it. It was simple curiosity that made him look at the contents, a desire to know something more about this woman who made him feel things he hadn’t experienced in centuries.
Shel opened the wallet. His stomach fell into his boots. A smiling Lucy looked back at him from the small photo. He felt sick. The man behind her was a tall impeccably groomed businessman. He appeared to be the sort of man that had always set Shel’s teeth on edge. She leaned into the man and hugged the laughing toddler close.
He took a sudden deep breath remembering to breathe, and pulled out the bit of paper that peeked out from behind the photo. Newspaper. Shel carefully unfolded it choosing to ignore the fact that his hands shook and he was totally numb. He read the date and the words in the obituary three times before they sank in.
Shel bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. That explains the sadness in her. His heart hurt. The sight of the child brought back painful memories. Shel didn’t need to look at the objects but he did anyway dropping the two gold rings into his hand. After a long moment Shel slipped the rings back in their place and quietly put the wallet back in the bag.
Shel went to the galley pantry. He took a bottle of whiskey out along with a glass and poured a drink. After the third shot he headed up on deck. It would be a long time before he slept.
Chapter Three: I’ve Got A Flair
Shel tied the dinghy up at the dock and headed for the charter shack. He didn’t expect to find much but maybe their pursuers hadn’t found the hiding spot where he kept his emergency money. Shel had learned long ago the wisdom of having several stashes of money in case things went to hell. It was beginning to look like it might be sooner than he’d planned.
Inside he surveyed the destruction. Sergei’s goons had done a thorough job, right down to emptying the bait coolers. The stench of spoiled shrimp and dead fish made Shel gag. He kicked debris away from the wall and knelt beside the file cabinet. The baseboard came loose with a little effort. He pulled the trim away revealing the small hollow area it hid. Shel quickly transferred the neatly wrapped packet of hundred dollar bills to his jacket pocket. Habit made him replace the baseboard.
The noise of footsteps on the wooden porch alerted him to the arrival of someone. He stood quickly. The front door opened. Shel gave a mental curse as a familiar figure stepped into the room. He pulled out a strong brown Turkish cigarette and lit it, waiting for the man to speak.
James DeLong, private investigator and part time Werewolf, held a lurid crime scene photo out for Shel to look at. “Ava Romanov was pulled out of the surf two days ago. What was left of her anyway. Sergei Romanov has been following this woman.” DeLong held out another photo, Lucy standing at a table filled with junk. The garage sale. Shel cringed inside. How long had the mutt been watching the place? “We think she may know something about it. Last time anyone saw her, she was entering your charter business.” DeLong waved his hand to indicate the mess.
Shel drew a deep drag from the cigarette he was smoking. He squinted as the smoke burned his eyes but didn’t take his gaze away from the photo of Lucy. “What makes you think I saw her, Werewolf?”
DeLong shrugged, “A pretty woman comes into your business and you don’t notice? Get real. You have seen her haven’t you?”
Shel kept his voice steady despite the fact his heart beat double time. “What if I have?”
“We’d really like to talk to her.”
Shel snorted. I bet you would. “Doesn’t look like she’d be hard for you to track, DeLong. You lose your sense of smell?”
Delong gave him a dirty look. “Always the smart ass.”
“It’s a talent. What is this all about?” Shel ignored Delong’s grin.
“We think she has something of ours and we want it back. That simple.” Delong said.
Shel shook his head. “Oh yeah? Well if I see her around here I’ll let you know” Lucy… The thought of her anywhere near angry Werewolves made him nauseous.
“Shel…”
“Gotta run pooch, busy, busy you know,” Shel said. He stalked out, heading for the parking lot. He ignored DeLong shouting at him.
At his car, Shel stopped for a moment, thinking back to the beginning. He didn’t dare let himself hope but he knew it was useless to fight it. Lucy had already gotten to him. Shel got into the car and started it, his mind filled with memories of all the times he’d let himself believe he’d found the one to break the curse.
* * * *
Lucy sat down on the bunk, hugging the pillow to her. She buried her face in it. It smelled like the man who had turned everything upside down. Deep inside she’d always dreamed of meeting someone like him. Sheldon Jefferson had an aura of goodness about him. He might be rough around the edges but Lucy sensed a solid core of decency in him. Shel couldn’t have any idea what he did to her, the need she already felt for him. They’d known each other a little more than a day and he’d already taken up residence in Lucy’s heart.
Nothing in Lucy’s life had prepared her for the things she felt when Shel looked at her. It was as if he was the missing half of her soul. The physical desire that rocked Lucy made what she’d felt for Keith pale in comparison. The guilt was almost more than she could bear.
If only she could get away. Lucy wasn’t at all sure she was ready for this, but where could she go with people trying to kill them? Lucy put the pillow down and stood. She needed to do something, to move. Lucy made her way into the salon.
* * * *
Shel parked across the street from the hotel where Lucy was registered. People streamed in and out. It appeared to be a typical tourist hotel, nothing suspicious caught his attention. Might as well get this over with. He got out of the car and headed inside.
No one so much as glanced in his direction in the crowded lobby. Once he arrived on the eighth floor, Lucy had said her room number was 817, he waited until the hall was clear then quickly went to the door. He swiped the key card Lucy had given him and carefully stepped inside.
The room was thoroughly trashed. If the doll had been there, it wasn’t now. He picked up an old-fashioned white nightgown lying on the floor. He looked it over. It suited Lucy with its silk and lace and the fussy tiny pearl buttons. He brought it closer, inhaling deeply. Vanilla and flowers. A vision of her in the gown formed in his head. Shel’s mouth went dry.
He swore softly. Lucy’s clothes were everywhere, even hanging off the mirror. Shel gazed at the pink lace push up bra that dangled from the light fixture for a long moment. He couldn’t decide which was scarier; the fact that he knew it was a push up bra or the fact that the sight of it gave him a raging boner. Reaching out, Shel lifted it off the lampshade and snickered, helpless to stop it. Even as a Vampire, he was still a man first.
He took a deep breath and got himself under control. Well, time to get moving. After a quick glance around, Shel picked up the battered suitcase and began stuffing clothes into it. When he had everything, he did one last sweep of the room and left. On the way to the elevator, it dawned on him where the doll would be. Shel smiled.
* * * *
Shel heard the music a good hundred yards out from the yacht. Lucy had discovered the radio. Angry, he tied up and climbed aboard. Anyone could have come out there and been on Lucy before she
