Wendy knew darned well who Ashley was to me. Her gaze bounced back and forth between us, like we were involved in a tennis match. She managed to draw herself up and return the calm look I gave her.
Needing an extra moment before I dealt with the sibling I hadn’t spoken to since our parents disowned me, I called the assistant back. “Oh Wendy? I know we’re a bit crazy with the election, but please get a computer tech in here as soon as possible. This new system is completely unworkable, especially for members of Tristan’s committee.”
Wendy’s lips quirked in a smirk. “I’ve been waiting for official authorization on that. I’ll get on it this very moment, Ms. Keith. Thank you.” She left.
Hey, I finally made someone happy. At least one of us was. I still had to deal with Ashley.
I made myself look at her. Wow, she looked great. Red hair expertly styled, slender health club figure, face showing a few careworn lines but still looking more twenty-something than the early thirties she’d attained – Ashley was every bit the society lady our parents had wanted. She even managed to make mom-friendly jeans and a t-shirt topped with a tuxedo-cut jacket look uptown. Her favorite scent, sweet but elegant, wafted to me. I barely managed to keep from leaning over the desk to see her shoes. I bet on sensible but expensive flats or kitten-heels.
I motioned to one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. Trying to sound unconcerned I invited, “Won’t you sit down, Ms. –?”
Darn if I didn’t almost say her name. Patricia and Ashley had never met that I was aware of, though my sister had been the sole member of my family to attend my funeral. Patricia would have known who Ashley was in any case. It wouldn’t have been a complete flub if I’d identified her. No way she’d know it was me ... but wanting to keep it that way meant I’d be as careful as possible.
Ashley held out a perfectly manicured hand for me to shake. “Ashley Payson-Warner. Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Keith.”
I shook her hand and tried not to feel how warm she was. Meeting with your twin sister who thinks you’re some other undead person? Awkward. Jonesing for her blood? Really awkward.
Ashley settled ladylike into her chair and I gathered my composure. “This is my colleague Gerald Clark. I can excuse him if you’d rather.”
She looked at the big werepanther, and I was impressed to see no fear. It’s not as if someone like Ashley comes in contact with shifters every day. They’re below her social status.
Her answer surprised me even more. “Let Mr. Clark stay. He may have insight into my problem.”
I blinked. Well, this was getting more bizarre by the second. Ashley seemed determined to throw me off my composure. I doggedly refused to allow her to do so. “Can I offer you something to drink, Mrs. Warner?”
She looked away from Gerald to stare intently at me. “No, thank you. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. In fact, I doubt you can help me, but you do have contacts with the shifter population, and I—”
She glanced again at Gerald and shocked us both by bursting into tears. The werepanther gave me as close to a scared look as the big man could.
Ashley moved a hand in his direction, as if to reach for him. “Can you tell me? Ever since it happened, he won’t talk to me. He says I could never understand and maybe I can’t, but at least let me try!”
Gerald looked at me helplessly and I shrugged. I remembered now that the last time I’d seen Ashley, it had been three months ago. She’d been sitting in a park crying. Whatever had gone wrong then was apparently getting no better.
I called to her in the gentlest voice I could manage. “Mrs. Warner. Mrs. Warner? Ashley?”
My sister visibly fought for control. She pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket and dabbed at her eyes. She looked at me and reddened. “I am so sorry, Ms. Keith. Sir.”
Gerald smiled a little at the ‘sir’. “Gerald would be fine, ma’am.”
“What’s happened to get you so upset? What can I do to help?” I asked.
Ashley swallowed. “This past year has been awful. First my sister died. We’d been estranged. I can’t express the guilt I felt over that. And then – and then my husband contracted the Zoo Flu.”
My mouth dropped open. Ashley’s perfect parent-approved husband had been infected? Holy smokes.
I was in too much shock to react right away. It was Gerald who dropped to one knee next to my twin. “He survived?”
She nodded. “Ryan is a werebear now.”
Gerald patted her arm. “I’m sorry. It’s a big blow when someone you love turns into one of us.”
Ashley’s head raised and her shoulders went back. In a firm tone she told us, “Ryan is alive, and that’s all that matters. I refused to divorce him, although everyone said I should. He’s a good man and a wonderful father.”
Whoa. The surprises kept coming in faster and faster. I could well imagine my status-conscious parents being the ones to demand Ashley leave her husband. In fact, I could guarantee they had. And Miss Perfect and Obedient had refused them? Wow and wow again.
I wondered if dear old Dad and Mom had disowned Ashley as they had me. I didn’t know how close my sister was to her in-laws. Had she and her family been cast out to navigate the waters of sudden change on their own?
With that in mind I asked, “Does your husband need a mentor, Ash – um, Mrs. Warner?”
She offered a shaky smile. “Actually, I think I could use one. The beginning was hard, but we got through it. We were adjusting to the changes once Ryan began recovering.”
“Pretty big changes,” I muttered, knowing how vicious certain circles of Fulton Falls’ society could be.
Ashley’s smile turned grim. “They certainly were. But we had each other and hung in despite how ugly people got. Our son’s private school asked us to find another place for him. Ryan lost his private practice, of course – he was a pediatrician. But the para wing of the hospital welcomed him to their staff.”
Ah, the bigotry run rampant. Unfortunately it was the one thing that hadn’t surprised me so far.
Ashley continued. “We adjusted. We had our bad days, but we picked up the pieces and made a new life, a good one. A few of our old friends stuck by us, and the shifters were kind and ready to help. We were doing fine until the phone calls started coming a couple weeks ago.”
We were finally getting to why she’d shown up at my door. “Phone calls?”
Ashley got a steely look in her face that I’d never seen from her. “From that awful man trying to take your brother’s seat on the county commission.”
“Cliff Tattingail?” But he hated shifters. Why would he be calling Ashley’s husband?
I asked that question. Ashley wavered between a scowl and refreshed grief. “Ryan says it’s old business, something from way back that needs to be squared away. But each time he gets one of these calls, a couple of nights later he leaves without telling me where he’s going. It’s happened three times now.”
“And he won’t explain?”
“Ryan says his going out has nothing to do with that old snake handler. He says it’s about being a shifter, that he has to run with his kind. He says it’s too embarrassing to discuss and insists I drop the subject.”
Gerald looked at her with confusion. “I’m not much in the loop when it comes to the bear shifters, but I’m not aware of them getting together that often. I mean, we have support groups and such, but we don’t go baying at the moon or hunting rabbits.”
Ashley grabbed his hand and held onto it. “You see, that’s what I thought. I’ve made inquiries with a few shifters who offered to help us when Ryan first got sick, and they don’t know anything about it either. Especially the werebears.”
Ryan Warner’s strange situation had me thinking about the missing shifters I was investigating. Family man, good job ... I’m not so dense that I can’t pick up a clue or two. With mounting hope I asked, “Where do you think he’s going?”
Her eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t even guess an
d he refuses to tell me. I’m scared, Ms. Keith. Two weeks ago, Ryan insisted we update our wills and he took out a ton of life insurance on himself. He tells our son Jesse ... he’s only five ... that he’s got to be the man of the house if anything happens to him. What kind of talk is that?”
Gerald’s brows drew down. “The worst kind. It sounds like your husband is giving up – but for the regular disappearances.”
I added, “And phone calls from Tattingail, who despises all things para. Ashley – I mean, Mrs. Warner, is it possible Tattingail might think he has something to blackmail your husband with?”
Gerald shot me a look. Good, he knew where my suspicions were heading.
For her part, Ashley seemed startled. “Well I – I can’t imagine Ryan doing anything wrong. He’s always been a rock, a real pillar of the community. There was that one thing – nothing big, of course, just a little thing really—”
When she hesitated I urged her on. I smelled smoke and I wanted to find the fire. “What?” When she bit her lip with indecision I added, “Nothing you tell us leaves this office. You have my word on it, champ.”
Something flickered in Ashley’s eyes. She regarded me for a few seconds, as if weighing the heavy things in her mind. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders anew before speaking.
“A couple of years ago, there was an illegal gambling ring in the area.”
I nodded. “I remember that. A bunch of convenience stores around town had slot machines and tiny casinos in the back of their businesses. It was big news for this little town when the cops took it down.”
Ashley kept staring at me in that intent way. “Ryan liked to play. He thought it was harmless fun, but the games were rigged. After a little while, he found himself in debt to the people running the thing. I found out when one of their thugs showed up at our door demanding money.”
That was what, Shocker Number 500 for the night? Ashley had been through the wringer with her parent-approved marriage. For the girl who had always done what was expected of her, she hadn’t reaped many rewards.
Hoping the news would get better at some point I asked, “He wasn’t taken down with that group, was he?”
Ashley sighed and shook her head. “By then, he’d paid up and stopped playing. He swore to me he’d never do anything like that again and I’m certain he stuck by it.”
I spoke more to Gerald than Ashley. “It doesn’t sound much like something a blackmailer could hold over his head.”
He agreed. “Being a shifter carries more scandal than playing blackjack in the back of a store.”
My sister wrung the tattered tissue in her hands. “I don’t know what to think. My family is falling apart. Though you have no reason to care,” she swallowed hard when she said that, “I don’t know who else to turn to.”
I fell quiet for a few moments while I turned the matter over in my head. Ryan Warner had done some piddly gambling. Gotten into a little monetary trouble with thugs. It wasn’t much. But a man who could trip up a little and keep it quiet might have something even bigger in his past. Something a blackmailer might use against him.
The situation had too many similarities to our shifter problem to be ignored. It might turn out Ashley’s husband was involved in something else ... maybe a shifter girlfriend? But I had the gut feeling he was in big trouble.
And Cliff Tattingail could be involved. Wouldn’t I love to find some reason to string that self-righteous prick up by his balls!
I gave Ashley an encouraging look. “I can’t promise you anything, Mrs. Warner. However this matter may be linked to something else we’re looking into. We’ll see what we can find out and I’ll get back to you.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” The waterworks turned on again, spilling tears down her cheeks. Gerald offered Ashley a hand up and she took it without hesitation. Whatever shortcomings my sister might have, bigotry against shifters didn’t seem to be among them.
She dabbed her eyes with one hand while digging into her light blue Prada clutch. She withdrew a card and handed it to me. “My phone number if you need to reach me, Ms. Keith. Again, I can’t thank you enough.”
I took the gold-embossed card. “It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Warner. Give us a few days to check into some things.”
“Of course.” She thanked me yet again, looking at me like I might answer all her prayers. Great, no pressure.
Gerald and I listened to her footsteps recede down the hall. She wore denim kitten heels, too cute to be believed. What? I love shoes.
The werepanther looked at me when we couldn’t hear her any longer. “Tattingail. I’d love to find out that piece of garbage has something to do with our missing shifters.”
I mentally rubbed my hands together. This could shape up to be the break we were hoping for. “We need to find out if my sister’s husband has something besides some old bad debts and illegal gambling hanging over his head. Something really juicy.”
Gerald cleared his throat. “About your sister, Brandilynn—”
I shut him down fast. “Ashley doesn’t need to know it’s me. When my parents disowned me, she went along with it. They told her to cut me out of her life and she obeyed. She always did what they wanted, no matter what.”
“You agreed to help her. There must still be something there.”
I didn’t want to talk about it. Old hurts surfaced, bringing anger with them. “She came to my funeral. I’ll cut her a little slack for that.”
He looked at me like he knew better. He did not. “I remember that. When the woman who looked like the pictures of you in the newspaper walked up to the casket, I thought I’d gained the ability to see ghosts. You were identical twins.”
“Not really. Our eyes are different colors. And we are nothing alike in personality. I never would have turned my back on her if things had been reversed. I don’t owe her anything ... but I’ve seen her kid. He’s an innocent in all of this.”
I thought about little Jesse. He was what, five years old? Too young to be dealing with the awfulness of his dad nearly dying and then being condemned to be a shifter for the rest of his life.
I’d seen my nephew the same day I’d come upon Ashley crying in the park. The little guy looked a lot like my sister ... and therefore, a lot like me. It was jarring to think I might have had a son had I lived long enough.
I shook off a wave of sadness. There was no point in thinking of all the might-have-beens that death had denied me. Things were the way they were and nothing would change that. I had to worry about the matters I could do something about.
I told Gerald, “I think I’m going to be hanging out at the hospital’s para wing come daylight. Maybe Ryan Warner’s deep, dark secret will reveal itself and we’ll get some answers for Ashley and our shifters.”
Before he could reply, loud yells drifted through the open door from elsewhere in the hotel. It sounded like cheers. We exchanged a look.
I blurted, “Oh my gosh. Do you think—?”
I didn’t bother to finish the statement. I bolted out from behind my desk to join Gerald in running down the hall towards Para Central.
We entered the ballroom in time to be showered in silver and black confetti. People jumped up and down, laughing and crying and cheering. It was celebratory pandemonium.
Behind falling bits of paper Gerald grinned at me. “I think Tristan won.”
I laughed though my quiet heart lurched a little. Even when touched by grief, one couldn’t help but smile with all the triumph surrounding us. “I think you’re right. I guess we better join our newest state senator.”
We wove our way through the crowd. Those who didn’t know or didn’t care that Patricia’s body was under new management – mostly shifters and gargoyles – patted my shoulders as I passed. Calls of congratulations rang in my ears. I held my smile despite the initial feeling of success receding. Tristan had won. He would be leaving soon. Any hopes of real conciliation were dead.
I waded through the throng and gained t
he stage. As the only person who saw Dan, I nodded to him. He gave me a wink and a thumbs-up. He was probably glad to know Tristan would be going soon. Even though the competition between the men had been settled, it was no doubt a relief to have real closure in the matter.
He walked over to me and yelled so I could hear him over the victory yells. “With over 80 percent reporting in, Tristan squeaked ahead. Cooper conceded though the race was tight enough that he could have called for a recount and slowed things up.”
“The man is a gentleman,” I acknowledged. Emory Cooper really was. He’d not based any of his campaign in a ‘norm vs. para’ way.
“I agree. You don’t see that too often these days,” Dan said. “Tristan will come out momentarily – here he is.”
I looked toward the back of the bandstand. Tristan emerged from behind the curtains with Taylor at his side.
Their gazes immediately settled on my face. Taylor blanched as she always did when confronted with her girlfriend’s body. However Tristan smiled and held out his arms.
I went to him, the dutiful and proud sister for the members of the press who looked on. We hugged and brushed cold lips against each other’s cheeks as Taylor stepped aside.
Tristan spoke in my ear as we continued to embrace. “I wasn’t sure it would happen. It was close right up to the end.”
“Congratulations, Tristan. I’m happy for you.” No tears clogged my voice. I deserved a gold star.
My former sweetheart pulled back and looked at me. Sadness brushed over his face, and I wondered which woman he saw at that moment.
He said, “Thank you. Thank you for – well, for being patient with me. I’ve failed you too many times to count now, but you’ve risen above that.”
I couldn’t stop myself from brushing my thumb over his cheek. “You know she would have been proud of you, Tristan. She would have been bursting with it.”
He nodded, sorrow again touching his expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor turn and take a few more steps away. She’d heard what I’d said.
Tristan regained his composure. “I’m going to ask you to play along one last time, sweetheart. For those who we don’t want to know.”
Animal Attraction Page 10
