He glanced at the table where the gray sat. “Chester McKinley. He’s checking out our town so he can make recommendations to his mayor of Green Valley. Why? Was he bothering you?”
“No.”
Chester still observed her with a cool, appraising expression. As much as she tried to ignore him, even when she went back to filling another tray of drinks for Silva, Lelandi noticed he was still studying her.
Trevor had moved to a position near the restrooms and watched the tavern’s patrons. Mitchell stood near the front door doing the same thing as if he and Trevor were bouncers who usually served on duty. At any rate, she felt safe.
“So is this your regular job?” Carol moved a barstool closer to where Lelandi worked.
What was she doing here? She was supposed to find her sister’s murderer. Now she’d joined with her sister’s widowed mate and the word would soon spread throughout the pack. She’d intended to find her brother next. But at least Bruin was out of the picture. Or she assumed he was. She knew he’d retaliate against her and her parents when Larissa ran off. But she didn’t think he’d try to take Darien on for mating her.
“I guess you were paying your condolences. I’m so sorry about your sister. I had one who suffered from severe depression. Hers was an organic thing. She finally slit her wrists and well, no more depression.” Carol offered a weak smile, but tears filled her eyes. She stared at her empty wineglass, then frowned. “Sorry. That didn’t sound very nice the way I said it. I loved my sister, but my parents doted on her, trying to ‘fix’ her, trying to placate her. Me, I was upbeat no matter the hardships that came my way so my parents acted like I never needed a support system whenever anything horrible happened in my life. My sister had nothing to complain about. Always ticked me off that she was so jealous of everyone when she had everything. But… I guess I’m still angry with her for ending her own life.” Carol handed Lelandi her empty glass. “Another Chablis?”
“I’m sorry about your sister.” Lelandi poured another glass of wine.
“We were really close when we were little. Then…” Carol hurriedly wiped tears away. “So… what do you normally do when you’re not filling in?”
“Taking care of my father.”
That left a bitterness in Lelandi’s mouth. She hadn’t really considered what she would do beyond looking for her sister’s murderer and finding her brother. If her mother hadn’t worked and needed Lelandi home to take care of their father, she would have worked as a… well, maybe a psychologist. Everyone used her as a sounding board for their troubles. Maybe she would be good at that. Yet, becoming Darien’s mate left her unsure of her next move.
“Oh. Is your father sick?”
Lelandi looked away. “He’s dead.”
She wondered who could be so cruel to send her flowers, saying they were from her parents. Yet a crumb of hope nagged at her. What if they were truly safe? But how?
“Oh. I’m sorry. What are you going to do now that you have no father to look after?”
“I’ll figure it out later,” Lelandi said, not willing to reveal anything else about herself, particularly to a human. “So, what do you do?”
“Ohmigosh, let me tell you.” Carol leaned forward and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”
Right, as if this woman had anything to tell her that would be worth her time. “Sure,” Lelandi said, doing her faux bartending psychology work and leaned over the counter. “What?”
“I’m psychic, sometimes. It comes and goes,” Carol said, her voice still hushed, then she straightened and grinned.
Lelandi stared at the woman. She didn’t believe in that stuff. Just like she figured the haunted hotel across the street was part of a big hoax, and soul mates didn’t exist. Except after making love with Darien, she was reevaluating her stance on that.
“I don’t know why I mentioned it to you, but you seemed the sort that wouldn’t tell the world. And, well, maybe because we both lost a sister to severe depression. Means we have a connection, sort of. Plus,” Carol said, shrugged, and added, “you’re probably not planning on sticking around. Kind of like telling a stranger on an airline flight about your wildest sexual fantasies, and you’ll never see that person again.”
Lelandi’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve done that?”
Carol laughed. “No, but I’ve wanted to.”
“So what does being psychic mean for you?”
What if the woman could envision humans turning into wolves under the full moon or something else that could really cause problems if anyone believed her?
“I’ve seen… things. Have since I was a little girl. Really strange things. But you don’t want to hear about that. Most importantly, I’m a trained nurse—trained in surgery. But the only opening here is for the school nurse. I want to work at the hospital, except that woman…” She waved her half-full wineglass at Ritka’s table. “… the shorter, fat one, Angelina, she wouldn’t give my résumé to the doctor.” Carol shook her head. “Darien Silver is on the hospital board and apparently he has the final say about hiring staff. Said I could work at the school. Sure enough, they said they’d hire me. That the old school nurse, and believe me she looked ancient, was ready to retire. But I’m trained in surgery. Why would I want to work with kids with runny noses? Waste of my training.”
“The hospital’s staff must be full,” Lelandi said, understanding why Darien wouldn’t hire her.
“Can I see your wounds?” Carol pointed to Lelandi’s stomach.
Lelandi gave her a faked smile. “Sorry. If I begin exposing body parts, the guys will think they’re in a strip joint.”
Carol laughed out loud and slapped the bar. “Strip joint. That’s funny. Here? A strip joint? This place is as backward as they come. I don’t even know why I left Denver after I got my training.”
“Why did you?”
“My parents. I’m the only daughter they have left, and I wanted to be here for them.” Carol finished her drink. “Let me tell you, I’m not easily dissuaded.” She handed her glass to Lelandi. “Another Chablis?”
“Forgive my asking, but do you usually drink this much?”
Carol gave her a lopsided grin. “I missed the fair last year. What are celebrations for if you can’t have some fun? Fill ’er up.”
Lelandi poured the wine into the glass and deposited the woman’s cash into the register. The tavern was so packed, Silva was getting way behind on service. Hoping she wouldn’t drop a tray of drinks, Lelandi grabbed the next one and meant to carry it to a table full of gray males. Maybe because Darien and his brothers weren’t around or because the five men had a little too much to drink, they were making fools of themselves, trying to get her attention—grinning, wolf whistles, a few comments she couldn’t make over the din of noise in the place. Before she reached the table, Ritka shoved an empty chair into Lelandi’s path.
The back of the chair knocked the tray into Lelandi’s chest, giving her heart a jump start and a dull thud radiated outward. Before she lost the drinks, Chester McKinley leapt from his chair and seized the tray. He set it on the men’s table, while Ritka gave Lelandi an evil smirk. Lelandi grabbed the chair, her knuckles straining with tension, but fought the urge to knock Ritka’s teeth down her throat. Yet, the male grays waited to see how she handled the situation. Alpha females didn’t back down, although she had to curb her natural lupus garou instincts because of the humans in the establishment.
“Are you all right?” Chester seized Lelandi’s arm and moved her away from the impending fight, as she warred with her natural instincts. “Did she hurt your injuries?”
“Thanks, no, I’m all healed.” Maybe a new bruise though. Lelandi cast Ritka a warning look that she’d deal with her later. “Thanks for helping out.”
“I admire a woman with spunk. Your courage reminds me of my sister, around the same age as you. She’s gotten herself into predicaments that have forced me to rescue her a few times.”
Deep inside she wished her brother had been more like Chester and stuck around to help her family. “What did you mean about me watching myself?”
“Darien’s too close to this situation concerning your sister. I’ve been there before. He needs an outsider. Someone who isn’t as easily influenced by family or long-time friendships.”
“Someone like you?”
“I’ve been a P.I. for a number of years. The cases I’ve worked I’m not emotionally involved in. That’s all I’m saying.”
“What do you know about this case?” Lelandi hoped he could give her something to go on.
“Nothing. Darien’s people watch me day and night. I’d need his permission to investigate.”
Lelandi folded her arms. “You’ve got my permission.”
Chester smiled. “You’re really cute, you know?” He shook his head. “Darien has to approve.”
“All right then. What do you suspect?”
“Plenty. But I need Darien’s approval. Right now, his brother tells me Darien’s too busy to speak with me.”
Lelandi frowned. “I’m investigating my sister’s death even if he doesn’t like it.”
Chester let out his breath. “Better let the grays handle this. They may not get to the bottom of this as quickly as I might, but you don’t need to get yourself shot up again.”
She hadn’t intended to. But then she realized she needed to find her gun. Where could Darien have secured it? His office? His bedroom? “How long are you staying?”
“I’d planned on being here for just a couple of days and report back to my mayor about Silver Town. But when I saw you shot to hell, I decided to stick around longer. Maybe you’ll need me. And maybe you can change Darien’s mind in the meantime. In any event, you stay—”