Secrets in the Moon (Crescent City Werewolves #1)

Chapter Two

"You have a wonderful car." Cora beamed as they flew down a road that took them away from the city, every twist and turn handled with aplomb by Detective Hayes. It was a convertible model, and he had put the fabric top down to let the crisp air whip at their hair and clothes. After three weeks of hiding from reporters in a house made stuffy with worry and wilting bouquets, hurtling through the elements felt utterly refreshing.

As she looked out at the scrubby grass and untamed blackberry hedges flanking the road—the first signs of entering wild land, no man's land—she remarked, "I've never ridden in a KB Victoria before. The engine runs as smoothly as butter."

And in her very short acquaintance with Detective Hayes, she'd never seen him as relaxed as while behind the wheel. His mouth had eased into a slight smile and the gold of his eyes glinted with boyish excitement. She had no doubt that, on his own, he would lose himself in the thrill of speed, in an unseen chase that left behind all troubles.

Her comment now brought some wryness to his grin. "Big fan of cars, Miss Marshall?"

She leaned her head back against the seat as the first aspen trees appeared, slender as matchsticks and just as neatly lined up. "Since I agreed to tell the truth, I'll admit I worried about the car more than my father when he first disappeared. Well, the car and Tierney, although I didn't know him very well."

"Dominic Tierney. Your father's driver."

Cora nodded, unsurprised that the detective already knew about him. Poor Tierney had been under severe scrutiny in the papers for the first few days. "He's been with us for three years. Father hired him after buying the car—it was a Bugatti Royale, you see. Monstrously big, and my father didn't want to muscle around such a beast."

"Did you ever take it out by yourself?"

"All the time. It was a stately old thing but handled the road beautifully for its size."

Admiration slid into the detective's voice. "Elegant, too. Whalebone knobs, walnut steering wheel, and a shiny blue-and-grey paint job. Anyone who has one is driving art."

Cora turned from the view of ducks bobbing in a pond to stare at him. How did he know such details? The papers had only printed photos of the charred wreck found by police. Then the answer came to her, and she found herself smiling. "Well, Detective, you might be the first good decision I've ever made. You looked into the entire case before meeting me this morning, didn't you? Even to the point of reading through classified police files."

"I wanted to know what I was getting myself into."

He had a way of saying things with that voice of his. It was how Cora had always imagined a werewolf's voice would sound—deep and smooth, with just enough of a growl to turn innocent syllables into something suggestive. Listening to it was like the afterburn of whisky on the throat.

If he was the first thrilling man she'd met, she would have been too flustered to do more than run a hand over her hair like a schoolgirl. But he wasn't, and anyway she was too interested in hearing what the cops had on her. "Do you still have them? The case files? I want to see how close they are to truly arresting and charging me."

Her question brought a certain gravity into the air between them, and after a moment he said, "Close enough that I want to work fast on this, Miss Marshall. It's another fifteen minutes to the site, so let's hear your version of what happened the day your father disappeared."

"I don't know much. I really don't."

"It's all right. Just tell me everything you remember, no matter how small or silly."

Cora looked out her window, taking in the green swathes of countryside around them. The clusters of flowers, and the little wooden fences, and the distant cottages with their chickens and chimney smoke all looked so innocent, so tranquil. Then she angled her head enough to see what waited ahead: a glowering ridge of birch that marked the beginning of Corpsewood, the forest that butted up against the east side of the city. The forest where her father's car had been found.