“I’m afraid not,” said Lainie hesitantly. “I’m not even sure who most of you are, actually…?”
Mrs. Sweets gave her tinkly laugh. “Oh, dear, I don’t expect you to remember us!” She went on, breezily failing to introduce anyone. “Now, dear. We were all so distressed to hear of your grandmother’s passing. She and your grandfather were such good people. Truly pillars of the community here in little Hideaway Cove. He was Mayor, once, you know, such a good man. We are all simply dying to know—what are you planning to do with your inheritance?”
She slipped the question in like a needle. Harrison squeezed Lainie’s shoulder reassuringly.
“My inheritance?” Lainie’s voice was flat.
“The house, dear, on Lighthouse Hill. I understand you went up there this morning with our dear Harrison?”
What would she say if Lainie announced she was going to move in? Harrison thought suddenly. He felt uneasy. Lainie was human. No one knew she was his mate yet—or not for sure, anyway. He was sure there were rumors. But nothing confirmed.
He hadn’t even told her.
What would the town council say to a human wanting to move to the shifter sanctuary of Hideaway Cove, even if she was related to an ex-inhabitant of the town?
“Yes, we did a brief inspection. There’s not much left to see,” Lainie said. “It’s strange; I know my grandmother hired someone local to maintain the house after she moved into assisted living, but the place doesn’t appear to hav
e been looked after at all. Despite the number of housekeeping invoices that have landed in my lap since the will was read.”
Harrison glanced around the table. One of Mrs. Sweets’ cronies, a plover shifter called Sharon Walbol, flushed red.
He looked down at Lainie. She sounded cool, but her smile was half-frozen on her face. He realized just how much of a strain this gauntlet was for her.
“What is it you wanted to say to Lainie, exactly?” he demanded.
Mrs. Sweets raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows at him.
“All in good time, dear.”
Beside her, Mr. Sweets roused himself at last. He was of the same vintage as his wife, but whereas she held herself ramrod-straight and kept her eyes on everyone in the room, Mr. Sweets’ bones seemed loose within his skin. And he never looked at anyone, even when he was speaking to them. As acting mayor of Hideaway Cove, he mostly played possum.
“Seventy-five thou,” he huffed, and apparently went back to sleep.
Beside Harrison, Lainie almost jumped out of her chair. “What?” she yelped.
Mrs. Sweets kept her cool, and her prehistoric smile. “My dear, surely you understand? A… city girl like you can’t possibly want to relocate to a small town like ours. And as you’ve no doubt already discovered, our town doesn’t have any real estate services. We thought it would be much easier to arrange a private sale.”
“A private sale?” Lainie relaxed back in her chair, but her eyes were still flicking suspiciously around the table. “With half the town here?” she added in an undertone to Harrison.
Harrison took in the tense angle of her shoulders. “I know it’s a bit weird, but you were planning to sell anyway, weren’t you?”
A murmur went around the table, and Harrison cursed silently. He’d barely whispered the words—but in a room full of shifters with acute hearing, he might as well have shouted.
Mrs. Sweets’ smile became, if possible, even toothier. Hairs went up on the back of Harrison’s neck.
“You’re planning on selling the property? Well, that does seem to solve all our problems. If you will have your lawyer send the paperwork to me directly—”
“No.” Lainie’s voice was quiet, but firm. “No, that isn’t going to work. I’m sorry.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Sweets’ hand flew to her pearls. Her smile disappeared, and the change in the old lady’s appearance was chilling. Her smile might have been predatory, but at least it was a smile; without it, she looked like a death’s head.
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear, my dear,” she purred. “I realize you have family connections in Hideaway Cove, but it is impossible that you should move here. It will not be tolerated. Really, girl, not even your grandparents wanted you here after you proved such a disappointment—why would you think things would be any different now?”
“How dare you speak to her like that,” Harrison growled, his free hand forming a fist at his side. Inside him, his griffin screeched in anger. He and it were in perfect accord: eagle, lion and human, all united in protective rage. “Lainie Eaves is my—”
“Don’t worry.” Lainie’s voice cut in under his, dripping with bitterness. “Nothing in the world could entice me to move into that broken-down old house. I’m going to sell, and leave this place behind me—but I’m sure as hell not going to part with the property for such a low sum. Seventy-five thousand dollars? That’s insulting. It wouldn’t buy the lighthouse, let alone the rest of the land!”
She stood up, shrugging off Harrison’s hand. This close, Harrison could see she was trembling. Would anybody else be able to tell? Or would they just see her anger, and not her tears?