Shadow of Doubt - Hailey Edwards Page 0,19

exposing her to rubberneckers? It’s almost lunchtime, darlin’. The streets will be packed downtown.”

“Leave it to me.” I started walking and trusted Bonnie to follow. “I know a guy.”

The guy was Bishop, and boy was he in for a surprise.

Bishop met us at the Faraday with an industrial laundry cart on fat wheels, stuffed with heaps of pastel fabric that resembled the contents of my scrap heap. He tossed a few sheets in the bed of the truck where Bonnie lay flattened on her side, then parked the cart beneath the tailgate, which he lowered after she chuffed her readiness.

I palmed my forehead when the lump no one would believe for a hot minute was a pile of laundry started wagging its tail.

“Help me hold this up,” Bishop said, passing me the corner of a sheet. “This will give her some cover to hop down.”

Doing as he asked, even though it put me close enough to the zoom of ravenous motorists that I felt a breeze from each passing vehicle, I pretended this was a totally normal activity fit for human consumption while silently thanking my lucky stars this was a pack problem and not one I had created.

Except Bonnie obviously hadn’t shifted since the pack took her in until now, since no one except Midas had a clue what she was, and she hadn’t felt the need until she met…me.

Well, frak.

“Ready?” Bishop rippled the sheet. “Olé!”

Bonnie leapt into the cart, which made a popping/grinding/screeching noise that couldn’t be good.

After closing the tailgate, Bishop, Ford, and I lifted the cart out of the road and back onto the sidewalk.

“Where did you even find this?” I panted at Bishop. “The Faraday doesn’t have a laundry service.”

“You would be amazed at the props I keep on hand for just such occasions.”

“You stole it, didn’t you?”

“I’m an attaché to the Office of the Potentate of Atlanta. I don’t steal. I acquire.”

I throttled a laugh as we pushed Bonnie to the entrance in time for the doorman to step in our path.

“What the hell is in that?”

Clearly, he had been watching the show, and we had to give the man an answer. “Bonnie Diaz.”

His eyebrows shot so high, he almost struck a low-flying aircraft, and he cranked his head toward Ford. “Is she serious?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nudged the cart forward. “Now, get out of our way.”

The doorman did as he was told, and we squeaked past him into the safety of the lobby, but Ford didn’t follow. He lingered outside, and I might have felt the sudden need to bend down and retie my shoe.

“Midas has a special interest in Hadley,” Ford said. “So do I. Unless you want to get busted down to janitorial work, I would do my damnedest to hide whatever problem you’ve got with her—or any other resident—before our beta makes an example out of you.”

“Ford—”

“She’s a predator. It gets your back up. I feel it too, so I understand, but there are bigger and worse here.”

“I’m not sure about that,” the doorman murmured after noticing I hadn’t kept going.

“I am.” Ford clapped the man on the back. “Suck it up or get demoted while you work on your poker face. Your call.” He entered the lobby and squatted in front of me. “Here, let me help you with that. The bunny goes over the—”

I batted his hands away. “I can tie my own shoe.”

“I can’t tell. You’ve been kneeling here long enough to rethread your laces.”

Annoyed, I jerked a knot in my bow, which made him chuckle under his breath, but I played it off like I had meant to do it.

“I’m going to bed.” I waved to the laundry cart. “Night, Bonnie.” I singled out Bishop next. “Thanks for the assist. Call a full meeting at dusk. We need to put our heads together on this.”

The elevator doors had closed behind me before I heard the first shout. I smacked my palm against the emergency stop button, but it ignored me. Probably because the glide from the lobby to my floor was so short, I was practically there by the time the red light flashed.

Not trusting it a second time, I shoved open the emergency exit door and crashed into a wall of pale fur. “What in the—?”

“Bonnie,” Ford yelled. “Bonnie.”

“Bonnie?” I caught the breath she had knocked out of me. “Explain.”

The last bit had been directed at Ford, since Bonnie had yet to shift back.

“She saw you get in the elevator and lost her ever-lovin’ mind.” He

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