Page 9 of Secret Shifters Next Door

Five minutes later, my laptop chirped with an email notification. Almost spilling my beer in my haste, I yanked it across the coffee table and pulled up the message. Eagerly scanning the information, the first thing I noticed was her name. Harley King, maiden name Stone.

I leaned back and groaned, putting my face in my hands. A married woman? That was not cool. I cringed at the idea of some poor guy sitting at home wondering where his wife was while I was banging her brains out. My moral code when it came to sex was no clients and no married or taken women. It was a simple but fucking iron-clad rule. I’d broken that rule once or twice, but by complete accident—women who had lied about being in relationships. I’d always felt like absolute shit when it happened, so I tried everything I could to prevent it.

I leaned forward, shaking my head. It was done, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. Scanning the document, I saw that I actually had no reason to be upset. Harley was a widow. That surprised me. She was awfully young to be widowed. Something tragic must have caused that. I found a couple of news articles as well as an obituary for a Samuel King. He’d been an officer with the NYPD and had been killed in the line of duty three years ago.

“That fucking sucks,” I whispered to myself.

I didn’t want the lady living next door, but I wasn’t a total asshole. It was tough to imagine raising two young kids afteryour husband was killed. I could empathize with that. The kids were Mariah King, aged sixteen, and Jordyn King, aged fourteen. There were scanned pictures from a yearbook. I didn’t know how Miles had acquired those. Thankfully, their pictures matched the girls next door. No stolen identities here.

Miles had been beyond thorough. There was a copy of Harley’s marriage certificate, scans of the girls’ report cards, even a few hyperlinks to websites Harley had designed. I’d casually clicked them and was impressed with the job she’d done. She was good. It was also a job she could do remotely, which gave her the means to get out of the city and still remain employed. That’s what I wanted to figure out next. Why the hell was she here?

A possible reason appeared in one of the last files I opened. There was a copy of a restraining order she’d filed against a Luis Ortiz a couple of weeks before she moved to Lilly Valley. A black-and-white scan of a driver’s license picture popped up. He was a good-looking dude, but something about his picture put me on edge––like there was something under the surface ready to snap. I didn’t like him.

The order stated that he’d begun stalking and threatening Harley and her daughters. There were a few examples, and they weren’t the worst things I’d ever seen or heard about, but it had the scent of escalation. Had she not gotten out, things would probably have continued to get more and more out of hand. I had to admit, it was probably a good plan to move away from the city.

Miles had done a little digging on the Luis guy after finding the restraining order. He didn’t really have any work history, but his tax returns showed he was claiming a ton of money. Weird. Several known associates were fairly high up in one of the New York crime families. There was no explicit proof, but every bit of circumstantial evidence pointed to him being connected to themob in some way, shape, or form. This guy was dangerous on a different level. Lots of guys were pieces of shit who liked to slap around or intimidate women. Not many had the connections to make someone they didn’t like disappear. If this guy was really that nuts,anddangerous, then he might try to follow her to Lilly Valley. That type of trouble was something the guys and I could do without. I was less than thrilled about the possibility.

I needed to talk to the guys. If I didn’t, I’d go freaking crazy. I changed out of my mowing clothes as fast as I could and, making sure to get into my car and away before the new neighbors came out and saw me, I drove to the office. A quick call on the way let me know that Miles, Steffen, and Blayne were all at the office. Good, I wouldn’t have to wait for them to get there. Fifteen minutes later, we were crammed back into Miles’s tiny office, like the other day.

“Okay, man, what’s this about?” Steff asked.

Miles raised an eyebrow. “Is this about your neighbor? Is that it?”

I sighed and leaned back in my seat, rubbing my temples. “Okay, so, you guys remember the last travel job I had, right?”

Blayne nodded. “The pop star? Nineteen-year-old chick who tried to suck your cock every night?”

“Yeah, right. Anyway, a few weeks before that tour was over, she did a two-night event in New York. On the second night, after she passed out drunk as shit on her tour bus, I decided to go out on the town. Have some drinks since I’d gotten off early for once.”

“Does this story have a point?” Steff laughed.

I glared at him. “While I was out, there was a gorgeous woman sitting across the bar. I introduced myself, we drank and flirted, and one thing led to another and… well… you know.”

“You… played Jenga?” Blayne said.

“You made sand castles,” Steff said, nodding and snapping his fingers.

“You obviously watched a marathon ofDownton Abbey,” Miles said.

I snarled. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. We had sex, all right? Fucked, screwed, made the beast of two backs, did the nasty. Stop being assholes.”

The guys chuckled but nodded for me to go on.

“So, we do the thing, and it’s fucking amazing, Maybe the best night of my entire life. I had a flight out at like five in the morning, so I bounce before she ever wakes up. I flew out to meet the singer chick in Los Angeles for the next leg of her tour, and I have a great memory of the lady in New York. Fast forward a few weeks, and I’m back home. Miles tells us shifters are disappearing and going missing. Be on the lookout for anything strange?”

“Well, two freaking hours ago, I’m mowing my yard. Not a care in the world. I turn the mower around, and look up. My new neighbors are across the street, staring at me. Two teenage girls and a mom. Guess, if you can, who the fucking mom was?”

They all stared at me for several seconds. All three of them had confused looks. I would have, too, if I’d been them. Even after talking about the lady in New York, it was hard for them to fathom how she could possibly be my neighbor. It was literally so unlikely that I’d made it as obvious as possible, but their minds refused to make the connection.

Blayne was the first one to get it. His eyes went wide. “No… fucking… way.”

I nodded. Steffen and Miles looked confused. Blayne smiled and said, “His one-night stand chick. She’s the new goddamned neighbor.”

Steffen’s jaw dropped, and he said, “Wait, what? How is that possible?”

“Right…” Miles said, “…the odds of that are like, a billion to one. You’d have a better chance of finding a dollar on the street, buying a lottery ticket, and winning the lottery than for this lady to somehow wind up being your neighbor in itty bitty, middle-of-nowhere Lilly Valley.”

“This is what I’m saying.”

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