Hell's Bell (Lizzie Grace 2)

The café was busy from the get-go the next morning, with a steady stream of customers filing in and out. Most of them were sit-downs, but there were plenty who came in to take away cake, biscuits, or hot drinks—which was good for our bottom line.

It wasn’t until after two that things began to ease. As I walked into the kitchen with a stack of plates, Mike—our chef—said, “Lizzie, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure.” I put the plates on the bench to the right of the dishwasher, and turned around. “What about?”

He hesitated, a hint of uncertainty touching his eyes. While most werewolves—aside from the O’Connors—had amber eyes, there were lots of color variations between packs. Mike’s eyes were a light honey gold in color, which suggested that although he hailed from the Sinclair pack, he’d originated from outside this reservation.

“Do you mind if we go out the back, where it’s a bit more private? It’s a personal matter.”

“Sure.” I motioned him to lead the way and then followed. Belle glanced at me, eyebrows raised in silent query. I shrugged and said, Why don’t you come with us?

She was, after all, co-owner of the place, and if there was a problem then we both needed to deal with it.

I’ll keep in light contact. If it’s something serious, I’ll come out.

Fair enough.

Mike pushed the rear door open and stepped out into the parking lot. I grabbed a coat from the nearby hook and shoved my hands through the sleeves as I followed him out. It was, I was relieved to discover, a whole lot warmer than it had been last night. There was even some blue sky beginning to appear, which gave me some hope that the summer weather that had so far been absent mightn’t be too far away.

When Mike didn’t immediately speak, I stopped and said, “What’s the problem?”

“No problem.” He hesitated. “But I’d like to ask you a favor.”

Caution immediately stirred. I’d gotten myself into trouble more than once for offering to help someone out before I actually knew what they wanted, and I certainly didn’t want step straight into a similar situation here. Not with everything else that was currently going on.

“What do you need?”

He scrubbed a hand across his chin and glanced across the lot. Aside from the vehicles and a lone blackbird pulling rubbish out of a nearby bin, the place was empty. After another second or two, he somewhat reluctantly said, “I was wondering if you’d meet with my sister. Her daughter has gone missing, and she’d like your help to find her.”

The last time I’d tried to find someone’s daughter, it hadn’t ended well—and Mike was well aware of that. Maybe that was why he was so hesitant. “Has she filed a missing person’s report?”

“No. I told her to, but she refuses.”

The stirrings of caution became trepidation. “Why?”

“Because my sister is Meika.”

The heaviness with which he said that implied I should have been familiar with her name and that only strengthened the trepidation. “I’m afraid I don’t—”

“Her daughter’s name is Larissa,” he cut in. “Larissa Marin.”

No wonder he’d wanted to speak out in the parking lot. While I had no doubt plenty of people were aware of their connection, he certainly wouldn’t want to be discussing something like this in hearing distance of others.

“I didn’t know that, Mike. I’m sorry if we’ve inadvertently said anything over the last few days that upset you.”

“You and Belle have treated me no different than before all this mess, which is more than can be said about some in the reservation.” A grim smile touched his lips. “I know what they’re all saying, but she didn’t do it. She didn’t kill Aron.”

I hesitated, but there was no point in pussyfooting around. “She did threaten his family, Mike, and she does apparently have a reputation for violence.”

“She’s a wild one, to be sure, but I promise you, murder isn’t her style.”

It was natural for them both to believe that, but if she’d gone on an alcohol or drug-fueled binge, anything was possible. And while I certainly didn’t believe she was directly responsible for the murders, she was still a suspect when it came to bringing the soul eater into the reservation.

“Neither you nor your sister can be absolutely sure of that.”

“But we can, because she went missing two days before Aron’s death. She didn’t do it. She wasn’t around to do it.”

“She wasn’t missing from the compound; she was banned. I know that much, Mike.”