Play That Funky Music White Koi (A Lemon Layne Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “You’ve managed to hide from these people. If you can do it, so can I.”

  “I’ve had forty years of experience fooling humans, girl. I made a lot of mistakes in the beginning. I’ve only been in Moonrise for a handful of years, and if things go well, I can stay here for another fifteen or twenty before folks start wondering why I’m not looking a lot older.”

  The soft dip at the apex of his upper lip revealed longstanding grief.

  “You look a lot like him,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “My dad.”

  “Fine.” Buzz sighed. “You can stay for a little while, but I have a one-bedroom trailer and no place to keep you.”

  “I’ll find a place to stay.” Surely they had a B&B or a local motel. I didn’t have much money, but it would be enough to get me by for a few weeks.

  “Buzz,” Freda yelled back. “You got customers. Church crowd’s coming in.”

  “Busiest time of the week,” Buzz said. He ushered me out of the chair and toward the door. “Go get some lunch.” With a wink, he added, “On me.”

  * * * *

  I sat on one of the counter stools. The vinyl covering was a bit rough on its pipe-seam edges and snagged on my chocolate-brown leggings. Luckily, it didn’t tear a hole. I placed my coat on the seat next to me.

  “Hey, there. I’m Freda.” The waitress stood across the counter from me and pointed to her name tag. “Can I get you started with some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” The heat in the diner made me realize just how cold I’d been. “That would be great.”

  She slid a laminated menu across to me. “Be right up, sugar.”

  “No sugar,” I said.

  She looked at me funny.

  “I like my coffee just straight black.”

  “Oh.” She smiled. “I got ya.” She winked. “I’ll leave off bringing the cream and sugar around.”

  “Thanks, Freda. I’m Lily, by the way.”

  She smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

  A few moments later, she came back with a piping-hot cup of black coffee.

  “You know what you want to eat yet?”

  “I’ll take the triple-decker bacon burger with double cheese, double bacon. All the fixings and a side of fries.”

  Freda raised a brow, her lip curling on one side into an amused smirk. “Where you going to put all that food, honey? You’re just a tiny little thang.”

  “I have hollow legs,” I said seriously.

  “Just like your cousin. He’s a helluva good cook, and the way he eats, it’s no wonder.” She laughed. It was a nice sound. “Buzz,” she hollered as she traversed to the kitchen window and hung the check. “Order in.”

  The coffee was good and hot. Freshly brewed. I liked that the diner didn’t let a pot sit around all day after breakfast. Fifteen minutes later, my food arrived. The three beef patties were thick and juicy, four slices of bacon, and lots of gooey cheese made my mouth water. I inhaled the delicious fire-grilled aroma. On the side, there was a large tomato slice, onions, and hamburger pickle chips. The bun was buttered and toasted to perfection. And the fries… Oh my goodness, the fries. They were thick cut, crispy on the outside… I took a bite. Tender on the inside. Salted just right. Sheer nirvana.

  “Are you okay?” Freda asked. “You look like you’re having a religious experience.”

  I giggled as I ate another fry. “I think I am.” Uncle Buzz made an awesome burger. I took another big bite and resisted the urge to hum.

  The booths had filled up with families in a wide variety of ages and dressed in their finest clothes. A woman with hair the color of margarine walked in and dusted her feet on the welcome mat. She wore an expensive wool and cashmere double-breasted coat. The collar was high on her neck, and the hem hit her mid-thigh. The narrow shoulders fit her slim figure and made her appear classically regal. By the way she scanned the room, I was certain it was the appearance she wanted to affect.

  I’d seen her kind before and suffered the slings and arrows of their sharp tongues. I hunched my shoulders and then forced myself to relax. I had nothing to fear from a human.

  She cast a gaze at the man sitting nearest the door, the one who wore the string tie.

  “I didn’t see you in church this morning, Edward.”

  He barely looked up from his coffee. “It’s not against the law, Katie. Otherwise, you’d have sent the sheriff.”

  She hushed her voice, but with my cougar ears, I could easily hear her words. “How does is look to have my own brother miss Rex’s service?”

  Edward didn’t bother trying to match her lower tone. “You married a preacher. Not me.” Several of the patrons shifted uncomfortably as the mood of the diner sobered.

  “He’s a reverend, Edward. Not a two-bit preacher.”

  “I’m sure God could care less about titles.”

  The woman he called Katie stood up straight and looked as if she would say more, but a man walked in behind her. “Let’s get a seat, Katherine,” he said. He looked at the man seated in the booth. “Afternoon, Ed.”

  Edward nodded. “Rex.”

  Ah, the reverend husband. It felt odd listening in on their conversation from across the room, but I grew up in a town where privacy only happened at home and sometimes not even then. There are no secret conversations in a room full of Shifters.

  “Heya, Reverend Kapersky. Mrs. Kapersky,” Freda said to the couple with less enthusiasm than when she’d greeted me. “Y’all have a seat, and I’ll come ’round with some coffee.”

  Whispers began as they sat at the last open table. “I hate her,” I heard someone say. “Shhh,” said another. “Old bat is going to take it too far one day.”

  My uncle came out of the back. “Afternoon, Rev.” He smirked and winked at Katherine Kapersky. “Aren’t you looking like a ripe peach on a hot summer day?”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied. “The next council meeting, you won’t be such a wise-cracker.”

  “You know you don’t want a food chain coming in and killing local business.”

  “Well, you ain’t exactly local, are you, Buzz?”

  The cop Nadine slid from her seat just a few places down from me. “Buzz has been here long enough for us to count him as hometown, Mrs. Kapersky.”

  Freda positioned herself between Buzz and the vile woman. “That’s the truth,” she added.

  Katherine eyed the waitress and the young female officer with disdain. “You shut it, Nadine Booth. If you ever want to be sheriff, you’ll keep in mind who you disrespect.”

  “Like you’d ever throw your hat in for me,” Nadine mumbled.

  “Let it go,” my uncle said. He smiled again at the unlikeable woman. “The usual for y’all? Wedge salad for the missus and a BLT for you, Rev?”

  In reply, Katherine Kapersky took off her jacket and handed it to Freda to hang up before she sat down.

  “Thank you, Buzz. That’d be nice,” Reverend Kapersky said.

  I wished I could say I’d never met anyone as miserable as the Kapersky woman, but unfortunately, people like her were always around.

  Freda took a tray with a BLT on toasted sourdough, and a wedge of lettuce with bacon crumbles, finely diced tomatoes, chopped chives, crisply tart Granny Smith apple slices, and finished off with a creamy bleu cheese dressing (according to the menu) to the reverend and his sourpuss wife.

  “Enjoy,” Freda said, and somehow managed to make the nicety imply that they could, “choke on it.” Katherine Kapersky didn’t even acknowledge Freda. I hated to pass judgment on someone I didn’t know, but this Katie woman made it easy. She was terrible with a heaping side of bitter.

  “Ow!” she shouted and spit a mouthful of salad onto her plate. She picked up a small piece of bacon, examined it and put it back down, her expression sour.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Reverend Rex asked benignly.

  Buzz came out of the kitchen. “What happened?”

  She glared at him. “Other than y
our bacon being hard as a rock, everything is just peachy.” To her husband, she said, “I think I chipped a crown.”

  “I’m sorry, Katie. You want something else from the kitchen? I have cherry pie.” He smiled.

  I saw the woman soften for a microsecond before her expression once again matched her unpleasant personality. “So I can choke on a pit? No, thank you.”

  I heard someone mutter how they’d like to choke her.

  Katherine Kapersky pushed her plate aside and hissed to her husband, “Hurry up.”

  With great tolerance, the reverend pushed his plate forward and stood up to get his coat on.

  Buzz shook his head but held his tongue. “Have a nice day, folks.” He wiggled his brows as he passed me on the way back to the kitchen. “Welcome to Moonrise, Lily.”

  Chapter 3

  An hour later, I waited at the intersection by the garage, the one with the broken sign. Traffic was light, but I still had to wait for a few cars and trucks. A young man in a full-size gray pickup gestured to me to cross. I gave him a wave of thanks and headed to the other side.

  A blaring horn startled me. “Look out!” I heard someone shout.

  Behind me, a black sedan zoomed past the broken sign and raced toward me.

  My first impulse was to use my cougar strength to leap away from harm, but something slammed into me from behind, and I landed several feet from the street. I rolled to my back and blinked up at the heavy beast that had just saved my life.

  A dog. A great big dog, white and rusty-brown in color, stood over me with its tongue lolling to one side as its ears twitched left and right. Its wide mouth split its adorable face in a smile. Its breath was something to behold—somewhere between sweaty socks and spoiled lima beans. Poor baby needed a mint!

  I sat up. It sniffed at me. I sniffed back. I could tell by the lack of über-charged testosterone in the dog’s scent she was female.

  “Good girl,” I said, running my hand over her chest and front quarter. She thanked me by licking the side of my face.

  I laughed.

  All this sounds like it took minutes, but really it was seconds. A man grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled her back as I got up from the asphalt.

  “Are you okay?” the guy asked.

  “I’m fine.” And for the first time since I’d left Paradise Falls, I really felt okay. I stood up, dusting the snow and street from my puffy winter coat as we got out of the road. I noticed with more than a little disgust that my leggings had a hole in the right knee. Still, it was better than being road kill. “Your dog saved me.” I smiled at the pittie and scratched under her chin. “She’s a real beauty.”

  “Hold up, girl.” He gently tugged the dog. “Wow, I’ve never seen her this excited.”

  “She’s a hero,” I told him. I took off my gloves and knelt down to rub her cheeks, enjoying the warmth on my hands. “Aren’t you?” I devolved into baby talk. “Yes, you are. Such a good-good girl. A sweet baby. Yes, you are.”

  The dog yanked free of the dude and leaned her body into mine, her wiggly butt gyrating as her giant tail whacked me. The only other time I remember getting tail-whacked like that was when my brother and I played together in our cougar forms. He used to think it was hilarious to tail-smack me. The bittersweet memory made me sigh.

  The dog, as if sensing my melancholy, wedged herself under my arm as if she were trying to hug me. I can’t explain what happened next because I’d never felt anything like it before. A wave of utter adoration washed over me.

  I fell in love with this furry bundle of energy.

  “She really likes you.” He said it as if she didn’t like everyone. A baby as sweet as she was, I found it hard to believe she wasn’t the most popular pet in town.

  “Aww, come here,” I said, looping my arms around her and scratching down her back. I let my gaze go to the man who’d tried to rescue me from my rescuer—and froze.

  He was tall and broadly built, though it was hard to tell how much was him and how much was his winter coat. He had dark-brown hair and ocean-blue eyes. I caught the scent of honey and mint on him. Most likely a cologne or body spray. It smelled really nice.

  His square jaw worked back and forth as he considered me. “Are you new in town?”

  “I’m not from here, if that’s what you mean.” The dog licked my hands. I brushed my palms over her ears. “Aren’t you so smooshie? Such a sweet smooshie girl. What’s her name?”

  He smiled, and my stomach dipped. “Smooshie sounds like a great name.”

  “Doesn’t she already have a name?”

  “I’ve been calling her ‘girl’ mostly.”

  I noticed then the scars around the dog’s cheeks, but she looked healthy otherwise.

  As if he could read my mind, he said, “I own a pit bull rescue. She was in a foster home for a couple of months with some friends of mine, but they just couldn’t take care of her anymore, and we’ve been having trouble finding someone to adopt her.” He crossed his arms. “You wouldn’t be interested in adopting Smooshie, would you?”

  My stomach squeezed, and my chest filled with heartache for the dog. I knew him saying the dog’s name, calling her Smooshie, was a ploy to play on my sympathy, but this sweet girl had me at first lick.

  “I think she’s adopted me,” I finally said. “So I guess I have to let her take care of me.” Smooshie licked my hand, her long tongue getting into every crevice between my fingers. I’m sure the hamburger I’d scarfed played a huge role in her attentive kisses.

  “Good.” He clicked a leash onto her collar. “I think you two are a perfect fit. You really seem to know your way around a dog. You ever own one?”

  “No,” I said. But I am a Shifter, I didn’t believe in owning animals. Despite the whole cat-versus-dog stereotypes, werecats, in general, didn’t mind werewolves. Or dogs. Especially this one. “We’ll be friends,” I told Smooshie. The dog wiggled happily.

  The man’s blue eyes sparkled as his gaze met mine. “I’m Parker, by the way.”

  I had a moment of clarity meeting Smooshie and Parker. It reminded me of the time when I was five years old, and I was forced (and I mean physically) to attend Paradise Falls Elementary School. My mother and father had walked me to PFE on a mild August morning, kissed me on the forehead (after ten minutes of prying my claws—yes, I’d partially shifted into my Were form—from their legs), and ushered me to the long line of students waiting outside the front doors.

  I’d always been a solitary soul. I’d easily entertained myself for hours during the day, which made me a great child for my parents, but scored me zero points on the social interaction scale. So, it petrified me, as a loner, to be situated amongst a hundred other children who were all, much to my horror, taller than me.

  A lanky brunette wearing black leggings and a skull-adorned pink tunic stood in front of me, clutching her backpack to her chest and talking to herself, or so I assumed. I’d cast a glare of betrayal back at my parents, who both waved and smiled encouragingly. At that moment, I hated them for their treachery. I’d been happy at home in my own little Lily bubble, and the fact that they were making me go out in the world to face other people felt royally unfair.

  “Stop that,” I heard the girl in front of me say. “No, you have to stay inside.”

  I personally thought she was nutty as a walnut tree.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me and said, “Your hair matches Tizzy’s.”

  I thought she was insulting me until a tiny head popped out of the backpack, and the small red squirrel said, “Letmesee, Haze!”

  And in those few seconds of meeting my soon-to-be future BFF and her exuberant flying-squirrel familiar, I no longer felt abandoned and stranded.

  So when Parker offered me his hand to shake, I took it. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lily.”

  “Are you all right, Miss Mason?” asked the mechanic Greer Knowles. He strolled quickly toward Parker and me. For an older gentleman, he moved with ease.

  “Yes.
” I put my mittens back on because between the cold wind and Smooshie’s saliva, a patch of ice was forming on my palms. “Thanks.”

  “That damn four-way is going to get someone killed.”

  “Morning, Dad,” Parker said. Apparently, the nice-smelling dog rescuer was the mechanic’s son. “You know the council is never going to approve the money for a stop sign.”

  “They will when someone dies.” Greer shook his head and turned his attention to me. “Good news. You sheared the distributor. Bad news, the part I need to fix your car is in Oklahoma. It will be Tuesday before it gets here.”

  “How much?”

  “Forty-eight for the part, plus twenty-five labor.”

  It was a fair price. More than fair, but I couldn’t help but think about the chunk it would eat out of my savings, especially since I didn’t have a job. Every cent I had would need to last me.

  “Thanks,” I said. Smooshie contented herself to stay next to me, and I admit, having her close made me feel more calm and centered. She was better than a mood stone.

  “I’ve rarely seen a dog so taken with someone right from the get-go,” Parker said. “You want to come down to the rescue and fill out the paperwork?”

  “Sure,” I said. I had nowhere to live. Which meant, the dog was going to be just as homeless as I was right now. Jeez, I hadn’t thought this through.

  “Uhm, Parker.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m just visiting family for a couple of days. I don’t even have a place to stay yet. I doubt if a B&B will let me keep Smooshie. Can you keep her for a couple more days?”

  Parker smiled. “I have a studio apartment over my garage. It’s just a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchenette, but you’re welcome to it as long as you need it.”

  “It’ll only be two or three days at the most.”

  He waved me off. “However long.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re kind, Lily. I can tell in the way you are with Smooshie. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all I need to know.”

  “Parker!” a woman shouted. “Parker Knowles!” I looked up to see Katherine Kapersky sprinting toward us. She looked ready to spit nails. For such a put-together woman, she had an attitude worse than a skunk Shifter’s. And they were as crotchety as shapeshifters come.