“And your point?”
“My point is that you have a problem. Because someone is using your name and, more importantly, your bank account to fund this little operation.”
“That’s impossible, Mason. You know how I am about my money. And because this Pride belongs to me, it’s all my money. There is no way that I would not notice if . . .”
When she stopped speaking, Mace moved closer to her desk. “What?”
Missy shook her head, refusing to believe that what she was thinking could remotely be possible. “Nothing.”
“Like hell it’s nothing . . . what?”
“No . . . it’s . . . it can’t . . . it’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible? Talk to me, Missy.”
“No. We will not discuss this further.”
“You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in.”
“What do you mean?”
“If it’s proven that you’re involved in this, one night you’re going to go to sleep and you won’t wake up again.”
Missy sat up straight in her chair. “And you’d allow them to do that to me? Your own sister?”
“No. But the people who handle this sort of thing know how to bypass people like me and Smitty. So if you know something, you need to tell me. Now.”
“There’s only one other person who has unlimited access to Pride accounts. All Pride accounts.”
He briefly closed his eyes. “Please don’t tell me it’s Allie or Serita.” Their younger sisters.
“No, no. Of course not. Like me, they’re much too lazy to do such a thing. But . . .” She swallowed.
“Who?” Mason pushed. “Spit it out already.”
“Our grandmother. As former head of the Pride, she has complete access and unlimited usage of all our funds.”
Mason dropped into the chair across from her. “Oh, my God.”
“This can’t be right, though, Mason. It can’t. It’s our grandmother. Matilda Llewellyn. Blue blood, actively involved in some of the most prestigious local charities, on the Getty and MOMA board of directors—”
“And one-time Nazi supporter!”
“That was never proven!”
They stared at each other again and then burst out simultaneously, “Oh, my God!”
“Okay, okay,” Mason said. “We can’t panic.”
“But what are we going to do?”
“What can we do if she’s involved in this?”
“Mason, she’s our grandmother.”
“And a sociopath!”
Missy pressed her hand to her mouth. “Could she really?” she asked around her fingers. “Would she really?”
“I don’t know.”
They were silent for several minutes until Missy finally said, “Do whatever you have to, Mason. I will not be a party to this.”
He let out a relieved sigh. “The first sensible thing you’ve said in quite a while.”
“Well, of course. I can’t allow the taint of our grandmother’s involvement in the wiping out of those genetic misdeeds bring down the Llewellyn Pride name if it gets out what that old sow has been up to.”
Mason threw up his hands. “Oh! Well as long as we have our fuckin’ priorities straight!”
“Don’t you dare curse at me, you motherfucker!”
CHAPTER 28
Ric found Dee by the lake on his cousin’s territory. She’d taken down a small deer, but she’d only gnawed on the remains a bit. She’d had a big early dinner cooked to perfection by Uncle Van, who seemed to feel the need to prove something, but Ric knew Dee wouldn’t miss the chance to do a little free-range hunting. She could have hunted with the Pack, Ric’s presence ensuring she’d be accepted at least for the few hours they planned to stay, but that wasn’t something she wanted to do. Like her father, Dee enjoyed hunting alone.
He dropped to the ground near her and waited. She lifted her head from her snack, tongue hanging out, blood covering her muzzle.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, constantly entertained by this woman. There was just something about her. And Aunt Irene liked her! Aunt Irene didn’t like anyone. It was like evidence of God or something!
Dee rolled to her back, paws in the air, her wolf grin wide. Ric laughed and watched her roll back over and make a sloppy leap into the lake. She came out, shook off her coat, and trotted up to him. But by the time she sat down at his side, she was human again.
Ric took his sweatshirt off and helped Dee put it on. Even in July, the evenings were still cool in Washington state.
“That felt so good,” she sighed, snuggling up next to him.
“You don’t get to hunt enough.”
“There are few who’d say that.”
“This kind of hunting, I mean.” He studied her. “You’re glowing, Dee-Ann.”
“Am I?” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe I am.”
Ric took her hand in his. “Talked to Van.”
“And?”
“He wasn’t too crazy about the idea of letting my father off to move to Colorado.”
“Neither am I.” She squeezed his hand. “But I do understand it.”
Ric cleared his throat. “He also wanted me to take over as Alpha.”
“And you said no.”
“I don’t want to be Alpha, Dee.”
“That’s your choice. It’s gotta be something you really want ’cause there will be a whole lot of kin more than happy to snatch it away from you if you don’t.”
“He was disappointed, though.”
“I’m sure, but he’ll understand. You gotta do what’s right for you. Being a chef, playing hockey, aligning yourself with the strangest people—that’s what gets you up in the morning. You take the Alpha position just because it’ll make your cousin happy and you won’t hold it for six months. And it’s hard coming back from that, darlin’. Even with family.”
“I know. Still, it was hard to tell a man I love so much ‘no.’ ”
“But he respects you as much as he does because you have your own mind and do what’s right for you, what’s right for your Pack, your friends, and the Group. Don’t doubt that now because you didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.”
“What about you?” Ric asked.
“What about me?”
“Are you disappointed?” Many She-wolves grew up dreaming that their mates would be Alphas one day. But since he and Dee-Ann had never discussed it before, Ric didn’t know if that had once been her dream, too.
“Do you think I want to be an Alpha?” Dee was an Alpha; she just didn’t run a Pack.
“Your view never changes if you’re not head of the line.”
“We’re using quotes from T-shirts now?”
“When you include the visual of sled dogs . . . it works for this instance.”
She laughed, shook her head. “You can’t be Alpha when everybody’s damn near terrified of you. Not respectfully scared, mind, but terrified. Besides . . . I just don’t care. I care about me and mine. Anything else is merely a reason to ‘Start the killin’.’ ”
“Does your father have any other sayings?”
“None I like as much.”
Ric laughed, kissed her cheek. It had taken a lot out of her not to loudly thank the Good Lord that Ric didn’t take that Alpha position. There was always so much bullshit to worry about when you ran a Pack and Dee liked being the one called in when there was trouble, but otherwise was left alone to do what she liked to do. It was a relief to find out that Ric definitely had the same philosophy because he could very well be Alpha of the Van Holtz Pack—if that was what he wanted. He was wicked smart, excessively charming, and wily. Damn wily. And, of course, ruthless when he had to be.
She really liked the ruthless side of him.