Werewolves of Waresville: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 7)

by Raven Snow

  "Where's Felly?"

  Boone looked to Daniel and then said tonelessly, "My alpha welcomes you and wishes to know why you have sought us out." He paused, and when he continued, he was still speaking for Daniel. "Felly decided not to join us tonight."

  I noticed that he was weirdly talking more like Daniel—refined and without the slowness of a southern accent. It made me wonder how the bond between pack members worked and how deep it went. Would a pack member kill for its brother or sister?

  “I didn’t seek you out,” I said slowly, weighing my lies.

  I couldn’t exactly tell them about Biscuit. If pack dynamics worked anything like a real wolf pack, they wouldn’t be too friendly towards an outsider honing in on their turf. I could only hope that Biscuit didn’t come bursting out of the shrubbery and lick me from ear to ear.

  Off in the distance, probably at the park, I heard someone laugh loudly. Boone’s head snapped towards the sound, his body leaning forward. His eyes narrowed with obvious pleasure, and for a moment, I thought he was going to take off after the person.

  Then, Daniel growled again, and Boone seemed to remember himself. His hungry eyes settled on me, making me wish my stomach was empty, and I was far from this place. Jerking my chin up, I looked him straight in the eyes. Unfortunately, he seemed to like that.

  “I was here with my family. A picnic,” I said.

  Boone’s smile wasn’t friendly. “Where are they now?”

  “Harper?” Wyatt’s voice called from a while away.

  It might have been wind for all the attention Boone paid his voice, but Daniel growled a last time, making the scary man sigh.

  “My alpha bids you safe travels and a pleasant rest of the night,” Boone said, sneering. “We will wait here while you join your family.”

  I wasn’t going to get a better opportunity than that, so I turned tail and ran, not stopping until I was out of the forest. Behind me, I heard a howl coming from a human throat that made my stomach shrivel. No one came after me, though, and I was soon back by the basket where Cooper and Wyatt were gathered.

  Biscuit, looking just as floppy-eared and cheerful as ever, gave me a lick. I nudged him away, giving him a stern look. “And just where were you?”

  “Are you alright?” Wyatt whispered in my ear, turning away from Cooper, so he couldn’t see his worried face.

  I smoothed out my hair, which had a few leaves and twigs in it, willing color to return to my face. When that didn’t work, I flashed Wyatt an insincere smile.

  “Never better.”

  Wyatt wanted to press further, I could tell, but Cooper distracted us both. He and Biscuit had enacted some kind of wrestling match. I wondered if I could collect a new, undamaged kid if this one was crushed by two hundred pounds of werewolf.

  “Let’s get out of here before I die of all the fresh air.”

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, Wyatt decided to take Cooper to school. I'd been up half the night, listening to make sure Biscuit never left the bathroom. By the time morning came, the dark circles under my eyes looked permanent, and I'd taken to snarling at anyone who breathed in my direction. For those reasons, it was probably best that Wyatt took the kid. Maybe he'd be on time for once.

  While I was cleaning up the two bowls of chocolate cereal—Wyatt's and Cooper's drug of choice—Biscuit in his wolf form came stumbling down the stairs. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of them yet, but he looked chipper and rested. It made me want to chase him around with a frying pan. Was never sleeping again the price I'd have to pay for Cooper's happiness?

  "Cool it," I said, as he rushed for the doggie bowl. "I'll let you out to eat some squirrels later if you don't stray from my sight. Got it?"

  He looked docile enough, even if he was eyeing my oatmeal with the lust I usually felt towards pizza and Wyatt.

  My phone rang as I was letting Biscuit out the front door, and he politely stopped midstride. Unfortunately, he was on the front stairs, so the dumb wolf ended up toppling down the rest of them and landing as a pile of fur and elbows. I rolled my eyes at him and answered.

  "Aren't you supposed to be working?" I asked my bouncer. Jeb held a second job during the day at Hardy's, a hardware shop.

  "Hardy doesn't mind me making personal calls, Miss Harper," he said with an amused tone. "Probably on account of I never have any."

  “We need to get you a girlfriend."

  Bigger problems than that," he said. "A fed came poking around the Funky Wheel last night and cited us for health code violations. The name was...."

  Let me guess—I think I'm having one of my psychic moments," I said dryly. "Agent Kline, perhaps? Blonde hair, great butt, pain in mine?"

  “I don't know about all that, but the name does sound familiar. Long story short, we've got to close until we give the whole thing a thorough cleaning."

  I mentally tallied up the cash in my bank account and swore. "I'm going to kill him."

  "I wouldn't recommend it. The FBI's real touchy about that sort of thing."

  "Well, obviously, I was going to hire someone discreet to do it for me. You're always looking for work, right?"

  He chuckled. "I don't think I'd make a good assassin. Too hard for me to sneak up on anybody."

  "Another dream crushed," I said. "Alright, I'll be over there tonight, hopefully with reinforcements, and we'll see what we can do."

  Just then, the devil we'd been speaking of pulled up to my curb. Biscuit, too busy chasing a butterfly, was a crappy guard dog. He gave the obviously armed man one look and went back to his hunting. Snorting, I approached the big, black car that just screamed shady federal agency.

  Reaching forward, I yanked the sunglasses off Kline's face, throwing them to the side. "What's your problem, Kline? Get off on terrorizing small business owners? How very big government of you."

  He smiled pleasantly. "You didn't call. I was forced into desperate measures."

  "Men and your egos. Maybe I just wasn't interested."

  He seemed more in the mood to play my verbal sparring game today. Possibly because he was winning.

  "Well, now you've hurt my feelings and my ego. You'll have to give me a juicy tidbit to make all this go away."

  "Tit for tat, as it were."

  His smile vanished, all seriousness now. "And until you do, I'm going to make it my personal mission to turn over every rock around you. I don't suppose that dog is up to date on all his vaccinations?"

  With that, he took off, leaving my in a cloud of smoke and fury. I whistled for Biscuit to follow me back into the house, and he did without question, smelling the anger and frustration wafting from me.

  If Kline was going to go through my life with a fine tooth comb, he'd find plenty. I didn't care much for the letter or the spirit of the law. I'd often wondered if that came from where I'd grown up or if being a witch made me feel like an outsider to the whole system. Whatever the reason, I had plenty of skeletons that could get me fined at the very least.

  Pulling out my cell again, I was about to dial Wyatt when I stopped cold. My husband-to-be had a strange disliking for federal agents, and it wasn't a good idea to tell him one was harassing me. I'd have to find someone else to confide in and help me clean up my dump of a disco skate. I just hoped I wouldn't have to get rid of the raccoons in the dumpster out back. I'd named them.

  Biscuit and I rolled over to the Funky Wheel where we found a condemned notice on the front door. Baring my teeth, I ripped it down and read the violations through narrowed eyes.

  "Odor! That can't be against the law." If it was, half the buildings in the town should have been shut down.

  Strangely enough, there was nothing cited about the weed smell in the men's bathroom. It was just included under odor. Biting my lip, I wondered what kind of FBI agent couldn't recognize the telltale smell of marijuana.

  But that was the only thing that wasn't in the report. He wrote me up on the cracks in the floor and walls—all safely covered with duct tape. The fi
lth covering every surface hadn't been missed either. The biggest citation by far, though, was for my paperwork. Or lack thereof.

  It was there, grinding my teeth, that Wyatt found me. As he pulled up, I hastily shoved the piece of paper in my back pocket. He raised his eyebrows at that but said nothing. There were bigger things on his mind, and he was clearly wondering how to break some news gently.

  Just spitting it out was how he decided.

  “My mother has invited you to go look at some dresses this afternoon."

  I stared at him blankly. "Dresses?"

  "Of the wedding variety."

  Oh, god.

  "And before you say no—because saying no isn't actually an option—you should know that she's promised to behave herself." He drew me closer, not above pleading. "She's always wanted a daughter. Just humor her for an hour or so."

  "A whole hour?" I picked at the skintight material on my hot pink disco shorts. "Do you know how long it took me to pick these out? Seconds, because I stole them, and the mall security guard was coming my way."

  He gave me an un-amused look. "I'll pay for the dress if you agree to stop shoplifting."

  "It's not about the money."

  Though, perhaps, that was about to become a factor. I hadn't had to really worry about money since I left Miami. The Fancy Wheel did well enough, and I was frugal enough for years of having nothing that I was always fed and clothed. A shudder went through me at the thought of losing that hard won security.

  "Hey," Wyatt said, running his hands over my exposed arms. "Are you alright? You don't have to do this dress thing if you really don't want to." His hot breath raised goose bumps on my neck. "You can walk down the aisle naked for all I care."

  "Just so long as I walk," I said with a weak smile.

  "Exactly."

  "But imagine what the guests would think," I simpered and put a hand to my chest.

  Wyatt grinned, and suddenly, everything was alright. "Un-invite them."

  "I haven't actually invited anyone yet, so that's unnecessary. I haven't picked a date yet either," I said. "I haven't done anything."

  "That, my love, has not escaped my mother's notice." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's my fault too. I've been too busy trying to break in my new partner."

  Mouth curving, I asked, "Should I be jealous?" But I sobered up at the thought of Nancy waiting for me. "You're coming with me, right?"

  "I think it might be wise to have some kind of law service profession present."

  And since Kline was off the invite list....

  There was really only one dress shop in Waresville, and it didn't have a huge selection. Somehow, my future mother-in-law filled up the whole dressing room with puffy dresses for me to try on. The backs of my eyelids were going to be permanently imprinted with all that white.

  The owner was a nice, middle-aged woman who could have easily taken Joseph Stalin's place as the iron fist controlling Soviet Russia. The minute I walked through the door, she slapped a doughnut out of my hand, saying "no food or drink."

  And that, apparently, was just the beginning of her list of rules. There were no shoes allowed, no running, no bad posture, and certainly no sitting for the bride-to-be. I began to see that I was woefully unprepared for this wedding thing. Is it common knowledge that you need to bring heels?

  Nancy, ever prepared, had pulled a pair of six-inch pumps from her bag, handing them to me with a squeal. After that, she'd left me alone in the dressing room with the owner and hustled back to her seat, practically skipping the whole way. It was a sobering experience to see the queen of poise so beside herself.

  The woman pushed and pulled me into the first dress. It weighed at least two of me, and I felt painfully stupid in it. In the mirror, I looked like a Harper that was being swallowed by some marshmallow monster.

  Whatever my reservations about the dress, neither of the women seemed to share them. Nancy teared up at the sight of me in it, dabbing at her eyes and saying that I looked like a bride. The owner beamed proudly and had me move around in it, showing my guests the dress from every angle. One of the women from Nancy's book club—Kara was her name I think—had tagged along. She smiled at me and did a little twirling motion with her finger, and I twirled on her command. The only person not smiling was Wyatt.

  It went on like that for awhile. They had me try on every dress in the dressing room, cooing over each one and laughing with glee. Kara said I was like their perfect body, thin enough to fit into all the sample sizes. I gritted my teeth a bit at that. For most of my life, I'd stayed thin because I didn't have enough to eat.

  With each dress, Wyatt got a little grimmer, and I got a little smaller. By the end, I had half talked myself out of going through with the whole thing. How was I going to stand in front of all the guests looking like a stranger?

  "Oh, just one more dear," Nancy said when we'd exhausted the dresses in the dressing room. "I saw a darling dress with a sweetheart neckline in the window that would look perfect on you."

  "That's enough, Mom," Wyatt said, speaking his first words in hours. "Harper's had enough."

  Wyatt had taken an extra-long lunch and had to get back to work, but he asked me to follow him back to the station. My head was a million miles away in the land of taffeta and lace, so I didn't say anything, getting in the bug and following him without complaint.

  The parking lot was empty, save a few cars. Wyatt met me by my driver's side door, wrapping his arms around my waist. His face was still drawn in a frown.

  "That," he said, "was horrible."

  "What, none of them tripped your fancy?"

  He shuddered. "You could say that. Don't worry; I won't make you do that again. Mom can find another daughter-in-law to dress up."

  "That's sweet, but I think I prefer this to when she hated me," I said. "Maybe."

  He smiled and kissed me on the cheek, pulling away. "Going naked is starting to sound better and better."

  "When did I say you were allowed to go naked?" I raised an eyebrow.

  "Me in a tux and you in your birthday suit? Now, that's a picture."

  We parted then, because Wyatt's boss came out and yelled at us to stop making out in his parking lot. Wyatt shot me one last cheeky grin and rushed inside to get back to his paperwork. Only Wyatt could find that aspect of the law enjoyable.

  Biscuit's whine snapped me out of my funk. He was squirming in the front seat, looking at me with obvious accusation. I opened his door and followed him a couple of blocks to an open field. He immediately did his business and then faithfully came back to me.

  I shook my head. "No, run around a bit." I motioned to a patch of grass. "I'll just sit here."

  Watching Biscuit run wild and free was actually fun. He wasn't graceful like a normal wolf. He was tripping over his big feet and long limbs like a puppy would. Seeing him like this, it was hard to believe he was a werewolf. Certainly, no one glancing at him would be able to tell.

  No one but a werewolf, that is.

  "Miss Harper," said a familiar voice behind me.

  I spun on my butt, getting grass stains everywhere. Standing on the sidewalk with a takeout bag from a local deli, was the alpha, Daniel. His body was stiff, and he wasn't looking at me.

  Almost immediately, I felt a warm presence by my side. Biscuit, having crossed the field at an impossible speed, pressed into me, growling at Daniel. I smacked him on the nose, but it had no effect. Neither were paying me any mind.

  "Stop it, Biscuit," I said, but I was really talking to both of them. "You're part human and can control yourself."

  Daniel flinched at that, shooting me an unreadable glance. "So you are aware you're harboring a werewolf? Are you stupid or just in possession of a death wish?"

  The wind shifted, bringing me the smell of lilacs and lilies. "You smell nice," I said lamely.

  His mouth twitched. "Thank you. You smell like fabric."

  "Wedding dress shopping," I said in the way someone might say "execution" or "twenty-fiv
e to life."

  "I've had the fortune to avoid that, being a man," he said, taking a deceptive innocuous step towards Biscuit. My wolf didn't miss it, the rumbling in his body increasing.

  "Are you aware of the recent murder, Miss Harper?"

  "You can call me Harper; seems like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

  "I'll stick with Miss Harper in the vain hope that that doesn't come to pass," he said. "A James Niddle?"

  "A werewolf kill, yeah, I heard. I also saw."

  His eyebrows rose. "You sound sure. Then, you understand why I have to ask you to step away from your friend."

  I stood then, putting myself between Biscuit and Daniel, though the former whined at me for it. I wasn't sure what had prompted my loyalty. Maybe it was seeing Biscuit's own loyalty or maybe I felt bad for him after seeing how he'd been mistreated. I had a thing for strays, being one myself.

  "Why don't you look into your own pack before messing with mine," I said.

  He didn't pretend to misunderstand, shifting uncomfortably. "Boone is...disturbed, but I doubt he's behind the killing. The police wouldn't have found Niddle's body if he didn't want them to."

  "Everyone makes mistakes," I said with a bleak smile. "And Boone doesn't seem like the type to care too much about what law enforcement does and doesn't find. No, I think he'll stay at the top of my suspect list."

  Without meaning to, I'd reached down to grab the scruff of Biscuit's neck. His fur was warm and coarse, comforting and centering me. In a way, I was relieved. A showdown against a dangerous creature is far more my style than being shoved into frilly dresses. Maybe I should wear black leather and knives to the wedding. But then, black wasn't really my color.

  "Miss Harper," Daniel said, holding his hands up in a peaceful display, "you must understand my position. Werewolves killing humans like this is bad for all of us. No one would win in a war between the natural and the supernatural. I'm just trying to protect my people."

  "Biscuit didn't hurt anyone."