Cry Wolf (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 4) Read online

  CRY WOLF

  SILVER HOLLOW COZY MYSTERY SERIES BOOK 4

  LEIGHANN DOBBS

  TRACI DOUGLASS

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Also by Leighann Dobbs

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  N o Trespassing! Violators Will Be Staked!

  Silver Hollow Sheriff’s Department Deputy DeeDee Clawson snorted at the makeshift sign as she walked toward the gates of the old Crenshaw property. It was bad enough she had to come out to this place to begin with. Ever since that fancy movie producer from Hollywood, Caine Hunter, had rented both the old Gothic-style mansion and the surrounding lands a few months back, she’d had one pain-in-the-butt complaint from townsfolk after another about the crowds and the noise and the weird people lurking about the set.

  Not to mention all these pesky protestors.

  Worse, though, was Caine Hunter himself. Always strutting around the small, picturesque downtown of Silver Hollow as if he owned the village—all slick West Coast glamour and movie-star handsomeness wrapped in a tight, muscular package of intrigue.

  It was enough to give the average female werewolf fits.

  Good thing DeeDee was far from average.

  She patted the Taser clipped neatly to her utility belt and glanced at her partner for the day, Special Detective Dex Nolan. He was on loan to their department from the Federal Bureau of Paranormal Investigations—or FBPI. Over the past month or so, Dex had settled right in to life here in their beloved Silver Hollow.

  The town was tiny and nestled in a gorgeous area of New Hampshire near the shores of a big lake in the White Mountains. Perfect for sightseeing or golfing in the summers—or all kinds of paranormal activities year round. In fact, Silver Hollow had one of the largest paranormal populations in the region. Witches, shifters, vampires—they had them all. Some folks said it was the remoteness of the town that made it so attractive to all the paranormals. After all, the closest big city was nearly a hundred miles away. Others said it was because of a magical current of power that came from all the surrounding nature. DeeDee, however, suspected the truth was simpler.

  Paranormals like her loved Silver Hollow because it was a nice, quiet place to live.

  Or at least it had been until Caine Hunter and his crew showed up.

  A protestor wearing a knitted hat sporting two large red devil horns and carrying a homemade sign proclaiming DEMONS GO HOME bumped into DeeDee. She gave the guy a dark stare. The protestor took one look at her expression and her Taser and scurried off fast.

  Grrrr.

  She shook her head and weaved through the crowds toward the perimeter of the Crenshaw property. They’d had a heck of a time even finding a place to park the squad car, having to nose through all the chaos without mowing down any unsuspecting rubberneckers or security guards.

  “You about done with that phone call?” DeeDee asked Dex over her shoulder, narrowly avoiding another run-in with the horns guy.

  Dex held up a finger and smiled. “Yeah, I know, Is. I love you too. Can’t wait to see you later when I get home.”

  DeeDee managed to hold back a major eye roll—she was in uniform, after all—but just barely. One of the local witches, Issy Quinn, who owned a pet store called Enchanted Pets and was a good friend to DeeDee, had fallen madly, deeply, stupidly in love with Dex.

  Not that DeeDee wasn’t happy for them. They were both great people and deserved every bit of their happiness. If she were honest, though, she was a tad jealous. Issy and Dex were so perfect for each other, so attuned and affectionate, that their love seemed almost predestined.

  She shook her head as Dex made kissing noises into his phone.

  Ugh. Love.

  Unfortunately, the only thing predestined in DeeDee right now was her arranged marriage to the new up-and-coming alpha of the neighboring MacPherson pack. It was a political move that had been arranged by her father when she was just a kid. With all the contracts and treaties signed and both packs depending on the merger to reinforce the truce between their two clans and increase their territories, there was no way DeeDee could get out of it now. The best she could hope for at this point was that this union wouldn’t turn out to be the same awful disaster her own parents’ contracted marriage had been.

  It seemed that in werewolf pack politics, love was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

  Besides, if she didn’t marry the son of the current MacPherson alpha, her own Clawson Pack Alpha father might make her younger sister do it, and that was unacceptable. DeeDee had learned her lesson long ago. She never shirked her duties or responsibilities.

  Not after what had happened to poor Paige…

  Shaking off the painful memories, she stopped at a set of huge rusted iron gates barring entry to the Gothic estate. Two beefy guards stood beneath a large sign with the movie’s title.

  The Vampire’s Revenge.

  More like the critics’ revenge, once they got their hands on what would surely be the biggest flop of the season. DeeDee chuckled as she stepped up to one of the guards and flashed her badge. “Deputy Clawson, Silver Hollow Sheriff’s Department. This is my partner, Dex Nolan. We received a report of an incident involving injury on the set. We’re here to investigate.”

  The guards exchanged a look then slowly creaked open the gates to let her and Dex inside. A group of protestors rushed forward to try and gain entry, but the guards pushed them aside. These women had on the same horned knitted hat as the other guy, but instead of carrying signs, they shouted all sorts of nasty insults and taunts toward the movie’s cast and crew.

  “Vamps are tramps!”

  “Go back to hell where you came from!”

  “Any world but Otherworld!”

  Most people considered them a bunch of harmless extremist kooks, but DeeDee had checked out their website the day before at the office, during her lunch hour. The Sunrise Group’s hate-filled rhetoric soon made her lose her appetite. They proclaimed themselves the harbingers of a brighter tomorrow but were truthfully the opposite of enlightenment. They detested all vampires and werewolves and any paranormal creature—basically anyone who wasn’t exactly like them. From what she’d read, they were protesting Caine Hunter’s movie because they didn’t want the world of paranormals glorified.

  Once she and Dex moved far enough away from the crowds, DeeDee sniffed the air, using her super-sensitive wolf senses. If those humans on the other side of the gate only knew how close they were to actual blood drinkers and shifters, a panicked riot would ensue.

  Her sturdy winter boots crunched on the layer of snow blanketing the ground, and her new thick brown work coat kept her warm enough, despite the fact each breath DeeDee exhaled frosted on the air in front of her. Each time she inhaled, the slight chemical odor of the polyester fake fur still freaked her out a bit.

  Honestly, she’d tried t
o get her boss, Owen Gleason, sheriff of Silver Hollow, to order the thing without the fake fur lining, but couldn’t make too much of a fuss considering Owen knew zilch about the horde of paranormals living under his jurisdiction. In fact, Owen didn’t even know creatures like her existed, thanks to DeeDee’s effort to keep the truth hidden.

  Normally, she kept the hood down, away from her face, for that reason. But today, her ears stung from the chill and the minus-zero wind chills, so she’d pulled the stupid thing up.

  She and Dex headed around to the back of the property where a small group had huddled near the edge of a swampy woodland area. Lying near the center of the circle was a body. A very dead body, DeeDee surmised, given the two-foot-long stake protruding from the center of the corpse’s chest.

  “This looks like way more than an injury, Deputy,” Dex said, wry amusement lacing his tone.

  DeeDee gave him a thanks-for-stating-the-obvious stare then crouched beside the victim.

  Sniffing again, she detected a faint whiff of garlic along with…

  Uh-oh.

  Nose scrunched, she straightened and looked around. Mistletoe.

  With it being just a week until Christmas, she wasn’t surprised to smell it, but that didn’t stop her from hating it either.

  Mistletoe held bad memories for her, and not just because she was allergic to the infernal stuff. First, there was all the kissing expected underneath it. Not that DeeDee had anything against kissing. It was just that right now, she had no one special to kiss. Sure, she’d dated a lot more since Gray Quinn, another local witch and Issy’s cousin, had performed that midnight ritual on her to make her more attractive. Her friend Issy had tried to help her out too by giving DeeDee an acorn amulet to help bring out her “inner charms.” But she still hadn’t found anyone special. It was just as well—soon she’d be married.

  A sneeze tickled her sinuses, and her arms started to itch like crazy beneath her jacket.

  Yep. Mistletoe was the bane of her existence this time of year.

  Despite her allergies, DeeDee continued to inspect the body as best she could with so many spectators still crowded around the scene. The victim’s left hand appeared mangled, but there was no blood, indicating the wound had happened post-mortem.

  She straightened and surveyed the area around the body. The damp ground had prevented the snow from sticking, so the dirt was easily visible. No footprints found, but there were several deep grooves leading away from where the body had been dumped.

  Wheel marks? No, too narrow.

  But maybe a sleigh, since the estate was quite large.

  A hint of white protruded from the pocket of the victim’s coat, and she bent to retrieve it. A napkin, from a local diner called The Coffee Connection. One side sported a coral-colored lipstick print.

  “Right.” DeeDee pulled out her cell phone and turned to Dex. “Can you secure the scene while I call it in?”

  “Sure thing.” Dex started moving people back from the body.

  Fingers numb, DeeDee pulled off her gloves and punched in Owen’s direct number then waited for two rings until he picked up.

  “Sheriff Gleason.”

  “Hey, boss. It’s DeeDee.” She squinted over at a couple of girls flirting with Dex despite the fact that he was not reciprocating. Some gals were badge bunnies, no matter how impossible the odds. “We have a situation at the Crenshaw mansion.”

  “What kind of a situation?” Owen’s voice perked up. Things had been a bit slow around Silver Hollow of late, and Owen always did love a good crime to solve.

  “This injury is actually a murder.”

  “Yes!” Owen coughed to cover the excitement in his tone. “Oh. That’s terrible. I’ll call the ME and head over to the scene. You can never have too many eyes on the case.”

  “Right. See you soon, sir.”

  DeeDee ended the call then wandered back over to the crime scene. Dex had corralled all the movie people off to one side, a safe distance from the perimeter to prevent any further contamination of the site. Good. Contamination of a crime scene could lead to something being thrown out on a technicality, and every single shred of evidence was important to make a conviction. Another lesson learned from poor Paige. DeeDee wasn’t about to make that same mistake, even if her hives were now getting so bad it felt as if her entire body were on fire.

  To stay busy, and keep from scratching her skin raw, DeeDee walked back to their squad car and got a roll of tape and several posts out of the trunk to cordon off the area. She’d made it about halfway back to the crime scene when a young blond starlet rushed toward the body, screaming hysterically and crying. At least Dex managed to catch the woman before she flung herself atop the body.

  DeeDee prayed for patience as she blocked off the area. After tying off the last section of tape, she turned and nearly stepped on the large smoke-gray cat sitting before her.

  Brimstone. One of the many animal familiars to the Quinn witch cousins and a local Silver Hollow busybody. The feline stared up at her with his haughty hellfire-orange eyes and purred.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked him. “Cat got your tongue?”

  Brimstone responded with a flat feline stare.

  “Fine. Bad joke. Sorry.” She stuffed what was left of the roll of tape into her pocket and stared down at the cat. He was plenty talkative when the Quinns were around, and she knew they frequently sent the cat out as a sort of drone spy to collect information for them. But DeeDee had never mastered the art of cat communication. So it was just meows and purrs and the occasional feline equivalent of an eye roll for her.

  Today, though, Brimstone seemed to be trying to tell her something. He cocked his head toward the opposite side of the crime scene, meowing loudly. Then he paced—back and forth, back and forth—until finally DeeDee followed him.

  About ten feet away, a fence lined the entire Crenshaw property. And sure enough, one section of chain link had a hole cut through the wire. Stuck on one side of the opening was a small swatch of sky-blue fabric flapping in the breeze.

  DeeDee hurried to collect it in an evidence bag. Up close, she saw orange threads running through it too. “Good work, Brimstone.”

  The cat purred as if to say, “Of course,” before sashaying away.

  Sirens wailed louder as Owen arrived along with the ME’s ambulance. Another car pulled up beside them—a black government-issue sedan. DeeDee’s heart dropped as the driver emerged. Tall, skinny, dressed like a reject off the film Men in Black with his dark suit and aviator shades. Yep. It was Dex’s boss at the FBPI, Stanley Judge.

  Dex—despite his unfortunate employer, who tended to persecute paranormals more than serve, protect, and defend them—was a good man and friend to the creatures who lived in Silver Hollow. Heck, he’d even fallen in love with a witch.

  But Stan? Well, Stan Judge was another matter entirely.

  He seemed hell-bent on wrangling in any paranormals he could catch on his watch and shipping them off the FBPI’s infamous Area 59, where all sorts of horrible experiments were done on the detainees, if the rumors were to be believed.

  It was a good thing Stan wasn’t the sharpest tack in the wall. DeeDee had kept him in the dark up until now about the paranormals in the area, and that had him convinced this movie set was nothing but make-believe.

  The local medical examiner, Ursula Lavoie, climbed out of the driver’s side of her ambulance and stalked up the drive alongside Stan. She looked stunning as always in a big white ermine coat with an enormous hood covering her face. Ursula was a vampire, so sunlight didn’t agree with her, for obvious reasons. Funny thing, though—Ursula found Stan cute. Talk about opposites attracting. Although Stan was pasty white, which vamps seemed to like in a mate. And hey, if it got the creepy dude to quit ogling DeeDee, she was all for a romance between those two.

  She met Owen and the others halfway up the drive and gave them a rundown of what she’d learned so far as they walked.

  “Want me to start getting st
atements, boss?” she asked once they’d reached the crime scene again, hoping for a respite from the mistletoe. Several hard sneezes escaped her before she could stop them.

  “Uh, sure, Deputy.” Owen narrowed his gaze. “You aren’t catching a cold, are you?”

  “No. I’m fine. Just allergies, boss.” DeeDee pulled out her trusty pad and pen then wandered over to pull spectators aside one by one. After interviewing people for about twenty minutes, however, she became a bit discouraged. No one seemed to have any idea what had happened to the victim. Which seemed particularly suspicious, given the trailers for the actors and crew lining the property. They were probably half a mile away, but still. Someone had to have heard something. Seriously. The victim had a stake driven through his heart. No way that would happen without a struggle or screaming.

  DeeDee finished up with her last few people then met Ursula near the edge of the driveway where the body, now on a gurney, had been wheeled. “Explain to me how someone can die in such a brutal way and no one hears a thing.”

  “You mean the stake?” Ursula asked. “That’s easy. It was driven through him post-mortem.”

  “He’s not a vamp then?”

  “Nope.”