Huh.
His Challenger was still out front, and neither of the two Packmasters had brought their own vehicle, which meant they had to still be here. I tapped my fingers against the doorjamb, wondering if they’d gone for a romp in the woods. When I returned to the living room, I heard the faint sound of chatter upstairs and pool balls cracking, so they weren’t up there either.
Which left me with only one conclusion. I headed toward the spare room behind the television in the living room—the one that connected to the heat house.
Much to my surprise, someone had locked the door from the inside. It was locked when one of us stayed in the heat house—that way if the kids were goofing off, they wouldn’t accidentally head down there when a couple might be in the throes of passion. We normally kept the key above the door for the mate when he wanted to pay a visit.
I stood on my tiptoes and ran my hand over the top of the doorframe. “Why did you take the key?” I whispered.
“Looking for something?”
I whirled around, clutching my heart.
Wheeler folded his arms, a smug grin on his face. He ambled forward and lowered his bearded chin, giving me a pensive stare.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“You’re the nosiest woman I’ve ever met. Maybe they need privacy.”
“In the heat house?”
Wheeler snorted and leaned against the wall. “Why not? Three attractive men… alone…”
I pushed at his chest. “Cut it out. You can either go back upstairs and gnaw on some jerky, or you can help me out.”
Wheeler reached in his back pocket and retrieved a slim instrument from his wallet. “Move aside, sweetheart. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He slipped one end into the keyhole and worked on it for a second. When he turned his wrist, the lock clicked.
“You’re the man,” I said in a singsong voice, patting his back.
“I get that a lot from Naya.” He rose to his feet and tucked the instrument back into his wallet. “Don’t tell Austin I aided and abetted, or my ass is in the doghouse.”
“No problemo,” I assured him, drifting into the room and closing the door behind me.
Drenched in darkness, I tiptoed to the right with my arms extended until I felt the door that led to the adjoining hallway. First, I removed my boots. Then I peered into the hall to make sure the opposite door wasn’t open. There were no windows, and tiny track lights were reminiscent of a hotel.
Harsh words barked out from behind the far door, drawing me closer. My feet moved across the floor soundlessly, and just when I reached the middle, the opposite door swung open.
Busted.
Austin’s stormy expression didn’t peeve me as much as the fact that he didn’t seem surprised to find me standing there.
“Out,” he ordered.
I put my hands on my hips. “Don’t you dare snap orders at me. I came to see if your guests were still around so I’d know how long to keep the pack upstairs.”
His sexy brows arched, but the only look he flashed me was irritation. “And you decided to pick the lock?”
My attention dragged downward. “Why are you barefoot with no shirt on?”
He opened his mouth but didn’t get a word out.
“And how did you know I was in the hall? I was in stealth mode.”
Lorenzo appeared on his right and whispered something.
He also wasn’t wearing a shirt.
I glowered. “Are you guys doing what I think you’re doing in there?”
Lorenzo’s gaze snapped up, and he howled with laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye and then moved out of sight.
Austin’s shoulders sagged. “Come on, Lexi. But this is confidential.”
He leaned on the doorjamb, and I sauntered toward him, a little mystified as to all the secrecy but slightly distracted by how handsome he was without a shirt. Austin was a man’s man. It was the total package—his tattoos, confidence, physique, and the way he always looked at me as if he was thinking naughty things.
Damn, that lean.
When I peered into the room, Austin whispered, “This is top secret, Ladybug.”
My eyes lifted to meet his gaze. “You can trust me.”
He nodded, assuring me he already did.
The heat in the room overwhelmed me, as did the foul stench of body odor and sweat. I wrinkled my nose and blinked in surprise at a familiar face. “Atticus?”
His expression grew stony, and he turned to face a painting of wolves. He must have been the one who’d alerted them I was in the hall.
Atticus Rain was always affable when he frequented my shop, but I wondered how friendly he really was when I saw the drops of blood spattered on the floor next to the body of a nude, filthy man.
My eyes fixed on the garment draped over the rogue’s waist. “Who put my good blanket on his dirty crotch?”
Austin briefly turned his back to me and murmured to Prince, “Told you.”
“What does the bitch want?” the man grumbled, his lip cut and swollen.