Third Time's the Charm

by K. J. Emrick

  She leans on the door, and stares.

  “Wow. You’re really tall.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The door to her apartment opens on the kitchen, a wide-open area with countertops to the left and a big table with four chairs dominating the middle of the space. Further back is a huge living room with padded chairs and a flatscreen that takes up most of one wall, facing a brown suede couch. Floating shelves adorn the walls. Landscape paintings hang between them.

  On the couch, Kurt the werewolf is sprawled on his belly, his muzzle resting on his outstretched front paws. A heavy sigh ripples the dark fur all along his spine. When we first came in, Molly had spent several minutes talking to him over there, softly whispering into one broad ear. I couldn’t hear what she said but whatever it was made Kurt grumble and clack his long teeth together. He’s been sitting their silently ever since.

  Once she’d gotten used to the idea of Harry being a genie and not a really tall bodyguard, Molly had made us cups of tea—some herbal mix that included rosehip of all things—and we were sitting here drinking and talking while Kurt moped and sighed every few minutes.

  At least, Harry and Molly are drinking and talking. I’ve been pushing my cup back and forth between my hands while the tea went cold. I don’t like tea in the first place, and I’m pretty sure adding rosehips to it isn’t going to make me change my mind. I much prefer Harry’s coffee even if the grounds do keep telling him I’m going die.

  “I wish,” Molly says, holding her cup out to Harry, “that there was a cinnamon stick in this.”

  He shrugs and takes a sip from his tea. “Then you should put a stick in, lady witch.”

  She huffs, disappointed that her wish doesn’t come true. “I thought you said he was a genie.”

  “He is,” I reassure her. “But he’s my genie. Besides, I don’t get to wish for whatever I want. He’s not going to make me rich and famous just because I ask him. It’s a lot more complicated than that, trust me.”

  “I am a complicated man,” Harry declares, holding his pinky out as he slurps his tea.

  “Would you want to be rich and famous?” Molly asks me.

  That’s a decent question. “Honestly? No I wouldn’t. Not really. I like what I do too much to give it up for a higher tax bracket.”

  “Me too,” she agrees, lifting her cup in a toast. “So. You spoke to those thugs, and they deny taking the necklace. Can you believe them? I mean, they are criminals, and…you know. Not nice people. They don’t exactly tell the truth all the time, right?”

  “Yeah, they lie more than most,” I agree with her, “but this time we believe them.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  Remembering the sight of those three men lying helpless on the ground, I can’t help but smile. “Me and Harry gave them a very good incentive to tell the truth.”

  “What incentive?”

  “We were going to break their arms if they lied.”

  Over on the couch, I swear I hear Kurt laugh. It’s a huffing, puffing, wheezing sort of laughter formed in an animal’s throat but it’s still laughter. A sound that was never meant to come out of a mouth that long and narrow and…furry.

  Molly smiles across the table at me. “Kurt likes you.”

  That surprises me a little. I mean it’s nice to hear, but it’s not like the prince of the werewolves and I have had a lot of time to bond. I’ve been busy, and he’s been sort of stuck in his lupus form. Maybe his canine instincts allow him to make friends quicker.

  I lean around in my chair and send him a thumbs-up sign. “Right back at ya.”

  He licks his pink tongue across his nose. Hopefully that means ‘thanks’ in wolf, and not ‘you sure look tasty.’

  “So what is our next move?” Molly asks. She looks proud of herself for using that phrase, most likely something she picked up from watching Law and Order reruns. It was the right question to ask, though. In fact it was the whole reason we were here.

  I finally push my teacup aside altogether while I answer her. “Unfortunately, without the Northside Demons as suspects, then we’re back to looking at Kurt’s family. His sister, Ulva, and his brother, Lowell. Either one of them stood to gain by putting Kurt in the position he’s in…”

  I stop.

  In my mind, I see the mental flash of a raging black wolf springing off the couch and launching himself across the entire space of the wide apartment.

  I push myself out of my chair so hard I knock it over behind me. As I turn around, I see the mental picture made real, Kurt angry and snarling and jumping through the air, coming at me, and it’s everything in me not to pull my gun and defend myself.

  So much for him deciding he likes me.

  His jump lands him just short of the table, a distance of twenty feet, easy. He lands effortlessly on his padded feet, dropping soundlessly, as if he’d only taken a single step. His lips pull back from his teeth as he snarls and yips at me in an animal language I can’t understand. His big ears are laid back flat. His hackles are up. His tail is bushed out.

  He’s mad about something.

  I take a step back, although with what I just saw I don’t have enough space behind me to be out of his reach. In the next instant Harry is in front of me, using his body as a shield. That’s fine with me. Feminism be damned, I’ll gladly let him stand there. Whether he’s immortal or not I don’t really know, but I have to believe he’s better able to withstand a wolf attack than I am.

  “Kurt!” Molly snaps at him. Her voice is high and panicked. She obviously wasn’t expecting that from him, either.

  He turns that growl on her and mutters something, a mix of whining snarls and little barks.

  “I know what she said,” Molly answers him. Obviously, she speaks wolf just fine. “I was sitting right here when she said it.”

  Shaking himself all over, he snaps his teeth together several times, and howls.

  Dear God, I hope the walls of these apartments have some decent soundproofing. If not, the neighbors are going to have nightmares for a week.

  “That’s true,” Molly says. She comes over to stand right beside him, planting both of her fists on her hips. “But you know she’s not wrong. Whether they’re your family or not, they both hated you for the changes you were trying to bring to the wolf clans. They don’t want progress. They want everything to stay just like they were in the middle ages, when werewolves hunted little children and ate their kills raw. And, oh yeah, back when they burned witches at the stake!”

  That last comment hit home for Kurt. His head drops low. His tail droops as his fur settles back into place. This time when he grumbles through his sharp teeth, there’s a lot less snarling.

  “I know it’s upsetting,” Molly soothes him. She drops down to her knees next to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying the side of her face in his ruff. “I hate all of this, Kurt. I hate them for the way they treat you. I hate them for the way they treat me. The way they treat us.” She buries her face in his fur, and I have to strain to hear the rest of what she says. “Family or not, one of them did this to you. You heard everything Sidney said. It makes sense, and we both know it. Even Harper knows how terrible they are. She only started hanging around Ulva because she wants a position in the werewolf court. She thinks Ulva can give her what you never would. I hate them, Kurt. I hate them all.”

  With a heavy sigh, the big wolf sits back on his haunches, leaning into Molly, licking the side of her face with his flat tongue. It’s actually kind of a beautiful moment. I can see the love that exists between them, unbroken by the tragedy they were being forced to endure.

  If Molly can love a man who is literally a freaking fairy tale come to life, then why can’t I believe a guy like Chris would love me for who I am?

  Good question. One I might have to make myself answer later, after I’m done solving everyone else’s problems.

  My hand eases away from my gun. I step out from behind Harry, patting him on the back as I do as a thank-you f
or protecting me. “So,” I say to Molly. “I take it we’re good?”

  She nods, wiping the tears out of her eyes on Kurt’s coat. “He’s just angry. Please don’t hold that against him. He’s got every right.”

  “One of his family members put a pretty big whammy on him,” I say. “Yeah. I think he’s got every right to be upset. Just…tell him not to take it out of my hide, okay?”

  Kurt keens through his teeth, his big dark eyes looking at me balefully.

  “He says he’s sorry,” Molly translated. “You don’t have to ask me to speak for you, you know. He can understand English just fine. He’s just…well, he’s becoming more and more wolf every day, but he hasn’t lost his humanity. Not yet. With your help, it won’t get that far.”

  “Right. Well. Let’s get to the helping, then.” I take a seat again, but on this end of the table instead of over where my chair is still lying tipped over onto its side. “One thing I did want to ask you, Kurt. What does your mother think about all this? I mean, she’s the reigning queen and here her children are all stabbing each other in the back, so to speak. She must have something to say about what they did to you?”

  Molly’s snort is laced with derision. “The queen can’t be bothered with petty things like this. Kurt is the rightful heir but if one of her other children remove him and take his spot, she’ll be oh so very proud of them. That’s the type of woman she is.”

  Kurt pushes his head against her shoulder, rocking her back. She gives him the same kind of look any girlfriend would have when discussing their future mother-in-law. “Don’t give me that, Kurt. You know it’s true.”

  Okay. Well, at least I don’t have to put the mother on the suspect list. From what Molly just said, the queen is the type who stands back and lets everyone else knock each other senseless so she can pick the winner. She’s not the kind to take an active role. I’d been worried that she might not like Kurt’s proposed changes either, and maybe she did this to stop him from taking over when she was gone. I guess not.

  Which, once again, leads me back to Ulva and Lowell as my only suspects.

  “Okay. Kurt, if you can keep yourself from biting my head off, then I’ve got more questions.” He lowers the tip of his muzzle in my direction. I’ll take that as ‘yes.’ “Good. So. Am I right in assuming that no one outside of your family knew that the Garoul Necklace is really a magic charm?”

  “Not exactly,” Molly answers for him. “All the werewolf clans knew what it was. That’s every werewolf, and everyone they’ve told.”

  “Including you,” I say, pointing out the obvious.

  Kurt’s chest rumbles with a growl.

  “Take it easy,” I tell him. “I’m not saying Molly had anything to do with this.”

  Molly sniffs. “Ulva said it.”

  “Yeah, and I figure that was her trying to deflect suspicion off herself.” I was hoping to whittle down the field of suspects to just Ulva and Lowell, but now I’ve got to consider every single werewolf. Great. “Let’s try this. Who knew the necklace was going to be left here with Molly?”

  The slender pixie witch brightens with that question. “Just Kurt’s family. Ulva and Lowell and their mother. Harper. Me. Kurt.”

  “They’re the only ones who knew it was here in that box?”

  “Sure. I mean, unless…”

  “Unless they told someone,” I finish for her with a sigh. “In which case we’re right back to a whole bunch of people. Okay. I’m still going to focus on Ulva and Lowell. They had the most to gain, and they knew where the necklace was. If I clear them, then we can widen the search. One thing I don’t get, though. The necklace was stolen during this Harvest Moon celebration thingee you told me about. All the werewolves were supposed to be there, right? It’s like a big club meeting or something?”

  Kurt’s head flops to one side, his eyes narrowed, and I swear to you he looks like the dog in that meme going Are you serious?

  “It’s more than just some meeting,” Molly tells me. “It’s a celebration of life. A communing with nature and the energies of wild, growing things. It’s an important rite in their culture. Witches do something similar at the Winter Solstice.”

  “Sure, and every Catholic goes to church on Easter Sunday even if they skip the rest of the year. What I mean is, Ulva and Lowell had to be there for the ceremony, right? People would have noticed if Kurt’s brother and sister weren’t there, wouldn’t they?”

  “Well sure, but again it’s not that simple.” She sits on the floor, cross-legged, leaning herself up against Kurt’s strong, fuzzy shoulder. “There’s a lot of chaos once the ceremony starts. Everyone is in wolf form, running solo, or running in packs, or moving from group to group… I’ve never been involved in it myself, obviously, but Kurt’s told me all about it. It’s easy to lose track of someone until the end of the night when they all come back together and end the luping by returning to their human forms. They were there, but they could have left at any time.”

  Harry folds himself down into the chair next to me, rubbing a hand over his chin thoughtfully. “It would seem, that as far as alibis go, Ulva and Lowell do not have very good ones.”

  “Yeah, it would,” I agree. But then another thought occurs to me. “Except, every werewolf had to change that night, right? The moon makes them change? Something about how it affects the rhythm of their body, or their blood, or whatever.”

  Harry makes a noncommittal sound with his lips. “Close enough, my lady. They can change between forms when they want, but during full moons and certain other calendar days, the pull of the luping is impossible to resist.”

  I have no idea how being a werewolf works, but I get the gist. The Harvest Moon Festival is one of those nights when every one of them turned into an animal. “So I have that part right, didn’t I? That’s part of the lunar cycle, and the werewolves can’t help but go all luping on the Harvest Moon?”

  “That’s not the way you say it,” Molly said patiently, “but yes. The wolf makes itself known on that night of the year, as it does on several others.”

  “Okay. Then how could Ulva or Lowell have done this if they were in wolf form at the time? It would have been pretty hard for either of them to romp through Detroit as a big old wolf, pick the lock to this apartment, and then steal a necklace from a magic box. I think people would have noticed a wolf breaking into your apartment.”

  “There are ways.” Molly lifts her hand, and waves it through the air. Sparkles trail after her fingertips. “Magic. Well, sort of. There aren’t any other magic charms to keep a werewolf from luping but there are certain herbs that a werewolf can eat in wolf form that will give them back their human shape for an hour or two. Kurt used to use them when we were first dating. Before he started wearing the necklace so we could, um, be together whenever we wanted to.”

  I took the double meaning in that easily enough. I’m pretty sure these two never missed a chance to ‘be together.’ It must be killing them to be this close, and yet still be kept apart because someone knew enough to take that necklace away.

  Well, now I’ve established that Ulva and Lowell didn’t have an alibi for the time of the theft. Not a solid one, anyway. One of them could have easily left the party in the middle of the chaos, ate the magic ginseng weed or whatever it was, and drove themselves to Molly’s apartment. That gave them opportunity.

  Means, motive, and opportunity. Those were the three key parts to any crime. See? I was right. It doesn’t matter if your suspects are plain, ordinary people or werewolves or bendy snake men wearing a people-suit. Crime is crime. It’s all the same.

  Ulva and Lowell had the opportunity to steal the necklace. They both had motive.

  But…did they have the means to get in here and take the charm away?

  “Molly, you said you brought Kurt to the Harvest Moon Festival, and when you did you left the necklace here?”

  “Yes, I did. I had to put him on a leash to walk him out of here. Without the Garoul Necklace he was unable t
o prevent the change into a wolf.”

  “I’ll bet he hated that.”

  Kurt’s head rolls over to look Molly in the eye, and then he quickly looks away. If it was possible for a wolf to blush, that’s exactly what Kurt would be doing right now. I get the impression that maybe they’ve used that leash before, and not to take him out on walks. I’m not the one to judge anyone for what goes on in their bedroom but that…yeah. That’s more than a little kinky.

  “Um. Okay,” I say, wanting to change the subject before anyone could say anything else about leather collars and bondage. “So before you left you put the necklace in its box. Did you lock the door on the way out?”

  “Of course! I would never leave my apartment unlocked. I have witch things in here that I don’t want getting stolen, and some jewelry. Oh, and my diary!” She throws her hands up over her mouth like that was the worst thing she could possibly imagine. “I always lock the door, but I double checked it that night. I had a feeling something was going to go wrong. It’s something that pixie witches can do. We have feelings. Sensations. I knew there was going to be trouble. I just didn’t know it would be this bad. I didn’t know.”

  “We understand that,” Harry assures her, his deep voice calm and soothing. “No one is blaming you.”

  “No one but Harper and Ulva.” She chews on a fingernail, and then shrugs. “Whatever. Neither of them have ever liked me being with Kurt anyway.”

  “Let me guess,” I say. “They think you aren’t good enough for him, and you’re diluting the pure bloodline of the Dachiana clan.”

  She nods vigorously. “Uh-huh. You got it. I mean, Harper’s done her best to get involved with the family, but I don’t see them turning on her.”

  “But she’s not the one engaged to marry Kurt, now is she?”