Fires Of Solstice Part 33

"Bleddyn, you can't just shrug this off."

Meredythe glanced around. Where was Rhys' voice coming from?

"And what should I do-go to New York and lend credence to what this fool says?"

Her gaze zeroed in on the back wall, a wall shared with the shed where Bleddyn kept the wolves' food. She crawled into the kennel and leaned against the wall.

"What's he going to do, Rhys, publish his findings in a medical journal? He'd be laughed out of the profession."

"But he has proof, Bleddyn. DNA. Yes, most in the medical community will laugh at him. But some will listen. They'll study and research more. Eventually they'll come to you."

The frustration in Bleddyn's voice was unmistakable. "What do you want me to do -kill him?"

Covering her mouth with both hands, Meredythe waited.

"Of course not, but-"

"But nothing, Rhys. This Jon Bowers undoubtedly has his material backed up in at least fourteen different places. All I can do is ride this out. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to feed the wolves."

Dropping her hands, Meredythe slid to the straw-covered floor of the kennel. Jon Bowers. The black hairs from the pimp's body. He said he was going to run another DNA test to see if it was a wolf or dog.

"Oh my G.o.d. Jon knows about Bleddyn." She looked up at Shadow. "I have to do something. I have to talk to him."

Are you leaving again?

She pushed herself to her hands and knees and crawled toward the entrance. "I have to, Shadow. If I don't, Bleddyn could be in danger. If people find out he is a werewolf, that werewolves really exist..." She glanced up at him. "Well, bad things will happen."

He followed her. You must take me with you.

Once outside, she rose to her feet and looked back at the wolf-dog. "I can't do that, Shadow."

He leaned against her thigh. Then you must take Bleddyn.

"Yeah, as if he'd ever listen to me," she answered, not caring if Shadow understood sarcasm or not.

Then I must go with you. There is danger.

She headed for the gate. "Shadow, I said no."

Then I will tell Bleddyn what you are planning to do. He will not allow you to leave.

Turning, Meredythe stared at Shadow. He was sitting on his haunches, his tongue lolling out.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

No.

Sighing, Meredythe turned back toward the gate. Animals were running her life now. "Come on then. We have to leave now, before Bleddyn has a chance to stop us."

Stepping out of the kennel, Meredythe looked around. Bleddyn was outside, back in the enclosure with his wolves. Her car was in the center garage. Bleddyn said he left the keys in the ignition. With a little luck, she'd be gone before he knew it.

She made it to the garage without being seen. Opening the back door, she motioned Shadow in. "Stay down. If someone sees me, I'll tell them I'm just driving into Winterbourne to the shops."

Trying to be as quiet as possible, she lifted the garage door, cringing at the grating noise. As soon as the door was up, she hopped into the car, backed it out and turned toward the driveway. Bleddyn was striding out of the wolf enclosure toward her.

Rolling down the window, she shouted, "I'm going into town. Be back soon." She stepped on the gas and roared down the driveway.

Standing at the top of the driveway, Bleddyn watched as Meredythe's car disappeared. She had said something about visiting the shops when he'd taken her to dinner. Turning, he headed into the house.

Damian was sitting at the table reading the paper. Bleddyn c.o.c.ked an eyebrow.

"Comfortable?"

Looking over the top of the paper, Damian grinned a toothy grin. "Quite."

"Why is Meredythe going to town?"

"How should I know? She's your woman, not mine."

A tired Meredythe pulled into her parking garage late that afternoon. She should have been home hours earlier, but a nasty traffic accident then a quick stop at a pet store for a leash and collar had kept her on the road much longer than she'd planned.

Pushing her tired body out of the car, she opened the back door and Shadow jumped out.

"Hold still, Shadow," she said as he growled. "And you have to wear the collar and leash while we're in the city. Two blocks and we'll be home."

With a sigh of relief, Meredythe rounded the corner to her street. She'd go see Jon tomorrow. First she'd find out what he knew. Then she'd figure out how to keep him from publishing the information.

Shadow's growl brought her out of her musings. Three police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of her building. She paused at the edge of the small crowd, searching for a familiar face.

"Mrs. Scandelli, what's going on?"

"Meredythe? Meredythe! You're all right. Officer, look, here she is. She's not dead."

A policeman turned toward them. "Meredythe Welsh?"

"Yes."

"Come with me, please." He started to reach for her arm but stopped when Shadow growled.

"Ah, follow me." Pushing his way through the small crowd, he led her through the door of her apartment building, muttering a blasphemy under his breath when he discovered the elevator was out of order.

Meredythe ignored his grumbling. "What's going on, Officer?"

"There's been a break-in."

She sprinted up the stairwell, Shadow at her side. When she reached the third floor landing, she shoved the door open and dashed into the hallway.

A policeman stood just outside her open door. Yellow crime scene tape was plastered across the entrance.

The officer stepped to intercept her. "I'm sorry, miss. You'll have to go another way."

"But that's my apartment. I'm Meredythe Welsh."

Eyeing Shadow dubiously, he stepped back. "You better brace yourself."

Ducking under the police tape, Meredythe stepped into her apartment. Neck hairs bristling, Shadow followed, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

There is danger here. I have never smelled this smell before, but it is evil.

Meredythe stood in the middle of her living room and stared at the chaos that had once been her apartment. Every piece of furniture was broken, shattered pieces scattered from living room to kitchen. Dirt from uprooted plants was mounded next to gla.s.s shards from picture frames. CDs were embedded in the walls. Her refrigerator was shoved partway through the wall separating the living room and bedroom.

Dazed, she turned in a slow circle, her mind blank. Shadow was plastered against her thigh.

"Meredythe?"

She turned toward the voice. Jon Bowers waved his hand in front of her face.

She blinked then shook her head. "Jon? What happened? Who did this? Why are you here?"

"One of your neighbors called the police. Your door was open, and well, you see what the place looks like. You hadn't been seen in awhile and the first officer on the scene found blood in the bathroom."

She focused on him. "Blood? Whose?"

"We thought it was yours."

"Excuse me, miss," interrupted another officer, "your neighbors haven't seen you around for a while. Where have you been?"

"Upstate," she answered. Closing her eyes, she took a couple of deep breaths. Then she opened her eyes and continued in a stronger voice, "I'm a reporter. I was working on a story."

"Do you have any idea who could have done this? Do you have any enemies that you know of?"

She shook her head. "No, no one." She looked around again. "I don't understand. Who could hate me this much?"

Chapter Seventeen.

Four and a half hours later, Meredythe stood in the middle of a hotel room and stared at the walls. The police had questioned her for close to three hours about who might have trashed her apartment and what, if anything, was missing. Thank goodness Jon had been there to vouch for her ident.i.ty. She'd left Winterbourne on the spur of the moment without her purse and had no identification on her.

After the police left, Jon had remained. But before he'd had a chance to ask any questions, there'd been a knock on the door. James King had sent a car and driver to take her to a hotel. Jon had insisted on accompanying her.

Now he held a cup. "Here, drink this."

Shivering, she hugged herself. "What is it?"

"Coffee. Room service sent a pot up. They also sent enough food for an army." Jon looked around the luxurious suite. "Nice to have a boss with this much pull."

Ignoring the sarcasm in his voice, Meredythe accepted the coffee and gulped. Who trashed her apartment? And why?

Jon waved his hand in front of her face.

"What? The suite," she answered, her mind still on the break-in. "He keeps it for out-of-town guests."

Shadow trotted out of the bedroom and plastered himself to her side with a growl.

Jon stepped back.

"Is that the werewolf you went looking for?"

Wrenching her mind away from her dark thoughts, Meredythe concentrated on Jon fully for the first time since she'd returned to the city.

Werewolf? Shadow? He had to be out of his mind. Then she shook herself mentally and prodded her tired brain. Jon had done DNA tests. He was why she'd come back to New York. But Shadow? "Are you nuts? This is one of the wolf-dogs your friend Frank had at Columbia University."

He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "So where's the werewolf?"

Meredythe gripped the cup tighter. He knew there was a werewolf. Damian had stolen his briefcase, but had Jon backed up any of the information? She had to find out. She closed her eyes and jogged her mind again. She had to think!

Her hand drifted to Shadow's head. "What are you talking about?"

He scowled. "Forget the innocent act. I did the second DNA test myself. Then I did a third one because I didn't believe what I was seeing. DNA doesn't lie. Werewolves exist, and I know you know it."

"Jon..."

He shook his head. "Don't try to deny it. I won't believe you. I may have once, but that was before my briefcase was stolen right after I showed your boss my evidence. And look at how your apartment was trashed. No normal human being could do that amount of damage. What the h.e.l.l is going on, Meredythe?"

She sank onto the sofa.

Shadow lay down at her feet, his gaze locked on Jon. He is angry and he wants you for himself.

Sighing, Meredythe closed her eyes. Why had she allowed Jon to come with her? Why hadn't she told him she'd see him in the morning? If only she weren't so tired that her brain wasn't functioning clearly. These last forty-eight hours had been h.e.l.l.

Bleddyn Glyndwr, a man she'd found very attractive, was a werewolf-and a murderer. Even so, she'd given in to her body's urges and slept with him. Next she'd discovered she could walk in and out of fire without being hurt. Then a maniac had destroyed her apartment, and now Jon was acting like a jealous lover.

She opened her eyes and focused on his guarded expression. His body was stiff. He' d dropped his arms to his sides, hands clenched into fists. Surely she hadn't encouraged him that much, had she? She'd only gone out with him twice.

Sighing, she blinked. d.a.m.n, but she was tired. If only she could just go to sleep. But first she had to find out what Jon knew and whether or not Bleddyn was in danger.

Relaxing her stiff body, she leaned back, grabbed a pillow and cradled it against her chest. "I didn't believe it myself, Jon, but I did find a werewolf."

He interrupted before she could continue. "He's the murderer, isn't he?"

Think, Meredythe, think. She shook her head. "It's not like that, Jon."