Page 34 of Last Call at the Doghouse

“I don’t know what…”

“Cut the crap,” Nelson snapped. “I saw you last night.” He grinned. “And you saw me.” He turned to Armi then. “Nelson Lovell, former Bigfoot hunter, current Bigfoot shifter. One of two in Mystic Springs. I have no idea how many like me there are in the world, but more than two, most likely.”

Her focus narrowed; her vision grayed a little. “Are you saying that Duncan is…”

“Bigfoot, no. Shifter…” Again, Nelson glared across the table. “Most definitely.”

Armi stared at Duncan. His expression said caught as surely as if he was a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “He would’ve told me.”

“Would he?” Nelson asked. “Tell me, have you seen a big dog wandering around your place? Not just any dog, but a huge stray. Mixed breed. A true monster of a mutt.”

The big dog. Goliath. Since coming to Angel Lake, since taking on The Doghouse, she’d seen it—him—half a dozen times, maybe more. She remembered how she’d found Duncan curled up on the floor by her door, like a guard dog. How he kept saying he had something to share, but… not yet. Always not yet.

“I was going to tell you,” he said in a low voice. “The time was never right.”

Nelson leaned in. “Be careful, Armi. The dog I saw last night had huge paws with long claws, and teeth that could do a lot of damage to a defenseless woman. Or man.” With that he stood. “Take your pet and get out of town. Don’t involve us in your shitstorm. Molly deserves better.”

She didn’t watch Nelson leave. Instead she stared at Duncan, who didn’t bother to deny the accusations. A shifter. A big dog. Claws and teeth…

He’d been in the bathroom when Carlton had been attacked. Hadn’t he? Or had he exited by the back door, mauled the innocent man, then come back in and pretended…

To care. To help. To be on her side…

“Armi, honey,” Duncan said in a lowered voice. “It’s not…”

“Get out,” she whispered. Then she shook her head. “No, I’m leaving, and I’m going alone. I’m going to collect my things from the B&B and find my own way home.”

“You can’t.”

“I can and I will.” She had to ask. She had to know. Armi leaned across the table. “Did you kill Carlton? Was that your… your sick way of working your way into my life?”

“No!”

He seemed horrified, honest, and even hurt by her accusation. Could she trust him? Who the hell was she kidding? She couldn’t trust anyone.

She stood too fast. Duncan mirrored her move. Armi heard the rush of blood in her ears. Her heart pounded. Her vision narrowed and went gray around the edges again. Good God, she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of watching her faint at his feet.

Warriors did not faint over lying men.

Oh, hell. Was anything he’d told her true? Was she a warrior or just a desperate and gullible middle-aged woman searching for purpose? It wasn’t as though their afternoon had been all that successful.

Something was going on. The book. The birds. Those darts she’d caught in midair. Her Aunt Helen’s involvement.

Not that Helen Benedict was at her sharpest these days.

Duncan gripped her arm and tried to urge her toward the door and out. “We need to talk.”

Armi shook him off. “Bullshit we do,” she responded. People around them were watching and listening. She didn’t care.

“Someone is trying to separate us,” he argued. “They want you alone and vulnerable.”

The food arrived. “You grab something to eat,” she said. “Try the chicken and dumplings. I’ve lost my appetite. I’m going back to the B&B to get my things. I’ll be gone by the time you finish eating. Stay away from The Doghouse. Stay away from my motel and my friends. Most of all, stay away from me.”

“Armi, be reasonable.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Be reasonable? “Kiss my ass.”

He grabbed her arm again and held on tight. He pulled her close and whispered. “I didn’t kill your friend, and I would never, ever hurt you.”