As Lucy sat, she reevaluated her initial assessment of G.I Joe’s age. Prematurely graying hair had made him seem older at first glance. He was definitely on the nearer side of forty.
She smiled politely at Nora and the other council member, avoiding the glowering eyes. Even though they were compelling. And an intense deep cinnamon, just a shade darker than amber. Not that she noticed.
“I didn’t realize the town council would be here. Generally, people like to keep these matters hushed up.”
Nora tilted her head. “The choice of meeting place may have been unintentionally misleading. We’re not exactly the town council. We’re more like...the paracouncil.” She gave Lucy a slight smile. “We’re a volunteer group. But we’ve taken it upon ourselves to manage incidents that fall outside the normal operations of the town. With the council’s blessing. Unofficially.”
Lucy took out her phone to take notes. “So they do know about these paranormal occurrences.”
“Everyone knows.” The man on Nora’s other side shrugged. “Jerome is a small town. It’s hard not to know things. We just don’t talk about them. Except for the ghosts, of course.” He smiled. “They’re sort of our livelihood.”
Lucy nodded, uncertain whether he was being facetious. “I see. Thank you, Mr...”
Nora clucked her tongue. “So sorry, Ms. Smok. This is Wes Mason.”
Wes reached over the table to shake Lucy’s hand, his dark skin weathered and rough. “How do you do?”
“And Oliver Connery.” Nora indicated Barista G.I. Joe.
Lucy turned to him with a bland, polite expression. “Mr. Connery.”
He rose to shake her hand, maintaining a similar expression in return. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Smok.” The handshake was firm but not too firm.
Lucy sat back in her chair. “So you said there’s been werewolf activity?”
“We assume it’s a werewolf,” said Nora. “We haven’t personally gotten a good look at it.”
“You’re sure it’s not coyotes or stray dogs? And you’re certain it’s only one?”
“I think we all know the difference between a dog and a werewolf.” Oliver Connery wasn’t quite as unflappable as he’d pretended. The other two members of the council glanced at him, as if the defensive tone was out of character. He seemed to realize it and dialed it back. “We’ve spotted tracks matching the profile of wolves that disappear into human footprints. Normally, this wouldn’t be cause for alarm. Most shape-shifters just want to be left alone, and we believe in a live-and-let-live philosophy.”
“That’s not consistent with my experience, Mr. Connery.” Lucy calmly met his eyes. Now she was in her element. “Rogue shape-shifters are never benign. Every one I’ve dealt with has caused chaos and destruction.”
“Your experience? Forgive me, but you can’t really have much experience. I’m a little surprised, honestly, to find that someone so young is the CFO of Smok International. Or that the CFO herself would take this job.”
Lucy fixed her gaze on him. “I’ve been deeply involved with the company operations—both the biotech side and the paranormal-consulting side—since I was fifteen, and I started working as a consulting agent when I turned eighteen. I spent the last five years traveling Europe and the eastern states as Smok Consulting’s premier field agent before my father turned the business over to me prior to his death. And I am telling you—from experience—that shifters who aren’t actively managing their conditions and integrating with normal society are dangerous.”
Oliver opened his mouth, but Wes spoke first. “Ordinarily, I’d agree with Oliver, but this is a different breed. We’ve never encountered any so malevolent. It’s been responsible for at least three vicious attacks in the area—official reports are attributing the deaths to a rabid mountain lion, but we have eyewitnesses who claim to have seen a large, misshapen wolf. That’s why we’ve called you in. This is bigger than we can handle. We took a vote.” He glanced at Oliver a bit apologetically. “It was two to one in favor of bringing in professional help.”
“Well, you’ve made the right decision.” Lucy spared a cool glance at Oliver. “This is my area of expertise.”
Oliver’s strong jaw was tight. “I’m not sure I care for your use of the word normal, but despite my reluctance to bring in an outsider—whose motives are purely mercenary—I concurred with Nora and Wes’s assessment that this isn’t ordinary. If it’s a wolf, it’s like no wolf I’ve ever encountered.”
“You can’t have encountered many, Mr. Connery. Smok Consulting tracks this kind of activity closely, and we have no previous evidence of any werewolves in Jerome, Arizona.”
“You assume every werewolf in existence announces itself to you.”
Now, that was an odd thing to say. Perhaps Oliver Connery had experience after all. Personal experience.
“You assume all the unnatural creatures in our database are aware that they’re in it.”
One dark brow, in stark contrast to the silver in his hair, twitched.
Nora made an effort to regain control of the meeting. “So how do you usually approach these matters? Despite the fact that people are aware of certain odd goings-on in Jerome, we do want to maintain some discretion.”
Lucy nodded. “Absolutely. I’d like to start with a list of all reported sightings, including times and dates and any physical contact. And then I’ll survey each of the sites, interview any eyewitnesses who are willing to come forward and get to work tracking the creature or creatures down.”
“I’m not sure how many eyewitnesses will be willing to talk to you.” Nora and Wes shared a look. “But I’ll give you what I can.” She rose and shook Lucy’s hand again. “We’re very grateful for your help. In the meantime, Oliver will take you to the location of the most recent sighting so you can examine the physical evidence.”
Lucy paused as she rose with the others. “Oh... I wouldn’t want to put you out, Mr. Connery. I’m sure I can find it on my own.”
“Please, call me Oliver. And I’m sure you can’t.”
“You doubt my abilities?”
“I don’t have any idea what your abilities are. It’s not about your abilities. It’s just that it’s not something we can simply write down and give you directions to.”
One of her abilities was being able to kick the asses of men twice her size. She supposed she could put that ability to use if she had to. Again.
Lucy shrugged. “Well, if it won’t inconvenience you.” She nodded to Nora and Wes as they headed out into the hallway before she turned to give Oliver a pointed look as he came around the table. “I suppose you have someone to cover your shift?”
“My shift?” He stopped in front of her, forcing her to look up.
“Aren’t you working at the coffee shop?” She smiled darkly. “You did say it opened at noon.”
Oliver chuckled, hooking his thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans. “I don’t work there.”
Lucy frowned, the usual potency of her practiced icy stare diluted by having to look up. “Then what were you doing there?”
“I live upstairs.” He smiled back at her as if they were having a perfectly friendly conversation. “I own the place.”
“Oh.”
“So that coffee and muffin you stole come directly out of my profits.”
She didn’t normally lose her temper, but there was something about this guy that totally pushed her buttons.