Neva thrust through the hair salon's door and slammed it shut behind her. The heat hit her immediately, making her gasp, and she quickly shed some layers. 'Don't tell me,' Betise said dryly as she came from the rear section of the salon. 'You felt an urgent need to finally cut your hair.'
Neva grinned as she took off her ski mask and shook loose her hair. 'You and I both know that's not going to happen, so quit asking.'
'You sure? You'd look fantastic with a shorter cut styled to suit your features. And it would bring out your eyes more.'
'My eyes are just fine the way they are.' She shook the snow from the mask and her coats, then draped them over the nearest chair.
Betise crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the counter. ' So what can I do for you, then?' Though the friendliness had not fled from her voice, there was a touch of wariness in her green eyes. And guilt in an emotive trickle leaking past her shields. Probably because she'd been caught in a lie, Neva thought grimly. 'Why did you tell Duncan my father was asking you about the dance?'
Betise sighed. 'I'm sorry, but Duncan was wasting time asking me all sorts of questions.'
Hostility rose in a wave, and Neva briefly looked away. She had no right to feel proprietary when it came to Duncan, and if anyone should be angry at sharing, it was Betise.
'But why say something like that?' she said, once she was sure her voice was under control.
'Because he's been away for so long and is the only one in town likely to believe such a silly statement.'
That was certainly true. The animosity between her parents and Betise was no secret. Though why her father was so against Betise and not the other regular dancers who came into their diner was something
Neva had never been able to under stand--or get an answer to.
But maybe it was time she tried again. She should question her mom, at any rate. They'd know she was here--the hospital staff would surely have mentioned it--and she'd much rather confront them than have them seeking her out. Given the way her luck had been running of late, they'd probably walk in and find her and Duncan in the middle of a heated dance. That was something she didn't need right now--not if she wanted to start mending bridges.
'I gather he's been harassing you about your parents,' Betise continued, sympathy in her voice. 'All but accused my parents of being behind these murder s.' Neva sat in one of the chairs and stretched her legs towards the heater vent to warm her feet. 'My mother may not have the past of a saint, but she's not behind these killings.'
'Anyone with half a brain would know that,' Betise agreed and pushed away from the counter. 'Would you like a soda? Or a coffee?'
Neva hesitated. 'Just a half cup, to warm my insides before I venture out again. I have to head up to the hospital to see Savannah.'
'She's awake?' Betise moved behind the small screens. 'Yes. And itching to get back to the investigation.'
'Good for her.' There was the sound of liquid being poured, then Betise asked, 'She remember what happened?'
'Right now I don't think she even wants to think about the attack. She just wants to get better and find the killer.' Neva hesitated. 'Do you mind if I ask a personal question?' Betise came back out carrying two white mugs. Though her expression was still friendly, the wariness evident in the air became strong enough to almost taste. 'Sure.' Neva accepted the full mug with a nod of thanks. 'If you and Duncan are soul mates, why are you still apart?' Betise didn't answer for several seconds, then grimaced and looked away. 'Because I was the only one convinced that we were.'
Neva blinked. Of all the answers she'd expected, that wasn't one of them. How could you not know your own soul mate? It was a state that transcended the heart, transcended the mind, became a linking of spirit. It was something you just knew and couldn't escape. Or so her father had always claimed. Never having met her soul mate, Neva couldn't say for certainty what it was like. 'He didn't believe you were?'
She shook her head. 'Duncan's not one to be pinned down, even by a soul mate. So he claimed he felt nothing.'
'You knew he'd lie?'
Betise's smile was touched with sadness. 'Yes. When a bonding is that deep, you can't help knowing everything the other is feeling. It's instinct.'
Neva frowned. Something didn't gel. While she'd sensed no lie in Betise's statement, she hadn't sensed a lie in Duncan's, either, when he'd claimed Betise and he had shared only the one dance and nothing else.
So which of them was stretching the truth? And why?
She sipped the coffee and shuddered at its strong, almost bitter taste. It had obviously been sitting in the pot for a while. 'Is that why he left?'
Betise hesitated. 'Partly, I guess.'
'There was another reason?'
'He had a reputation with the ladies. It got him into trouble more than once.'
If his behavior then was far wilder than it was now, Neva could understand why. He wasn't exactly the caring, sharing type. 'So why haven't you tried to pursue him now that he's back?'
Betise snorted softly. 'You heard him deny our relationship. What point is there?'
Plenty, if they were soul mates. For one, it meant Betise could never settle down with another. But maybe that didn't worry her--not as long as she had the moon dance. She sipped her coffee and decided she'd better get to the point. 'I'm going to report your attack to my sister.'
'Don't. We're not really sure it's linked, and I don't want the rangers fussing over me.'
Neva raised her eyebrows. 'But if it is linked, you might hold some clue that could catch this fiend.'
'It's doubtful. I didn't really see much, and to be honest, the rangers annoy me more than your father.'
Neva smiled. 'Then tell me, and I'll pass it on to my sister. That way, if there is nothing interesting, you don't have the hassle of talking to the rangers.'
Betise hesitated, then nodded. 'Ask away.'
'What did he smell like?'
'Why would that matter? It's not admissible in a court of law.'
'Well, no, but it could lead the r angers to our killer.'
'I was under the impression they didn't find any scents at the murder scene.'
'According to the papers, no. But they did find one at the hospital.'
Betise raised an eyebrow. 'Hospital?'
Neva couldn't see any point in holding back the information, especially since the head nurse was dating the current editor of the Gazette. It was a pretty sure bet it would be the lead story tomorrow morning.
'We think the killer may have tried to get to Savannah.'
'So you were there.'
'Yeah. I sensed Savannah was waking and came down.'
A smile touched the older wolf's pale lips. 'I wondered why Duncan had let you out of his bed.
Normally, he'd keep his mates occupied day and night.'
Heat touched Neva's cheeks. 'Yeah, well, he actually didn't know I slipped away.'
Betise considered her for a moment, then said, 'My attacker smelled like old sweats.'
Not a smell anyone was likely to forget in a hurry, and not the scent she'd chased in the hospital. It was a strong smell that would not dissipate easily, and while the wind had been strong last night, it had been almost nonexistent in at least two of the other attacks. Surely the rangers would have picked up such an unusual aroma. 'What did he look like?'
Betise shrugged. 'As I said, big. Silver. I was too busy def ending myself to take much notice.'
'No identifying marks? Scars?'
'None that I saw.'
'Eye color?'
'Yellow.'
Which was the standard eye color of a true wolf, not any of the packs that lived in Ripple Creek. Were they
