The wolf waved him in with his hand before covering the mouthpiece of the phone he had to his ear with his fingers. “Give me a moment, Mace. I’m ordering meat.”
Okay. “No problem.”
“No,” Van Holtz said into his phone. “I’ll need more sea lion than that. Do you have the steaks?” He pointed down the hallway. “Go on into the living room. I won’t be long.”
Mace walked down the hallway and into the living room, stopping short right at the entrance when he spotted Dee-Ann Smith sitting on the floor in cutoff shorts and a tank top, cleaning her guns. He knew Dee-Ann worked for Van Holtz and the Group but . . . she seemed awfully comfortable.
“Dee-Ann?”
“Hey, Mace,” she said, not looking up from methodically using a chamber brush to clean the barrel of a .45.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning my guns.”
Mace had forgotten that he was dealing with Dee-Ann. One of the more literal females he’d known over the years. “I mean, what are you doing in Ulrich Van Holtz’s apartment?”
“Cleaning my guns.”
At that point he decided to let it go. It took too much energy to care.
“Watcha got there, Llewellyn?” Dee-Ann asked, squinting up at Marcus and smiling.
“A spoiled brat who clearly needs more time around males. Or you know . . . you.”
Dee chuckled and got to her feet, wiping her hands off on a cloth. “How would this spoiled brat like some ice cream?”
Marcus hissed at Mace and swatted at him, trying to get him to let go. “Stop doing that!”
“You male cats. Ornery ain’t even the word for it.” She took Marcus from Mace. “Come on, handsome. Let’s get you some fancy, overpriced ice cream.” She walked out of the room as Van Holtz walked in.
“I’ll have you know, Miss Smith, that gelato is superb.”
“Overpriced!” she shot back.
Van Holtz motioned for Mace to sit on one of the couches, but he stopped when he walked around them, seeing the pile of guns spread out on a rather thin cloth laid over his rug.
“Isn’t that the rug you picked up at the charity auction a couple of years ago?” Mace asked.
“Yes.”
“The one for six figures?”
“It’s a one-of-kind original from the eighteenth century.”
“Then you definitely want gun oil on it.”
“I’d yell and throw my hands up dramatically, but she’ll just tell me I paid too much.”
Mace sat down on a couch. “My sister.”
Van Holtz nodded and sat across from him. “Nothing’s been decided yet.”
“You can’t believe my sister had anything to do with this. This is Missy Llewellyn we’re talking about.”
“I made sure to point that out. And I can assure you that we’re going to investigate this thoroughly before we make any final decisions.” Van Holtz leaned back on the couch, raising his foot and resting it on the opposite knee. Mace didn’t think he’d ever seen the rich wolf looking so casual except when he was cooking. Worn jeans, bare feet, and a Cathedral High School Lacrosse T-shirt. They’d gone to the same school, although Mace had been a few years ahead of him. He remembered Van Holtz’s older brother, though. What an asshole that guy was, and he hadn’t changed much. But they didn’t seem alike at all.
“Just promise me you won’t . . . do anything until you talk to me.”
“If she’s done this, Mace—”
“She hasn’t. But if she’s caught up in it somehow—just talk to me. My sister is a lot of things, but she’s my sister. Understand?”
“I do. And you are married to one of our top people on the case.”
Mace gave a little snort. “Considering how well they got along in school . . . you better be the one to give me a heads-up.”
“I will. I’ll also ask that you not discuss this with the other members of your Pride.”
“They’re not my Pride. Haven’t been since I turned eighteen and refused to be bartered off like cheap garbage. But Missy is still blood. She’s still Marcus’s aunt. I can’t forget that.”
“I won’t either. You have my word.”
“Thanks.” Mace got to his feet and walked into the hallway, where Dee-Ann and Marcus almost collided with him. He gazed at the pair and finally asked, “Was there a problem?”
Dee-Ann shook her head. “No. Why?”
“No reason.” He took his son, making sure to keep the child’s face far away from him since he didn’t want to be covered in chocolate gelato the way Dee was. The kid had to be the sloppiest eater on the planet and yet every female, including Desiree, let him get away with it.
Mace took the cone Marcus held—ignoring the way his son latched on to his arm like it was a chicken bone, tiny teeth trying to dig into human flesh—and headed to the door.
“Have a good weekend,” Van Holtz told him.
“You, too.” The door closed behind him and Mace headed to the elevator. Once inside, he held the cone up for his son so he would unleash his hold on him and lick the cone instead.
“I don’t know what allure you have for women,” Mace told the little brat, “but I’m guessing it has a lot to do with the minimane you’ve got going on.”
“Cute kid,” Dee-Ann told Ric when the door closed. “I like the hair.”
“He likes you.”
“I’m guessing that like his father, he likes anything with tits.”
Ric stepped closer and licked the melted chocolate gelato off Dee-Ann’s nose. “Yum.”
“Was Mace here about Missy?”
“Of course. She’s his sister.”
“True, but she doesn’t deserve it. Don’t even think she wrote him when he was stationed overseas and he spent most holidays in Smithtown with Bobby Ray.”
“It’s still his sister and that’s all that matters to him.” Ric slipped his arm around her waist. “Are you packed?”
“Packed?”
“For the weekend away. You’re still coming?”
“Not much choice now that everyone in the New York Pack is coming. They all want to see your house.”
“I got the list from Jess. I had to up my zebra and gazelle meat since the lion males are coming as well. But you’re still coming, aren’t you?”
“If you’re still sure.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Sissy and Ronnie are going to be there. They’ll see us together. Trust me when I say records will be broken gettin’ that information back to Tennessee.”
“So?”
She petted his cheek. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
“You know, your father might actually like me.”
And Ric tried not to take it personally when she burst out laughing and went back to cleaning her guns on his expensive, eighteenth-century rug.
CHAPTER 22
“So what do you think?” Ric asked her.
Studying Ric’s “recent purchase,” Dee could only say, “Seems more a . . . resort than a house.”
“Why would you say that? Because of the guest houses?”
“And the multiple tennis courts, the nearby lake. All you’re missing is a gift shop and one of your restaurants.”
“It’s a Pack house. Where a large number of wolves can relax and enjoy a weekend away from the bustling city. Or, as in our case, a large number of random shifters who should probably never be in the same place at the same time, getting on each other’s nerves for an entire weekend until someone ends up mauled and whining.”
To prove that point, MacRyrie lumbered up to them, the grizzly grinning. “This place is great, Ric.”
“Thanks.”
“I brought you a house-warming gift.”