Each shifter species had its own Shifter’s Council, who oversaw all shifter matters that couldn’t be resolved by their local pack or pride. Overseeing all the statewide shifter’s councils was a national council. Threats against shifters, or problems within shifter packs that required legal enforcement, were dealt with by the Enforcers, a branch of the National Shifter’s Council.
“Are the Enforcers still investigating it?” Coral asked.
“They don’t seem to be placing a lot of importance on it,” Allegra said, her forehead puckering with worry. “You’re Ginger’s sister, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Is she… the real thing? I mean, I don’t mean any offense-”
“No offense taken, Mrs. Kirby. You have every right to ask. My sister is certified, and she is very good. If Marie were dead-” Mrs. Kirby’s flinched as she said that, and Coral felt horrible. “Ginger would have sensed it. How long after Marie’s disappearance did Ginger step in?”
“Marie’s friends contacted us when she failed to meet them and they couldn’t get ahold of her. Ginger was called in about a week after that. She went to her room, handled her things, and she said Marie isn’t dead. So there’s still hope, isn’t there?”
“Of course there is,” Coral said. Ouch. The look on Mrs. Kirby’s face ripped at her heart-strings.
She left, promising to let Mrs. Kirby know if she found out anything more.
Then she headed over to the Bollinger’s residence, a large, new, mini-McMansion with an obscenely big lawn. The woman who answered the door there, a sleek panther shifter with a helmet perfectly styled hair, wore a lime-colored tennis dress, and held a Martini glass.
She looked Coral up and down with disdain. “Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want any,” Mrs. Bollinger said.
“I’m not selling anything. I’m a reporter doing a story on the disappearance of several people, including your husband-”
“Well, you better not find him, because I don’t want him back,” Mrs. Bollinger slurred, and slammed the door in Coral’s face.
Hmmph, Coral thought. No wonder he keeps running off. She felt bad for his teenaged kids, though.
She was done for the day at the newspaper, so she headed back home, feeling frustrated. She kept running into dead ends, and she felt like there was some bigger picture here that she was missing.
Her phone rang, and she fished in her purse and answered it. “So, what did you find out, Nancy Drew?”
“I think the appropriate literary reference would be Brenda Starr. And I found out plenty.” She hadn’t, but she didn’t want to give Frederick the satisfaction of knowing she kept running into dead ends.
“Yeah? Spill it!”
“Nope. It’s a secret. And now, I’m going home to get ready for my date.”
Chapter Six
Coral was renting a small cement block house painted in a shocking shade of turquoise, which was apparently common in Florida. Her whole neighborhood looked like a row of different colored Lego blocks, each plopped onto an emerald square of lawn.
She stood in her bedroom pawing through a dozen different outfits, trying to decide what look she was going for. Should she dress sexy, and make him sorry he’d ever stood her up? Conservative as a nun, to show him she wasn’t the least bit interested?
Her cell phone rang as she stood there in her underwear, looking at the half dozen dresses she’d pulled out of the closet.
She grabbed it and answered without bothering to look at the screen to see who was calling.
“I’d go low-cut, if I were you,” her mother said.
“Mom!” Coral yelped, looking around the room. “Do you have a hidden camera in here? Do you? You better tell me.” She wouldn’t put it past her.
“No, but I called the gossip columnist at your newspaper to get the lowdown of what you’ve been up to. So, you’re going out with a bear shifter tonight? And a wealthy one, too, that’ll be nice. I never expected to have bear cubs as grandchildren, but a cub is a cub-”
“You are a crazy woman. I am not marrying this man, he’s a rude, stuck up jerk. And Ginger is pregnant with twins, how many grandcubs does one woman need?”
“What a silly question. At least a dozen. Do you have your yellow dress with you? Wear that, it’s very flattering on you. And call me when you get home to tell me all the details.”
“I most certainly will not. Good night, love you, now go stalk somebody else.” Coral hung up, exasperated. She was already stressed out enough without having her mother starting up with the wedding planning every time a man even glanced her direction.
She spent a nervous half hour putting makeup on, taking it off because she’d layered it on too thick, and then putting it back on again.
Finally, she picked the dress her mother had recommended, a buttery yellow number with a ruched waist and a low neckline, and strappy yellow low heeled sandals with little daisies on them.
As soon as the doorbell rang, however, she was consumed with doubt. Were the daisies childish? Did they make her look like a sexy flower child or a twelve year old?
Apparently she needn’t have worried, because when she opened the door for Flint, he did not pay any attention to her shoes.