Shadow of Doubt - Hailey Edwards Page 0,22

his older brothers.”

“She has many children in the pack, but Shonda was the only one she birthed.”

They say it takes a village—or a pack—to raise a child. “He okay to work this case?”

“His brothers need the closure.”

That explained why Midas volunteered him. The buffer of years between Ford, his siblings, and Mrs. Randall also clued me in on how he could cut up with me without breaking down over her daughter’s death.

Curious despite myself, I found myself asking, “Does Ford usually cope through humor and flirtation?”

“For as long as I’ve known him.” Midas rolled his shoulders. “We all grieve in our own ways.”

During the past year I had spent enough time around sentinels, most employed with the Atlanta Police Department as a cover, to know he was right. Laughter and jokes were popular coping mechanisms. Alcohol was too. Drugs. Sex. Other vices. Humor was the least harmful, in my opinion, even if the release valve of laughter often got tutted as being in poor taste.

Stretching until my shoulders popped, I yawned hugely. “Tell Ford I’ll meet him downstairs?”

Midas noticed the bare strip of skin exposed between my pajama top and shorts, shut his eyes on an exhale, then turned his head. “What happened to using the fire escape?”

“First Snowball couldn’t fit through the window, and now she can’t manage the stairs. Look at those stumpy legs. Cute? Yes. Practical? No.”

“Snowball?” he echoed. “Her fae name can’t be pronounced by human—or necromantic—tongues, but you’re going to call her Snowball?”

“Between us,” I mock whispered behind my hand, “I hope the nickname shames her back onto two legs.”

Snowball flattened her ears against her skull, but it was no use. The fluffy butt ruined the stone-cold-killer vibe.

“I could call her Bonnie,” I told him, “which I assume is the name she chose for herself, not one you gave her, but it’s safer if people think I adopted a dog. Snowball will draw less attention, especially from the pack, who might notice me naming a dog after a woman I met just yesterday—today?—who has coincidentally vanished.” I gave her a reassuring pat. “The fewer people who know what she is, what she can do, the better.”

“I’m starting to see why Bonnie opened up to you.”

“Thanks to you, Ford has adopted me, and now I’ve adopted her. Maybe it’s contagious. Don’t come any closer, or you might get adopted too.”

“I’m current on all my shots.”

This time he didn’t hide his smile, and it was every bit as devastating as I imagined it would be.

“You have a nice smile. You should use it more often.”

“If I told a woman that, she would kick my family jewels so hard a crown would pop out on top of my head.”

The resulting spurt of laughter would have sprayed him had he been six inches nearer.

“I have to go.” I wiped my mouth. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.”

Before I made an even bigger fool of myself, I shut the door and contemplated a shower. I was going to be late to the meeting. There was no getting around that. I might as well be late and clean, right?

Bonnie padded after me while I gathered clothes, and I would have felt her judgment from a mile away, let alone from across six hundred square feet.

“What?”

She barked while she tossed her head toward the door.

“Don’t sass me.” I grabbed a towel. “It’s called interdepartmental cooperation.”

Her angular head reminded me of a fox, especially when she pivoted her oversized ears forward.

“Wipe that look off your face.” I scowled at her snort. “I wasn’t flirting with him.”

Clearly the girl rule of new haircut, new woman applied here. Or maybe new fur, new woman.

Bonnie the gwyllgi and Bonnie the corgi were both far more assertive than Bonnie the woman, and none of them knew what they were talking about when it came to me and a certain blond beta.

Midas couldn’t have hands off written more clearly across his face than if he tattooed it on his forehead.

I shut Snowball out of the bathroom while I indulged in a shower that tested my water heater’s stamina, then dressed for patrol in jeans gone splotchy from previous bleachings, a tee with a dancing chocolate bar on the front that said Bite Me, and sneakers.

Presentation was everything in my past life. Not so much anymore. I got to schlub it, and I liked it. There was no point in wearing trousers or blouses or cute boots when goddess only knows what you would step in before the

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