The way things were between her and Simon wasn’t the same as the way things were between Merri and Michael, for example. Their relationship wasn’t anything like the ones she’d read about in what Simon and Vlad called the kissy books. It wasn’t uncomplicated, but it wasn’t fraught with misunderstandings—which, according to Merri and Ruth, were a lot more fun to read about than to experience. Not all relationships worked. And sometimes people were confused and unsure of what they felt and what they wanted to have from, and give to, someone else.
Maybe this was normal. Maybe Simon just needed a night to go out and do Wolfy things with other Wolves. Which wasn’t something she could do.
“You’re looking at something, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t me.”
Meg let out a breathy sound that might have been a yip, could have been a scream, but wasn’t much of anything since there was barely any sound.
“Don’t sneak up on me!” she scolded Jester.
The Coyote stared at her. “There wasn’t any sneaking. I walked up to you. I thought you saw me. It’s not my fault you were looking at something that wasn’t here.” He studied Simon’s closed front door, then considered her. “What were you looking at?”
She felt her face heat with embarrassment. “Nothing.”
“Huh. Must be a human thing. When we’re that focused, we’re looking at something.”
“I have to get to work, but I’m going to A Little Bite to get breakfast first.” Maybe Tess would know why Simon had to go in to work so early.
“I’ve already had breakfast, but I’d like a mug of long-grass tea.”
Something about the look in Jester’s eyes, something about the way he licked his lips when he said he’d already had breakfast, made Meg uneasy. “Did you eat a bunny?” Or a rat? She knew that, for most of the Courtyard’s residents, bunnies and rats were interchangeable meat, and what was consumed depended on what you could catch. But she was human, and while she’d eaten the meat of one critter, she had no desire to taste the meat of the other.
“No, not a bunny.”
That look in the Coyote’s eyes—a sharp reminder that he was as much a predator as the rest of the terra indigene who lived in the Courtyard.
“Are you driving to work?” he asked, sounding—and looking—more like the Jester she knew.
Since he had a hand under her elbow and was herding her toward the archway and the garages, he didn’t seem to need an answer from her. In fact, neither of them said anything until they drove past the Market Square and she saw Closed signs tacked to sawhorses that blocked all the archways that provided access to the businesses.
“Did something happen last night?” She spotted Nathan, Blair, and Vlad—and Simon—walking out of the butcher shop.
“Oh, somebody made a bit of a mess,” Jester replied. “I guess the Business Association decided to close the whole market for a couple of hours to do a thorough cleaning.”
“What kind of mess?”
“I can’t say—and since I don’t want to get into trouble over this, please don’t ask me again.”
Jester didn’t want to get into trouble? Who could intimidate the Coyote who looked after the Elementals’ steeds?
She could think of a few individuals besides the Elementals themselves. Simon, for one. But there were also Henry, Vlad, and Tess. Even Mr. Erebus. Because Jester was a friend, she didn’t ask again.
When they reached the garages behind the Liaison’s Office, Jester hopped out of the BOW and opened the garage door for her. Then he hurried into A Little Bite, not waiting for her.
Appetite gone—not that she’d wanted any food since she’d seen Simon’s note on the kitchen table—Meg got her purse and carry sack out of the BOW and headed for the back door of the Liaison’s Office. She’d just opened the door when Kowalski walked up the access way, dressed for work.
“Hey, Meg.” Kowalski smiled, but he seemed distracted by the sawhorse and sign that blocked the third archway leading into the Market Square. Then he looked at the second story of her building. “Do you know if Agent O’Sullivan is here? Or if he has company?”
“I think he’s still in Hubb NE,” Meg replied. Then she blinked. “Company? Like, romantic company?” Greg O’Sullivan seemed too intense to have a girlfriend, and if he did have one, she probably lived in Hubbney. Besides, O’Sullivan knew the rules about bringing anyone into the Courtyard without telling Simon or Vlad. She couldn’t imagine him doing something that might get his friend killed.
“Being an ITF agent doesn’t eliminate canoodling.”
“Canoodling?” What an odd-sounding word.
He grinned. “Something you and Simon might like to try sometime.”
She couldn’t say one way or the other until she figured out what the word meant.
The humor faded from Kowalski’s face. “I asked because I noticed a van in the Stag and Hare’s lot. Could be someone parking there to make an early delivery to one of the other buildings on that side of the street. But if it belonged to someone’s friend who had stayed overnight without permission . . .”
“You would encourage them to cease canoodling and go out for breakfast before anyone else noticed?”
“Something like that.”
His answer provided no clue, so she mentally flipped through the training images of games, since that’s what the word brought to mind. Maybe it was something like bingo? But she couldn’t picture anyone risking Simon’s wrath—or Blair’s teeth—to stay up all night playing bingo.
Kowalski tipped his head toward the Market Square. “Know anything about that?”
“Jester said someone made a mess.”
He tensed for a moment before trying to give the impression of being curious but not overly concerned. “A mess? Stores were vandalized?”
“Don’t know. When I drove by, it looked like they were working on the open area, not the shops. You’d have to ask Simon or Vlad. I didn’t know about it until I drove by a few minutes ago.” Meg studied him. “Karl? Is something wrong?” Suddenly the banter about canoodling seemed off, made her uneasy—just like the look in Jester’s eyes had made her uneasy.
“Probably not. But as Captain Burke likes to say, we try to keep things smooth.” He smiled. “It’s my turn to get the coffee, so I’d better get going.”
She had a feeling Kowalski stopped smiling the moment he headed for A Little Bite’s back door and she could no longer see his face. She had a feeling Kowalski, like Jester, knew more than he was saying.
And she had a very bad feeling that she should know what had happened in the Market Square last night.
? ? ?
Simon walked out of the butcher shop and saw Meg drive past in the BOW. For a moment, he felt happy, excited to see her. Then he felt uncomfortable. Queasy. Guilty.
“Boone is washing the display case, making it human clean,” Henry said, coming to stand beside him. “When he’s done, he’ll put out the remaining meat.”
“No. That meat will go to Meat-n-Greens for the meals served there.”
“Then Boone won’t have anything to sell until the next shipment of meat comes in from the farms,” Henry said. He waited a beat. “Nothing wrong with the meat that was taken. It wasn’t out of the refrigerator long enough to start spoiling.”
“The meat is fine for us, but not for the humans.”