“Well, an elderly wolf might just have been brought to the hospital as I was leaving last night, and I might just have skimmed his mind to see what was happening.”
Amusement twitched my lips. “I take it this wolf might just have been from the Marin pack?”
“Indeed he might have. And he might also have turned out to be a pack alpha who’d been part of the emergency meeting convened after the witch’s no-show.”
“Is said wolf okay?”
“Suspected heart attack, according to the duty nurse.”
I frowned. “I’d have thought wolves immune to those sort of problems, given their bodies have natural set points for health.”
“Yeah, but they still do age, regardless, and with that comes problems.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “And this one was rather on the tubby side—too much wine and hamburgers.”
“Did you steal that from his mind, as well?”
“Didn’t have to. His wife was berating him long and loud.” She picked up a plate and began filling it. “Anyway, they rather surprisingly haven’t gone back to their stand of not having an official witch on the reservation, and have instead asked to interview their second choice.”
“Canberra’s aware of the true size of the wellspring here now, so that’s really not surprising. It was either they choose a witch, or Canberra was going to do it for them.”
She took a sip of eggnog. “Whoa, I think I overdid the rum this time.”
I tried mine, felt the burn all the way down, and then grinned. “Neither of us need to drive anywhere, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Yeah, but we open again tomorrow and we do need to be mobile.”
“Given a good portion of the reservation has been partying for two and a half days, I’m thinking no one will actually notice if we’re carrying a little alcohol hangover.” I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Don’t suppose you managed to get a name while you were digging around?”
“He’s apparently younger than they would have preferred.” Belle wrinkled her nose. “He’s an Ashworth—Frederick Ashworth, I think.”
“Which is not a name I’m immediately familiar with.”
“No, but it is a rather old-fashioned one, which suggests he’s from one of the older Ashworth lines.”
“There are plenty of branches in the Ashworth family tree,” I said. “All that really matters to us is the fact he’s not from my particular family branch.”
“Yes.” She paused. “Aiden’s heading this way. You’d better pour the man a drink, because his thoughts are full-on grumpy.”
I hastily grabbed and filled another glass then walked across to the front door, opening it just as he’d raised his hand to knock. He was wearing a black T-shirt that emphasized his muscular body and—rather sadly—baggy jeans that didn’t. His hair looked to have been roughly finger-combed and dark honey-colored whiskers shadowed his chin and jawline.
Scruffy or not, he looked damn fine.
“Morning,” I said, and offered him the eggnog. “I’m informed you need this rather badly.”
His nostrils flared. “There’s a hell of a lot of alcohol in that thing, and I start work in precisely one hour.”
“No wonder you’re all sorts of grumpy this morning,” came Belle’s comment.
Aiden kissed me briefly and then stepped inside. “Seriously, can you just stay out of my brain?”
“I wasn’t in your brain, Ranger. Didn’t have to be when you’re radiating unhappy vibes all over the place. You had lunch?”
“No. I haven’t even had breakfast. I thought I’d come see Lizzie, and take her statement while I’m here.”
“And they say romance is dead.” Belle came back out of the kitchen and handed him a plate.
He pulled a chair out and sat down. “Hey, I’m here, and that took a heroic amount of effort considering the lack of sleep over the last few days, let me tell you.”
“So was the lack of sleep work-related or party?” I asked mildly.