Wolf at the Door

Epilogue

“You want to explain to me why there’s a “Sold” sign in my landlord’s front yard?”

“Really?” Her cousin’s voice on the phone, deep and amused. “You need an explanation? You can’t make that deductive leap all by your lonesome?”

“Michael . . .”

“Because that would make you a terrible accountant.”

“Michael!”

“Well, it would.”

She ground her teeth. “There was never a ‘For Sale’ sign, so how could it even be sold?”

“Before you even went out there, when I talked to Cain and Cain talked to them, they’d discussed wanting to sell their family home—too big for them for years—so they could retire more and move to North Dakota.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Oh, sure it does, what with the real estate market being in such a slump. They were smart not to bother listing until the market began to recover.” Then, softly, to someone else: “Two minutes, honey. Then Daddy will push you on the swing. Gotta finish with cousin Rachael.” Louder: “Lara says hi and she loves you.”

“You know what I mean, you deliberate goob, and tell Lara I love her, too. And what is this retire more? And who retires in any capacity in order to end up, on purpose, in North Dakota?”

“The way I got it from Cain—may she rest in peace or burn in hell as long as she’s gone forever—these two aren’t very good at retiring.”

“They’ve made a lot of pies in the two weeks I’ve been here,” Rachael admitted.

“So they wanted to retire more, and build their dream home in the most beautiful place they knew, which happens to be in the state of North Dakota beside the lake where they’d honeymooned.

“After Cain was out of the picture and I heard that, I found out what fair market value was for their home and made a cash offer, which they took. They never even had to list their house. Which, by the way, is now your house. So now you can sleep in the turret. Or sell it. Or keep it and rent it out.”

“Or sleep in the turret,” she said excitedly. “We can fit a queen-sized bed in there!”

“Oooh, a shared turret, I’m impressed. I wasn’t sure Edward was turret-worthy.”

“Shut up. Stop calling me. I hate you.”

“You called me, cousin.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, thanks for the turret and the house around it.”

“Thanks for befriending powerful allies and killing a threat to our Pack.” His voice deepened as all traces of teasing fled. “Rachael, truly. A house is a poor thank-you for what you’ve done for the Pack, and for me. But it’s yours, and the title is in your name, so as I said, if you and Edward want to return to the Cape, you can sell it or not as you like.”

“I’m not sure the Cape is ready for our return, Michael, but I’ll keep all that in mind.”

“I am so grateful for all that you did, and so sorry for all that you suffered. Two weeks ago I already owed you more than I could have ever repaid.”

“We’re family, dumbass.”

“Exactly so. You already meant the world to me, and now look! Unbelievable! I am rich, Rachael, in all things. And I have you to thank for an awful lot of that. Who besides me has an accountant who can analyze a P and L statement as easily as she shatters cervical vertebrae?”

“Gross, Michael.”

“I’ll want to meet your mate,” he added thoughtfully. “Happened right in front of him and he didn’t have a nervous breakdown. I won’t deny being impressed.”

“He did have one. He just waited until I was done with mine.”

“Truly, a match made by the gods.”

“I hate you.”

“Just sayin’.” Ah! That was better. Now he sounded more like her cousin and less like her Pack leader. “So what’s up next for you?”

“Gotta go tell my man he’s sleeping in a turret for a while.”

“If he’s anything like you’ve described, he’s probably got his Star Trek posters all over it.”

“Star WARS, Michael, get a clue.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, I hope so!” she cried. “That’s a pretty big thing to f*ck up.”

“Very, very sorry.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

“And Michael?”

“Yeah, cuz?”

“It’s possible we’ve been sleeping in the turret because I sent the son on a month-long all-expenses-paid cruise vacation with his fiancée.”

The Pack leader roared laughter and dropped his cell phone. By the time he picked it up, she was long gone, and in more ways than one.