Chapter Seven
They were both hungry, and it was too late to go knocking on anybody else’s doors without being greeted with either a face full of lead or a mouthful of fangs, so Krista directed him to Floyd’s Diner. There was always the hope that someone there might talk to Krista if she had a chance to get a minute alone with them.
Floyd, as Krista recalled, was sweet on Hattie. Maybe that would help. Floyd was a widower, and Hattie was a determined spinster, but when Krista had been living in Flowering Dogwood, Floyd kept hoping he could change Hattie’s mind.
Floyd’s was a classic 1950s diner right off the main road that cut through Flowering Dogwood. It was shaped like a silver train car, and the “y” in the neon sign was broken and had been for as long as Krista could remember. As in, the last couple of decades. Krista actually felt a fierce burn of nostalgia flare up inside her as they pulled in to the parking lot. She and her high school friends, saving up their quarters to buy a greasy burger and fries… that was the highlight of their week. Not all of her memories of Flowering Dogwood were bad.
As they climbed out of the car, tension twisted in her stomach. Their visit to the Reeds’ cabin had given them questions rather than answers.
Eva-Jo had all but openly told Krista not to sniff around—but was that because she knew something about Ethan or just a general warning not to mess with Reed family business?
The Reeds must know about Ethan’s disappearance—they could hardly have missed a frantic bunch of lions searching for a cub right next to property where they owned a cabin. Eva-Jo hadn’t mentioned it, but that could be because if it didn’t affect the Reeds, the Reeds didn’t give a hoot.
Her dark thoughts were interrupted when she caught sight of Linda-Fae Dyer, bathed in the yellowish light of the diner’s parking lot and up to her furry little neck in trouble, as she so often was. She was a raccoon shifter. As such, she was a little too huggy—which was partly sincere sweetness and partly raccoon tricksiness—and had “nimble fingers”.
Most people were pretty good-natured about her compulsively light fingers—she was perky and giggly, and the second she was caught, she always passed it off as if it were some kind of hilarious practical joke she’d just played. The problem was that this time she’d lifted Bo Durian’s wallet. And he was looming over Linda-Fae now, lips peeled back in a snarl and ears gone pointy and furry.
Bo Durian was the biggest wolf shifter in the holler. He was sort of friends with Percy, which spoke volumes. He’d bullied Krista in high school in a bored, casual way, like she was hardly worth tormenting, but he’d do it out of a sense of obligation. Then again, he’d given the same treatment to anyone weaker than him.
The little raccoon shifter giggled nervously, holding out Bo’s wallet. “Here. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just take it back.”
The wolf reached out one massive, heavy hand and let it drop on Linda-Fae’s shoulder, just a little too close to her breast for comfort. She squirmed and flinched, trying to take a step back, but Bo followed her. “Well now,” he growled. “I reckon you owe me a little something for my time and trouble…”
But before he could do anything, Blake was there, his wolf propelling him with the corner of his mouth lifted in a snarl. He grabbed Bo’s hand before he could do any damage to Linda Fae and growled, “You probably don’t want to do that.”
Lord save us from good, brave, chivalrous, dumb-as rocks men.A bloody fight in a parking lot, with everyone watching avidly through the windows of the diner, was the last thing they needed right now. What part of “follow my lead” was Blake having a hard time with? All of it, apparently.
Before the guys could wolf out and start tearing chunks off each other, she needed to defuse the situation. So she waved at Bo and smiled. It would be best to deflect his attention. “Hey, Bo. Long time.”
He narrowed his yellow wolf eyes at her for a long moment, then recognition replaced his anger.
“Why, if it isn’t Krista Ellis.” He snatched his wallet from Linda Fae’s hand. Then a mean smile twisted his lips, and he moved in towards Krista to try to give her a hug.
Krista knew the hug wasn’t for her. It was for Blake. Bo wasn’t a huggy kind of person, and the only time he’d paid attention to her in high school was when he was leading the jocks in chants of “fatty fatty two by four” whenever Krista walked by. He’d picked on her because of the extra pounds she carried and because he liked nothing better than pushing people’s buttons. And that was what he was doing now—trying to get a rise out of Blake by hitting on what he assumed was his girl.
She skipped back quickly.“No hugs,” she said quickly. “Bo’s my mate.” She didn’t need to explain further.
He shrugged, stepping back and looking her up and down in that creepy way he had. His gaze was like a shower of filth splashing over her; she suppressed a shudder. “Whew-ee, girl! Just look at you. All cityfied and ree-fined.” He emphasized the words—which were meant as an insult—with a flare of his hands.
Linda-Fae took the opportunity to scurry as fast as her little feet could carry her, giggling hysterically out of nervousness, running towards the diner.
Krista smiled tightly. She wasn’t going to rise to the bait. “Still working the mine?”
She knew that wasn’t the case because the mine had closed; she was just making idle chit-chat while she studied his face and body language to see if he gave anything away.
The mine had been closed down for the past three years because of a cave-in. Half a dozen miners had been injured. Dawnie had declared it was too dangerous to work, and the government had found the experienced local miners reluctant to go against her say-so.
Of course, it was a classic Dawnie maneuver. She came across as the Matriarch of the Mountain yet again, all fierce protectiveness and only looking out for her people, but she’d also shut down the biggest employer in the area—which meant that the local shifters were that much more dependent on her.
Those were the mines that Michael Coffman had been planning to open back up again. They still had rich seams which hadn’t been worked yet.
“Nah, girl. They gone bust.” He turned and assessed Blake while chewing on what had to be a toothpick.
She hadn’t even realized people still chewed toothpicks. But of course, Bo would. He never went anywhere without them. There’d be a stash of them in the left front pocket of his shirt.
He dragged his harsh gaze back to her. “Been working with Dawnie. She’s really stepped up for the holler since the mine’s shut down.”
“Good to hear.” She purposefully kept her expression pleasantly blank, even though Bo’s presence and his unwashed reek brought back a million bad memories.
