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He thumbed toward the hall. “There’s a letter for you on the hall table. On behalf of the Otherworld Society, we appreciate your discretion in resolving this here situation. The CPA will foot the bill for any and all repairs and replacements; no need to go through your insurance, except for medical, and we will see you reimbursed for that. However, their compassion toward human homeowners is finite. If you invite trouble—”
“I solemnly swear to keep the monsters outside,” I promised, hand to heart. “Present company excluded. So, how soon can you get me home?”
He walked the room, pausing briefly at the ruined window frame. “Depends on the true extent of the damage and the contractor’s schedule, but a week or two.”Coming to the edge of the bed, he offered his hand.
I cupped my face instead.
He massaged his temples. “I see where your cats get their personality.”
I perked up. “Are they here? Can I see them?”
“Those demons I left with the soon-to-be Mrs. Wyatt Miller in exchange for confirming your survival.” He flexed the hand Igor had bitten. “Your pair of unruly hell beasts tormented my staff all morning, hiding under desks and swiping ankles.”
“They’re scared.”
“I tried to be nice, let the noxious clouds of fluff scamper about my place while I caught some shut-eye. I'm out two plates, there’s poop in my coat closet, and little Ogre yowled in my ear the minute I fell asleep.”
“You mean Igor.”
“I am quite certain you’ve adopted an ogre, Miss Davins.” He offered his hand again. “So, will you skedaddle, or do I have to carry you?"
“Undecided,” I mused, kicking out my feet.
He stepped out of range. “What’s there to decide?”
“If I’d enjoy the scuffle.” I'd seen more of the sheriff than I'd ever wanted to, okay, that was a lie, but I'd seen what I'd seen, so I knew he had the muscle to make a game fun.
The slightest smile pulled the corner of his mouth. “You’re hurt.”
“Haven't felt more than a twinge here and there.”
He wiggled his fingers. “Yes or no, Miss Davins?”
Reluctantly, I loosened my grip on the post. The sheriff let me gather my belongings, even helped locate my phone and car keys.
A tightness lingered about his shoulders as he leaned beside the dresser while I jammed sweaters into my largest suitcase. I’d already filled a smaller overnight with cat supplies. “If I could surrender Stephen’s pelt, I would.”
“I believe you,” I said, straining to zip the damn thing shut. “Her brother was murdered. It’s probably been placed in evidence or something.”
“It’ll be released to the family once the investigation's complete. Given the crime, Mrs. Finn is aware standard procedure does not apply.”
“You returned Lisa’s keys quick.”
“We both know her keys bear no relevance on this case,” he said, acting the gentleman and taking my over-stuffed luggage in hand. “The less human involvement, the better. On that note, I recommend a nice vacation for a couple months, maybe a stay with some distant relatives.”
“I don't have relatives,” I said quietly. “None in America, anyway.”
“Even better.”
The plastic sheeting flapped on a breeze. In the rippled sunlight, the bedroom carried an oceanic pleasantry. I walked to my nightstand and flipped my sketchbook shut on the beckoning hand. “How screwed am I, sheriff?”
His gaze dropped to my thigh. “Harder to run hobbled.”
“Cal would argue that’s why I need a pack. Safety in numbers, protection for the weak, yada, yada.” I did my best not to limp as I joined him in the doorway. “What would hobbling behind a lone wolf get me?”
“Lone wolves let you hobble in front,” he said, gesturing for me to hit the stairs.
I moved past him, aware this cordial human specimen had hidden fangs, and winced. My leg hurt worse from the pressure of descent. “Caelan?”
