Melindas Wolves (26 page)

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Melinda’s eyes shot open. It was dark in the room—the middle of the night. Her mates breathed heavily at her sides, both of them with a hand over her belly. She was hot.

But the room was suddenly cool, and something had yanked her awake.

As she blinked in the darkness, adjusting to the lack of light, something caught her attention at the foot of the bed. She eased onto her elbows, her heart beating wildly.

Sure enough, they were not alone.

Neither mate moved as she took in the sight in front of her. Except for Sunday afternoon, she’d never been this close to a spirit.

She wasn’t afraid. Nothing about the cloud of darkness made her fear for her immediate safety. Like Sunday, the smoky substance seemed to organize and crowd in on itself as she watched, forming into a more solid shape. It wasn’t quite human though.

As she stared, the spirit took on a form that reminded her of a black bear on its hind legs.

The chill in the room grew more prominent as she watched the shimmering form inch closer. A shiver raced down her spine. If she wasn’t as knowledgeable, she would swear it looked right at her. Or perhaps into her.

Moments passed. She had no idea how long. Her mouth was dry. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. And besides, what would she say? She knew of no one who’d ever conversed with a spirit.

With the same slow process it had coalesced in the first place, it eventually spread out once again until she could see right through the gray smoke. It became thinner and thinner until she blinked and it was no more. A brief flicker in the room told her it was gone, the temperature rising to warm the goose bumps that had formed on her arms.

“Fuck me.”

Melinda jerked her gaze to find Keegan’s eyes wide open, staring into the space where the spirit had been.

“No shit,” Trace said on her other side. He pulled himself up to sitting as she shifted her attention to him.

She’d had no idea either mate had awoken.

Trace ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell was that?”

Keegan sat upright also. “I’d say that was a swift kick in my ass to inform me not to doubt anything our sweet mate ever says again.”

Melinda smiled and leaned into Keegan’s chest. “I don’t think the spirits much care about your personal beliefs, sweetheart. But I’m certainly glad I don’t have to spend the day trying to convince you that happened.”

“What did it mean?” Trace asked.

“No idea. But we need to be diligent.”

“I thought you said these black smoky spirits liked to hang out at the mountain peaks?” Keegan wrapped an arm around Melinda. His chest was warm, but his hand was freezing.

She dodged his fingers at the side of her breast. “That’s always been the case in the past, until Sunday when I met up with one halfway to the top on our run.”

“Was it the same one?” Trace asked.

She shrugged. “I have no idea. I saw the same thing you did.”

Keegan chuckled. “They all look alike?”

“Ha ha.” She twisted her head up to face him. “I think I for sure better make a stop by your construction site tomorrow before I go to my shop.”

“Yeah.” He eased back onto the mattress, taking her with him. “I’m just worried about what you’ll discover. Seems like you can bring more revelations to that site in a few minutes than all my inspecting has unearthed in months.”

“Careful,” Trace said as he lay back down also, setting his hand on her belly. “She’ll put you out of a job in no time.”

Melinda giggled. “Hardly think so. It’s not like we can announce to all the men working on the foundation—half of whom aren’t even lupine—that they need to be aware of black cloudy spirits coming to warn them of imminent danger.”

“What do we do?” Keegan asked.

“All I can do is keep my mind open, pay attention to the signs, and let you know what I feel. You, in turn, have no option but to find a way to heed my advice in a convincing way that won’t send people running from you to hire an exorcist.”

“Great.” Keegan kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer to his side. “I’ll never get back to sleep now.”

Melinda followed Keegan to the casino site first thing in the morning. It was early.

Most of the men hadn’t arrived yet. They’d done so intentionally.

As she shut her car door and rounded the hood to catch up, Keegan stopped moving in front of her.

She set her hand on his back. “What’s the matter?”

He shivered. “I don’t know. But I think I’ve suddenly got a bit of your mojo or something. It feels weird.” He glanced around while his hand threaded with hers, tugging her into his side.

Melinda scanned the area. It was chilly this early. She wrapped her free arm around his biceps and leaned her cheek against his arm. “I don’t see anything.”

He stepped forward, ignoring her, his attention riveted to the center of the foundation.

Melinda had a lot of difficulty envisioning what the casino was supposed to look like when complete since the only parts present so far were the concrete foundation and about a third of the wood framework.

“It doesn’t look right.” Keegan’s muttered voice was more to himself than her.

“Okay, babe. So let’s look around.” She felt the same ominous vibe as Monday, but nothing about it had increased to make her concern heighten. Whatever Keegan was seeing or sensing, she had no idea. But she sure wasn’t one to question.

Still holding her hand, tighter now, Keegan stepped closer until they stood at the very edge of the foundation. His gaze darted to the left and then the right. “Damn.”

“What?” Her heart beat faster at his obvious stress.

He pointed to a fork lift on one side. “See that lift?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not going to work without tires.”

Sure enough, it was flush against the ground, the wheels nowhere in sight.

His finger trailed to another spot. “That beam on the ground was erected yesterday.” And then he angled to the right. “Somebody has taken a sledgehammer to that pile of two-by-fours. They weren’t broken in half when I left here last night.”

“God.” She squeezed his hand tighter, unsure if her goal was to comfort him or herself.

“Can your spirits do this? Like a warning?” He swiveled to face her.

She shook her head. “Not usually, no. It’s unlikely. I think you have some human involvement here. The spirits can, however, warn about danger, human or natural.”

Had this been why the black smoke had coalesced for their view in the night?

“You should go, honey.” He abruptly pulled her away from the construction, tugging her by the arm toward their cars.

“I’m fine, Keegan. I don’t feel anything imminent. What you need to do is call the sheriff and report this damage. Somebody’s trying to make a statement here, and it will be impossible to know if they mean harm or simply aren’t in favor of the casino. Either way, this isn’t safe.”

He nodded. “I will. Right away. You go to work.”

She eyed him. “How did the tables turn so abruptly since Monday?”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he opened her car door.

“You would have given your right arm to keep me by your side. Now you want to get rid of me as if I have a disease.”

He smiled, though it was forced, and leaned down to kiss her distractedly. “Hon, I want you safe. Monday I still thought you were sort of full of shit. Now I know differently. Monday we didn’t have a dead guy on our hands who may have sent me an email to warn me about the builders. If that email turns out to be from our dead guy, we’re really going to be in trouble.”

Melinda eased into the driver’s seat. “I’ll go to work, but promise me you’ll stay in contact all day. Call me when you can. Keep me posted mentally when you have a second.”

“I will.” He kissed her lips, lingering a bit, and then leaned back to shut her door.

She watched him out of the rearview mirror until he was out of sight.

Keegan never moved from his spot, his gaze on her car the entire time.

 •●• 

Two hours later, the site was crawling with reservation deputies and employees.

The first three obvious things Keegan noticed turned into about a dozen oddities before he was done making his rounds.

Now, he stood in the conference room in the trailer with his boss, Mitch Highland, and Corbin Archers from the local sheriff’s office.

“How’s your mate?” Mitch asked politely.

“Okay. Worried.”

Mitch nodded.

Corbin pulled out a chair. “That’s right. You mated with Miles’s sister Melinda, right?”

“Yep.” Keegan smiled as he took a seat across from Corbin.

“And one of the Masters also? Did I hear that right?”

“You did indeed.”

“Crazy. What’s with those Masters boys anyway? I don’t know whether to be jealous, applaud their virility, or thank God I don’t have a mate I have to share with another man for the rest of my life.”

Keegan tried to chuckle, but it was tough under the circumstances. He shuffled papers in front of him and cleared his throat.

Before he could say a word, someone knocked lightly on the door and then opened it. Trace stepped in. “Sorry to interrupt. I could hear you three talking in here, so I let myself in.” The look on his face was serious, more than Keegan could remember seeing in recent history.

“Come on in.” Keegan pointed to the remaining free chair. “I take it this isn’t a social visit and you just wanted to see where I worked.” He gave Trace a flat grin that didn’t tip far enough at the edges to match the light banter he tried to express.

“Nope. Sorry.” Trace set a file on the table and opened it as he took a seat.

“Unfortunately we’ve determined that Nolan Friedmont was indeed the man who sent you the email last week. As of now, the Cambridge sheriff’s office will be working in conjunction with the Sojourn sheriff’s office to get to the bottom of this.”

“And you’ve been sent over to get the ball rolling,” Corbin commented as he reached for the file. At the last second he lifted a hand. “Corbin Archers. I’ll be heading up things from our end.”

Trace took his hand. “Nice to meet you. Trace Masters.”

Corbin’s eyes widened. “Ah. So you’re Keegan’s other half. I was just commenting on the mysterious ménages in your family.” Corbin winked.

Keegan knew he meant them no ill. He was simply shocked.

“I don’t think I’d describe myself as Keegan’s other half. More like a third.” He narrowed his gaze at Corbin and tipped his head. “We, uh, share Melinda, not each other,” he finished.

Corbin licked his lips and nodded. “Of course. Sorry. It’s none of my business really.”

Keegan rolled his eyes. “Archers. No worries. It’s not a secret. We aren’t bi. We simply share our mate.” If Keegan wasn’t mistaken, Corbin was a little fidgety. He shook the thought from his head as if Melinda’s ability to read people was rubbing off on him.

“Got it.”

Mitch leaned forward with an outstretched hand. “Mitch Highland. Keegan’s boss.

Nice to finally meet you.” He sat back and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s cut to the chase. What do we know about Mr.

Friedmont? And what do we do next?”

Trace stacked several pages together. “Unfortunately, according to Keegan, all evidence would suggest the man was spot on with his accusations.”

Mitch nodded.

Trace continued. “I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to determine someone was paying Friedmont to keep his mouth shut. It’s not even questionable why someone killed him. His bank records indicate he was paid an exorbitant amount of money from an unknown source for fifteen months. The deposits to his bank account stopped two months ago. Maybe he knew something he shouldn’t. Maybe he even blackmailed someone to keep quiet. That somebody may have gotten tired of paying or ran out of funds while the project was on hold.”

“Surely Friedmont would have known his life was as good as toasted if he ratted them out. Who knew about his email? And why is the man sitting in the Cambridge morgue?” Corbin asked.

“Agreed.” Keegan looked at Trace. “I’m gonna suggest we need to keep this under wraps for now. We have to assume the developer is involved. Until we know more, we’re treading on thin ice. Templeton Construction is a huge developer. They have more than fifty men in the upper echelon of their company. It’s going to be tough to ferret out who was paying Friedmont and why they decided to end his existence.”

Mitch blew out a breath. “So, we’re going to assume the builder has to be involved.”

Corbin nodded. “I don’t see who else it could be. Templeton would have been the one to want to cut corners. They stood to gain quite the financial boon in doing so. They couldn’t have done anything without somebody beneath them covering it up. And they easily would have gotten away with it if not for the earthquake, the rise of building standards, and the subsequent discovery that protocol hadn’t been followed in the first place.”

“Has anyone looked into other recent properties by the same builder?” Corbin asked.

“On it,” Trace said. “But the list is long. Templeton Construction is an enormous company. It’s going to take some time to investigate completed projects for shoddy practices.”

“Any of them local?” Corbin asked.

Keegan shivered. If he was the inspector on any project in this area that shouldn’t have received his stamp of approval after the earthquake, he could be in a heap of personal trouble.

“No idea yet.”

“So, you think someone simply killed Friedmont to get him out of their hair?”

Mitch asked.

Trace nodded. “Either that or they knew about the email. For now, we have to hope and assume the developer didn’t know the guy turned this information over to Keegan.

“It could be a coincidence. If whoever was being blackmailed by Friedmont stopped paying, the man might have gotten nervous and sloppy and decided to get back at his financer by turning him in. If the man in any way threatened the developer or gave any indication he was antsy, these guys are rich enough to have him eliminated without blinking an eye.”

Keegan agreed. But his unease that had been growing all day—ever since that damn black shadow decided to visit his bedroom in the dead of night—increased tenfold.