Jenna shrugged. “I suppose Dexter Guildman would help the winner decide what works for them and what doesn’t. Or maybe he’ll select a few outfits for them to show them how they could dress.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably it.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“What?” Titus said. “You don’t like a nicely dressed man? You know what that song says. Every girl’s crazy for a sharp-dressed man.”
She looked at him, clearly unimpressed with his ZZ Top reference. What did valkyries listen to? Swedish death metal?
“I’m all for a nicely dressed man,” she said, “but I care more about what a guy’s like on the inside. Who he is, not how he’s dressed. Clothes are optional.”
He choked a little. “Optional?”
She went slightly pink in the cheeks. “That’s not what I meant. I meant character matters. Clothes don’t.”
He decided to let her off easy. “Well, I agree with that.”
But he also thought her head would be turned like every other woman’s at the sight of a man in a great suit. Wasn’t that what women liked? He wasn’t really sure anymore. Since his fiancée, Zoe, had broken things off a few years ago, he’d pretty much given up on having a relationship, deciding to throw himself into work instead.
Work was dependable. And he wasn’t interested in getting his heart broken again, no matter how well things had turned out for Hank and Bridget and their significant others. Titus recognized that he’d had his chance at love, and it had gone belly up.
Jenna handed over the paper she was holding. “You can put that in your race file, or wherever you’re keeping things.”
“Will do.” As he accepted the paper, her radio crackled.
Birdie’s voice came over. “There’s been a report of a suspicious person loitering at 2310 Batwing. House is for sale and currently unoccupied. Could just be a lookie-loo.”
Jenna grabbed her handset and answered. “I’m on my way.”
Titus put the sponsor list off to one side to be filed later. “That’s only two blocks away.”
Birdie’s voice came on again. “Hang on. There’s also a report of the smell of gas in the same area. I need to call the fire station.”
Jenna clicked the handset again. “No need to call. I’m at the fire station right now.” She looked at Titus.
He nodded, answering her unspoken question.
Jenna squeezed the handset. “Chief Merrow will accompany me to check for a gas leak. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
“Roger,” Birdie said. “Over and out.”
Jenna stood, pushing her chair back.
“I’ll kit up and be right behind you.”
“See you there.” She left his office, going toward the front of the building.
He went right and headed for the back, where his truck was parked. Along the way, he stopped, put on his protective gear, and grabbed his gas meter.
He arrived at the house just as Jenna was walking toward the front door. He joined her, meter in hand. “What’s the plan?”
She looked surprised he’d asked, but this was her call since she was the law. “I’m going to check the doors, see if any of them are unlocked or have been forced open. You want to keep an eye on the front while I circle around?”
“Sure.” He inhaled, his wolf senses working overtime. “I do smell traces of what might be gas. It’s very faint, though, so if there’s a leak, it’s not a major one.” He pulled the meter out and took a look. “Not enough to register.”
“Well,” she said, “I’d trust a werewolf’s sense of smell over a piece of equipment. I’ll be quick, then we’ll go in.”
He almost rocked back on his heels. That was the closest she’d ever come to complimenting him. “Okay.”
With her weapon drawn but at her side, she went up the steps of the front porch and checked the door. It was locked, as was the real estate agent’s lockbox secured around the knob. From there, she headed around the side of the house.
A few moments later, she called out, “This is the Nocturne Falls Sheriff’s Department. Make yourself known.” When there was no answer, she repeated herself.
Titus kept his eyes on the front door. Minutes ticked by. Was she okay? No sounds came from the house, and his hearing was excellent. No sounds was a good thing, wasn’t it?
A few more minutes went by. The front door opened, and Jenna came out, weapon holstered. “House is clear, but the smell of gas is stronger in here. Strong enough I can smell it. You want to bring your meter in and see if you can find out where it’s coming from?”
“Yep.” He went up the steps. The stink of rotten eggs hit him hard as he walked into the house. His nose wrinkled. “Methanethiol.”
“What’s that?”
“The stuff they add to natural gas to make it smell bad. Also known as mercaptan.”
“Which they add because natural gas has no smell, right?”
“Right.” He checked the meter, which showed that gas was still only faintly present. “Weird.”
“What is?”
“For as much methanethiol as I smell, the meter isn’t reading the equivalent amount of gas present.”
Jenna’s brow furrowed. “Why would that be?”
“Not sure yet. You’ve searched the whole house?”
“Yes.”
“Is the smell any stronger anywhere else?”
“Not that I noticed.”
He looked around. “Is there a basement?”
“Off the kitchen. You want to start your sweep there?”
“Yes, although natural gas is lighter than air, which means it should rise, making the smell stronger up here, but there are usually plenty of pipes to check in a basement.”
She tipped her head toward the back of the house as she holstered her weapon. “Let’s go have a look.”
He held his hand out. “After you.”
Jenna opened the door to the basement, turned on the light, and headed down with Titus right behind her.
She wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, but there was
