Page 16 of More Than Meets the Eye

Lizzie looked troubled. “The North American Consortium of Shifters, Mr. Shepherd.”

Susan’s phone buzzed, and she walked out onto the porch to take the call.

“Call me Jack, Lizzie. Does Susan know?” Jack’s voice was low.

Lizzie shook her head, her dark eyes serious. “I haven’t told her about it. I mean, it’s not really true. Yet.”

Lizzie wasalmosta werewolf, which I hadn’t known was a real thing. Werewolves had bitten her, and she’d briefly died. I knew all about it because she’d made the mistake of grabbing my hand, even though she’d been warned not to touch me, and I’d seen her die.

They’d attacked her at night. In a park. She’d worn a pretty red party dress, but the blood had still showed horribly against it. And she’d been with another woman; a friend. The friend died, too.

With my curse that Jack insisted on calling a gift, there was a glitch. If anyone died and came back to life, like with CPR or as a vampire, if I saw their death, I usually saw that first one. It’s how I saw Lizzie die, and how I saw Jack die at the hands—and fangs and swords—of vampires.

But she was onlyalmosta werewolf, because she’d never shifted. She had some of the nifty supernatural abilities, like the enhanced sense of smell from her wolf half, but she’d never gone all the way, so to speak. Jack said this was terrible for her, and if she couldn’t reconcile her two sides and shift, eventually she was going to get sick or go mad.

It was ridiculously unfair, and all of it made me so sad I just wanted to go take a shower and hide beneath my blankets until next week. At least it was Saturday night, and my shop was closed on Sundays. I needed a day off.

Badly.

Susan came back inside, looking angry. “The crime scene people say they can’t come for at least an hour. I don’t know what to do until then.”

“Call Reynolds in Riverton,” Jack suggested. “And here’s more bad news I didn’t mention yet since you were accusing me of lying. The killer did something to the outside cameras. We don’t have any footage of the murder.”

Susan sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not a liar. I’m in a terrible mood.”

Jack shrugged it off. “Understandable. Us, too.”

I decided to lighten the air. “More coffee?”

Susan declined the coffee but took Jack up on the suggestion and called Reynolds. It was a quick call, and he agreed to come right over.

“You knew he was a wolf shifter?” Susan aimed a steady look at Jack. “I thought it wasn’t a club.”

Jack shrugged. “If there’s a club, I’m not in it. I met him when I was helping Brenda with Sheriff Lawless. The Riverton Sheriff Lawless.”

“And you just knew Reynolds was a shifter? Did he know you were?”

“Yes,” he drawled. “We have a secret handshake. The decoder ring saysDrink More Ovaltine.”

She blew out a sigh of frustration. “Not funny, Jack. I’m dealing with a dead deputy whomydeputy tells me is a werewolf, so I … Wait.”

Susan whipped her head to the right to stare at Lizzie. “Mind telling me exactly how you knew he was a werewolf?”

“We prefer wolf shifter,” Lizzie whispered, unable to meet her new boss’s gaze.

“We?” Susan’s accusing stare snapped to Jack and then to me. “You two knew?”

“She’s only almost a werewolf,” I said helpfully.

Turned out, nobody found that helpful.

Explanations ensued.

By the time Sheriff Reynolds showed up, I was only still awake by sheer willpower and the two cups of coffee that roiled around in my stomach like acid. There was still a dead guy in my garage, and searching online for “garage corpse cleanup” was not a good idea, let me warn you.

Reynolds, Susan, and Lizzie went out to the garage. Reynolds and Susan came back, leaving Lizzie to stand guard over the scene, and confirmed that, yes, dead guy.

Yes, dead werewolf.

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