Moon Lovers Box Set (BBW Werewolf Romance) (9 page)

Cranston leaned down beneath the sill and examined something. "Looks to me like your guy climbed up, but I've never seen a guy able to grip into brick like your guy did here."

Cartwright snapped his fingers. "That's probably how the guy got on the roof!"

Cranston leaned back into the room, glanced over his shoulder and scowled at the man. "Who are you?"

Cartwright cringed at the rough voice. "I-I got Tasha off the roof," he explained to the cop.

"Did you see this 'hero' that saved Miss Taylor?"

"Yeah, he was a big dog."

"Large dog," I corrected him.

Cranston frowned. "A dog carried you up the fire escape and onto the roof?" I nodded. "All after saving you by jumping through this window and tossing the other guy out?"

"Yep," I replied with perfect seriousness.

The officer took off his hat and wiped his brow. "It's too late for your bullshit, Miss Taylor, and yours, too, bub," he replied, addressing Cartwright.

Cartwright bristled at the title. "I ain't no bub. My name's Brad Cartwright, and I know what I saw. It was a hairy dog that had Tasha over its shoulder. It ran into the bedroom and I saw it disappear with her over the top of the roof."

Cranston pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced over to Greg. "And what do you know about this?"

Greg held his hands up in front of him and had a smile on his face. "I'm only here to assess the damage before your boys make a worse mess," he explained.

"We don't make messes, we fix 'em up," Cranston shot back. "And this one's gonna take a hell of a lot longer than the laundry room, so you're going to have to move out, Miss Taylor."

"She can move in with me," Cartwright eagerly offered. He had a lecherous look in his eyes that made me shudder.

"I have a spare cot in my apartment," Greg spoke up. I smiled. That was the second time that night he'd rescued me from certain doom. I'd have to start calling him my Furry angel.

"Miss Taylor can stay wherever she wants so long as she doesn't leave this building," Cranston replied as he turned to me. "Is there anything else you can tell us about this man who attacked you and the one who rescued you?"

I shook my head. "The guy didn't say anything to me, and it all happened so fast that I don't think I could recognize the other guy in a lineup."

"I could give you a description of him," Cartwright offered.

Cranston turned to him with new respect and interest. He flipped out his notepad and pencil. "Can you? I'd like as much detail as possible."

"Well, he was a big fellow with some sort of fur coat all over his body, and maybe some furry pants. I didn't see most of his face, but I think he had a mask on because he looked funny." Cartwright gestured with his hand to show a stretched face. "You know, all long like a dog's snout. He was tall, too, and strong because he had her on his shoulder no problem."

Cranston wrote down the details and glanced at me. "What can you tell me about after he took you up on the roof?"

"Not much. He heard Mr. Cartwright yelling from the fire escape and ran off across the peak of the roof."

The officer turned to Greg. "And where were you all this time?" he asked him.

"Downstairs in my apartment. I came up when I heard the fifth floor groaning under all the weight of the people," Greg replied.

"How can a normal person get to the attic?" Cranston wondered.

"Through a hole in the fifth floor ceiling," Cartwright spoke up. "I can show you where it is."

"Then show me and quit with the showing off," Cranston ordered. A sullen expression slipped onto Cartwright's face, but he turned to lead the way.

"Does Miss Taylor need to come? She doesn't look well," Greg asked the officer. I didn't feel so well, either. The shock was wearing off and after that bandanna guy knocked me around I felt like a punching bag at a cheap gym.

"She can go wherever she wants in the apartment building just so long as she doesn't leave," Officer Cranston insisted.

"I'll take her to my room," Greg agreed before Cartwright could renew his offer. Greg wrapped his arms around me and turned me to the hallway, but we had one more unpleasant bit of news.

"Officer Brandy, stand outside the door and don't let anyone go in there," Cranston ordered his lieutenant. My paranoia was now as bad as Greg's, so I didn't take this armed guard as a comfort. Greg felt me shudder and gave me a squeeze of comfort. Then he led us down to the basement and into his abode, but he stopped the officer from entering.

"You should probably stay out here. The only way into the place is through the hallway," he told Brandy.

"Good to know," Brandy replied with a smile. He leaned back against the wall beside the entrance, and Greg shut the door behind us.

"Is there really-" He put his hand over my mouth and glanced over to the door.

"A little quieter. That door is thinner than his skull," he advised me, and pulled away his hand.

"That's not saying much, and is there really only one way out of here?" I whispered, and was glad when he shook his head.

"There's an escape through my bedroom. It's the crawlspace for the building," he told me.

"In your bedroom?" I repeated. He nodded. "That's a strange place to put your bedroom."

"I did that on purpose in case I'd need a quick escape."

"In your pajamas?"

"My enemies aren't particular about my dress when they attack."

"Must be an epic battle with you in your briefs."

"Boxers, actually."

"My mistake." During our bantering he guided me over to the hard couch and sat me down.

"You should be comfortable here until I get back," he told me.

I bounced up and down on the cushion, or at least I tried to. It moved like a boulder. "I'm not sure if comfortable is the right word."

"Safe, then."

"That's a little more true except for the guy standing out there. You really sure the police are in on it?" I didn't want to believe it, but Greg seemed to know a lot more about intrigue than I did.

"I'm more sure than ever."

"Why?"

"Because Cranston ordered you to stay here during the investigation even though he knows it isn't safe. He wants to know where you are so the Green Bandannas can get you."

"I wish you were wrong-"

"-but you know I'm right."

"Yeah, that's the bad part, though not as bad as you turning into a werewolf. Mind giving me some more details on that?" I asked him.

Greg shook his head and stood up. "Not until after I see what the kind Officer Cranston is learning on the roof," he insisted. "I don't want him putting two and two together and actually coming up with four."

"Don't be gone too long," I replied.

Greg smiled. "Missing me already?"

"Are you always so modest?"

"Only when it comes to flirting."

I rolled my eyes and nodded at the door. "To be honest I don't want to be left alone with that guy out there."

"I doubt they'll try another attack on you tonight," Greg comforted me.

"Just in case, could you show me this crawlspace?" I suggested.

"All right, but I bet you won't need it tonight," he insisted. He led me down the narrow hall past the storage room with its strange contents and to a door on the back wall. Greg opened it and guided me into what can only be described as a well-lived-in bachelor pad, complete with unmade bed, piles of dirty clothes dating from pre-history, and even a lava lamp. I paused in front of a poster that had a woman in a bathing suit. She was surprisingly
not
skinny as a rail.

I turned to Greg, who stood close to the bed in the far corner of the room, and jerked my thumb at the picture. "How'd you manage to find a model that didn't resemble a window shade?"

"A lot of searching," he told me.

"So you, uh, you really get your kicks out of chubby girls?" I asked him.

He smirked. "Didn't you trust me that my intentions were pure toward you?"

"I still don't think your intentions are pure, I just believe them now," I countered.

"Not every guy wants a skeleton beside him in bed and where every hug is like sticking your arms around a pointy twig," he pointed out.

"A lot easier to grab than a mass of jello," I replied.

"And healthier for you, but what guy wants a healthy snack?" he teased.

I remembered his long, sharp teeth and shuddered. "Are werewolves particular about who they snack on?"

Greg sighed, walked over to me, and put his hands on my shoulders. "You honestly think I've saved you twice just so I can eat you?"

I smiled and shrugged. "Maybe you don't like sharing your food with anyone else."

"I think you're a delicious treat, but food hunger isn't what I want you to satisfy," he told me. I glanced up into his face and blushed when I saw the heated, lustful look in his eyes.

"You're a real animal, you know that?" I teased him.

He smirked. "All too well, but let me show you the escape hole so I can see what trouble those idiots are causing upstairs." He took my hand and led me over to the bed where he climbed onto the mattress and pulled aside a painting to reveal a metal grate. "That's where it is. It leads to the alley outside your windows." I climbed up beside him and glanced between the grates. A faint light from the streets lay at the end of a short tunnel where sat another grate.

Then I noticed something, and held up my hands against either side of the walls. I lowered my hands to my hips, being careful to keep the same distance between them. "Um, there's not much clearance room for me."

Greg lecherously smiled. "Good, I like my women with thick hips."

"Hoping for some tasty thighs?" I teased.

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking," he countered. Greg let go of the painting and hid the hole again. "But that will have to wait until I get back."

"And you'll hurry?" I asked him.

Greg gently clasped my hands in his and pulled me up against him. "I promise," he whispered. He leaned down and caught my lips in a hot, passionate kiss that took my breath away. When we broke apart even he was gasping for air.

"What was that for?" I asked him.

"To seal the promise with a kiss," he teased. "But like I said, I don't think they'll try again a second time."

Chapter 11

With that done I followed Greg out into the hall where we found Office Brandy sipping on some of his namesake. He quickly hid the bottle in his coat vest and smiled at us. "Something you two need?" he asked us.

"I was just going to see if Officer Cranston needed some help upstairs," Greg replied.

Brandy nodded at me. "Is she coming, too?" he wondered.

"She'll stay here until I get back. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes," Greg told him. Famous last words.

"Then I'll stay here and protect her, so you don't need to lock the door," Brandy offered.

"All right. See you two in a few minutes," Greg replied. He squeezed my hands and hurried upstairs, leaving me alone with the cop. I smiled at him and hurriedly stepped back inside the apartment. I trusted him as far as he could throw me, so I quietly locked the deadbolt and leaned my ear against the door. I couldn't hear Greg's footsteps anymore, but I could hear the officer speaking to someone over a phone.

"It's Brandy, sir. He's coming up to you and the girl's alone down here. No, I don't think she suspects anything. Yeah, I can do that, but how long can you hold him up there? And you sure there's a car waiting out there and everyone else is in the apartment? All right, but I'd better get paid more for whacking myself on the head. Bye."

My heart thumped faster at each new piece of conversation until I thought it would start knocking against the door. Brandy must have spoken to Cranston, and they intended to take me for a joy ride that wasn't going to be so joyful. Well, he'd have to catch me first. I backed away from the door when I heard him step in front of it on the other side and jiggle the knob.

"Miss, you in there?" Brandy called to me.

I hurriedly walked backwards five yards so it wouldn't sound like I was up against the door. "Yeah. Is something wrong?"

"The door won't open."

"It's probably just stuck. What did you want to come in here for, anyway?" I asked him.

"Just to ask you something." The doorknob jiggled again. "Could you try opening the door on your end?" he requested.

"I don't think you need in here to ask a question, just spit it out," I countered.

"Did you lock this door?" he demanded to know.

His anger crept through his jolly policeman voice, so I crept toward the bedroom. "No, I'm pretty sure I didn't lock it." I must have had temporary amnesia. "I'm just going to lie down on the bed for a few minutes, so can we talk later?" Apparently he didn't want to talk later because he pounded on the door with his fist.