Chapter 5
Demarien fought off a headache as he put a pot of tea on the ancient gas stove.
It was late, and they were all exhausted and gathered at Demarien’s new home.
Piko and Brownie curled up together on a dog bed by the couch, and Milo’s two cats had made themselves comfortable upstairs in one of the bedrooms.
The beach house was in a lot better shape than the main house, even if it was an overgrown, outdated mess.
It would need new siding, windows, and flooring.
Plus, the chimney needed cleaning, and the porch rails would have to be fixed.
It hadn’t been burglarized, though, and there wasn’t a dead body lying on the floor.
At least I don’t have a chicken in my kitchen, he thought, glaring toward the living room where Puck held the damn chicken on his lap.
Joe sat with Milo on the couch, arms wrapped around Demarien’s shaken friend. “The sheriff will take care of everything, so don’t you boys worry one bit.”
“I talked to Bernard just last week.” Milo sighed. “He already moved out of the house and said he was on his way to his sister in Montana.”
“He must have come back,” Felix said, handing freshly cleaned mugs to Demarien. “Maybe he forgot something and walked in on whoever broke into the house.”
“Maybe he never left,” Puck said with a scowl. “Honesty isn’t his thing, apparently. The fucker didn’t bother maintaining the house for the five years he lived here. What did he even do with all that money Dahlia sent?”
Milo closed his eyes in thought. “I remember Aunt Dahlia said she sent money for a new roof on the main house last year. There was more, but I can’t remember right now.”
Demarien brought Milo a mug of tea made just the way he liked it. “The sheriff will figure things out. Let’s focus on what we can do right now.”
Milo smiled half-heartedly. “They should have the house processed within a few weeks. We can get started on assessing and fixing up the rest of the property.”
“I’ll help Demarien get this place fixed up,” Joe said, looking around. “You boys need a safe place to stay, and I know you won’t come to my house.”
“Nope,” Demarien said with a smile. “This is our home, and nothing’s going to run us off.”
The front door slammed open, and Felix’s abuela shuffled in.
Silvia Montenegro wore her usual outfit - a loose, colorful dress decorated with hand-stitched embroidered flowers, a baggy red flannel shirt, and bright pink galoshes.
Her gray hair hung in a long braid down her back, and gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose.
“Mi nieto.” She hurried to Felix and hugged him, her words too fast for Demarien to translate.
The front door closing drew his attention, and Demarien barely held back a squeak as his heart started beating faster. Boone. Worry darkened the handsome alpha’s eyes.
“Are you all alright?” Boone asked, hands balled into fists at his side. “Everyone in town keeps talking about the four of you finding a dead body. What’s the sheriff doing about it? I can call my buddy, Patrick. He’ll figure out what’s going on.”
“The sheriff is investigating,” Joe said, amused. “No need to call in the cavalry, young man.”
Boone’s cheeks flushed red, and Demarien grinned, his horrible evening brightening.
“Have a seat,” Demarien said. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.”
Boone sat on one of the wobbly stools at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. “I’m sorry to show up like this. I heard the news at Wilma-Jean’s and came right away and found Ms. Montenegro walking up the hill.”
Felix’s eyes widened, and he whispered something to Abuela. His grandmother couldn’t drive anymore, and Demarien felt she was being lectured.
“You can come by anytime,” Demarien said, clearing his throat when the words came out huskier than he intended. “Uh, Dad is right, though. The sheriff is taking care of it. We’ll stay here until everything is processed. No big deal.”
Boone arched a brow and leaned forward, voice low so the others couldn’t hear. “Are you okay? Finding a dead body is kinda a big deal.”
Demarien leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.
Instantly, the image of Bernard’s body filled his sight.
He shook his head and opened his eyes again.
“It was horrible, but we’ll be okay. I puked after I called Dad.
” He felt dazed. “My puke is lying in the foyer. That’s going to be nasty to clean up. ”
Boone reached out and took his hand, his warm, callused fingers linking with Demarien’s, sending a shiver down his spine. “I’ll help you.”
A herd of rampaging penguins couldn’t have made Demarien look away from Boone. It had always felt like Boone was the center of the whole world.
Demarien swallowed hard. “We’ll accept any help we can get. There’s a lot more to do than we expected, and we’re all shook up about Bernard. Milo is taking it the worst because he actually knew him.”
“Anything you need?” Boone asked, eyes soft.
Demarien glared at Puck. “A good recipe for fried chicken. Puck actually adopted that damn bird and named it Memphis. It was just wandering around the main house.”
Boone chuckled and looked over his shoulder. Puck snored, head leaning back in his chair. Memphis sat on his lap, eyes closed too.
Demarien looked at Felix, and guilt settled in his belly. “Damn it. I forgot Felix’s guinea pig again. I was going to go by Fe Fido Fo Fum tonight and get it for him. He wants one so much, and he deserves something special.”
Boone nodded, face solemn. “I can handle that, so don’t worry about it. I’ll have the best guinea pig in the state by tomorrow.”
Demarien hid his smile. “The best guinea pig in the state?”
“Only the best for you and your friends.” Boone gave him a worried look. “We’ll have our lesson tomorrow afternoon, okay? I don’t like the thought of a murderer running around while you’re out here alone.”
Demarien looked around the full house. Abuela Silvia had moved on to Milo and Joe, hugging the two men together as she mumbled soft words of comfort. “Yes, I’m so alone.”
“Tomorrow?” Boone asked, determination hardening his expression.
Demarien looked at their linked hands, amazed at how well they fit together. He knew how to take care of himself, but he sure wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get closer to Boone. “Tomorrow.”