A Forest So Deadly (Pioneer Falls Book 2)

by Heather Davis

  I dug into my salad, while Alicia and another friend from our journalism class, Jeanie Yamada, chatted about their articles for next week’s issue. Alicia ate her sandwich from a poppy-patterned reusable lunch bag. She always seemed to have the perfect accessories like that. Today, her black hair was pulled back into a bun adorned with a silk flower clip that she’d bought from an online artisan shop. The color of the flower was the exact blue of her blouse.

  Dressed in a simple sweater and denim skirt, Jeanie leaned forward on her elbows, listening, her brown eyes shining. Her lunch, a rice and salmon bento box, looked homemade, maybe something her mom had put together. I could smell the sweet sauce and the toasted sesame seeds sprinkled on the fish. Jeanie laughed, and for a moment I thought it was because she heard my stomach growl. But really, Alicia was cracking her up as she described her ideas for the costume contest coverage.

  I was a step behind them, losing track of the conversation. I wondered if they’d notice if I pulled out the old flip phone and scrolled through messages. I crunched a couple of bites of the garlic bread while I tried to figure out a way to do it surreptitiously.

  “How’s your piece on the Harvest Festival going?” Alicia asked before taking a final bite of her turkey and cheese sandwich.

  “Oh.” I brushed a few garlicky crumbs from my lips. “Got some quotes over the weekend, so it’s coming along, I guess.”

  Jeanie set down her water bottle. “Apparently some of the families in town have been working on their costumes for weeks. You should interview them, Alicia.”

  Alicia nodded, getting out her notebook to write down some names.

  Just then, Alex Bowman passed our table, causing me to lose my train of thought again. Just a few weeks ago, he’d been one of the only ones helping us look for Dad. Since we’d realized his father was a hunter, I’d kept my distance as much as he kept his distance from us. Though he was only a junior, he was in my AP English class and this was a small school, besides. There was no avoiding him.

  That day, he was wearing a checkered black and white button-up over a vintage Fugazi concert tee and jeans. Balancing his lunch tray precariously with his backpack thrown over a shoulder and his skateboard under his other arm, he made his way to an empty table at the back of the room. I felt a pang of loss for the cool, smart friend I’d lost. It was too bad, all of it. He’d had a crush on Rose and that was over now, too.

  “You okay?” Alicia asked, touching my shoulder.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Not about that kid Alex,” Jeannie said.

  “Forget him. I’ve seen you around town with that hot new guy. What’s his story?” Alicia asked, leaning in.

  “Oh, Morgan? Just a traveler who decided to stay,” I replied. “Hey, will you guys watch my stuff for a second while I run to the bathroom?”

  “Sure,” Alicia said. “But when you’re back you better tell us everything about Morgan.”

  Locked in a stall in the restroom off the cafeteria, I pulled the flip phone out. It was seriously old. An old dude’s ancient phone. Even Dad had an iPhone, even if it wasn’t the newest one. Ivan’s flip phone was at least ten years old and didn’t even have a passcode set. I opened the message history. It wasn’t surprising to see Ivan hadn’t really understood how to text. In a string between him and Cooper, Ivan had spelled out even long words. From you to tomorrow, he’d taken the time to hunt and peck the exact letters to form the proper spelling. That must have taken forever. He didn’t even have an auto-complete or correct function turned on. Old people, I thought, closing that string.

  But next I found a conversation from someone named Honey Lips. Awkward as it was to click and open that one, I found the exchange Cooper had told me about.

  The oldest text from her—or him, I added mentally since I didn’t know for sure Honey Lips wasn’t a guy—read:

  Thanks for last nt

  Can’t wait 2 c u Fri after wk

  Ivan had replied:

  You’re welcome. Looking forward to the next time I see you, darling.

  I flinched, feeling embarrassed for reading the texts and for the awkwardness of poor Ivan’s responses. I forged on, despite my inner cringing, scrolling through the messages that followed. Some appeared more lovey-dovey than others. The last exchange caught my attention:

  Meet @ ur place tmw nt? 8?

  Honey Lips had sent that message on Tuesday, the night after Dad had gone missing. Ivan had responded with:

  Sure thing. We’ll have cake. You bring the whipped cream.

  Oh, man. I shook my head at Ivan’s attempt at romance. Honey Lips had responded with a sexy-winky face emoji. Some girls entered the bathroom, chattering. I realized I’d been in there for a couple of minutes. I flushed the toilet for effect, and quickly got to the next text from Honey Lips sent Wednesday night, the night of their date, around 8:15 p.m.

  U must b busy. Cars in ur drvwy. Resked?

  After Ivan hadn’t responded, Honey Lips had sent:

  K. Going hm now.

  The response sent from Ivan had read:

  Sry 2 canx. Talk ltr.

  That seemed strange. After all those long, written-out texts, he’d used shorter forms all of a sudden. It seemed out of place, as if Ivan had been in a hurry or something.

  Honey Lips had replied back, but nothing further came from Ivan. By that time, maybe he’d already disappeared into the woods. I shut down the phone and stowed it back in my pocket as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Back at the table, Alicia and Jeannie were about to take off.

  “Are you okay?” Jeannie asked.

  “Yeah, something I ate,” I fibbed, gathering up my stuff.

  “Note to self, avoid the salad bar,” Alicia said, as we headed out of the room.

  I smiled, feeling a little sense of accomplishment. Thanks to the phone, I now had the beginning of a timeline. Everyone assumed Ivan had been dead around the time the wolf pack had rolled into town, but this seemed to suggest that he’d been alive as late as that Wednesday night.

  A twinge of guilt hit me. Dad had told me not to keep pursuing this, and I didn’t think he’d be happy if I suddenly turned over this phone. Cooper had asked me to discreetly inform this mystery lover of his father’s death, but based on the lack of texts after that night, that person probably knew Ivan was gone.

  But who was Honey Lips? I needed to know. Ivan’s sweetheart might have more to say about what had happened the night Ivan was killed.

  Chapter Eight

  After school, I parked my father’s truck in front of the only grocery store in town. I only had time to make a quick run-through before I was due for my shift at the coffee shop. Rose, who’d volunteered to come with me, grabbed our reusable shopping totes and headed inside with me. Though he often took us with him, Dad normally did the shopping, and until recently when Fawn started taking over in the kitchen, had done most of the cooking. He didn’t have a choice, really, since he’d been an only parent since I was three and we’d moved to town. There’d been times when I’d missed having a mom around, but Dad filled in all the gaps. From explaining about getting your period to buying us our first bras, Dad had done it all. Because of him, I knew how to change a tire, mow a lawn, and how to bake a cake.

  The sound of a guitar-heavy country tune poured through the speakers as we entered through the sliding glass doors. The scents of deli meats, bleach water, and ripening produce hit me like a wave. Without a lupine stone, I’d become so sensitive to smell. Not a bad thing when I was surrounded with the yummy baked-good smells of work, but a liability other times.

  I glanced at the shopping list while Rose got a cart. Mentally I struck through the items as we added them. Cereal, macaroni, potatoes, onions, eggs, bread. I paused at the meat department, wistfully eyeing the steaks in the cooler, which looked, and smelled, really good.

  “Lean ground beef, right?” Rose said, adding a pack to the cart.

  “Yeah.” I visually added
up the things in the cart. It seemed like we were on track, so after the meat counter, we circled back to the produce section for some apples. Then Rose remembered we were low on paper towels. As we passed the frozen-foods section, I grabbed a carton of ice cream, fudge ripple, Dad’s favorite. I figured we were right around our limit, so it was time to go.

  As I approached the checkout lanes, I saw a familiar head of white hair. Ezra stood in line with Gladys, leaning on the handles of their cart. They had a bunch of frozen french fries in their cart and bulk packs of chicken parts and what looked like pork or beef roasts. As the customer in front of them finished, they moved forward, putting their items on the conveyor belt.

  Rose let out a little gasp. “His foot.”

  I looked and saw what I hadn’t noticed at the bowling alley during the so-called parley—Ezra’s foot was gone, a bandaged stump in its place. He leaned on a crutch as they pushed the cart forward. I should have realized he’d lost his foot in the snare in the forest the night that I’d found my father. I’d heard the trap snap shut, but I’d been yards away, running into the brush away from him.

  “That’s the killer?” Rose whispered. “I mean, that’s the one that Dad says did it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Looks like a harmless old man,” Rose said, taking things from the cart and adding it to the conveyor belt.

  As the checker began scanning things, I watched the items flash up on the register’s display. I opened the envelope with the money, remembering that I’d used some of the money earlier to pay for lunch. My cafeteria purchase had only been a few bucks, but still, my palms started to sweat as the total crept up. I blinked as the checker announced the amount due.

  “Um…” I dug in my bag to come up with the five more dollars we needed. “Here’s a dollar in quarters,” I said, handing them to the cashier. “Rose, you have any cash on you?”

  Rose chewed her lower lip while she checked her pockets.

  “Here, I’ve got it,” said Nathaniel, lurking two customers behind us in line. I wondered if he’d planned that, if that’d been the reason he hadn’t checked out with Ezra and Gladys.

  “Oh. No, you don’t have to,” I said quickly.

  Nathaniel ignored me, reaching around the people between us to pass Rose a five-dollar bill. I caught a whiff of forest and a hint of cooking smells, grease, onions, vinegar.

  “Hey, we can just put the ice cream back,” I said, motioning at Rose not to keep the money. “We didn’t need it.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Rose insisted. “Thanks.” She flashed Nathaniel a smile and handed the flustered cashier the cash.

  Nathaniel took on a slight blush, and then faded back into line.

  I accepted the coins the cashier held out in change and dumped them into Rose’s hands. “I can’t believe you,” I grumbled. I didn’t feel good about taking any favors from Nathaniel.

  We moved to the end of the checking station, where a kid from Rose’s gym class was bagging up our groceries. I rushed to get the bags in the cart. Meanwhile, Rose kept stealing glances at Nathaniel. He added a box of powdered doughnuts to the conveyor belt and glanced toward the doors, probably looking for Ezra.

  Rose dawdled near the bagging station until Nathaniel was through the line. I sighed and slowed my charge to the exit, waiting for her.

  “Thanks again. That was really kind of you,” Rose said, touching her hair, pulling it to one side behind her shoulders. I couldn’t believe it. My sister was actually flirting with the creepy wolf. I tapped her on the arm.

  Nathaniel clutched his shopping bag close to his chest. “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you want your change?” Rose asked, digging in her pocket.

  “No, keep it,” he said, with a slight smile.

  Sensing any second they were going to trade phone numbers, I nudged Rose. “We have to go now.”

  “Wait,” Nathaniel said, following them through the double doors. “I want to talk to you.”

  In the parking lot, Ezra and Gladys were loading their purchases into the back of their truck. The old guy lifted his head, sniffing the air, as Rose and I wheeled past. Then he speared Nathaniel with a glance.

  Nathaniel hesitated, but then hurried to my side as we transferred the bags to the back of the truck. “We did see something at North’s place.”

  “So you were at Ivan’s?” I motioned to Rose to take our empty cart to the corral. “Casing the house?”

  Nathaniel frowned and pushed a strand of dark bangs out of his eyes. “We were trying to get the lay of the land. My father had us hanging around a bunch of places in town. He knew the Norths had dealt with local wolves in the past. Ezra never trusted Protectors. His original pack had thought it was weak to rely on humans.”

  “And?” I said impatiently.

  Nathaniel glowered at me. “Ivan had several visitors that week. One was a guy who showed up in an SUV. Sat in the driveway for hours. I was two-legged when I saw it and I’m a little colorblind at night. It was a dark color, green or blue.”

  “Wednesday night?”

  Nathaniel nodded. “House was dark after that. We poked around, but Ivan wasn’t there.”

  “You stole the TV,” I said.

  Nathaniel shrugged, but a little smirk floated on his lips. It faded as Rose as he noticed Rose walking toward us, returning from dropping off the cart.

  “Nathaniel!” Ezra waved at Nathaniel. He turned to go.

  “Wait–– I have more questions,” I said, holding onto Nathaniel’s sleeve.

  “In our pack, when the alpha gives an order we follow,” he said.

  I let go of his arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That we respect our alpha because he’s worthy of respect.”

  I straightened. “You don’t know anything about my dad,” I growled, staring Nathaniel down.

  “He turned tail and ran, that night in the alley,” Nathaniel said, lifting his chin. “That’s cowardly. Not wolf-like at all.”

  “You threatened his life and you stole our lupine stones.”

  Rose reached us then, seeming surprised by the angry look on Nathaniel’s face.

  He glanced at her, his expression softening and then said to me, “We paid for the stones. If you were in our position, you’d do the same thing.”

  “But they were stolen from us by my lame ex-boyfriend.”

  “How is that our fault?” Nathaniel said, lowering his voice in reaction to the people in the parking lot turning to stare at us, not to mention Rose, who was frowning at him. “Sounds like you have terrible taste in guys,” he added.

  “What?” My fists balled at my sides. I was seriously considering punching him when I heard Sheriff Polson’s voice.

  “Everything okay over here?” Her squad car pulled into a space next to our truck.

  Nathaniel took a step back.

  “Yeah,” I said, waving her off. “My—friend—and I were having a little chat.”

  The sheriff got out of her car. “You’re one of the Smith boys. Opening up Frontier Lanes, right?”

  “He’s Nathaniel,” Rose said. “This is Sheriff Polson.”

  Nathaniel wiped his right hand off on his jeans and extended it to the sheriff.

  “Nice to meet you.” The sheriff shook his hand. “It’s exciting to see that old place coming back to life. I’ll be there opening night.”

  Ezra and Gladys drove up behind us and gave the sheriff a wave. Nathaniel didn’t say good-bye, he just climbed into their truck with his pack of doughnuts.

  “Can’t wait to join a league,” the sheriff called to them as they drove away. “Didn’t realize you girls knew those new folks,” she said, turning to me.

  “We don’t. Not well, anyway,” Rose said quickly.

  “Saw his father down at Town Hall earlier applying for a liquor license. Asked about his foot injury since he was hobbling around on that crutch. He said something about amputation. Farm equipment accident or something. Luckily h
e has those two sons to do the heavy lifting while he heals.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Well, we’ve got to get this stuff home. Ice cream, you know…”

  She nodded and then got back into her squad car. “Nice to have your dad back on duty,” she called, giving us a wave as she drove away.

  Rose and I hustled into Dad’s truck. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have talked to him.”

  “None of them are nice. Don’t forget that.”

  Rose nodded, glancing down as she buckled her seat belt.

  ***

  Work was fine, with Morgan showing up to visit me on my break. Seeing him, getting a kiss to break our weekend away from each other almost made the day seem all right. When I got home, Dad was sitting on the front porch, bundled up in his work parka. He showed me a smile, but it was weary, defeated.

  “I was going to ask you how your first day back went, but maybe I shouldn’t,” I said, sitting down next to him.

  He lifted a mug to his lips and I caught the scent of hot chocolate. “Fawn saved you some meatloaf and mashed potatoes…it’s good. No saffron threads.” He attempted another smile, this one a little more energetic.

  “Kind of cold out here, Dad.”

  “Yeah, but I like enjoying the night. New moon is the only time you’ll get to appreciate it like you’re used to. Man, I didn’t realize how accustomed I’d gotten to human life, how I took our lupine stones for granted.” I followed his gaze to the sky, where the moon waited in the earth’s shadow, barely visible. “The full moon for Harvest Festival is less than two weeks away now.”