Blue moon - By Lori Handeland Page 0,15

a tad too coincidental to discover a wolf clan totem at the scene of an accident involving a wolf. That, combined with the information on manitous and evil ones, as well as the violent death of the victim within twenty-four hours...

Well, call me silly, but my nerve endings were doing the tango.

I might not believe in woo-woo, or anything I couldn't verify by fact, but I'd had enough hunches turn out true that I'd learned long ago not to ignore the steady hum in my head that said something was rotten in Min-iwa.
Chapter 6
Cadotte's voice broke into my thoughts. "You aren't going to tell me, are you?"

"Tell you what?"

"Why you're so interested in a stray wolf totem."

"I'm curious."

"Funny, but you don't seem the curious type."

"You're wrong." I stood. "Number one on the ' what you need to be a good cop'list is curiosity.

Otherwise we wouldn't keep asking all those annoying questions."

"Hmm." He got up and strode around his desk, coming too close, crowding me again.

I liked my personal circle of space, and he was invading it. But to back off would mean I was nervous, that he affected me. I was and he did, but why let him know? Perhaps one of my other attributes was bull-headed stubbornness.

Nah.

"So, should I call you?"

I gaped. "C-call me?"

There went my tough girl image.

"If I find out anything about the totem."

Of course. The totem. Not me. Never me.

Poof went my silly female fantasy.

"Yeah. Sure." I dug out a card with my various phone numbers.

He stared at it, then lifted his eyes to mine. He was still too close. I was still not backing away.

"Jessie?" he murmured. "Short for Jessica?"

"As if."

Jessica was the name of a pink-cheeked, blond-haired, petite ballerina girl.

He laughed. "I can keep this?" He flicked a finger at the totem, which remained on his desk.

I hesitated. Though I hadn't logged the thing into evidence yet, I should. Whether it meant anything or not, who could say? Maybe William Cadotte.

"For now." I grabbed a plain piece of paper, scribbled on it, then stabbed my finger at the bottom. "Sign this."

He picked up a pen and signed before asking, "What is it?"

A lawyer he wasn't. "That's evidence. You just signed for it, but I'll need the thing back."

"All right."

Silence again. Time to say good-bye. I wasn't sure how.

"I'll be in touch. Jessie."

The way he said my name made me recall the sheen of his skin in the moonlight. The way his muscles had rippled, the way his earring had swayed.

When was the last time I'd had sex? Far too long, from the direction of my thoughts. Far too long, since I couldn't quite recall. Not the when, nor the why, I could barely recall the who.

I needed to remember that Cadotte was an expert consultant, nothing more, before I made a bigger fool of myself than I already had.

I got a grip and pulled out what company manners I had. "Thanks for your time, Professor."

He took the hand I offered. My mind went all girlie again. I wanted to know what those dark, long fingers could do; I wanted to feel those large, rough palms against my skin. I wanted to see everything I'

d seen last night. Touch it, taste it, too.

"My friends call me Will." He released my hand.

Friends. Right. I was an idiot.

"I won't," I replied, then escaped.

Yes, my mother would be mortified at my behavior. This time I would have agreed with her. There was no cause for rudeness, beyond my own sense of inadequacy and a tiny kernel of fear that lodged hard and cool beneath my breastbone.

William Cadotte scared the hell out of me, and I didn't like it one bit. So I lashed out.

The need had been born in me long ago to hurt before I could be hurt, reject before I could be rejected, walk away before I could be walked away from. I couldn't change who I was inside, or out for that matter, suddenly become well adjusted, pretty, and proud of it. Don't psychoanalyze me; I've been doing it myself for years.

I'd had friends, but I never let any get too close. I was always waiting for them to turn on me as everyone else had. I'd been in love once, right out of high school. The relationship had ended badly.

Probably because I'd been expecting it to.

I knew who I was. A good cop. A decent person. But a loner. I wasn't scared of much, because I had so little to lose. Which was just