Raised by Wolves

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Raised by Wolves Page 4

by Geonn Cannon


  Ari looked back at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Your mother. Money has never been an issue for her. Aren’t you curious why that is?”

  “Inheritance,” Ari said, “not that it’s any of your business.”

  Hayden said, “Ask her, Miss Willow. Can I give you my business card? Just in case you decide you want to talk with me again?”

  “I find that incredibly unlikely.”

  She turned her back on him once more, half-expecting him to catch up with her again. She was prepared to resort to violence if necessary if he continued pursuing but, when she reached the parking lot and looked back, Hayden was nowhere to be seen among the crowd. She released the tension she hadn’t realized was gathered in her shoulders and went to her car. She touched Vivian Burroughs’ key just to reassure herself it was still there, and unlocked her car.

  The entire encounter had unsettled her more than she cared to admit. First a strange man running up to her, then the shock of him saying the word ‘canidae,’ and the final blow of asking about her mother’s money. The truth was, she didn’t really know where their money came from. It had just always been there, a constant. They lived in a nice house, they never worried about bills... and when Ari was in prison, her mother had paid the rent for their apartment and the office without blinking an eye. She knew their family had connections, she knew there were wolves in Europe who might be helping her out, but suddenly this stranger’s question shouted across a crowded sidewalk had her questioning everything she thought she knew about her family’s history.

  She looked at the key, and then at the bag of sandwiches. Whatever the answers were, she had more than enough to keep her mind busy without digging up ancient history.

  Isaac Hayden and his mysteries would have to wait for another day.

  ###

  Ari told Dale about the strange encounter while they ate their sandwiches. Dale furrowed her brow as she listened.

  “Do you think he’s dangerous?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt me. He just seemed...” She replayed the encounter in her mind. “He seemed like an excited professor.”

  Dale pursed her lips. “Hm. Well... have you considered just telling him he’s right? You know, validate all those years of studying and looking for answers. You told Diana and Lucy.”

  Ari said, “That was different. They’re our friends. We know we can trust them. We have no idea what Hayden would do with the information.”

  “Right. Remember Wayne Corbett?”

  “I try not to,” Ari said, pushing away thoughts of the man who had tranquilized her and threatened to kill her in the name of research. She started to change the subject, but then something clicked in her mind. “Shit, that’s where I heard the name Magnusson before. Corbett brought him up. That was how he learned about canidae in the first place. There was a collection of essays or something on display in...” She tried to recall what he’d said, but at the time she was strapped to a table and drugged for whatever horrible examination Corbett had in mind for her.

  Dale swiveled her chair around to face the computer. “I’ll see what Google says. Is it Karl with a C or a K?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “One S or two in Magnusson?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Dale sighed and shook her head. “Useless.”

  “My uselessness is your job security.”

  Dale grinned and scanned the search results. “Looks like Magnusson’s book is part of a private collection in Frankfurt.”

  “Kentucky?”

  “Frankfurt,” Dale said, “Germany. You need an appointment and it takes months to be approved, and the guy who owns it is pretty strict about who he’ll allow in.”

  Ari said, “It doesn’t really matter since I’m not planning to be in Germany any time soon.” She came around the desk to sit in the window behind Dale so she could see the screen. “Are there any pictures? Scans or screencaps?”

  Dale shook her head. “It says on the reservation page that no photography will be allowed. I’ll see if anyone who’s seen the book has ever summarized it or talked online about what’s in it.” She typed again. “I can also see what I can find on Isaac Hayden. Might as well find out if he’s someone you should run screaming from the next time he shows up.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind doing all this research?”

  Dale shrugged as she wrote down the names of everyone involved. “We don’t have any ongoing cases right now. And if someone hires you, I can always put this aside. It’ll be a nice little hobby to keep me from getting bored. So...”

  “So?”

  “The last part. The thing about your mother’s money. Where does it come from?”

  Ari shrugged. “I was always told it was an inheritance. That’s what she told me when I was a kid, and it just became the default answer. I never really felt the need to push for more details. But now that it’s in my head, I can’t help wondering.”

  “You could always just call her up and ask.”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head slowly. “But the way Hayden brought it up makes me... Okay, what if there is something strange about where her money comes from? We’re finally getting along for the first time since I was a teenager. When she came back into our lives, she was trying to make me dump you and she blew wolfsbane in my face to show me how dangerous it was. She’s changed. We’ve both changed. And now I have this hand grenade and I’m threatening to walk into the house and pull the pin. I want to know more before I risk losing everything.”

  Dale said, “That makes sense. Wasn’t there a guy... when Milo first showed up and you reunited with your mom, there was a guy there. Ben? Benjamin...”

  “Benjamin Moss,” Ari said. “He was a guy Mom knew who helped put that whole scheme together. I think he abandoned her when things went haywire.”

  Dale smiled. “I wonder how he feels now that we’re still together and your mom is sleeping with Milo.”

  Ari grunted and shook her head. “No, uh-uh, if we’re going to discuss that relationship at all, we’re going to call it ‘dating’.”

  “Okay,” Dale said skeptically, turning back to the computer. “I lived with them while you were in prison, and calling what they do ‘sleeping’ is very, very inaccurate.”

  Ari threw a napkin at Dale’s head.

  ###

  Over the next few weeks, Ari took on new clients and closed ongoing investigations. Work kept them both busy, so Dale didn’t make much progress on investigating Magnusson or Hayden. The mystery man also didn’t make any further attempts to contact them, which Ari counted as a victory. Dale hoped he would just forget about the encounter, but she didn’t think that was very likely.

  One case took her to Bellingham to find a deadbeat dad who was behind on his child support checks. She decided to turn it into a mini-vacation by taking Dale along and staying the weekend. Ari wanted to let the wolf explore Whatcom Falls Park, but Dale wasn’t keen on letting her run around an unfamiliar place on her own in the middle of the night.

  “What if we go during the day?” she suggested. “That way I can keep an eye on you, and it’s less likely you’ll get hurt or scooped up by animal control.”

  “So you would be walking me? Like... with a leash?”

  Dale winced. “Sorry. Is that demeaning? I didn’t mean it like that...”

  “I know,” Ari said. “I think it would be okay, as long as it’s you.”

  The park was fine, and the wolf handled being leashed better than Dale would have guessed. She was excited by all the new sights and scents to explore and ended up wearing herself out by the time they got back to the hotel. Ari transformed and fell exhausted, sweaty and naked, onto the bed. Dale undressed and stretched out next to her, watching Ari sleep. Sometimes she could see elements of the wolf in Ari’s sleeping face. A twice of her eyebrows meant she was dreaming canidae dreams. Sometimes she whimpered or grunted while her toes and fingers twitched. It helpe
d remind her that while Ari shifted shapes, she was always both sides of herself: woman and wolf, human and canidae.

  When Ari woke up, they had dinner and drove back to Seattle. They were almost to the edge of the city when Ari’s phone rang with an unknown number.

  “Hello? This is Ariadne Willow.” She listened. Dale glanced at her and saw her expression become sad. “So soon? I guess I expected... no, it’s fine. Wednesday is fine, yes. What time? I’ll be there. Thank you.”

  When she hung up, Dale said, “Is everything okay?”

  “Technically.” Ari twisted in the seat and pulled her keys out of her pocket. She held up the one she’d been safeguarding, almost as if confirming it was still there. “That was the executor of Vivian Burroughs’ estate. She’s... uh. It was tonight. She’s gone.”

  “Oh, puppy. I’m sorry.”

  “I only met her the one time, but she seemed like a great lady.”

  They rode without saying anything for a mile or so, a moment of silence for their client.

  “The memorial service is Wednesday morning. I don’t have anything that day, do I?”

  Dale said, “Nothing that can’t be moved.”

  Ari said, “Thanks,” under her breath.

  They passed under a streetlight and it glistened off the gold of Vivian’s key. She’d gotten so used to seeing it when Ari unlocked the office that its absence was going to be odd for a while. Of course now they could officially deposit the massive check Ari had gotten for keeping an eye on it, which would be very nice, and the “case” would officially be closed.

  She reached over and found Ari reaching for her, and they squeezed each other’s hand as Dale took them back into Seattle.

  Chapter Four

  When Ari returned to Vivian’s house on Wednesday, she expected the street to be packed with cars and the house to be obscured by a crowd of mourners who couldn’t fit inside. Instead she arrived to find the house as quiet and still as it was on her last visit. She checked her phone on the way up the front walk to make sure she had the right time. Nothing would be more awkward than to be standing on the porch when the mourners arrived from the cemetery. She was right on time according to the arrangements she made with the executor, so she continued on and rang the doorbell.

  It was answered by a man in his early thirties, dark hair, unshaven. He’d bothered to put on a suit, but the shirt was wrinkled and the knot in his tie was haphazard at best. Ari couldn’t tell if it was from lack of respect or the tumbler in his hand, but either way her first impression was of someone who just didn’t care. He stared hard at her, seemed to realize who she was, and ran his eyes down her body.

  “Oh. You must be the tree lady. Something with a tree...”

  “Willow. Ariadne Willow.”

  He closed one eye and pointed at her with the hand holding his glass. “That was it. Private investigator from Bitches Investigating.”

  “Investigations,” she corrected.

  “Mm. Do you prefer Dick or Bitch?” He laughed at his own joke and waved it off. “Sorry, sorry, I’ve been thinking of that ever since Mom told me she’d hired you.” He took a drink and waved her in, already walking back into the house. “Come on in. There’s drinks in the parlor.”

  Ari went inside and closed the door behind her. “You must be Preston,” she said as she followed him into the room where she’d first met Vivian.

  “I don’t know if he must be, but he frequently is.” This came from a brunette woman sitting on the couch, more poised and polished than Preston. She wore a black dress, her hair was up in a bun. She wasn’t wearing makeup and her puffy eyes were a clue as to why she hadn’t bothered. She stood and approached Ari, forcing a smile. “I’m Eleanor.”

  “Ari.” They shook hands.

  Another woman was standing against the wall between the window and the desk. She was also brunette, although it was shaded so dark it was almost black, and Ari could see a trace of Vivian’s features in her face. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she was staring at Ari with a look she couldn’t quite categorize. She wore a blazer and slacks, giving off exactly the kind of haughty mean girl energy Ari had once been helpless against.

  “That’s Elizabeth. She’s a bit rude.”

  “Fuck you, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor blinked and swiveled her head back toward Ari. “Case in point.”

  “Our mother just died. Don’t you think I’m allowed to be a little rude? Oo, can’t wait to hear the will and find out how much of my mom’s stuff I get to loot today. Let’s all have a party!”

  Preston, who had slumped in the corner of the couch, raised his glass. “Hear, hear!”

  Eleanor went to him and took the glass away. “I think you’ve partied enough for all of us.” To Ari, she said, “Mr. Dodd is running a little bit late. He had to retrieve our other sister.”

  “Big surprise,” Preston muttered, and Eleanor shushed him. “Well, we all managed to show up on time. Even the detective is here. And once again we’re all stuck waiting on Evelyn. What else is new?”

  Elizabeth said, “You got somewhere to be?”

  Preston sneered and slumped back against the couch.

  Eleanor held her smile but Ari could see she something manic behind her eyes. She was desperate to keep everyone calm and civil. She cleared her throat.

  “So, do you all live here in the city?”

  “No,” the sisters said at the same time, while Preston laughed. He said, “Evie and Ellie couldn’t wait to get away as fast as possible. Eleanor here stuck around for college, but then she headed to Philadelphia for a ‘fresh start.’ I’m the only one who stayed.”

  Eleanor’s smooth exterior cracked slightly. “So much easier to ask Mom for money in person than begging for a wire transfer.” There was a hint in her voice indicating she might be on the verge of screaming.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m the leech. I forget, which one of you turned down Mom’s offer of paying for your plane ticket and hotel so you could be here when she ended it. You?” He twisted to look at Elizabeth. “You? No? Okay, then.” He stood up and snatched his glass back from his sister. He drained it and Eleanor rolled her eyes.

  “Sorry,” Eleanor said. “We must be giving you a horrible impression of us.”

  Elizabeth said, “I think it’s a great impression. A bad impression would be wrong or misleading. This is pretty much pure Burroughs.”

  Eleanor went back to where she’d been sitting when Ari came in and sat down again. Silence fell. No one had offered her a seat, so Ari remained standing awkwardly in the doorway. Long enough passed that they heard the house settle, a quiet groaning above their heads, before Elizabeth’s attention was drawn to something out the window.

  “They’re here.”

  The front door opened and a man entered, followed by yet another brunette woman. He wore a suit, she was in jeans and a button-down. Ari assumed the man was Timothy Dodd, the executor of Vivian’s will. He glanced up and saw her, and made a quiet sound of relief.

  “Ah, the private investigator. Miss Willow? Great, so glad you made it. That means we’re all finally here.”

  He continued into the parlor, while the woman trailing behind him stopped next to Ari on the threshold of the room. Ari assumed she was Evelyn, the third and final Burroughs sister. When the woman looked at her, Ari felt a wave of déjà vu that made her look at Elizabeth and then back at Evelyn. Both of them seemed to recognize the double take and laughed in the same way - one quick “haha,” a dip of the chin, and then a toss of the head to get the hair out of their eyes.

  “I’m guessing Mom didn’t tell you Ellie and I were twins.”

  Ari said, “No, it didn’t really come up.”

  Evelyn nodded. “Well, it’s good to meet you.” She put her hands in her pockets and let her eyes travel over her siblings. “Hey Presto, I see you’re all lubed up already.”

  “Don’t call me Presto,” he grumbled, but he reached out and put his glass down on the table. Eleanor rea
ched out and put a coaster under it.

  Timothy stood in front of the fireplace and cleared his throat. “Obviously this situation is a bit unorthodox. The official reading of Vivian Burroughs’ will is going to take place at a later date when all the beneficiaries can be contacted. But I was asked to take care of this particular item as quickly as possible and in this manner.”

  “Mom always loved a show,” Evelyn muttered so low that only Ari could hear it, although Elizabeth looked over as if she’d also heard.

  “Miss Willow,” Timothy said, “if you would present the key which has been entrusted to your care?”

  Ari took the key from her pocket. It was a small gesture, but at the back of her mind she realized that simply holding it up had basically just earned her thirty grand. She stepped forward to place the key on the table, noticing that Preston scooted to the edge of the couch to stare at it. Even Eleanor stared from the corner of her eye, trying very hard to look like she wasn’t looking.

  “Excellent.” He produced a folded piece of paper. “This is a note Miss Burroughs included with her Last Will and Testament, and she would like it to be read now.” He cleared his throat.

  “To my children, in regards to Crossing-Over Place. There has been a great amount of discussion around the tapestry in recent years, no doubt brought on by my ailing health. Each of you have expressed an interest in it, either privately or publicly. It’s always been my belief that the fairest solution would be to sell the damned thing and split the money equally among you.”

  Elizabeth made a noise Ari couldn’t interpret. Timothy continued.

  “I’ve often been depressed by the thought that none of you seem to know the true meaning of the word priceless. You take it to mean the tapestry is worth whatever price you ask for it. The true meaning of ‘priceless’ is that no one can, and no one should, put a monetary value on something of such importance. Crossing-Over Place is art, it is history, and it should never be cheapened by having a price tag hanging around its throat like a noose.”

  Eleanor lowered her head and put a hand against her temple. “Oh no.”

 

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