someone else? The cops would arrive in force if they suspected him of hiding Henry. Geoffrey barked, and Gerard heard a faint yelp of pain then running footsteps. Geoffrey continued to bark but Gerard called him back, not wanting the dog to get injured. The terrier came unwillingly and an instant later, a vehicle started up. Once it accelerated away, Gerard returned inside with Geoffrey at his heels.

  “Someone was skulking around outside,” he said. “I wonder if it was the same person who tried to break into the bed-and-breakfast last night.”

  “But that would mean they followed us,” London said.

  “Yes. Don’t go anywhere alone, okay? Take one of the dogs with you.”

  Henry growled another complaint as he parked his butt on the kitchen tiles. Geoffrey trotted over to sit beside Henry.

  “You know what,” London said. “I don’t think it will be safe in the shower on m
y own.” She whipped off her pink T-shirt to show a low-cut lacy bra. “You should come and guard my body there.” She dropped the T-shirt on a barstool and reached behind her to unclip her bra.

  “Henry,” Gerard snapped as the front of the bra dipped to reveal creamy curves.

  Henry made the werewolf version of a laugh—a sort of hacking growl—and to Gerard’s relief, turned away.

  London stopped undressing. “Why do you call him Henry?”

  Henry took the decision out of his hands and shifted.

  “Because it is Henry,” Gerard said and turned London in Henry’s direction.

  “But—” She scowled at Henry and moved closer to Gerard as Henry’s change proceeded.

  Soon, Henry stood in front of them. Big, human and naked.

  “He’s naked,” London said.

  “Don’t look,” Gerard ordered.

  “I’m better looking than you,” Henry said in a gruff voice.

  “He’s a wolf?”

  “Yes, a werewolf.”

  “But I thought they weren’t real.”

  Henry clicked his fingers. “Right in front of you. Careful, you might hurt my feelings.”

  “Is this what we needed to discuss? Did Jenny know?”

  “Yes,” Gerard said.

  “Jenny didn’t know yet, but I’d intended to tell her. We hadn’t known each other long. I thought I had time.” Henry’s face went hard. “Car,” he said and shifted to wolf and went to lay on the rug.

  Geoffrey ran to the door and barked while London fastened her bra and fumbled her way through putting on her T-shirt.

  Someone hammered on the door. Gerard recognized a voice. “Cops,” he whispered.

  Henry is a werewolf. This was the secret and the reason behind the jail breakout? She dragged in a shuddering breath and tried not to stare. At Henry. But her gaze had a mind of its own and she gripped the kitchen counter while gawking at the man-wolf. Henry was a werewolf…

  “We have a warrant to search your house,” a masculine voice said.

  London watched Henry, the wolf, bristle, heard him give a low growl. Geoffrey trotted to his side and stretched out beside him. Henry curled in a tight ball, the action making him seem smaller.

  “Ms. Allbright,” the policeman acknowledged her while she cast a nervous glance in Gerard’s direction. “I thought you were residing at the bed-and-breakfast.”

  “They had bookings, and I had to move. I told the other policeman that this morning.”

  “He didn’t mention it.”

  And probably hadn’t revealed the rest of what she’d told him either. “Why are you here? What do you want?” Anger sharpened her voice.

  “We’re searching for Henry Anderson, your sister’s murderer. He escaped earlier today, but I’m sure you know that already.”

  “I heard there was a problem,” she said.

  “I hope we’re not interrupting,” the cop said, and he sniggered.

  London scowled as he moved away. “What is his problem?”

  Gerard’s gaze swept her, his mouth twitching. “Your T-shirt is inside-out and you’ve got it back-to-front.”

  She groaned as she spied the label at her chin. “Sugar, no wonder he was smirking at me.”

  “I haven’t seen that dog before,” one cop said.

  “He’s old. I don’t take him out much since he prefers to stay at home.”

  The cop skirted the two dogs. Henry kept his eyes closed, but he didn’t fool London. She’d bet he was wide awake and ready to strike, should the cops make a wrong move.

  The two cops returned to the kitchen after searching the rest of the house.

  “Stay here while we search the outbuildings. I’ll let you know when we’re leaving.”

  “He’s not here,” London said in a tired voice.

  “We haven’t searched the outbuildings yet,” the closest cop said.

  “You won’t find anything,” Gerard said. “This is harassment. Neither of us were in Middlemarch today.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” The cop straightened, his belly leading the way as he swaggered from the kitchen to conduct the rest of his search.

  London sniffed. “Those two are idiots.”

  “We should have a drink while we wait for them to finish.”

  “Good idea,” she said.

  They were both sipping brandy when the two cops returned, one holding a folded sheet of paper.

  “Have you seen this before?” he asked.

  “No,” Gerard said.

  “Have you?” the cop asked. “It’s got your name on it.”

  “Me?” London asked. “No one knows I’m here.”

  He handed her the paper, and she spread it out on the counter. Written in block printing, the note said, I know what you’ve done. You won’t get away with it. I will get what is owed to me.

  London scowled at the cop. “What is this?”

  “What have you done?” the cop countered.

  “Nothing. I came to New Zealand on holiday, and because of my sister’s murder I’m staying longer than intended.” Pompous ass. London reread the note and was none the wiser. She didn’t recognize the writing. She hadn’t committed a crime. Sugar, she hadn’t even known Gerard’s friends had broken Henry out of jail until after the event.

  “We’re done here. If you hear from Mr. Anderson, you should contact us. It is a crime to hide a fugitive.”

  Both she and Gerard remained silent as the cop paused, waiting for a response.

  “We haven’t done anything,” London snapped when it seemed as if the cop might linger. “I’m tired and could do with an early night. It’s been a stressful few days.”

  “Call us if you learn Mr. Anderson’s whereabouts.”

  “Yes, yes,” London said when Gerard didn’t answer. She could feel his tension. He didn’t want the cops in his house.

  The cop left and they heard a vehicle start. Henry unrolled from his ball and Geoffrey climbed to his feet.

  “If you’re shifting again, do it in your room and put on clothes.” Gerard glared at Henry.

  Henry let out a weird bark and shifted anyway. London couldn’t help taking a peek. Henry was a big man. All over.

  A hand shielded her sight without warning.

  “Don’t be a party-pooper,” she complained, trying to remove Gerard’s hand from in front of her eyes.

  “He’s worried you’ll kick his arse to the door,” Henry rumbled.

  “You look very nice naked,” London said in a prim voice. “But I like Gerard better.”

  “Yes!” Gerard’s fingers flexed against her face. “On that note, let’s take that shower.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. She caught the movement once she’d pried Gerard’s hand away from her eyes.

  “I’m sorry you ended up in the middle of this mess. I know you weren’t responsible for Jenny’s death.”

  “No, I’m not,” Henry gritted out. “I asked your sister to stay with me. She was my mate.”

  “Your mate?”

  “Werewolves mate for life if they find the right woman. Soul mates,” Gerard explained.

  “Yes.” Henry’s voice emerged with a serve of grittiness and emotion. “When I met Jenny I knew she was the one for me.”

  Jenny had said nothing, not that they’d had much of a chance to talk before the race. “I’m glad, Henry. It’s good she was happy.”

  “She didn’t tell me much about her husband. Had other things to discuss.”

  “He’s a bastard,” London said. “She changed her will in my favor. I found a copy when I packed her stuff.”

  Henry nodded. “She did say she couldn’t wait to divorce him.”

  “Someone tried to break into her room last night.” Gerard said.

  “Jenny hated her husband. I know that. She said once he hit her, she knew she had to get out of the marriage. It took longer than she wanted.” Henry growled. “If I get my hands on that bastard, there will be a murder.”

  “London check
ed with Jenny’s friends at home. None of them have seen the man. He’s not at work. Supposedly sick. No one has seen him at his flat,” Gerard commented.

  Henry scowled. “The bastard is here in Middlemarch, I tell you. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  London froze at the chilling notion. “Here?” She’d been trying not to think of the possibility.

  “Do you have photos of him? Are there any online?” Gerard asked.

  London checked her watch. “I’ll ring Susan after my shower. She might have one of their wedding photos since she was a bridesmaid.”

  “The police didn’t say where they found the note,” Henry said.

  Gerard snorted. “They didn’t seem worried. Please don’t go out without me or Henry.” The two men shared a glance. “Henry will be in wolf form until the cops drop the charges. At least while he’s away from the house. Promise me?”

  London didn’t hesitate, not with the terror of someone trying to enter her bedroom still fresh in her mind. “Yes, I promise.”

  “I’m rested. Geoffrey and I’ll take first watch.”

  “Thanks,” Gerard said.

  “Thank you, Henry.” London drew in a breath, searched her heart and recalled the happy sparkle on Jenny’s face, Henry’s smile on the morning of the race as he gazed at her sister. “I’d have loved having you for a brother-in-law.”

  “Even though I’m a werewolf?”

  “Um…I’m not sure my mind has registered that properly. Can I ask you questions tomorrow?”

  Henry flashed a grin, tinged with sadness. “Of course. Gerard might answer them for you.”

  “Now I’m curious.” London laced her fingers with Gerard’s, the heat frisking her body no longer taking her by surprise. The physical contact comforted her and felt right.

  “Now I’m worried. Thanks, buddy.”

  Once Henry and Geoffrey trotted outside, Gerard turned to her, concern written in his expression. “Are you okay with Henry? You’re not frightened of him?”

  “It might take me a while to get used to him turning furry at will. And if he shows me his sharp teeth and whispers, ‘All the better to eat you, my dear,’ I’ll hit first and ask questions later.”

  Gerard barked out a laugh, but she wasn’t joking. Things were bad enough without adding strange woo-woo factors into the mix. A werewolf. She’d thought them the stuff of myth and legend. Wait. If werewolves were real, did that mean—