“What the f**k is all this?” Tyler turned toward Danny. “When you didn’t answer your phone I thought that ass**le detective Ray Hart put a bullet in your brain.”
“No bullet, mate,” Danny said. “The reason I couldn’t call you is this guy here”—Danny gestured toward Jeff—”broke my bloody phone during our brief interlude. I couldn’t very well leave and go out and make a phone call, now could I? Then I had to deal with your neighbor well enough after she heard all the commotion. Though she makes an excellent pie. It was truly delicious.”
“Danny, what happened here?” I pushed by them and made my way out of the bathroom. I had to get away from the stench. They followed me into the living room. I placed my hands on my hips and turned in a full circle, trying to get my brain back on board with what I just witnessed. “I’m having trouble understanding why my super is lying dead in my bathtub.”
“Well, it’s a very simple story actually,” Danny started. “I was minding my own business, convalescing as ordered by your father. My wounds were quite severe, as I’m sure you were informed—not to worry, though, all shipshape now—when I heard someone sneaking into your apartment as bold as day. He wasn’t technically breaking in, you see, since he had his own key, but nevertheless he woke me out of a perfectly lovely sleep. I’d been dreaming about the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, who are, for the record, a naughty lot of—”
“Danny,” I said sharply. “Please stay on topic.”
“Of course. So naturally I did my duty and came out to investigate the disturbance. Our man was toting a rather large bag of very suspicious goods, and when he saw me he had the nerve to pull out a gun.” Danny infused some outrage. “Which I kindly knocked from his hands as quick as you like, and I was about to break his sorry little neck when out of nowhere he dropped to the floor and began shifting into a bloody weasel.”
“A what?” Tyler and I both balked.
“A bloody weasel shifter the size of a large dog.” Danny spread his hands to indicate a hefty size. “Then he jumped on my back like a possessed little f**k and went after my flesh like a piranha … scenting blood.”
Jeff was a shifter? Never in a million years would I have guessed that. The peach smell, obviously his signature scent, wouldn’t have meant much to me as a human, and he’d definitely stayed clear of me since. He must have had a lackey deliver my new set of door keys, because I would’ve picked up the peach scent if he had brought them himself. But the million-dollar question was, what did he want? And who was he working for? There was no way a guy like Jeff Arnold was a one-man operation. He didn’t have enough motivation in one of his pinky fingers, let alone enough brainpower to hatch a plan to catch a wolf. He was likely recruited for the job or someone had forced him into it. Either way, it shouldn’t be too hard to track down the trail.
“I’ve never heard of a wereweasel before,” my brother said. “And I’m positive I’ve never smelled one.” He wrinkled his nose. “I would’ve remembered that stink anywhere.”
“Well, I can assure you they bloody well exist,” Danny bristled. “But what the little shite wasn’t expecting was a werewolf counterattack, and I’d like to kindly point out that a weasel and a wolf make a highly unbalanced fight. After I shifted, it took me under three seconds to take him out.”
“You shifted? Right here?” I asked. “In my apartment?”
“Of course I shifted,” Danny said indignantly. “I had to shake off the bloody wereweasel who was ripping chunks out of my back with his devilish little claws and sharp, pointy teeth. I couldn’t get the bastard off without shifting. But, of course, that’s when the detective came sniffing around, so I—”
“What!” I shouted, grabbing on to his arms. “Danny, you said this happened last night. Ray came here in the morning. Please tell me he did not see you shift!”
“No, I never said it was at night, you just assumed it was. And yes, he did see me, but I had almost fully finished by the time he came round, so he didn’t get to see the lot of it. But he did see me toss a weasel—the size of bloody Benji—against the wall. After that I had no choice—”
“Danny,” I half yelled, half begged. “Please tell me you did not kill Ray Hart.”
“Of course I didn’t kill him!” He had the nerve to look shocked like poor Jeff wasn’t lying in my bathroom lifeless. “I don’t kill people who don’t threaten me directly. No need to worry your pretty little head about it. I haven’t killed him, I’ve just tied him up in your closet for the time being. Not that we won’t be killing him later, because he’s uncovered our secret, but I couldn’t just let him walk out of here, now could I?”
I stood there frozen. Ray was tied up in my closet?
Danny continued without pausing, “Damn well nearly pissed his pants when I launched myself at him. It was lucky for me he fainted dead away. Always makes the job of securing them a whole lot easier when they go limp. But I didn’t actually realize it was the detective until Nick came by just in time to fob off the police when they came to the door searching for him. Nick convinced them they’d already checked this apartment thoroughly. Bloody convenient, persuasion is. Wish I had that knack. It’s quite handy in a mess like this.”
I didn’t bother to answer, since I was already running down the hallway toward my bedroom.
My bed had been well slept in and the floor was littered with takeout bags and empty plates. It seemed poor Danny hadn’t been without resources after all.
I approached the closet doors slowly and stood there for a full minute gathering myself. I wasn’t sure what I was going to see when I whipped them open, and visions of the recent dead man in my bathtub gave me pause.
My fingers grazed the knobs and in one motion I yanked the accordion doors back. To my immediate relief there was a very angry, but very alive, detective sitting on a pile of my shoes.
He was gagged with what looked to be a pair of my pantyhose. Both Ray’s hands were tied behind his back with something I couldn’t see, but it seemed to be holding him well enough. He glowered at me with so much hatred and loathing—if he’d been a wolf, I might have shied away for a second.
But he wasn’t.
I squatted down to his level. “Hi, Ray. So glad to see you’re alive and well. Are you enjoying your little stay in my closet?”