4. Oh
OH
did he really think he could leave gus and mother behind?
Silly wolf. he should know better by now.
— gus
Less than an hour later, I’m standing in a dense patch of woods, trying my best not to throw up.
I made a mistake. Olivia absolutely refused to tell anyone else where to find her body apart from me. I thought that meant I would convince her to tell me where to go, I would pass that information on to the sheriff, and that would be the end of it.
Uh-uh. She was serious when she told me that I needed to figure out who killed her.
The only way she would lead us to her body was if she hovered inside of my rental car while giving me directions.
Only after she brought me there and showed me where she was killed would I be allowed to give instructions to Max where to find her.
That’s what I did. Because I don’t trust Olivia, I did get out of the car and follow her to her corpse, hoping that I would be able to identify the fallen body just enough to be sure that it was her, then return to the car, call Max, and let him deal with it.
And while I managed to accomplish that, I realized how badly I screwed up when Max arrived ten minutes later with one of his deputies, Sharon.
Though they could search the woods for the body themselves, Max admitted it would save them all time if I brought them straight to the victim.
The first time, I was able to see her long brown hair, twisted in the braid she always wore settled on her front shoulder, and know I was looking at the fallen body of Olivia Frost. But the second?
I looked. Goddess help me, but I looked, and I don’t think I’ll ever get the vision of her ruined remains out of my head.
Olivia’s ghost looks almost exactly as she did when she was alive. There are no wounds on her. No blood. No sign that the last moments of her life were anything but peaceful.
Her corpse isn’t nearly so lucky.
I almost puked when I saw it directly beneath the moonlight. Even Sharon looked a little queasy. Despite being a wolf shifter, there’s a difference between hunting in her fur and seeing what a wolf can do to a human victim that it sees as prey.
Because Olivia was right. There’s no way that the wounds that killed her could’ve come from anything other than a predator.
Max is crouching several feet away from the body. Sharon has moved off to the side, searching the ground while he studies Olivia without touching her. I don’t know what he’s looking for, and I’m not about to ask if that means I have to get any closer.
I’m doing just fine right here. Olivia is hovering next to me, like a supervisor watching her crew rather than the dearly departed ghost watching law enforcement go over her crime scene.
“This is where you found her?” Max calls over to me.
It’s not a good idea to open my mouth just yet. I nod.
“And you didn’t touch anything?”
I shake my head.
Olivia snorts. “She barely looked at me. She can’t even stand to see what happened now.” She looks my way. “Now do you see why it’s so important you figure out who killed me?” She tuts. “You don’t want to be next, do you, Penelope?”
I purposely ignore her, but Goddess damn it, she’s not wrong.
Distracted by Olivia’s commentary, I miss it when Max stiffens. However, I don’t miss it when he leaps easily to a standing position, whirling around, surveying the trees behind us. His nostrils flare once. Twice. His expression tightens.
Then his head snaps toward the trail behind him to his left.
“Killer?”
Killer?
“I know you’re out there. I know you were supposed to stay back at the cabin, safe and sound in bed. But I know your scent anywhere… you might as well come on out, Honey.”
Oh. I forgot. For some reason, Max’s pet name for his mate is ‘Killer’. She always seems a little exasperated yet undeniably pleased when he uses it, though now it’s Max who sounds very exasperated as the bushes along the trail rustle.
I look over there. Sharon does, too. Olivia… she hovers over to her corpse and shakes her head.
Max taps his foot, waiting. A moment later, a little grey-and-white face pokes out from beneath the leaves. The opossum steps closer, and I see that collar around his neck and the star-shaped badge that’s pinned there.
Gus. That’s Gus.
And where there’s Gus—
A second opossum appears right behind him. This one is about twice his size, and if I could see that well in the dark of night and the shadows of the woods, I know her eyes would be purple. This is obviously an opossum shifter in their fur, and undeniably Honey Lobo.
Max closes his eyes. “Killer, go back to the cabin.”
Honey scampers toward her mate, rising up so she can rub her muzzle against the side of his leg.
I bite the inside of my cheek. Somehow, I’m not surprised that Honey (and Gus) decided to sneak after Max.
Maybe I shouldn’t have woken the opossum shifter up so that she could connect me with Max.
Probably shouldn’t have blurted out that Olivia was dead, either, and that I was talking to her ghost. But I did, and Honey must’ve thought she could help her mate.
That, or she’s just super nosy.
Gus… Honey has teasingly mentioned that the wild opossum takes his new role as Deputy Gus very seriously. Now there’s been a crime, and here they are, and Max looks like he wishes they were anywhere else but here.
Max opens his eyes again as he feels his mate brushing up against his jeans. “Honey.”
She chitters softly.
“Honey…”
Gus joins in.
Max sighs. His voice loses its Alpha edge when he tries again. “You don’t need to see this. I told you that at home. It’s… it’s not good.”
In response, Honey immediately scurries across the clearing.
For one horrible second, I think she’s going to ignore him and go straight to Olivia’s body. She doesn’t. Instead, she comes to me, tapping my boot with one tiny paw before she turns her snout Max’s way.
I don’t speak opossum, and I’ve given up on casting any spells that would make them talk, but, in this case, I don’t have to.
“She’s pointing out that I don’t need to see it, either,” I translate.
Honey nods emphatically.
Max’s jaw flexes. “Penelope had to bring us here.”
“Because she refused to tell anyone else,” I mutter, shooting a look over where Olivia’s standing guard over her ghost.
“No one else can see me or hear me,” Olivia reminds me. “It had to be you, Penelope, so buck up and stop whining.”
I continue ignoring her.
Max looks at Honey again. Whatever silent argument is passing between them, I think she wins because he lets out a long breath and rubs his hand over his face.
Then the sheriff of Moonburrow looks back at the body. His shoulders sag, and he makes a mistake of his own when he says in a frustrated tone: “There wasn’t supposed to be another murder with the wards locked down.”
Silence follows as everyone in the clearing—except, I notice, his fellow member of the Moonburrow Sheriff Department—realizes what he just said. Hell, even Olivia shuts up.
And then I ask in a tremulous voice, “Another murder?”
Max goes completely still. It’s obvious that he didn’t mean to say that, and there’s a pretty good reason for his reaction: Honey Lobo.
It all happens so quickly. One of the opossums makes a furious sound, somewhat like a hiss but worse.
I understand that it’s Honey a split second later when she shifts on the spot.
One moment, I have an opossum by my boot.
The next? A naked blonde woman is striding toward her mate, fists clenched at her sides.
“Max!”
I get a good look at Honey’s backside, remember that shifters who come out of their skin don’t come with clothes, and whip around so quickly that I nearly trip over a tree root I didn’t see in the darkness.
Somewhere behind me, Olivia whistles.
“Well. That’s a surprise. The part-witch has a pretty nice ass.”
“Olivia!” I squeal, though the only saving grace is that I’m the only one who heard her say that.
“What?” the ghost asks, trying for innocence and failing miserably. “She does.”
We’re not the only ones taken aback by Honey’s sudden strip show.
“Honey,” Max growls. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what my mate means when he said another murder? Another one, Max? And you didn’t tell me?”
There’s the sound of movement behind me, then Max says, “Put this on.”
“I don’t want your shirt. I want an answer.”
“Take one and I’ll give you the other.”
I stare very hard at a long, slender tree a few feet away while Honey grumbles under her breath.
“I wouldn’t turn around just yet,” Olivia advises me cheerily.
“Although Max Lobo without a shirt is considerably better than Honey without one. Goddess. Look at his chest. But you have to remember it about these beasts… they’re very possessive.
If you eyeball her tits, he might go for your eyes.
But if you enjoy his sculpted chest, she might give you rabies.
” She huffs. “I have it on good authority that shifters have super rabies. Don’t get bit, witchling. Not until you’ve solved my murder.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Must you be so difficult? I told you I’ll try my best.”
“I’m dead. Be respectful.”
Maybe if it wasn’t three in the morning, I’m standing by a corpse, and there’s a wolf Alpha way too close about to give in to a jealous rage because his mate decided it was better to return to her skin despite having an audience…
“Are we decent?” I call out after a moment.
“No,” says Olivia. “They’re beasts, Penelope.”
“Yes,” says Max at exactly the same time, and I decide to trust the sheriff is in charge and not the wolf.
I risk turning around, letting out a soft sigh when I see that Honey is wearing Max’s t-shirt, her hair wild and loose. It just about covers everything that counts as she glares over at her mate.
Uh-oh.
Her shirtless mate.