Page 55 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
Oh, goody. I can’t wait for them to let themselves in whenever the mood hits.
“Thank you, Benny. You should go on home and rest, you were up half the night.”
“Paperwork,” he replied, which was apparently how he bade farewell, because he left.
“Aviation fuel,” Garsea said, puzzled.
“Good thing this case isn’t getting weirder by the hour,” Oz sighed.
Before they could speculate further, there was a knock at the back-kitchen door. Cop? Insurance adjuster? Avgas salesman?
“Wait!” she hissed as Garsea presumptuously went to answer. The other woman froze in mid-step.
“What is it?”
“Just…wait.” Another knock and another long silence. And after yet another long moment, there came yet another knock, this time on the front door.
Lila all but ran into the living room, dropped to her knees, smirked to hear Oz’s sharp intake of breath behind her, crawled over to the window facing the driveway, peeked. “See?” Garsea, Oz, and Macropi had all knelt behind her, which was more than a little amusing. “See what he’s doing?”
“He’s…leaving. Getting ready to leave, anyway. Nice rental car, though,” Oz added.
“If by ‘nice,’ you mean idiotic,” Lila replied, staring at the blue Ford Mustang convertible.
“Naw, by nice I meant nice.”
“Pfftt. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get frostbite. And look! He’s getting ready to leave! To go work on his frostbite!”
“Lila, why are you so—”
“You don’t understand. He knocked ononedoor. Then he knocked on theotherdoor. And now he’s leaving. And why? Because I didn’t answer the door! Either door! Don’t you see how revolutionary this is?”
“Oh, for the love…”
“This is the first time this has happened in all the days I’ve lived here!” Lila hissed triumphantly. “You could learn a lot from this guy, gang. This,thisis how you call on people you don’t know.”
“A revelation,” Garsea said sourly. “But heisstill leaving. Shouldn’t we find out what he wants? Now that we have to watch for an arsonist, we shouldn’t let anyone just slip in and out as they like.”
“Excellent point,” Lila replied, standing. To Oz: “Well, don’t just stand there. Go get him, tiger.” And slapped him on the ass for emphasis.
“Right!” Oz did exactly that, rushing out the door and straight to the convertible.
Macropi and Garsea rose to their feet, and Garsea’s grin was positively gleeful. “I like how you chased him out of here before he remembered he’s wearing your shorty robe.”
Chapter 22
“You’re telling me that my friends are dead but perhaps not and while you try to determine which, someone tried to burn my goddaughter alive?”
As a summation,Lila thought,it is devastating in its accuracy.
“Unacceptable!” This in a roar. An actual roar; Magnus Berne was one of those people who filled every room they were in, like Churchill and Lady Gaga and the Phillie Phanatic. He towered over all of them, even Oz, though she thought Oz might be able to give him a run for his money. Oz’s wolf, she’d decided last night, was nothing to be fucked with.
But Magnus made even the bulky firefighters look like wraiths: He looked to be in his mid-thirties, was well over six feet, with thick brown hair that had an odd violet tint. Shoulders like cement blocks, fists like bowling balls made out of cement blocks. He sported a deep tan, dark slacks, a navy-blue sweater with epaulets, and sturdy shoes. He’d flung his tan trench coat over his shoulders when they followed him to the site of the fire, and every time he moved quickly, the coat flared. Lila couldn’t decide if the man was naturally theatrical or playing a part or was some kind of superhero (or villain).
“Are you kidding me with this ridiculous bullshit?” he roared.
Naturally theatrical. Most likely. Can’t rule out super villain.
Oz had brought Berne into Lila’s house, where the man curtly introduced himself, listened to Oz and Garsea’s explanation, then turned without a word and marched over to Macropi’s still-smoking house. All the rest of them could do was look at each other, shrug, and follow. And in Oz’s case, frantically change back into yesterday’s clothes,thenfollow.
