CHAPTER 13
Sunsday, Messis 14
As the Owlgard headed home and the rest of the gards still slept, their footsteps filled the Market Square with an odd, and frustrated, silence.
They couldn’t find the scent of tasty Wolf cookies anywhere except the working den of the howling not-Wolf. There were interesting scents in the Harvester’s working den, especially during the day when so many terra indigene and humans hurried and scurried in and out of the cluster of buildings. And then the scents, so fresh and strong, disappeared—the food consumed.
They were strong, and their claws could open doors so easily, but the Wolfgard and the Sanguinati were already unhappy about their insistence on keeping the insignificant human predator close by. If they broke into the working dens of the Harvester and the not-Wolf to look for the tasty or some other treat, the smaller shifters would be angry. So would the Harvester. And the not-Wolf? If she became frightened, she might abandon the working den—and enough smaller shifters, if willing to sacrifice many, could seriously wound an Elder. And the Harvester working with them would do the rest.
They continued to prowl around the cluster of buildings, finally ending up at the back door of the not-Wolf’s working den. How did the not-Wolf know when to supply the tasty for the Wolves? How did the not-Wolf know what to bring to the smaller shifters when she got into her box and did the baby-bunny scoot around the Courtyard?
They went to the building across the access way from the not-Wolf’s working den. The male yanked on the door, snapping the locks. While he went inside and selected paper and a writing stick, the female went hunting for something they could leave in exchange.
Exchange, after all, was different from taking. Taking was bad, but exchange was something humans did.
As he drove them to work, Simon kept glancing at Meg. She’d been broody last night, despite watching the Wolf Team movies with him and Sam, and it seemed that mood hadn’t changed.
“Is your lip bothering you?” It looked sore, and he wanted to take care of her by licking it—something he knew he shouldn’t do.
“It hurts, but not too bad.” She huffed. “You have to talk to Skippy. He can’t keep pushing at people’s feet to get them to corral his dish when he eats ice cream.”
“He wasn’t pushing at people; he was arranging your feet to hold his dish.”
“Well, I’m a people!”
“But you’re the one who taught him to do that.”
She sputtered. “I didn’t think he would remember. He forgets everything else.”
“Not everything. Skippy remembers what’s important to Skippy.” He looked at her and laughed. “You’re wearing your grumpy-pony face.”
“Ha-ha. You are so funny.”
He felt good. The cut on Sam’s face would heal just fine. There was a question about whether Meg’s lip would have a scar, but since it wasn’t a likely place for her to deliberately make a cut, he didn’t think it was a concern—unless it interfered with her ability to eat. In the wild country, an injury that prevented a Wolf from consuming food or water usually meant death.
But Meg had eaten scrambled eggs for dinner and had her ice cream in a bowl yesterday so that she wouldn’t have to bite into the cone. She might not be able to eat everything she wanted, but she wouldn’t grow weak while the wound healed. Simon pulled up behind the Liaison’s Office, then watched while Meg unlocked the back door and went inside. He parked the BOW in the garage and connected it to the power hookup to charge. As he headed for Howling Good Reads, he passed Chris Fallacaro, who had a bag of tools slung over one shoulder.
“Have to replace the lock on the Three Ps’ front door,” Chris said. “Lorne already talked to Mr. Sanguinati about it.”
The human smelled . . . odd. Not quite frightened but more than nervous.
Uneasy now, Simon hurried to the bookstore. But he glanced back at the Liaison’s Office and wondered if he should tell Meg to lock the back door.
Vlad stood behind the checkout counter, setting up the cash drawer in the register. “There was sort of a break-in at the Three Ps last night or early this morning.”
Simon scratched behind one ear. “Why? There’s nothing but paper and office supplies in there. And how do you have ‘sort of a break-in’?”
“Well, it’s ‘sort of’ because someone entered by destroying the locks on the door and then took some paper and maybe a marker or pen. Lorne isn’t sure how much is missing. He doesn’t think it’s much, and it was only the untidiness in a couple of places in the shop that helped him guess what was taken.”
“If it was taken, it’s theft,” Simon growled.
“Not when a woodchuck is left on the counter as a kind of payment.”
Simon looked at Vlad. Vlad looked at Simon.
“Oh,” Simon said. “Why would they want pens and paper?”
“When you find out, let me know.”
Meg opened the back door and scanned the surrounding area. Returning to the sorting room, she studied the scrap of paper that had been slipped under the door sometime before she’d arrived that morning.
want cukkies
“You may want cookies, but what you need are more spelling lessons,” she muttered. And there was something about the thick pencil strokes that made her think it was a demand, not a request.
Well, she knew what to do with a demand.
“Arroo?” Nathan queried from the front room.
“Nothing,” she replied as she crumpled the paper. Had Ruth met the teacher or teachers who taught in the Courtyard school? Maybe Henry knew who they were. She’d thought the terra indigene youngsters were learning some basic human lessons like reading and writing and arithmetic. Sam could spell better than this, and what puppy paying any kind of attention would misspell “cookies”?
She almost tossed the message into the recycling basket. Then she smoothed out the paper and looked at the message again. It was the first time anyone had left a request for cookies. Usually when a delivery arrived from Eamer’s Bakery, the Wolves were happy with whatever they received.
Still, giving in to demands would be a mistake. Yes, it would.
Meg picked up the phone and dialed the number for Eamer’s Bakery in Ferryman’s Landing. Just because she wouldn’t respond to a demand, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be ready to fulfill a request.
Jimmy sat out on the apartment’s porch, ignoring Sandee’s bitching and whining about the brats being stuck in the apartment without anything to do since the rest of the kids were in school and Clarence and Fanny couldn’t even hang out in the Market Square.
Maybe Sissy had the right idea—light out without saying a word. With five hundred dollars in his pocket, he could catch a train back to Toland or go to Shikago. Maybe even go to a human-controlled city in the Southeast Region. Shake off the bitch and the brats and start fresh.
But first he had to take care of his part of the plan.
Jack, who had been watching the Courtyard for a while now, told him that late morning was the time when everyone was beavering away at their jobs and that’s when there would be the fewest freaks in the Market Square. He just needed to push CJ into returning to the apartment building at the right time.
Jimmy looked at his wristwatch—and waited.
Something thumped the back door of the Liaison’s Office hard enough to startle a growl out of Nathan, who was in the front room, and had Pete Denby, in his office upstairs, hurrying toward the back of the building to check things out.
Meg opened the back door, then stepped on the scrap of paper that almost fluttered away. She picked it up.
want cukkies!
“Oh, you do, do you?”
Sure that whoever had left the paper was watching nearby, Meg stepped outside and shook her finger. “When someone makes a request for a treat, that person should say please. That’s the polite thing to do.”
She waited, sure that the puppies or juveniles who had left the paper would come slinking out of their hiding places with their heads down and their tails tucked. But there was nothing but an odd silence that made her feel strange.
Feeling uncertain but refusing to act like a scared bunny, she shook her finger again and shouted, “You are being bad puppies!”
“Meg?”
She looked up at Pete, who stood on the upstairs landing. “Just setting boundaries,” she said, going back inside.
Nathan was in the back room waiting for her. As soon as she crossed the threshold, he sniffed her. When he sniffed the paper in her hand, he pushed her farther into the room, then hit the door with both front paws, slamming it shut.
“Nathan . . .”
He herded her into the sorting room and whacked that door shut before he shifted to human form.
The stunned look on his face stopped her from commenting about his being naked.
“Have you lost your mind?” He almost howled the words.
“Puppies need to learn manners,” she replied, annoyed by his tone. “Just because they want cookies doesn’t mean I’m going to run out and fetch a treat for them.”
“Puppies.” Nathan stared at her. “You think puppies left that note?”
“Well, who else . . . ?” She thought about the storm that had swept through Lakeside last month and how something had explored the Liaison’s Office, poking around in all the cupboards while a thick fog had blanketed the city. And she suddenly remembered what other form of terra indigene liked fresh-baked Wolf cookies. “Oh.”
Another thump shook the building.
“Stay here,” Nathan said. He slipped into the back room.
It felt like she’d waited a week, but she was pretty sure it was only a minute before he returned and handed her another scrap of paper.
want cukkies pleeze
Meg sucked in air, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath while she waited for Nathan.
“Meg,” Nathan whined, following her to the back room.
She opened the door and poked her head out. “The cookies will be here in a little while.” She paused, then added, “Arroo!”
Closing the door, she sank to the floor. Nathan, back in Wolf form, licked her face before slumping next to her. She burrowed her fingers into his fur and felt the tremors going through him.
“Guess I shouldn’t have scolded them, huh?” she said.
Nathan looked at her. “Roo.”
Meg pushed up from the floor when she heard someone calling her from the front room. “That’s the mailman. I’d better get to work.”
Vlad stared at Simon. “Meg told the Elders they were . . .”
“Bad puppies,” Simon finished. “Yeah.”
A minute passed before Vlad said, “Why?”
“They didn’t say ‘please’ when they asked for cookies.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Simon scratched behind an ear that was now Wolf-shaped and furry. “That’s okay. Meg said plenty for all of us.”
“CJ? It’s Jimmy. I need you back here. I got some things to say.”
“I’m working, Jimmy.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re always too busy for family.”
“Jimmy . . .”
“No, you just ride around and look important, and I’ll say what I have to say to Mama.”
A pause. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Jimmy hung up and smiled. He could always count on CJ. He just had to push the right button.
Meg shuddered. The pins-and-needles feeling filled one side of her neck. She dipped her hand into the pocket of her capris and pressed her fingers against the silver folding razor.
No. Not a neck cut. Too dangerous. Too many things could go wrong.
Leaving the razor in her pocket, she removed the box of prophecy cards from the drawer, opened the box, and rested her hands on the cards. She didn’t have a question, not even a vague subject. But her fingertips buzzed as she searched through the cards, selecting the three that created the strongest feeling.
She set them on the table in the order she’d picked them, then looked at the clock. She had a little time before the ponies arrived to deliver the mail around the Courtyard.
She turned the cards over. Then she called Howling Good Reads.
“Vlad? It’s Meg. I need to see Merri Lee for a few minutes. I’m fine. Just . . . puzzled.”
“What’s up?” Merri Lee said a minute later.
Meg pointed at the cards. The explosion card. A person pointing in one direction, but she’d placed the card upside down. And the last card, the result, was the hooded figure holding a scythe.
“That’s what I wanted you to see.” Meg indicated the second card. “Upside down. That’s never happened before.”
“Never? But the cards are all jumbled up in the box. Maybe you’ve turned them right side up without thinking about it, and this time you were distracted?”
She shook her head. “The decks have different backs, and I recognize the nature deck from the cityscape deck, so I keep my eyes closed when I’m selecting the cards. I’ve never revealed an upside-down card until now.”
“Then it means something.” Merri Lee frowned. “The figure would have been pointing toward death, but turned that way, it’s pointing to the explosion.”
“Neither is a good thing.”
“No, but . . .”
“Meg.” Henry’s face suddenly appeared at the sorting room’s window. “There is trouble. You girls stay inside.”
He turned toward his studio, so Meg and Merri Lee rushed to the front counter, where they could look out the office’s big windows. Being a Grizzly, Henry didn’t vault over the brick wall with a Wolf’s grace, but the wall wasn’t much of a barrier. He went up and over, then headed for Main Street, turning right when he reached the sidewalk.
Merri pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket. “Eve is across the street. She’ll be able to see what’s going on.”
Growling, Nathan took up a position in front of the glass door.
Meg retreated to the sorting room, followed by Merri.
“Eve says there’s an altercation between Lieutenant Montgomery and his brother. Some shoving and lots of shouting,” Merri Lee reported. “Karl’s there, but he’s dealing with Sandee. Eve’s not sure where Michael is. He could be at the station. Simon, Vlad, and Henry are heading across the street.”
Meg stared at the cards and whispered, “They’re going the wrong way.” Hurrying to the Private doorway, she shouted at Nathan, “Tell Simon he’s going the wrong way!”
The watch Wolf turned toward her, distracted. In that moment, Meg saw a blond-haired man run across the delivery area and head up the access way.
Simon leaped back to the sidewalk on the Courtyard side of Crowfield Avenue. He tried to grab Vlad’s arm, but the Sanguinati had changed to smoke and started to rise in order to flow across the street above the traffic. The attempted grab was enough to make Vlad stop, and it made Henry hesitate.
“Meg says . . .”
A female screamed.
Simon cocked his head toward the Market Square. He moved toward the customer parking lot, ignoring Montgomery’s fight with that Cyrus. He lengthened his stride to catch up to Henry, who was already turning into the parking lot.
The female screamed again, a sound full of hurt and fear.
Henry pushed open the wooden door leading to the employee parking lot, then stopped. The three of them stared at fog so thick they couldn’t see Henry’s hand when the Grizzly extended his arm.
Another scream, abruptly cut off. Male.
Then an odd and terrible silence filled the area around the Market Square.
Simon and Vlad backed away from the fog. Henry hesitated, then reached in and pulled the door closed before retreating.
That much settled, Simon turned to the next group.
“Mr. Wolfgard?” Ruth stood just inside the glass door that provided street-side access to the efficiency apartments above the seamstress/tailor’s shop.
“You and the pups stay inside,” Simon said at the same time Kowalski, who was across the street, shouted, “Ruthie, get back inside!”
“Wait!” Simon said. He and Vlad, who was still in smoke form, eased past Ruthie and rushed up the stairs, leaving Henry to nudge the female inside and guard the door. As they hurried to the back stairs that gave them access to the area behind Howling Good Reads and A Little Bite, Chris Fallacaro opened the door of his apartment and blinked at them.
“What’s going on?” Chris asked.
They didn’t answer him, but at least another human was accounted for. Nadine was in A Little Bite with Tess, and Eve Denby was across the street in her den. So that left . . .
Theral MacDonald alone in the medical office, since Emily Faire was visiting her family pack this morning and Elizabeth Bennefeld wasn’t scheduled to do any massages.
Vlad flowed partway out of the opening.
Simon hesitated.
If Jenni could see the pavement, the fog was dispersing in the Market Square too. Of course, that didn’t mean it was safe to go out.
Then he heard the clomp, clomp, clomp of pony feet and watched the ponies trot over to the side door of the Liaison’s Office and line up, waiting for Meg to fill their mail baskets.
Simon pulled off his clothes and shifted to Wolf.
Simon dashed down the stairs, with Vlad flowing beside him. In their pony form, the Elementals’ steeds were as vulnerable to teeth and claws—and bullets—as any other creatures. He didn’t think the ponies would have come for the mail and treats if the Elders were still in the Market Square.
Nathan met them at the archway into the square, and the three of them darted across the open space to the spot where Theral sat on the ground with Jenni crouched beside her.
“Jack,” Theral gasped. “It was Jack. He hit me. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t go with him. I still tried to get away. Then it got foggy and Jack screamed and was gone.”
Vlad shifted to human form and helped Theral stand. “You are hurt. Let’s go into the office. We’ll have a bodywalker come to help you.”
After giving Theral a polite sniff for that Jack Fillmore’s scent, Simon and Nathan turned toward the blood nearby. Some was Theral’s; most belonged to another human. They followed the blood trail to within sight of the Green Complex’s garden, where they met Blair, who was sniffing around . . .
Oh no, Simon thought. Meg can’t know about this.
Simon approached the backbone stripped clean of meat, while Nathan pawed the torn clothes and found a wallet and keys. Blair sniffed a foot, still in its shoe, that had a few inches of leg attached to it.
They were shaped differently, but a grown human male would have as much meat as a deer. But that wasn’t much of a meal for any of the Elders’ forms when there were two of them consuming the meat.
The bones—what was left of them—were stripped clean. All the organs were gone, and the long bones of one leg had been cracked for the marrow. The only thing left intact was the foot in the shoe and the . . .
He closed his teeth over the backbone and headed for the bushes. Blair and Nathan followed with the feet, dumped them at the chosen spot, then went back to look for any other bits of bone and meat scraps.
They gathered up everything they could find of the human. Nathan ran to the Green Complex to find a bag to carry the clothes and belongings while Simon and Blair began digging.
“Would the Wolfgard like some help?”
The Wolves looked at Earth, who sat astride a sand-colored steed.
“Quicksand and I can do that.”
The ground beneath the human remains turned into that deadly kind of sand. When the last bit of bone disappeared, the ground became solid, sandy earth.
Quicksand pawed the ground, momentarily turning a patch of sandy earth back into quicksand.
Earth laughed. “Our Meg is handing out sugar lumps as an extra-special treat. Quicksand wants to get her share.” The Elemental turned her steed, and they galloped toward the Market Square—and the Liaison’s Office.
Nathan said a minute later. He dropped a large paper bag and small blanket near the pile of torn clothes.
They put the jeans, shirt, underwear, and one shoe into the bag, along with a belt and the keys and wallet. That Jack might have carried other things in his pockets, but after a quick search of the area, they didn’t find anything except the other shoe. They put the bag in the blanket and loosely tied the blanket ends to make it easier for the Wolves to hold. Then Simon and Nathan headed back to the Market Square while Blair returned to the Utilities Complex.
They came across several Crowgard, who flew off the moment they were spotted. Since there were a couple of dull coins in the road, Simon figured the Crowgard had made off with any shinies that might have fallen from that Jack’s pockets.
When they passed the ponies carrying full mail baskets, Simon realized how little time had passed. That was good. Meg had been busy. Unfortunately, it also meant that Montgomery and Kowalski were still in the Market Square. The men watched as he and Nathan trotted past with the bag swinging in the blanket between them.
They hustled up the efficiency apartments’ back stairs. Figuring he didn’t have much time before Montgomery came looking for him, Simon shifted his front paws enough to have semi-human digits, then pulled the wallet out of the bag. He removed the money—lots of money—and dropped the wallet back in the bag.
If the police did the fingerprint thing on the wallet, they wouldn’t find anything useful that would identify him.
Not that it would matter if they could identify him.
He set the money aside, shifted all the way to human, and quickly dressed. Stuffing the money into his back pocket, he looked at Nathan. “I’ll deal with Lieutenant Montgomery.” He leaned down and sniffed Nathan’s mouth. “You should eat some grass or something before you go back to the Liaison’s Office. You have human-meat breath.”
Which meant he probably did too. Good thing human noses weren’t sensitive enough to make the distinction. Meg wouldn’t be able to tell either, but with Meg, it didn’t seem polite to breathe on her after munching on one of her species.
Simon grabbed the bag and opened the door. Nathan hurried down the stairs and past Montgomery. Simon came down more slowly and held out the bag.
“That’s what we found.”
Montgomery took the bag and opened it. “Nothing else?”
“There’s nothing left, Lieutenant.” Which didn’t quite answer the question, but it was the truth.
Montgomery nodded. “Katherine Debany is driving Theral to the MacDonalds’ family doctor. Welby Owlgard said he didn’t know human bodies well enough to tell if Theral had a concussion and thought it best for her to see a human healer.”
“That makes sense.”
There were things to be said, questions to be asked. But neither of them wanted to say or ask.
“I’d best get this evidence to the station and fill out a DLU form,” Montgomery said.
Simon nodded. He walked with Montgomery to the access way, then turned left toward the employee parking lot while Montgomery turned right toward Main Street.
He found Kowalski helping Theral into Katherine Debany’s car. His amber eyes met Kowalski’s dark, angry ones. Once Theral was settled, Katherine started her car. But when Kowalski rounded the car and moved toward him, Simon held up a hand, signaling Katherine to wait.
“If he’d gotten Theral out of the Courtyard, we wouldn’t have found her alive,” Kowalski said in a low voice. “It would have been hard on the MacDonald family to lose her at any time, but especially so soon after Lawrence being killed.”
Simon watched the police officer until he was out of sight. Then he pulled the money from his back pocket, removed four fifties, and handed them to Katherine Debany. “For the doctor and whatever medicine Theral needs.”
Katherine Debany studied his face and looked as if she wanted to ask where he’d gotten the money. Then she thanked him and took the bills.
Once she and Theral were gone, he went to the Liaison’s Office to find out what Meg knew.
Meg heard the chorus of neighs at the sorting room’s outside door. She looked at Merri Lee as she walked over to open it. “The ponies are here for the mail.”
“Does that mean it’s safe to go outside?” Merri Lee asked.
Meg thought about that, then shook her head. The ponies were a form of terra indigene, so their being outside didn’t mean it was safe for humans. She opened the door a few inches. A black nose immediately pushed into the opening.
Thunder, who was always the first pony in line.
She opened the door all the way and tried to lean out to look down the access way, but all she saw were the last wisps of fog and the ponies.
As she turned toward the table to fetch the stacks of mail for Thunder’s baskets, she realized what else should be on the table. Waving at Merri Lee to join her, she whispered, “I didn’t prepare any treats. See what you can find in the back room.”
While Merri Lee rummaged in the under-the-counter fridge and cupboards, Meg filled the baskets with mail going to the different complexes in the Courtyard. She was picking up the stack for the Wolfgard Complex when Merri Lee returned, holding something behind her back.
“All I could find was the box of sugar lumps,” Merri Lee whispered.
“Well, I’ll just make sure everyone knows this is an extra-special treat this week.” “Everyone” would include Jester Coyotegard, just in case the ponies didn’t want to believe her next week when she offered the regular treat of apples or carrots.
When Thunder was first in line again, Meg handed out the sugar lumps, to all the ponies’ delight. Not all. Three of the ponies were missing. The rest of them trotted off to deliver the mail, looking quite pleased with themselves.
As soon as Meg locked the sorting room’s door, she and Merri Lee hurried to the back room and looked out the window.
“Theral is in the Market Square,” Merri Lee said. “Maybe she can see what’s . . .”
“I saw a man running up the access way,” Meg said, rubbing her throat. “Simon was going the wrong way, going to deal with the argument at the apartments.”
The phone rang. They ran into the sorting room. Feeling breathless, Meg grabbed the receiver. “Hello? Vlad! What . . . ?” She braced a hand against the counter. “Is she . . . ? Okay. Yes. Okay.” She hung up and looked at Merri Lee. “A man tried to abduct Theral. She’s hurt, but she’ll be all right. Mrs. Debany is taking her to the doctor’s. Vlad says it’s safe for you to go back to Howling Good Reads—Tess and Nadine are in A Little Bite, so they’re nearby—but you can stay here a while longer if you want to.”
“I want to stay,” Merri Lee said.
Another chorus of neighs outside the sorting room door. Meg found Fog, Quicksand, and Whirlpool standing there, sans baskets. Obviously the other ponies had informed their friends about the special treat.
After handing out sugar lumps and washing her hands, she returned to the sorting room, where Merri Lee studied the cards that were still on the table.
“We still have a lot to learn about interpreting what is seen,” Merri Lee said, “but I think you’re getting better at using the cards to reveal prophecy.”
“I saw death. But Theral will be okay.”
“Did Vlad say anything about the man?”
Meg stared at her friend, but she was thinking about when she had hidden in the Pony Barn with Sam, Skippy, and Jester while Namid’s teeth and claws roamed the city, hidden by the fog. She was thinking about the odd and terrible silence that had filled the Courtyard that day.
“No,” Meg finally said. “No, he didn’t.”
Simon stared at the three cards on the sorting room table, especially the middle card, the upside-down figure of a person pointing. This explained why Meg had said he was going the wrong way.
Distraction. Diversion. The Humans First and Last movement had used the attacks in Thaisia as a diversion for the war in Cel-Romano. It hadn’t changed the outcome of the war, but it had forced the terra indigene to ignore a distant threat in order to deal with the one right in front of them. Just like what happened in the Courtyard a little while ago.
Damned tethered goat.
A family dispute, no charges filed. As far as Simon was concerned, the fight was overdue. Unfortunately, the trouble in the Market Square stopped the fight between Montgomery and that Cyrus before Montgomery could settle the question of dominance once and for all. Equally unfortunate, Simon thought it likely that Montgomery would receive a thrashing from the leaders of the police pack for fighting where he was seen by all the humans driving by on Crowfield Avenue.
Well, that was Burke’s job.
“You’re all right?” he asked Meg and Merri Lee.
“We’re fine,” Meg replied. “I didn’t see much.”
“Captain Burke might want to talk to you. It’s almost time for the midday break. Why don’t you go over to A Little Bite and eat? Vlad is at HGR now, so I can watch the office here for a few minutes in case there are any last-minute deliveries.”
Meg put the cards back in the box and put the box in the drawer.
“I’ll wait outside,” Merri Lee said.
“Simon?”
Don’t ask, Meg. I won’t lie to you, so don’t ask.
“Tess told us a while ago that there is some mint growing in the Courtyard, so I wondered . . . Do Wolves usually chew on mint?”
“No. Why?” Before coming to see Meg, he’d gone into the bathroom at HGR to use some mouthwash. He’d also examined both sets of teeth to make sure there weren’t any bits of human flesh stuck between them from carrying the backbone.
Did he smell minty from the mouthwash—or was the scent wafting in from the front room?
Meg confirmed that suspicion when she glanced at the Private doorway before leaning toward him and whispering, “When Nathan came back to the office, he smelled like he’d rolled in mint.”
Nathan had a point, especially since he was still in Wolf form.
“Theral won’t have to be afraid anymore,” he told Meg.
She nodded and left the office without asking for details. He didn’t think anyone would ask for details about that Jack Fillmore.
Well, almost anyone.
Burke gave Cyrus Montgomery his fierce-friendly smile and watched the man try not to squirm.
“You want to come in or something?” Cyrus asked grudgingly.
Burke shook his head and looked around. They were standing on the front lawn of the apartment building, within sight of neighbors and the traffic on Crowfield Avenue. “You didn’t see anything wrong with having an argument with your brother where everyone could see, so I don’t see any reason why you and I can’t have a chat right here.”
“That’s family business.”
“Do you know Jack Fillmore?” Burke asked.
Cyrus shook his head. “Don’t know the name.”
“Really? According to the bartender at the Stag and Hare, you and Jack were drinking together the other day and looked quite cozy. Some money changed hands.”
“Don’t know . . . Oh, Jack. Yeah. I know who you mean. He owed me some money and paid back a little yesterday.”
“So you know him well.”
“Wouldn’t say that.”
“But you know him well enough to loan him . . . how much?”
A hesitation. “Five hundred.”
“That’s a lot of money to lend an acquaintance when you keep telling your mother and brother that you’re too broke to buy food for your family and expect them to help out.”
Another hesitation. “Had some emergency cash stashed away. If my woman found out, she’d spend it all on stupid shit. You know how they are.” Cyrus rocked his weight from one foot to the other. “Why are you asking about Jack?”
“He tried to abduct a young woman around the same time that you were having that public girlie fight with Lieutenant Montgomery. You know, lots of shouting and light slapping but no real hurt intended because, if you’d thrown a punch, you would have been arrested for assaulting a police officer. As his captain, I would have insisted that Monty file charges.” Burke’s smile turned fiercer. “This is what I find interesting. You call your brother, the police lieutenant, and insist on meeting him during his shift instead of waiting until he gets home. But the witnesses who overheard this shouting match didn’t hear anything that justified your urgency to bring Monty back here right around the time of the abduction attempt.”
“It was family business. I don’t know about that other stuff.”
“I hope that’s true, Mr. Montgomery. We’re going to be looking at Jack Fillmore very carefully and investigating everyone he’s met in Lakeside to discover if he had anyone helping him with the abduction—either directly or by distracting the Courtyard security during the attempt. The young woman was injured when he tried to forcibly remove her from her place of work. He threatened to kill her. Everyone connected with him will be brought in for questioning, especially because the police will not be able to bring Jack Fillmore to justice.”
“He got away?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
No understanding in Cyrus Montgomery’s eyes. He probably thought Fillmore somehow escaped and skipped town when the abduction was thwarted. He might even think Fillmore would be back for another try.
“Family discussions should be held after work from now on,” Burke said. “Any discussions that are held during Lieutenant Montgomery’s shift will be considered police business. Are we clear about that?”
“Clear enough.”
Resentment. Slyness. How did a man grow up to be this, living in the same household as Monty, with a woman like Twyla for a mother?
Burke started to walk away, then stopped. “By the way, I bought the Stag and Hare. In a few weeks, it won’t be a good place to conduct any kind of business that can’t withstand intense police scrutiny.”
That was as much of a warning as he was willing to give the brother of Crispin James Montgomery.
Meg set the large plastic food container outside the back door of the Liaison’s Office. She didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a large someone keeping watch, waiting for the promised treat.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded wimpy. Being brave was easier when you didn’t know how stupid you’d been, scolding a primal form of terra indigene that frightened everyone you knew. Well, maybe not the Elementals, but everyone else. “Hello? Arroo? Here are the cookies.” She hesitated, because, really, would beings like the Elders care about little human concerns? “If you can, please return the container intact. Then it can be washed and used for another order of treats.”
No movement. No sound. Henry had told her the Elders were seldom seen in any form, so she didn’t really expect them to come rushing up like the Wolves would when cookies were delivered.
She started to retreat into the office, but she had one more thing to tell them—if any of them were listening. “Thank you for saving Theral today.”
Back inside the office, she locked the door. Not that a lock kept out anyone but humans, but it made her feel a little better.
An hour later, when she closed the office for the day and stepped outside to wait for Simon, she noticed the container of cookies was gone.
Burke drove fast as he headed north toward a stretch of road near Lake Tahki. He glanced at Steve Ferryman, who had made the second phone call he’d taken just before he left the office. “Your counterpart is sure about this?”
“You asked me to put out feelers,” Steve replied. “In response, I was asked to come to their village.”
“Trap?”
“No.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes. “I had to ask. Highway patrol called just before you did. They found Lorenzo’s car—and they found bodies.”
Steve looked at him. “They think they found Lorenzo.”
“They didn’t say that.”
“You ever do highway patrol?” Steve asked when they reached the location and Burke pulled up behind the flashing patrol car.
“During my tours of duty in the wild country,” Burke replied.
The officer in charge was young enough that Burke wondered why he’d been given this assignment. Then he caught the look the cop exchanged with Ferryman.
Intuit. They might have to hide what they were in order to stay safe among other kinds of humans, but their people still needed the same skills as any other community, and that included law enforcement.
“A car was torched just up the road,” the officer said. “Two bodies inside. Another officer and I were walking the road to see if we could find anything else when we spotted the white sedan on the woodland track.”
Not a paved highway. Not even a dirt road. But vehicles used that clear space between the trees often enough that there were visible tracks that another driver could follow to someplace rarely seen by humans.
“Got your BOLO about the same time as we found the cars,” the officer continued. “And we found a couple of other things I think you’ll want to see since I gathered you’re more interested in the owner of the vehicle than the vehicle itself.”
“That’s correct,” Burke said.
The officer led them to a body bag. “Male. Hands don’t look old, but I can’t tell you much else. You can look if you want, but it’s bad.”
“He was shot?” Burke asked.
“Him? No, although there is some blood in the car, so whoever was driving it might have been shot.” The officer blew out a breath. “No, something picked up this man and swung him like a club into that tree. Pulped his head.”
“Hair color?”
“Light brown. Cut short.”
Burke breathed out tension. “That’s not the man I’m looking for.”
“Might have been better for him if it was.” The officer pointed toward the track in the woods. “This way.”
The officer led them just far enough along the track that a curve hid the car from sight. Then he pointed. “The blood trail from the car ends here.”
Steve Ferryman sucked in a breath. “Is that a paw print?”
The officer nodded. “Something picked up a body and carried it off up the track.”
“Did you follow the prints?” Burke asked.
“No, sir. We’re already beyond the right-of-way standing here. If you’ve seen enough, we should get back to the highway.”
If Steve Ferryman hadn’t been with him, he might have pushed to go a little farther up the track, regardless of the risk. But he knew that he wouldn’t find Dominic Lorenzo around here.
The car would be towed to the nearest human settlement, but the officer handed over Lorenzo’s medical bag and carryall. No reason not to since there was no one to arrest, and the highway patrol and crime investigation team didn’t believe there was a body left to be found.
Back in the car, Burke followed Steve’s directions as they continued north toward Lake Tahki until they reached a small village. No welcome sign with the village name. The houses looked a bit shabby—in need of paint—but the yards were neatly kept and every house had flower beds or planters. The business district was the same mix of neat and shabby. An older place with not a lot of money to spare on extras, whether you were talking about the governing body or the individual families.
Burke pulled into the parking lot beside a clinic and drugstore. Saying nothing, he followed Steve inside the clinic—and found Dominic Lorenzo.
“I’m glad to see you,” he said, studying the cuts and bruises on Lorenzo’s face. Pained face. Meg Corbyn had been right about that. Judging by the bandages around the man’s torso and the sling supporting one arm, it was a good bet some of the bullets that hit the car also hit the man but hadn’t inflicted life-threatening wounds.
“I’m glad to be here,” Lorenzo replied. “There were three men . . .”
“Not a worry anymore.”
Lorenzo stared at him, then nodded in understanding.
“What do you want to do?” Burke asked.
Lorenzo gave him a tired smile. “I want to go home. I sent Governor Hannigan my final report and my resignation from the task force a couple of days ago. This was my last stop before heading back to Lakeside.”
“You’re going back to the hospital to work in the emergency room?”
“No. I know too much about the blood prophets and would be vulnerable in a city hospital. I was planning to sell my house, find a way to disappear—find someplace to work where unscrupulous men couldn’t find me.”
“We have an opening for a physician on Great Island,” Steve said. “The work would include running the little clinic in the River Road Community, but that’s safe ground too. Even if you’re looking for something different, we’ll find a place for you on the island until you recover from your injuries.”
“I appreciate that.”
When they were back on the road to Lakeside, Burke said, “Why resign?”
“Besides the risk of leading someone to the girls, or being run off the road by someone trying to capture me for information?” Lorenzo replied dryly. “We weren’t doing those girls any good. I think the governor meant well when he set up the task force, but the girls didn’t need someone coming in to ask questions and disrupt their routine. And sooner or later, someone watching the doctors would see a pattern, would figure out where the girls were located. Like they did with me.”
“What was your recommendation?”
Lorenzo closed his eyes. “To leave them alone to find their own way to deal with the world and their cursed gift of prophecy. That would be the kindest thing we could do for them.”
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