Secrets in the Moon (Crescent City Werewolves #1)

Chapter Six

The shopping trip had been very successful, and Cora was smiling even before she saw Detective Hayes waiting by his car in the driveway. She waved at him while parking. "Hayes! You're early."

He smiled slightly. "No, Miss Marshall, you're late. I said I'd be here at nine. It's nine-thirty."

"Oh. I have warned you that tardiness is a lifelong habit of mine." She got out just as he walked over to join her. "I had to get my hair done, of course, and there were a few items I needed for our meeting with the Saxby Pack today."

Then she pulled a hat from its box and brandished it for his inspection. It had a delicate veil that would fall over her eyes at an angle and was studded with real pearls. "I doubt I can convince them that I'm anything more than a frivolous heiress, so why not play that to the hilt and make them underestimate me instead?"

"And the rest of these?" said Hayes, eyeing how bags and paper-wrapped parcels filled every area of the car that wasn't the driver's seat. Multiple servants had already appeared to take them inside.

"Detective, it's impossible to stop with just one thing."

His baffled expression suggested he didn't agree, but he only said, "Miss Marshall, I always admire your moxie, but we're going to be stretched for time and I still need to brief you on what to expect. You'd better swap hats now so we can get going."

"Swap hats? Oh, no. I've got an entire outfit planned." She picked out two parcels in particular and began after the servants, who were trying to see over their armfuls.

"What's wrong with your current one?"

"It's all wrong. I've thought about this very carefully and know just what to wear. It won't take me long to change. I promise."

He checked his watch but followed her with nothing more than a sigh.

It was strange to consider how they had reached an agreement about this meeting in much the same situation—her behind a screen while changing, and him pacing throughout the room. Now, though, she wasn't trying to tease him and could tell that he was in no mood for it anyway. She'd never seen him so tense.

She spoke while stripping down, tossing her clothes aside without care. Each piece of her new outfit waited within easy reach. "I'm listening, Hayes."

"So far, everything is playing out as expected. According to my sources, only the diplomat and the royal inspector from the Saxbys will be there. The alpha-king had second thoughts after hearing we chose the Frosthound Pack to host the meeting."

"Is that good news or bad news?" Then she unwrapped one of the parcels and studied what was in it. Her tailor was used to much odder requests from his various clients and hadn't even raised an eyebrow when she'd put in the order last week. He was a stiff, humorless man but did wonderful work—she was able to fit the material around her thigh without any interference from her stockings and garter belt.

As she reached for the second parcel, Hayes said, "It's hard to tell. There won't be as many guards, but without their alpha-king to keep them cowering, the Saxbys will be more aggressive."

"You sound very sure of that."

"I've been in meetings like this. We'll all be on edge. Every wolf there will be under a spell to hide their scent. It's a common tactic during negotiations where no one wants to give anything away."

"Well, that doesn't affect me."

"No, but it makes us feel... blind. We judge a lot by what we can smell."

"That's very good to know." She meant every word, since it reassured her that the thaumaturgist she'd seen really had known his stuff when it came to slipping things past wolves.