Page 50 of Renaissance Bear

"Maybe we should ask a wolf, then."

Chapter 22

Gus Saunders, the police officer, happened to be a wolf. Jon shot him a text, asking if he was available, and the officer called back a minute later. Jon put him on speakerphone so Alis could hear as Gus said, "If you're thinking of sniffing Whitfield out, I tried."

Jon said, "Dammit," and the officer snorted.

"Iamgood at my job, Jon. Fran said you had a sniff around at Whitfield's place too, and came up with nothing. What are you looking for?"

"Somebody who doesn't smell like an onion," Jon mumbled.

There was a pause in which he could more or less hear Gus mentally translating 'onion' to 'shifter,' and a longer one in which the officer clearly decided not to ask why Jon had settled ononionsas a code word for shifters, For God's Sake. The 'For God's Sake' part came through pretty clearly, without actually being said.

"All right," Gus said after that pause. "Here's the weird thing I noticed: even at his house, Whitfield's own scent smelled old. Not a few days old, but old enough to have almost disappeared. Wiped out levels of old. And City Hall smelled the same way.Whateveronionsthey're using, they don't just make it hard to smell other…onions. They also make it hard to smell regular…not-onions."

"Apples," Jon offered, and could once more hear Gus basically staring at him through the phone. He should have made a vone call so he could actually see that look, which he bet was kind of funny.

"All right," Gus said eventually. "They make it hard to smell apples, too. Whatever's going on here, they obviously know about onions and have a way of counteracting them. So if you start noticing people, ah,apples, that you can't smell…"

"Right. That's helpful," Jon said. "Thanks, Gus. I'll get friends at the Faire to start really putting their noses into it and I'll let you know if we come up with anything."

"I'm already doing the same around town." Gus hung up without making any promises about sharinghisinformation with Jon, but Jon guessed that was fair. He wasn't the one whose job was solving crimes, after all.

Alis had finished her pizza and was smirking at him. "That was the most ridiculous conversation I've ever heard, and I teach eight year olds. Also, I'm calling you guys onions in public forever now, if I have to bring up the whole…" She paused dramatically. "'Onion' thing."

"I can't wait to explain that to my family," Jon said with a groan. "No one is ever going to believe I didn't onion-breath you half to death."

Alis laughed and leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. He put his nose in her hair, inhalingherscent, which was still sunshine-warm and sunblocky, with traces of sweat, deodorant, and shampoo. Nothing overpowering, just pleasant. "The good news isyousmell great. Citrusy?"

"I have an incredible weakness for orange body scrubs," she admitted. "They make me go around sniffing myself all day."

"I volunteer as tribute."

"You can sniff me any time," Alis promised. "Should we go sniff the townsfolk? Not that I'm going to be of any use, with my blunt human nose."

He kissed the arch of her nose, which was anything but blunt. "Hatchets are sharp and deadly. And before you get offended, you were the one who used 'hatchet' to describe yourself in the first place.Ithink you're a classic beauty. Romanesque."

"I'm not offended. I like the idea of being sharp and deadly. And Romanesque isn't exactly the 'in' look for women these days, but I'll take it."

"It's extremely in, in Rome."

"Is it, though?" Alis asked curiously. "Okay, we have to get up, whether it's to sniff people or not. My butt has gone completely to sleep."

"Want me to rub it for you?"

"Not in public!"

Jon made a show of taking notes. "'Private butt rubbing appreciated…'"

"I'll rubyourbutt," Alis said, then shook her head. "That didn't come across as threateningly as I meant for it to. I sound like one of my kids, in fact."

"I'm not sure a good butt-rubbing is ever all that threatening," Jon agreed. They were up and walking along the street now, with part of his mind on trying to scent the people around him. A lot of them smelled like sunburn, really, kind of hot and crinkly. "No pressure, but where am I taking you back to, tonight?"

"Oh…" Alis sounded wistful. "I want to go back to your place, but I really need to be at the fairgrounds early tomorrow. Things are going to be complicated unless Shelly comes back to work."

"Tomorrow's…" Jon ran through the faire schedule, trying to remember. "I've got the unarmored division, and then there'sthe armored later. Princess Cecilia's supposed to be at both of those, isn't she? But especially the armored one, so she can fall in love with Argent."

"Yes, but I want to cheer for you at the unarmored division," Alis said grumpily. "I'm going to be really frustrated if Shelly doesn't show up. Even if I can make you my champion in the unarmored division, Argent's got both the armored and the jousting rounds."

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