She didn’t mind waiting as the older customers dug around for exact change. The morning shift was slower paced and friendlier; the customers often stopping to chat for a few minutes. Many of them were seniors and more than a bit lonely; their time at the grocery store was a social outing rather than just a necessity.
Cassie understood about loneliness. Her family—Uncle, Franklin and Cook—were all gone now. She just had Kellen. Some, like Mrs. Mitchell, were almost family; the grandmother or great-aunt she’d never had, but it wasn’t a real relationship, more just wishful thinking.
“Do you need help carrying those bags to the car, Mrs. Mitchell?”
The older woman reached across and patted her arm. “No, but thank you for asking. The doctor said it was good for my old bones to carry a few heavy items; resistance I think he called it.”
“All right then, just don’t do too much at once.” Cassie turned her attention to the next person waiting to check out while Mrs. Mitchell moved to the end of the counter and dug through her purse, most likely searching for her car keys. The poor dear was always misplacing them.
As she dealt with her new customer—a young mother with a toddler in her arms—Cassie experienced a prickling feeling, as if someone were watching her. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Several times this past week, she’d found herself staring around the grocery store looking for the source, only to find nothing.
At the time, she’d attached no importance to the phenomenon. But now that Mr. Bartlett had mentioned someone asking about her... Well, maybe it was more significant than she thought. Could the beast inside her be aware of danger on some level? Inwardly she rolled her eyes, thinking the creature might have one redeeming quality after all; though sensing someone was watching and knowing exactly who it was and why, were two completely different things.
Shrugging her shoulders, she tried to rid herself of the uneasy feeling, but it didn’t work. Flicking a glance up from the bar code scanner, she locked eyes with the man—the one she’d dubbed a tourist—and found he was studying her, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
Quickly, she looked away. Her mouth suddenly seemed dry and the air around her was much warmer than just a few minutes ago. Inside her, the beast stirred with excitement. Another quick peek revealed the man was frowning now.
Was he upset the line was moving so slowly? Cassie tightened her lips. Well, there were only two checkouts open, so he’d just have to wait his turn! She continued to scan the groceries while trying unsuccessfully to ignore his presence. He had an arrogant look about him, as if he expected everyone to notice him. Too bad, she wasn’t going to try to speed things up just to keep him happy!
Seconds ticked by. An uncomfortable feeling began to grow in her stomach. Her heart rate sped up and her senses seemed to be heightened; the brightness of the overhead lights and the beeping of the scanner seemed to hammer inside her head. Scents she wasn’t normally aware of assaulted her nose and she mentally identified them while trying to concentrate on her job; baby powder, raw meat, cleaning products, sweat... Something new was in the mix though. She sniffed and wondered what it might be. An animal of some sort...? Weighing a bag of grapes, she looked at the man through her lashes.
Damn! He was still staring at her. She found her gaze locked with his and couldn't look away. His eyes were hazel, his stare intent as if he were trying to see inside her. A shiver swept over her, followed by a heated feeling. Darting out the tip of her tongue, she wet her lips and he followed the movement with his eyes before looking back up at her. One corner of his mouth curled up and Cassie's discomfort increased. A desperate need to escape was coming over her; the wolf inside her was prancing; excited by the man's presence yet at the same time wanting to run so he would give chase.
Cassie swallowed hard and wrenched her attention back to the task at hand. Her voice tremored as she announced the total.
"That will be forty-five, eighty-seven.”
The woman handed over sixty dollars and Cassie took it. Her hand shook as she made change, dropping the coins and cursing softly under her breath. A chuckle came from the direction of the tourist and Cassie wondered sourly what he found so funny.
Working on autopilot, she commented to the mother about the baby, all the while thinking that the man was next in line. She didn’t want to deal with him; in fact she was almost light-headed at the very idea. Little frissons of awareness darted up and down her spine at the thought of him being just inches away, hearing his voice, breathing in his scent, their fingers possibly touching as he handed her some bills...
“Hey, Sandy! Break time.” A cheerful voice sounded behind her and she almost slumped in relief. Debra, her replacement cashier was there. Thank heaven, it was break time! With more haste than dignity, Cassie traded places with the other girl and moved to leave.
“Sandy, dear?”
Oh God, Mrs. Mitchell was still here! All Cassie wanted to do was get away before that man came any closer. Forcing herself to pause, she looked at the older woman. “Yes, Mrs. Mitchell?”
“I meant to ask you how your little anniversary dinner went. Was Kellen pleased?”
“Er...” Cassie looked over her shoulder. The man was still watching her, a scowl on his face. What was his problem? Obviously he was upset about something, but what? She’d never met him before, so perhaps she was being paranoid, though something was telling her she wasn’t.... Dragging her attention back to the older woman, she stumbled over her response. “I’ll...uh...I’ll tell you about it next time you’re at the store. I...er...need to use the washroom.”
“Oh, then don’t let me keep you. I know what that’s like.” Mrs. Mitchell waved her off, and Cassie walked away as quickly as she could, ducking down the cereal aisle. As soon as she was free of the man’s gaze, she started to feel better.
“Now that was just...weird,” Cassie muttered to herself. Her heart rate was calming, the sights and sounds around her were fading to a normal level of awareness. Biting her lip, she cautiously peeked around the corner of an instant oatmeal display. The man was still there, only he’d moved closer to the door and was now chatting to Mrs. Mitchell!
Cassie clenched her hands, wishing she knew how to read lips. Even by straining her ultra acute hearing, she couldn’t make out the words over the background noises. What were they talking about? Mrs. Mitchell laughed and the man smiled at her, then looked in Cassie’s direction. She ducked back. Had he noticed her spying? Not willing to take the chance he’d seek her out, she scurried to the back of the store and ducked into the employees’ rest area.
Once there, she sat at the table and held her head in her hands, grateful no one else was about. Good heavens didn’t she have enough to worry about right now without this? Who was that man and why did he make her so uncomfortable? Was he the same person Mr. Bartlett had been referring to? And if he was, what was the reason behind his interest? And why was he talking to Mrs. Mitchell?
While it could be the man just wanted to ask her out on a date, she doubted it. There was a certain aura that had come off him. Earlier, she’d dubbed it arrogance, but on reflection perhaps it was danger. Whatever the case, he made her nervous and stirred the beast inside her.
Could he be another werewolf? Cassie gnawed on her lip nervously then shook her head. It had been three years since the incident and there was no indication the wolves knew where she was, or that they were even looking for her. She was simply being paranoid where they were concerned. The only werewolf around was the hated creature inside her. Still... A shiver ran through her, despite the relative warmth of the room.
Rubbing her hands over her arms, she considered the other possibility; that the mystery man had something to do with Kellen’s gambling. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Kellen about it yet; the first night when he’d made her dinner, it just hadn’t seemed appropriate and since then they kept missing each other. A nasty voice inside her head insisted Kellen was purposely avoiding her.
She sighed
heavily. Quite likely the voice was right. All the signs pointed to the fact that Kellen was in debt again, likely for a significant amount this time, and the people he owed were getting impatient. Maybe they thought she’d bail him out, or by harassing her it would force Kellen to pay up. An inelegant snort escaped her. Kellen had little in savings; it would be a long wait before he made any sort of dent in the total, whatever it might be.
The man in the check-out line certainly matched her image of a thug sent to collect a debt. Tall and muscular, though too intelligent looking for a run of the mill goon. And too good looking too, she added as an afterthought. His nose wasn't broken, there were no visible scars, and he had all his teeth—she'd seen them when he smiled at Mrs. Mitchell. Cassie frowned. Well, maybe he didn't look like a thug after all. But he did have an air of danger about him. Not in a violent way though; it was actually sort of...sexy. Like he could be dangerous if he lost control...
Just thinking about the man caused the wolf inside to stir again. Reluctantly, she acknowledged that the man affected her too. His hazel eyes had been fringed by long lashes and his dark blond hair was thick with just a slight wave. Her palms tingled as she wondered if it would feel as soft as looked. She bit back a smile as she recalled that a slight dimple had appeared on his cheek when he'd been laughing with Mrs. Mitchell. A thug with a dimple? She shook her head, chastising herself. Mooning over a man with probable criminal connections was not a good idea.
Taking a deep breath, she brought her mind back to the business at hand. She had two possibilities—werewolves or thugs—and neither one was overly palatable, though she felt the thugs might be less of a threat. At least she could go to the authorities about them.
Checking her watch, she decided to ask Mr. Bartlett to let her leave early. If she went home now, she’d be able to talk to Kellen before he left for...well...wherever it was he went during the day. She’d put off discovering what sort of a mess he was in long enough; now it was time to get to the bottom of things.
She grabbed her purse from the small locker assigned to her. The bus would be leaving soon, so if she hurried...
*****
Bryan had rolled his eyes when the young woman ducked back behind a cereal display. How she’d thought that could possibly hide her presence, he had no idea. Her scent gave her away just as easily as her physical presence. She was definitely a werewolf—that had been easy to determine—but there was a subtle essence that was uniquely her... He briefly closed his eyes and inhaled; exotic and spicy, with floral undertones.
That particular scent was one he couldn’t forget. It had plagued him for the past three years, ever since he’d caught the faintest whiff of it in the motel room in Kansas. The girl was definitely Cassandra Greyson.
She’d peered at him for a moment before moving deeper into the store, her scent fading as it blended with those of the various foods for sale. He’d snorted, wondering if she thought she was hiding her trail. If she did, she was sadly mistaken. An experienced hunter such as himself wouldn’t be easily led astray by the tempting aromas of meats and baked goods.
Bryan shifted his gaze to the magazine racks and the large man lurking there. Now that was an inexperienced hunter. The man had been staring at Cassandra Greyson for the last half hour while trying to look inconspicuous by supposedly reading a magazine. The problem was the fellow hadn't turned a page the whole time, nor had he taken his eyes off the young woman. Who was he and why was he watching her?
The man had made no move to follow Cassandra when she left her work station. If he had, Bryan would have followed. Instead, the fellow had made a brief phone call and then picked up his magazine again, apparently planning on waiting until she reappeared.
Deciding the man wasn't planning on making any moves towards Cassandra in the near future, Bryan nodded as the older woman beside him continued to chatter away. He’d approached the senior citizen after paying for the groceries he didn't need, but that were part of his cover. As he'd bagged the items, he’s struck up a conversation with Cassandra’s elderly customer offering to carry her parcels to her car. While she declined, it proved to be the perfect way to make her acquaintance, just as he’d suspected.
“You’re just like Sandy—that’s the girl who was working the checkout a minute ago. She wanted someone to help me as well, but I said no to her too. Such a sweetheart, she lives just a few blocks from me in the cutest little house. Her boyfriend, Kellen, shares it...”
He'd been checking on the magazine-man again when her statement caught his full attention The news that Cassandra—or Sandy as the woman called her—was involved with someone didn’t sit well with him or his inner wolf. It was unreasonable to think the girl would have remained unattached all these years, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Such a living arrangement was...inconvenient to his present purpose.
Bryan tried to put a logical spin on his feelings; he had a right to be annoyed. If she was living with someone, it would make it all the more difficult to bring her into the pack. She’d be reluctant to leave the man behind and bringing a new wolf plus her human companion into Canada... He shuddered to think of the complications.
They were at the store’s exit now and Bryan let the older woman leave first. She was still talking about this Kellen person...
“—works here too, though it’s a night shift, so I’ve only seen him a few times. He’s a good looking fellow, but...” She shook her head, then leaned closer whispering in a conspiratorial manner. “I’d never say it to Sandy—I don’t believe in poking my nose into other people’s business—but sometimes I wonder about her relationship with him. I’m sure he’s a fine young man, but I’m thinking he’s not the one for her, They don’t see much of each other, what with working opposite shifts, and she has this look about her—not exactly unhappy—but as if she’s restless inside, like something important is missing in her life.”
Bryan made suitable noises and continued to walk beside the woman as she made her way across the parking lot. So Cassandra—Sandy—seemed restless. He felt the corners of his mouth curve upward at the news. If her wolf was restless, it probably was feeling the strain of not being part of a pack. Well, he was here to offer a solution.
Mrs. Mitchell bid him farewell and climbed into her vehicle. He continued on his way as if searching for his own car, but once the woman drove out of sight, he circled back. The man by the magazines was still in the grocery store, and Bryan had no plans of leaving Cassandra unguarded until he knew the man's intentions.
His hand was just reaching for the door when the wind shifted and her scent drifted by. What...? Bryan turned in a circle, scanning his surroundings. Cars, shoppers, grocery carts.... There! He saw a slim dark haired woman getting on a bus! Instinct told him it was definitely Cassandra Greyson.
As the bus pulled away, he started to run across the parking lot, intent on following her, but then drew himself to a stop. No. He’d have to shift into wolf form in order to keep up and somehow he suspected the citizens of Las Vegas wouldn’t be used to seeing a wolf running down the street, chasing a bus.
Bryan shifted the bag of useless groceries in his arms and glared in the direction of the departing vehicle cursing himself for making such a rookie mistake. Damn but he never should have taken his eyes off the girl! Now he’d have to start searching for her all over again. He growled wishing he had her last name at least. Then he could have just used the phone book to find out where she lived, but all he knew at this point was that she was known as Sandy.
All right, he’d just have to do things the hard way. First he’d find a map that outlined the city bus routes and then he’d follow it along until he caught her scent again. She had to get off the damned bus at some point and then he’d have her.
As he headed back towards the small strip mall that contained the grocery store, he saw the large man from the magazine rack was leaning against a white van, once again making a phone call. Bryan wished he was close enough to hear what was being said. In
stead, he moved until he could at least see the license plate and committed it to memory. He'd have Daniel trace it for him once he got back to the motel, but first he had to track down Cassandra.
Compressing his lips, he grumbled discontentedly thinking of how long it might take to pick up her scent again. Waves of heat rose from the sidewalk and he felt sweat trickling down the indent of his spine. Damn, they would have to be having an unseasonal heat wave just when he arrived in the city. He’d have heat stroke before he found her. The cool forests of Northern Canada had never been so appealing.
Chapter 7
Aldrich looked over the information that Nate Graham had sent him. The Nevada situation was salvageable, but only if they were able to get their edge back. Things had been allowed to slide under the less than competent leadership of Eddie Perini.
Flicking through the pages, Aldrich shook his head in disbelief. He’d made a serious error in judgement when he’d permitted the man to play Shylock. Perini wasn’t ruthless enough; his clients didn’t respect him. The point returns weren’t nearly as high as they should be. Eddie needed to apply pressure, instil some fear. Fear kept people in line, not idle threats.
He threw the report down in disgust. There was no excuse for this except poor management on Eddie’s part. Narrowing his eyes, Aldrich considered the possibilities.
At first, he wondered if he should just fold the company and take his losses, but... No. That smacked too much of giving in; it gave people the wrong impression. Even if he dispatched Eddie, the failure of the business would still be a fact. Should word ever get out, it could negatively impact on his effectiveness in other areas of business. Failure clung to one’s name and reputation like gum to a shoe.
No, he had to pull Dollar Niche out of the fire first. Once it was suitably profitable again, then he could rid himself of it. In the grand scheme of things the company was a minor concern, a leftover from the days when his goals hadn’t been quite so lofty. But he needed to exit the scene with his head held high.