Make Me Howl (6 page)

Beatrice gave him a nudge. “Stop teasing. You’ll give them an inferiority complex.”

Sam brushed a non-existent wrinkle from his own lapel. “After growing up around a father like me, if they don’t have one now, they never will. Besides, you know a Holliday’s never felt inferior in his life. Especially these two.”

Clearly bored with her husband’s rambling, Beatrice turned to the door. “Which car are we taking, dear?”

“How about the Hummer?” After her nod, he glanced at his two sons. “One of you want to drive? We’re going to ride in back…where we can snuggle.”

When Beatrice swatted Sam’s shoulder, Spence chuckled. “I’ll drive, Dad. I imagine Chase will need to go over his speech on the way.”

After walking to the multi-car garage, they climbed into the Humvee. As they drove toward the park, Beatrice and Sam chatted together in low voices, leaving Spence free to irritate Chase as he drove. “So tell me more about this mystery woman. What’s she like?”

Chase shook his head, wishing he’d never mentioned her. “You all are making too big a deal out of a passing remark. She’s just a woman, who happens to be the sister of one of my co-workers. Nothing special.” Not just a serious misdirection; that was a downright lie. He just hoped he wouldn’t get struck dead for it.

Spence gave a sharp laugh. “Nothing special? Right. Must be why you bought a new tux for tonight. Or got your hair cut for the first time in a couple of months.”

Chase wished he’d driven by himself. At least he wouldn’t have to go through the third degree. “I got a haircut because I
hadn’t
had one in a couple of months—”

“You were beginning to look like a shaggy dog,” his mother interrupted from the backseat.

“And I bought the tux because my other one was too old.”

“Funny you just noticed that after the Halloween party,” Spence murmured with a sidelong glance.

“I hadn’t thought of it until after the party.”

Sam leaned forward and patted Chase’s shoulder. “Don’t mind them, son. I know it’s hard for you.”

Chase gritted his teeth. “What do you mean, hard for me?”

Sam shrugged. “I mean you’re focused on your job, is all. You don’t have time to think about much outside the clinic, or your research.”

What else is there? he wanted to ask but thought better of it. No use upsetting his mother by talking about his view on life. He had the feeling his father had harbored the same outlook for most of his existence. Why else would he have spent so much time either working or thinking about working? If Sam had enjoyed living as his two youngest sons did, he would have spent more time doing it rather than increasing his earning capacity.

When they arrived at the park, Spence delivered them to the door of the multi-purpose building then parked the car. As they walked inside, the first person Chase saw was Jazzy, seated at the head table next to Bella. Then he noticed his little brothers, who’d taken the adjacent chairs so the women were bracketed.

Mack had his arm along the back of Jazzy’s chair, practically sitting in her lap, while Drew gazed at Bella, looking as if he’d been kicked in the head by an elephant.

Knowing his brothers as he did, Chase realized they weren’t above switching place cards in order to sit by the women of their choice.

He’d put up with their tricks all their lives. They’d pushed, finagled, tormented and bullied until they’d always gotten what they wanted. Well, not tonight. It was time he put his foot down.

Stiff with annoyance, he marched past the attendants at the door without a second glance. Approaching the table, he caught a small wave from Bella, but Jazzy didn’t even look up from Mack’s line of bull. Couldn’t she see through his nonsense?

Irritation spiraling, he stormed to the table. Standing behind Mack, Chase doubled his fist and nudged his brother with it—a little harder than he intended. “Move.”

Face filled with surprise, Mack jumped to his feet. “Hey, big brother. I was just chatting with—”

“I said move.” Chase kept his voice low.

Mack blinked a couple of times then tried, unsuccessfully, to find a smile. “Sure thing, Chase. I was just…” Unable to finish his explanation, Mack rubbed his bruised shoulder a couple of times as he moved away.

While Chase had been focused on Mack, Jazzy must have gotten out of her chair. When he saw her, long and sleek in a shiny red dress with a deep vee neck and a slit up the leg, he forgot how to breathe.

“Hello.” Her eyes glistened with unvoiced laughter. Her hair was shades of gold that warmed to not quite chocolate, making her look as if she’d spent her summer playing under the sun. Standing there as she was—so damned feminine and just plain hot—he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to speak past the huge boulder blocking his throat.

“Hi,” he croaked. “I hope my brother wasn’t bothering you too much.”

She gazed at him for a moment, her brows raised as if she had trouble understanding his words. “Oh, no. Your brother was doing me a favor. That weird guy from the other night, the one who said he feeds the animals, kept trying to get me to move to his table. Mack sat here with me to keep him away.”

He forced himself to stop thinking about the way she looked long enough to remember. “Norman Briderson? Is he here tonight?”

Jazzy glanced pointedly toward the back. Following her direction, he saw Norman, sitting next to a young woman talking earnestly. “Well, he seems occupied for now. If he bothers you again, though, don’t hesitate to report him to the zoo administration.”

She nodded then looked past him to his parents. He introduced them and, while they chatted for a moment, he checked out the seating arrangements.

His seat was actually on the other side of Bella, where Drew sat. His father’s place card sat on the other side of Jazzy. Not bothering to look around, he rearranged the seating to his own satisfaction.

Just let someone say something about it. Anything at all.

Chapter Three

When they were finally all seated, he smiled at Jazzy. “You look gorgeous, Gypsy Dancer.”

She smiled, confident. “Not too shabby yourself, Doc. But I miss your holster and six shooter.”

The tension that had been growing along his shoulders vanished as he chuckled. “My mother always taught us boys not to take our revolvers to the table.”

“Your mother’s nice.”

He glanced to where his parents were chatting with another couple. “I think so, too. “

Jazzy tossed her head, sending her hair swirling around her shoulders. “We had a nice chat over coffee the other night.”

He took a deep breath, trying to catch the fragrance of her hair. Had it been fixed like that at the party? He didn’t remember it being that long. Ready for a little hands on—

Her words registered. “You had coffee the other night? With my mother? When?”

“A few nights after the Halloween party.” Jazzy’s smile broadened. “She came to a fashion show I narrated then invited me out for coffee. I really like her.”

Chase slid a glance toward his mother as he held Jazzy’s chair for her. How in the world had she known? With a light chuckle, he shook his head. The woman had radar when it came to her children. That was the only answer.

“What?” Jazzy asked as she lifted her gaze to his.

Again he shook his head. “I didn’t say that much about you. Any time I go to that type of function, she always asks if I’ve met any interesting women. I do my best to describe one or two to her so she won’t worry about me.”

Jazzy’s eyes sparkled as she laughed. “And I was the only one you met before you were called away?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, trying not to look like too much of a loser. “I must have gone a little overboard, describing your costume. Or something. I didn’t want her to think I was totally oblivious.”

He glanced up with a scowl as Mack and Drew all but attacked the chairs directly across from them. “What are you two idiots doing?”

Drew blew him off with a typical laugh while he sat, but Mack planted an elbow on the table, rolled his eyes and leaned toward Jazzy. “He’s such an old man—has been since we were kids. If you want, I can move your place card so you’re over here, between the two sexy brothers in this family.”

Almost before he’d finished speaking, they heard a squawk. Carrie Everson, assistant to Judge Parker, the park administrator, rushed toward them. Wearing a dress that even Chase knew was years out of date, she propped her fists on her hips.

Her brown hair was pulled back by a clamp that sparkled as if it were covered with of every ounce of glitter from a Sunday school craft box. The hard shine of the clamp made her coloring even muddier, and with her hair skinned back, the length of her thin face was more apparent than usual. Her laugh, especially when near the judge, sounded like a neighing horse.

Wildly she flapped her hands in the air. “Have y’all lost your minds?”

What was she talking about?

When no one answered, she rammed her fists to her hips again. “You’re not supposed to sit there—the Honorable Dora Hanson is.” She bobbed the entire top half of her body toward Drew, whose mouth tightened and eyes widened in an effort not to laugh.

She stretched her already too long neck to look over him at Mack. “And Mrs. Hanson’s escort is supposed to sit there.”

Then she glanced at Chase’s side of the table and her mouth dropped. “You’re all messed up. Bella is the only one sitting where she’s supposed to. Chase, you should be next to her, and…and…”

Clearly too exasperated for words, she opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally she got a grip then made the mistake of stomping closer to Mack. “Move.”

****

I set down my glass of water when a woman started making a huge fuss about seating arrangements. Didn’t she know how stupid she looked doing that chicken imitation? And what an ass she was making of herself? After all, we’d paid a hundred dollars a plate to be there, with the possible exception of Dora Hanson and her escort, who were invited guests. What difference did it make where anyone sat?

Mack looked up at the woman and simply answered, “No.”

I almost burst my Spanx Power Panties right down the side.

Everything on the woman’s face opened—her eyes, her mouth, even her nostrils flared as far as they could. After a moment she regained control over her facial features, which would have looked better on a Shetland pony.

She started stomping her feet, first one then the other. If she hadn’t been dressed like something out of my college fashion history book, I might have been able to keep my amazement hidden. But she had on a full length pastel yellow shirtwaist dress with a self-belt, printed with long cords, keys and locks, and a box pleated skirt. No kidding—a box pleated skirt!

She must have had the turnout heavily starched just that morning, because as she marched, very little moved. Oh, the skirt swung with her, but the pleats barely expanded.

Then Mack did the unthinkable. He caught her by the wrist and tilted her onto his lap.

That’s when I lost it. And when I lost it, so did Chase, Bella and the rest of the table—even Dora Hanson, who’d taken a seat across from Doc’s parents.

The way the woman sputtered, you’d never have guessed she just been given one of the best seats in the house.

After extricating herself from his lap, she glared at him for a moment. Then seeing someone across the room, she threw her hand into the air and took off in that direction.

I sobered long enough to ask Doc, “Who’s that guy, hiding behind the white mustache?”

“That’s Judge Parker, administrator here at the zoo. He’ll calm Carrie down.”

“Judge
Roy
Parker?” I gasped playfully. “The hanging judge?”

With a half grin, he shook his head. “You’re thinking of Judge Roy
Bean
, down about Langtry, Texas. Judge Parker was the hanging judge, but he lived in Arkansas and his name was Isaac. “

I thought for a moment. “And what’s your judge Parker’s first name?”

His grin grew wider. “Judge.”

“What are you?” I asked, trying my best to sound sweet, which I
never
am. “Some kind of history buff as well as a veterinarian and geneticist?”

“Are you kidding? I almost failed history in school.” He slid down a bit in his chair. “I wondered the same thing you did, so I Googled him.”

Charmed by his wit, I had to remind myself he was a werewolf killer. How much did a man have to hate a species to dedicate his entire life to wiping it out? What could have happened to make him hate us so? A fang scarred girlfriend sometime in the past? A brush with one himself?

As if drawn by an invisible thread, Carrie followed the zoo administrator as he moved to the podium. He leaned toward the microphone until it squealed. “I’d like to thank y’all for comin’,” he said with a low-country drawl—the type that’s usually embellished. “
Your
support is what’s gonna make Safari Land a success. And I know it will be.”

He turned to the bird dancing woman, and spoke in her ear. Face flaming so red I thought it might explode, Carrie all but flew out of the room.

Judge Parker smiled affably at the crowd. “Just a little mix up there. Carrie will be right back, I’m sure.”

My mind wandered back to Doc and his research. How close was he to success? I could ask, but if I was too interested, he’d want to know why. He might even decide to do a little one-on-one eradicating. And I wasn’t nearly ready to take the taxi to that big shopping mall in the sky.