Joy to the Wolves (Red Wolf #1) - Terry Spear Page 0,13

pressings where four songs were replaced with newly recorded tracks. In mint condition, the albums could be worth a small fortune—up to $35,000 each. The Beatles’ Please Please Me? Oh yes! Well, if it was one of the early ones.

She left the record player in her office in the shop so customers could listen to the records if they were interested in them. She started hauling all the records to the house and saw her thermos filled with tea still sitting on the table where she’d left it when she found Jingles standing on her porch. She fished in her pocket to pull out her house keys, unlocked the door, dropped off the records, turned off the security alarm, and put the thermos of tea in the kitchen. Then she locked the back door.

She wondered what other treasures were hidden in the attic. She’d looked on and off for two weeks for her great-aunt’s inventory sheet and still hadn’t found it. For now, she’d spend the rest of the evening going through the records, learning the value of each, move some of the books off the living room shelves to make room for the records until she found buyers for the collectibles. She set the books on the floor behind the Christmas tree and would have to sort through them one of these days too.

By the time she went to bed, she realized what a fortune she could have just in vinyl records. Even at the low price of a few hundred dollars per record, she could have between $50,000 and $200,000. Her great-aunt had managed to collect a few first editions, and they were worth from several hundred dollars to $35,000 apiece.

Things were looking up.

Dressed in her red flannel pajamas covered in little reindeer—which made her think of Jingles—and lying in bed, Brooke placed her arms behind her head on her pillow, looked at the ceiling, and smiled. This had been one perfect open house, as crazy as the day had started out. She took a deep breath and thought about running in the woods as a wolf, the perfect way to end an already great day.

Her phone on the bedside table played a little of the “Carol of the Bells,” and she frowned, wondering who would be calling her at eleven at night. When she looked at the caller ID, she saw it was Josh Wilding.

What now? He’d better not want to question her any further tonight about how Jingles had arrived in her courtyard this morning.

When she answered the phone, Josh asked, “Did you lock your gate tonight?”

“I’m in bed, trying to get to sleep. Some people need their sleep, you know. Oh, but I was surprised and pleased to find a new shiny latch on the gate.”

He didn’t say anything, so she figured he hadn’t replaced the latch. She let out her breath. “I hope you find your real suspect soon.” Then she hung up on him.

She really wanted to sock him! He had no business calling her at this time of night, making sure she did what he’d told her to do.

* * *

When Brooke Cerise hung up on Josh, he chuckled. She had a temper to go with the fiery-red hair. He could envision her cheeks flushing, like they’d done earlier when he’d questioned her about Jingles. He meant to ask her about the unknown male wolf who’d been at their place, tampering with their security equipment. He wanted to know if she knew any other male wolves. If she’d heard anything the night before that would indicate someone had slipped into her courtyard where they’d left the reindeer. But the first words out of his mouth had been about her locking her gate—his main concern.

When he checked the gate to her courtyard earlier, he’d smelled the scent of the male wolf there too. In the courtyard. But not in the store. Would Josh smell him in her house?

Once he’d discovered her gate latch wasn’t latching properly every time, Josh had run to the hardware store on the next block over and picked up a replacement, hoping that would keep the gate from opening on a whim. He was glad she had been pleased, but he hadn’t even had time to say he did it before she hung up on him. He smiled again.

Then he ran his hands through his hair and looked out the window at the ranch and the barn where the reindeer were sleeping. He knew the thief couldn’t have been