She laughed, which made her eyes flash and her voice go sultry. “You’re funny too. I didn’t know Shifters would have a sense of humor. I’m glad I met you, Graham. Slapped my ideas right in the face.”
The elevator doors opened. Misty pressed the call button so it would stay there, but she didn’t get on. “Guess I’d better go. If I’m late to that meeting—well, let’s just say it won’t be good.”
“You decide to get the tatt, come to Shiftertown and ask for me. I’ll have my friend do yours.”
“Is he another Shifter?”
“He’s a wolf. Best tatt artist I’ve ever met.”
“Huh. I’ll have to think about that. See you, Graham.”
Graham lifted his hand in a silent good-bye. Misty smiled at him, a warm, genuine smile, no fear in her eyes, and stepped onto the elevator. She waved at him as the doors closed, and then she was gone.
Graham stared at the closed doors of the elevator for a long time, unnerving feelings stirring inside him, before he finally turned away and sought his Harley.
“Melissa Granger?”
Misty pulled herself out of the daze her second encounter with the Shifter called Graham had sent her into, and looked at the man speaking to her.
He had a balding head and wore a business suit, one that must have cost him a lot of money. A lawyer of some kind. Probably a prosecutor with that expensive suit. Defenders were notoriously underpaid.
She stopped her walk across the courthouse lobby. “Yes?”
He stuck out a well-cared-for hand. “My name’s Kellerman. Frank Kellerman. Are you a friend of Mr. McNeil?”
“Of who?” She’d never heard of Kellerman, or McNeil. Nothing to do with her.
“The Shifter you were talking to in the garage. Graham McNeil.”
He’d seen them? They’d been on the top floor of the parking garage, and Misty could have sworn no one else had been up there. Creepy.
“Oh, him,” she said. “I barely know him. Met him once or twice, that’s all.”
Kellerman smiled. He put an arm around Misty’s shoulders and started walking her toward a quiet corner. Very creepy.
“How would you like to do something for me?” Kellerman asked. “Something worth your while?”
Misty pulled away. “This might be a courthouse, but I’m not a prostitute on my way to a hearing. I’ve come to meet with my brother’s lawyers.”
“I know who you are, Ms. Granger.” Kellerman laughed a little, like she’d made a good joke. “What I’d like you to do is not illegal. I want you to get to know Mr. McNeil—Graham—a little better. And then tell me everything about him.”
Misty took a step back. “Make friends with him to spy on him? Why would I do that?”
“McNeil is a Shifter, and not a trustworthy one. He’s new around here, and I want to find out all about him.”
“Then ask him yourself.”
“I don’t think you quite understand, Ms. Granger.” Kellerman put his arm around her again, this time sinking his grip into her shoulder so she couldn’t pull away. “I know about your brother. I know about what he’s going through in prison. And I know members of the parole board, with whom I have much influence.”
Misty stopped, icy fingers touching her heart. “That’s…” She looked up into his cold face. “You’re evil.”
“Your brother committed a crime, for which he needs to pay,” Kellerman said in a matter-of-fact voice. “McNeil is dangerous and needs to be watched. You be my eyes and ears, and your brother might be released early. He can come home where he won’t be beat up every day.”
Misty found it difficult to breathe. She knew enough of the ways of the world to know she couldn’t readily trust him. If she said yes, if she helped this Kellerman, there was no guarantee he’d do what he promised for her little brother.
Kellerman was too slick, too sure of himself. He’d not bend over backward for a young man who’d made one stupid mistake at eighteen and was paying for it with an unfairly long sentence. She and Paul hadn’t been able to afford a good lawyer.
On the other hand, if Misty said no, a guy like Kellerman might make sure that Paul never got out of prison again. He’d have to stay in that place where gangs beat up on him every day, and no one did anything about it.
“Fine,” she snapped, ducking out from under his hand. “I’ll do it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
Kellerman took a thin card from his inside breast pocket. “Here’s my number. Call me when you have something to tell me. Make it soon.”
Misty snatched the card from his hand, jammed it into her purse, and clicked her way down the hall to the room at the end. She thought about Graham, the tall biker-looking Shifter, she thought about her gentle little brother Paul, and her heart hammered until she thought she’d be sick.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“But they didn’t spill what Shifters would be participating in?” Eric asked Graham that night.
“I told you six times. They didn’t seem worried about me finding out about the compound in the desert. Seemed happy when they realized I didn’t know what they were up to beyond that.”
Eric moved restlessly. He and Graham stood on Eric’s back porch in the cold darkness, the house lit behind him. Cassidy’s and Iona’s laughter drifted out, the two of them and Jace busy helping Jace move his stuff downstairs.
My mate, my mate, my mate. The words hummed through Eric’s head, drowning out Graham’s voice.
Eric still craved Iona with an intensity he hadn’t felt in many, many years. He wanted to be nowhere but curled up with her, buried inside her, surrounded by her warmth. Graham with his grating voice and Lupine scent was poor compensation.
“Damn it,” Eric said, heartfelt. “We’re going to have to search that compound again.”
“They were long gone this morning.”
“I know, but they might have left something behind.” Eric broke off and rubbed his temples.
“You okay, Warden?”
He shrugged. “No sleep.”
Graham barked a laugh. “That’s what happens when you chase a mate. You want to f**k all the time, no stopping for anything else. I loved it.”
Eric had found out everything he could on Graham, so he’d known that Graham had once had a mate. The information in the Guardian’s database had said that Graham’s mate had died trying to bring in his cub, and the cub had died as well.