His shirt was wrinkled, his hair was doing something architectural, and there was toothpaste on his collar.
Something was definitely going on with that werewolf.
Bo peered out from under the table. “He looks terrible.”
Samuel finally raised his head and examined his brother with a frown. “You’re right.”
Bo slowly wagged his tail, his expression brightening. “In fact, he looks just like you did after Abby and you first started performing your conjugal duties.”
Victoria’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly. I had the decency to blush.
“Hey, I never had toothpaste on my collar,” Samuel protested.
Luckily, Bo decided not to pursue that line of conversation.
I was halfway through my eggs when I noticed the Husky fidgeting beside my chair.
“What is it?”
Bo wagged his tail in short, excited bursts. “I have something to report.”
I was instantly wary. Victoria’s hand tightened on her pen. Pearl’s ears twitched. The report wrinkled in Samuel’s grip as he unconsciously flexed his fingers.
Past experience has taught everyone at the Hawthorne mansion that this statement could lead to Bo divulging anything from the state of his digestion to what a squirrel had told him that morning to something he’d done that had gone horribly wrong and was going to cost somebody a lot of money to fix.
“You do?” I finally said.
Bo sat up straight. “You know how I have my canine circle?”
Samuel and I exchanged a glance.
“The social howl thing?” Samuel askedcarefully.
“Yes. We had a very productive session last night.” Bo’s chest puffed out. “Marshmallow heard from Gus, who heard from Rosie—she’s the Jack Russell who lives five doors down from him, very well connected that dog—who heard from the cemetery groundskeeper’s poodle that there’s been weird stuff happening near the old industrial district.”
Victoria heaved a sigh of relief, as did I.
Marshmallow was the Saint Bernard who lived one street over from my old apartment in East Valley. Gus was the bulldog who lived across the street from him and Rosie was the Jack Russell from five doors down.
So far, none of this sounded like it was going to be expensive.
Pearl’s grooming had paused. The cat swiveled one ear in Bo’s direction.
“Weird stuff,” I repeated, more to indulge the Husky than anything. “Like what?”
“Lights at strange hours. Vehicles at abandoned buildings. That kind of thing.” Bo wagged his tail harder. “Could be something important, right?”
It was vague at best.
“It could be.”
Bo grinned and swept the floor with his tail, almost tripping Hugh on his return from the sideboard.
Pearl’s eyes had shrunk to slits.
“Your social howl appears to be ideal for reconnaissance, mutt,” the cat observed like she was passing a kidney stone. “Not bad for a group of canines.”
Samuel almost dropped his fork. Victoria stared, a little stunned.
