Publicly Exhibited [Werewolves of Hanson Mall 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Cara Adams Page A

think you two women could make a real difference in our studies and help us move on to collating the data and finding some answers. Or at least knowing better ways of looking for answers,” said Cadfael.
    It was time for them to go. Everyone was much too tired and his alarm was going to ring before he’d even gotten to bed, the way things were going.
    Cadfael must have been thinking the same thing because he said to Eilidh, “Call in a substitute nurse for tomorrow and sleep as long as you need.”
    Rhion walked across to Willow and kissed her. “Thank you for tonight. You’re very special to me.”
    “And to me.” Cadfael kissed her, too, and then they left.
    The moment they were both in the hallway with the apartment door shut behind them, Cadfael said, “Right, come on up to my office. We need to get a plan of action organized for chasing down the information we need on Bailey. Bring your list of who you’ve already spoken to.”
    “Now?” All Rhion wanted to do was sleep.
    “Of course now. We need to be organized by six at the latest so we can wake them up and get them all moving.” Cadfael opened the stair door. “Come on. A bit of exercise will get those blood cells moving in your brain.”
    “What brain? It turned into mush about three hours ago.” Nevertheless, Rhion followed Cadfael up the stairs. Fucking hell.
     
    * * * *
     
    By ten o’clock Cadfael was exhausted and the adrenaline that had been keeping him going, along with a hell of a lot of Rhion’s top quality black coffee, had lost its magical power. The days when he could fuck all night and work all day were obviously long gone. “Thirty-five isn’t the new twenty-five no matter what anyone says,” he said to Rhion, standing up and stretching his aching back.
    “No kidding. I feel like shit,” said Rhion.
    Cadfael looked at his best friend and second-in-command. His hair was a mess, he badly needed a shave, and his eyes had big black patches underneath them. “You look like shit, too.”
    “Thank you for that kind word. Try looking in a mirror.”
    Cadfael rubbed his hand over his jaw. “A shave would be good.”
    “Eight hours sleep would be better.”
    “Yeah, yeah, so what have we got?”
    “A vast number of people who’ve promised us answers by close of business today. But I reckon our best bet would be asking Hawthorne and Willow to go through Bailey’s Facebook friends list again, only this time they track everyone down. Not just to read what they say in their profile, but to Google them and see if the women can find out about the psychiatrist that way. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only unexplored path we have right now. And remember the psychiatrist might be female.”
    Cadfael looked at Rhion. The man might look like hell but his brain cells weren’t quite dead yet. “That’s a smart idea. I like it. Do it, then we can both go to bed. Set your alarm for four though so we can go through the answers we’ll have gotten back by then.”
    “Almost six hours’ sleep. That sounds delightful.”
    Of course it wasn’t six hours’ sleep by the time he showered, shaved, and checked to make sure no urgent e-mails had come in while he was preoccupied with chasing Hamilton, but it was still delightful. Very delightful. Fuck, he was tired. And way, way, way too old to be pulling all nighters.
    Back in his office he started checking the responses he’d received, most of them with “Sorry it took a while” apologies attached. “Yeah, if I hadn’t squealed, I’d still be waiting for a reply.” But that’s the way the world worked. There was always something more important to do. Well, this was the most important thing in his life right now.
    About ten minutes later Rhion tapped on his office door, his laptop under his arm. He was clean shaven, his eyes were sparkling again although they still had a hint of shadow under them, and his hair was still wet from his shower.
    “You look much better,” said Cadfael.
    “I