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Authors: GW/Taliesin Publishing

BOOK: Melindas Wolves
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“I don’t care what a judge would think, frankly.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I care about the safety of my granddaughter, her mates, and the hundreds of other workers at that site.”

“And the land,” he pointed out.

She nodded. “This is a truth. I hate that casino. Everyone knows my position on that project. But this has nothing to do with my personal opinion. Heed my words, that construction is doomed. It will never occur. There’s no doubt of that in my soul. The question isn’t when will it fail, but rather how many innocent souls will die in the process.”

Incredible. Keegan focused on Mimi’s words, staring at her severe expression. The crazy thing was he knew she was right. He’d known it before he arrived. He didn’t need a shaman to tell him.

He breathed heavily for several moments, staring at the old woman’s serious face.

She would not apologize for her harsh manner. This was her way. And he knew she was right. He didn’t expect her to soften the blow. It would have been ludicrous anyway.

Finally he blew out a breath. “What should I do?”

Mimi smiled faintly. “Follow your heart, son. Listen to the voices in your soul. They will guide you. The spirits won’t let you down. They have made their presence known to you now on two occasions. There’s a reason for that. You must heed their warning.

Open your mind. Listen. Act.” Her words filtered through the air like a thin layer of cotton candy.

And he knew deep inside he must listen to her. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. So cold. So rigid. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Mimi set her other hand on top of his. “No thanks necessary, son. Now go. Talk to your mates. Make a plan. And then act. Quickly before it’s too late.”

He had so many more questions, but none of them were issues Mimi would be able to answer. Her position was that of medicine woman. She had visions, feelings, vibes of concern. She didn’t have an action plan to evacuate the premises and keep the employees safe. That was his job.

He finally released her and stood. He had one final thought. “Will there be another earthquake?”

She smiled. “I don’t know.”

He nodded and jogged down the porch toward his truck. He hadn’t even gone inside to say hello. Mimi would make his apologies.

As he drove home, his fingers shook on the steering wheel. He bounced his leg up and down with worry.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into his driveway and made his way into the house on leaden feet. When he stepped inside, he found Melinda sitting on the island giggling at something Trace said. Trace was leaning over the stove, stirring something. His back was turned to both of them.

The house smelled fantastic, like red sauce and garlic. Spaghetti?

Too bad he would vomit if he swallowed even one bite.

Both Melinda and Trace turned their heads to face him as he shut the front door.

Their faces fell instantly.

“What happened?” Melinda asked.

Keegan blew out a long breath as he approached them. He rounded the island, clamped a hand briefly on Trace’s shoulder, and then nudged Melinda’s thighs apart and buried his head against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her ass and held on as though she were a life line.

Melinda buried her hands in his hair, pulled the elastic band free, and stroked through the long strands. “Talk to us.”

He would. He had no choice. But he needed a moment to bask in her touch first.

Trace spoke first. “Where have you been?” he asked gently.

Keegan lifted his head, keeping one arm around Melinda as he turned to face Trace.

“I went to see Mimi.”

Melinda sucked in a breath.

“And?” Trace asked.

“It was probably more for moral support than anything else. I was curious. I needed to hear what she had to say.” He chuckled. “Hell, I needed her to chew me a new asshole is what I needed.”

“I could have done that for you,” Melinda teased. “All you had to do was ask.”

He smiled, grazing his hand up her back until he reached her neck. He cupped the back of her head and leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled back, he groaned. “I know. But sitting on the porch at Griffen’s house talking to Mimi didn’t make my dick hard. I get a little distracted when you talk to me. No offense.”

She giggled. “None taken. And I’m glad you aren’t physically attracted to my grandma.”

Silence fell.

Keegan knew his mates were waiting on him to speak.

Something sizzled on the stove. Trace turned around and extinguished all the burners. He lifted a giant pot of pasta, carried it to the sink, and poured it in the colander. Steam rose into the air. When he finished, he wiped his hands on a towel and nodded to the living room. “Let’s go sit down.”

Keegan lifted Melinda off the counter and kept a hand on her lower back as they rounded to the couch. He pulled her down next to him while Trace took a seat in the chair next to the sofa.

He needed to just get it all out. “I got a threatening email.”

Melinda grabbed his hand and squeezed.

Trace narrowed his gaze, stroking his chin with his fingers. He wasn’t stupid. He’d been in the room when Keegan had read the email for the dozenth time.

“I was given choices. Either back off and stop investigating this rumor of intentional disregard for safety and find a way to convince others there is no reason to worry, or…” he licked his lips, “the situation will be handled for me.”

“Fuck,” Trace muttered.

“Yeah. Or fucked, depending on how you want to look at it.”

“You won’t back off, of course,” Melinda stated emphatically.

Keegan gave her a wan smile. “Of course. And in the spirit of obviousness, you’ll leave town and hide somewhere safe, right?”

She laughed outright then and rolled her eyes. “Sure, let me just pack my bags. I’ve been needing a vacation.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Trace stated without acknowledging her mirth.

Melinda jumped up, yanking her hand from Keegan’s. She stomped to the center of the room, far enough neither man could reach out and grab her. “Please tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

Keegan shook his head. “Not kidding. But I know you well, hon. I’m clear on your stance. I’m sure any effort of coercion on my part would be wasted and only assure me a cozy spot on the couch for the duration of the night.”

“Damn right.” She set her hands on her hips. “Do not ever fucking mention the idea of separating again. We might work in different locations during the day—perhaps miles apart from each other—but at night, we three share the same bed. Nonnegotiable.

For life.” She added a tapping foot for emphasis or perhaps out of stress. “I never want to go to sleep angry or separated. Got it?”

Keegan nodded. He reached out a hand. “Come back. I need to touch you. When I have a hand on you, it calms me.”

She inched forward. “Then why on earth would you suggest I leave town?”

“I’m not so selfish that I don’t value your safety over my comfort.”

She stepped between his legs and set her hands on his shoulders as he tipped his head back. “We’re a team. Thank you for sharing this information. I know it was hard for you. I don’t want secrets between us.”

“Trust me. My revelation wasn’t altruistic in the least. The only reason I considered mentioning it was out of fear for your safety when you aren’t with one of us.” He grabbed her waist during this admission.

“I’ll let that slide and bask in your openness.” She pulled his head in to her chest and hugged him tight.

“We need a plan,” Trace pointed out.

“Yes.” Keegan leaned back, pulling Melinda across his lap and holding her side tight against him.

“We’ll have to call the FBI now. This is bigger than either of our sheriff’s offices can handle. I’ll call my boss tonight and let him know what’s going on. You call Corbin and then his chief.”

Keegan nodded.

“Tomorrow, we go in to work with far more bodies. You’ll continue to collect all the data you can on the shortcuts taken at the site. A large deputy presence will keep anyone from being able to cause a problem.”

“Until we all leave to go home,” Keegan added.

“In numbers there is strength.” Trace lifted his face. “You’ll come with us tomorrow.”

Melinda shook her head. “Nope. I need to do inventory at my shop tomorrow. And besides, I’m probably safer away from you than with you. And you know it.”

“We don’t know anything anymore,” Trace said. “But we also aren’t going to argue about this tonight. I’ll get one of the guys from the precinct to go with you to the shop.”

“How about if I get someone from the rez instead,” Melinda offered. “A Native American shifter on the force would be even more intimidating as a body guard. Plus he would know the area better.”

“Okay.” Keegan squeezed her waist. “So we have a temporary plan for tomorrow.

We’ll need to reevaluate at the end of the day. We can’t very well live like this indefinitely.”

Trace rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “Hell, this can’t possibly go on indefinitely.

All we need is a court injunction that shuts down the construction. Even a temporary injunction would send all the workers home during the investigation. If we can accomplish that, we can breathe easier while Templeton Construction dukes it out in court. Meanwhile, we’ll continue to investigate the builder until we nail someone’s ass to the wall. It may take time gathering info, but at least an unsafe environment won’t continue to flourish while we wait.”

Keegan nodded. He hoped it was that simple. If he had to live with the constant stress that Melinda’s life was in danger, he would have a heart attack soon.

Melinda lifted his chin and met his gaze. “Let’s eat. You have to be starving. And then I’ll see what I can do to make that wrinkle on your forehead disappear for a while.”

“Excellent.”

 •●• 

“It doesn’t seem to me as if you’re handling things.” Wayne paced in his office, running a hand through his hair. “The site is now covered with deputies. Hell, the fucking FBI has been called. Is that construction office clean?”

“Yes.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes. I did it myself. The deputies won’t find anything to implicate you or indicate that there was an intentional use of substandard materials.”

“You better be damn sure of that.”

“Look, it isn’t a stretch. Relax. The entire construction site is a disaster from the earthquake. The damage from that incident alone is enough. I’m sure even a thorough investigation would turn up nothing but crumbling structures as a result of seismic activity and wear and tear on the materials from sitting for over a year.”

“You better be right. If not, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

“I’m sure.” The man’s voice was stronger than previous conversations, but Wayne still worried about his choice for handling this mess.

“If I have to take more extreme measures to cover this up, I won’t hesitate. Keep that in mind while you’re enjoying your life of luxury.”

The man said nothing, though Wayne thought he heard him swallow.

Wayne ended the call.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The following morning did not bring less stress to Keegan’s life. Two men from the reservation met Keegan and Trace at Melinda’s shop—one from the sheriff’s office and a civilian who was a friend of the Bartel family. Apparently Melinda’s family was well-respected among the tribe. It hadn’t been difficult to find volunteers to help without question.

The unease Keegan felt from the moment he arrived at the construction site did not abate in the least. He wasn’t sure if he was overreacting from the various forces against him or not. He couldn’t take any chances though.

He took a deep breath and considered how nervous he would be without having met Melinda.

Very.

The facts alone were daunting. Dead guy who sent him a warning email. A new email threatening Keegan outright. Shit all over the place in disarray from the previous night. New problems that crept up by the hour—both physical and unexplainable. An overall eerie vibe everywhere around the construction site.

Keegan wasn’t the only one on pins and needles. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to catch on to the fact trouble was brewing.

He spent the entire day making his way to every section of the building in an effort to cover every base. He needed every single fact documented—both mentioned in Friedmont’s email and discovered on their own.

There was no doubt the foundation would need to be re-poured. The concrete used the first time hadn’t been up to the standard level of quality that existed even
before
the earthquake. And with the new requirements put in place after the seismic activity, the piles needed to be re-poured at a much deeper level.

All work on the frame was halted first thing in the morning. There was no need to continue. All construction came to an abrupt halt. The workers held the face of fear, knowing without words their jobs were at stake. Best case scenario they got laid off for months on end while the entire job was torn down and prepared to begin anew.

Worst case scenario—the casino project was scrapped entirely and hundreds of men who anticipated working on the outskirts of Sojourn for the next several years lost their jobs permanently.

Either option sucked.

While the FBI worked behind the scenes to investigate Templeton Construction themselves, every hand on deck worked feverishly to gather evidence of the physical sort.

What Keegan hoped for was that whoever sent him the threatening email was caught—and fast. He wouldn’t rest easy until he knew for sure his mates were safe.

And even then, he knew he would sleep with one eye open for many years. Who knew how deep the pockets of a rich, greedy bastard could be?

Keegan felt the weight of a heavy burden as he stepped out onto the scaffolding erected in one of the far corners of the site. The team of men already on the platform gave him a grim look. “Sorry, boss. The wood used for this section of the framework was also in poor shape. Some of it is rotted, and it wasn’t cured correctly.”

Keegan’s shoulders slumped. This wasn’t what he signed up for when he became an inspector. His presence alone was meant to ensure nothing like this ever happened.

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