“The situation’s changed as of tonight,” Dad said. “An attack on local cattle Saturday night upset what was already a delicate balance.”
Scarlet’s tapping stopped. “You would have done the same, once upon a time,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile.
“That may be, but it’s complicated things,” Dad continued, choosing his words carefully. “Our town council voted that residents can shoot wolves with impunity.” He lowered his voice. “Scarlet, I have no right to ask you to forgive me. What I did was reprehensible. But if you could find it in your heart to allow my family to retain the two remaining stones through the next weekend, I’d be eternally grateful.”
Scarlet’s teeth shined in the low light, sharp and straight against the curve of her lips. “My heavens. I believe I heard an apology in there somewhere.”
“Yes, you did.” Dad lowered his head slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“I love the sound of those two words, particularly coming from you.” Her smile dimmed. “Do you know how long I have been looking for you?”
Dad snorted out a laugh. “You knew where I was.”
She lifted her chin, seemingly irritated by his claim. “If I’d known where you were, do you think I would have gone this long without hunting you down?”
“Our past might’ve influenced you to ignore my whereabouts.” Dad showed his own smile then, briefly. I started to worry he was about to get too cocky and land us in trouble. My guess that they’d been involved was probably true. I could see it in the way he looked at her. There was longing there…and regret.
“I attended the town meeting,” interrupted Morgan, probably feeling the same weird vibes I was getting. “Mum, they’re declaring open season on wolves within city limits.”
“Dreadful. Perhaps you’d all like to come home to London with us and escape this nasty backwater?” Scarlet waved a hand toward Main Street, releasing a hint of her floral perfume.
“It’s a good town,” Dad growled, though he sniffed toward the wafting fragrance. “I’ve been making sure it’s stayed that way. Until now.”
“Very difficult to tell that, George darling.” Scarlet wrinkled her nose at him.
“I’m sorry but I have to cut in,” I said, stepping forward. “Mrs. McAllister, the twins haven’t been out on their first full moon yet. They aren’t ready. We need more time.”
Scarlet barely acknowledged me and instead shook a finger at Dad. “Shame on you, not informing your lovely daughters of their heritage and traditions.”
“It’s everything I was running from. Can you blame me?” Dad took off his tweed coat, obviously getting a little warm from all the arguing. Scarlet and Dad were bickering like a couple. Morgan seemed to realize the same thing. He frowned, his gaze fixed on his mother’s pouty expression.
I put a hand on Dad’s shoulder and addressed Scarlet. “Please—the extension? We need your help with this. Wolves in this town are in trouble.”
Something flickered in Scarlet’s gold eyes. I’d like to believe it was caring, but more likely it was a flash of triumphant superiority, something like control. “What shall we do with you, Georgie?” she said, adding a tsk-tsk. “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.” She stood up from her chair, retrieving her cape from the back of the chair. “But rest assured we’ll be back after the full moon to collect them.”
“You’ll be back? So you’re leaving town?” Dad said.
“We wouldn’t lay about here waiting for that ragged bunch of bowling-alley wolves to retaliate,” Scarlet said.
“That’s a shame. We could have used your muscle,” Dad said, taking Scarlet’s cape from her and settling it around her shoulders. He reached forward to fasten the snap, his fingers lingering.
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. Morgan took his mother’s hand and led her to the front door of the coffee shop.
“If they were smart, all the wolves would leave town this week,” Scarlet said, over her shoulder to Dad.
“We can’t leave. We have lives here. I built a life in this community,” he replied.
She turned at the threshold. “Now that is brilliant.” Scarlet’s eyes narrowed and the pitch of her voice ratcheted up a few notches. “You had a life in London! You had a community there with us. But you had no qualms running from that. And then you had the gall to return and break our trust.”
“What else could I do,” Dad said, his tone soft, remorseful. “You made your choice and then I made mine.”
The air seemed to whoosh out of the room. “You really were together,” I muttered.
Morgan too was struck by the revelation. He gaped at his mother.
“The better man won,” Scarlet said, lifting her chin.
My dad looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He jammed his hands in his pockets, cold fury radiating from his stare. Now I understood why he’d hated Ramsey so much, but maybe there was some hate left over for Scarlet, too.
Morgan curled an arm around Scarlet’s shoulders. “Mum, thank you for agreeing to the extension,” he said, leading her out to the waiting car. He gave me a look over his shoulder that I interpreted as meaning that we’d talk later.
After they left, I straightened up the chairs while Dad stood at the window, looking out at the shimmer of streetlights on the stone-paved street. I got my coat from the hook near the sink. At the counter, I fixed Dad a tall to-go cup of cool water. He seemed stunned. I didn’t press him.
“At least the girls will be all right this moon,” I said, handing him the cup of water. I motioned him toward the door, so I could lock up.
Outside, cold fingers of the night breeze riffled the edge of my collar. I shivered. The orange lights and festival decorations brightened the dark, but in a garish way. Nothing seemed cheery or safe about Main Street. I slipped the keys into my pocket and followed Dad to the truck.
He scratched at his sideburns and squinted up at the slice of moon for a couple seconds. Then we got in and Dad put the key in the ignition, resting his hands on the wheel. “Maybe Scarlet’s right. Maybe we should go start over somewhere.” The shadows across Dad’s face barely hid his glassy eyes.
“No way,” I said. “You fought to have this life. We couldn’t get rid of Ezra’s pack but we’re still here. Ramsey didn’t kill you. We have the girls’ pendants for another week. We can’t give up just because some hunters riled up the town council. We can get this fixed, block the ordinance? Something?”
“Maybe,” Dad said. “I’ll make some calls tomorrow.”
As we passed Maggie’s house, I saw a light on in Morgan’s window above the garage. I was grateful he’d been there to meet Scarlet with us. And I was grateful he wasn’t rushing to join his parents in their retreat from town. He was different from them, as different as anyone could be. He was selfless, caring. And I wasn’t ready for him to leave. Not ever.
Dad caught my look toward Morgan’s window, but he didn’t say anything. We drove the few blocks home listening to an old Hank Williams song on the truck radio, each of us in our own worlds of memory and worry.
***
“I saw you speak at the meeting last night,” Ms. Wilson said, returning some papers to us in class the next day. Her earrings, silver feathers today, glinted in a pool of afternoon light falling across my desk. “Perhaps you’d want to do a piece about wildlife conservation for next month’s issue.”
“That’ll be too late. I thought maybe I’d write a letter to the city papers,” I said. “See if someone in Olympia could help stop this ordinance.”
“Good idea, but it’ll take a while to influence anyone at the state capitol,” Ms. Wilson said. “You can start with an op-ed piece in the school paper. I’ve already got an opposing viewpoint submitted.”
Alicia nudged me from the next desk. “I heard about the council meeting and asked my dad. He says you need an emergency injunction. You might want to contact the state Fish and Wildlife Department, the Department of the Interior at the national level, maybe wil
dlife advocacy groups for help. I can send you a few links. And I can look over your letters if you want me to.”
“Yeah, thanks. That’d be amazing.”
She winked. “Pre-law next year. I got you.”
Meanwhile, Ms. Wilson was at the door talking to Alex Bowman. He caught me looking and a grim smile surfaced on his lips. He shifted his messenger bag on his shoulder, then followed Ms. Wilson to the back row. He took a seat at an empty desk and she slid a copy of our textbook onto his desk.
“He’s transferring?” Alicia whispered.
“I guess so.” I forced myself to stop staring at him.
“Class,” Ms. Wilson said, returning to the front of the room. “Alex Bowman’s joining us late, but I believe he’ll be a great addition to the staff. His work in Mr. Schuman’s AP English class thus far bodes well for his contributions.”
Alicia raised her hand. “Staff position?”
“I haven’t made final decisions yet on that. Alex’s first assignment is an op-ed piece he suggested.” Ms. Wilson’s gaze settled on me and I realized then that he was going to write the opposing piece to mine, an argument why the ordinance should stand. My fingers gripped the edges of my desk. Any remaining shred of our former friendship was definitely gone.
“He’s going to argue for killing wolves,” I said, barely containing my anger.
Alicia swiveled in her seat to give him a dirty look and then turned back to me. “I didn’t think he was like that. Always seemed like a sweet guy. His father’s probably one of the ones polishing their rifles for the kill.”
That was precisely what I was afraid of. Alex, who’d once seemed like he’d do anything for me and my sisters, joining his father’s hunting mission. The editorial Alex was writing wouldn’t be used to sway public opinion, it was a direct hit at us. His father must’ve finally convinced him to go to the dark side.
“Don’t worry, your piece will be way better than his,” Alicia reassured me, misreading my reaction.
I thanked her, and for the rest of class I was one of those people who watch the clock, praying for the bell to ring. Mr. Bowman was rallying the troops, that was my takeaway from this interaction. And if he’d convinced Alex to turn against his former friends, including his crush Rose, then he’d have no trouble getting other recruits. We were in deep trouble.
***
I stopped by the sheriff’s department after school. The lobby was empty except for Deputy Mac Williams, who was manning the reception counter. Mac waved me back to see Dad, who was at his desk with a tower of file folders. He hung up the phone and pushed a chair toward me. I plunked down and told him about Alex joining the newspaper staff. He didn’t seem too surprised.
“Bowman’s a persuasive man. Alex is his son. It’s hard for a child to see their parents’ faults clearly.” His mouth quirked a little at the irony of what he was saying.
“Alex isn’t stupid,” I said. “He knows what his father is.”
Sheriff Polson came out of her office. “Hey, Turner? Do you have the North file?” She noticed me as she got closer and gave me a little wave.
Dad sat up a little straighter and found Ivan’s file in a stack. “You need it for something?”
“Town council asked for a little more background on the wolf attack,” she said, taking the folder. “Wait—why did you have the file out?”
“I had new information about a possible girlfriend. I was checking that out.” He cut his eyes at me, warning me not to say anything. “Also, Ivan’s cell phone turned up. A couple of inconsistencies there.”
“Interesting, thanks.”
Dad got up and gave me a stay-put look, following the sheriff to her office. “The autopsy,” I could hear him say. “There’s a bit about internal trauma. The ME noted that didn’t seem consistent with an animal attack. Isn’t it possible he was already dead when the critters got to him?”
“I know you feel strongly about protecting the wolves, but we don’t have the bandwidth right now to reopen the case. Besides, weren’t you the one who thought we should move on?” Sheriff Polson replied.
I leaned a little in my chair trying to hear better.
Mac noticed me moving and pointed toward the restrooms. As if having to pee was the problem, and as if I’d never been in the station before. Feigning an embarrassed smile, I thanked him and moved down the hallway toward the ladies’ room. At least it was closer to the sheriff’s office and out of the deputy’s sightline.
“I made some calls about the alleged girlfriend,” I heard Dad admit. “Would it surprise you to know that Ivan wrote her into his will two months ago? It took a little digging, since the bequest was to a real estate holding company, but I traced it back to her. He left her the building her shop is in. The North family had been leasing it to her company for years.”
“We’re talking about Delilah Gillingham, I gather”
“How’d you guess that so fast?”
The sheriff sighed and I heard papers shuffling on the desk. “Well, it couldn’t have been Maggie, and they’re the only two female business owners on Main Street.”
“And Maggie wasn’t Ivan’s type? She’s cute.”
“More like Ivan wasn’t hers. She’s had a crush on a single dad for years, but he’s too dumb to know it.”
“Oh.” I could almost hear my dad blushing at the sheriff’s blunt hint. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Mrs. Gillingham might know something about that night.”
“I’ll check into it. I need you to work on the safety plans for Harvest Festival.”
“Well, the festival is going to be a mess if everyone is walking around with rifles.”
“The ordinance states residents have to be on their own property or witnessing an attack. There’s no relaxation on rules about carrying firearms through town. So we’ll provide excellent public service and protect our citizens.”
“Sheriff—”
“George.” The sheriff made a frustrated noise. “I’ll have another look at Ivan’s file. Consider it handled.”
“Roger that.” Dad came out into the hall where I was loitering. His eyes narrowed at me, displeased with the eavesdropping. “You realize your hearing is probably becoming sharper, right?”
“You realize she’s not going to do anything with the case,” I whispered back.
“We don’t know that.” He led me out to the front of the station.
“But she’s not going to stop the ordinance.” I glanced at the time on my phone. I needed to be at work soon. “Not if she’s trying to give them proof it was wolves.”
“I used to have a few friends at Fish and Wildlife. I’ll try to get them involved.” Dad scratched at his sideburns. “I need to get back inside, start drawing up a security plan for the festival.” He looked tired, worried. That didn’t make me feel any better, though I doubted anything would, short of removing all the hunters from our midst.
***
That night I headed home from the coffee shop with a backpack of textbooks and a bag of leftover pastries. Dad loved Maggie’s poppyseed muffins and we’d had a few that were headed to the compost since they hadn’t sold in the day-old display. Warm them up in the microwave and they were good as new. And they’d be good studying food, I figured. I had a few classes to catch up in, not surprising considering how much my attention had been pulled in other directions since school started.
I headed down Main Street, noting that lights were still on in Pioneer Pawn and Mrs. Gillingham’s Mini was still parked in front. Her store closed even earlier than the coffee shop, so it seemed strange anyone would be there. I brushed off the eerie feeling, remembering her secret date from the other night. Maybe she was entertaining Mr. Gray at her shop.
Rounding the corner, I had the urge to stop by to see Morgan. It was a little weird he hadn’t texted me all day. I walked up the driveway toward his garage apartment and heard loud voices coming from the backyard. I peeked over the fence and saw Nathaniel and Morgan. “You did this!” Nat
haniel growled, advancing on Morgan..
Morgan’s stance changed into a defensive posture, his hand out against Nathaniel’s chest. “Calm down, mate.”
“Scared to take me on without the help of your daddy?” At his sides, Nathaniel’s hands twitched as if they were about to ball into fists.
I bolted through the gate and into the yard. “Don’t do this. We have to stick together or no one’s going to survive this weekend.”
Nathaniel blocked me with an arm out. Not hard, but enough to jolt me to a stop.
“Hey!” I rubbed my shoulder and glanced toward Maggie’s house, wondering if she was hearing the altercation.
When I swiveled back to the guys, I saw anger flaring in Morgan’s eyes. He discarded his jacket and then started unbuttoning his shirt. He was going to transform right in this backyard. Following his lead, Nathaniel shucked his parka and kicked off his boots.
“Oh, no,” I said, casting glances at the neighboring houses, the alley behind Maggie’s property. I heard soothing flute music coming from Maggie’s house and when I glanced at her upper level, I saw dim lights flickering in the bathroom. I hoped she was in the tub. “This is not a good idea! Please stop.”
But they were already stripped down to their underwear. This was happening! Shorts were tossed away as the guys dropped to the ground. After my first initial shock of seeing them both naked, I couldn’t watch—not because I was embarrassed—but because I understood the painful change they were about to undergo. I kept my eyes on the surrounding houses and yards, praying that no one would see us. Behind me on the grass, bones were crunching, skin stretching, hair sprouting, as the guys transformed. When the sounds stopped, I turned.
Two wolves faced each other, circling around the piles of clothes on the lawn. The big darkish gray wolf with iridescent gold eyes was Morgan. The light gray wolf, slightly smaller, was Nathaniel. They bared their teeth at each other, growls resonating low in their throats, snouts twitching. Squaring off like fighters in a ring, they moved slowly, deliberately, taking stock of their opponent.
A Forest So Deadly (Pioneer Falls Book 2) Page 18
