by Tempe O'Kun
The smaller dog lifted the pipe from his teeth and closed the book he’d been reading. “Most people aren’t interested in dusty old bones.”
“Must be a dog thing.” Max smiled, trying to be smooth, picturing this as a day on set. When the smaller dog didn’t laugh, he hurried on, gesturing to the curios. “What’s their story?”
“They were unearthed after a house fire.” He glanced out the window. “Couldn’t be identified as any known species, so they found their way to my shop.”
“What do you sell, exactly?” His claw tip traced the edge of a shelf. “And who buys it? I don’t see any price tags, just labels.”
The schnauzer just smiled around his pipe stem. An old brass clock ticked above him.
Weariness and frustration catching up, Max took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’ve just been checking around town and getting nowhere.”
“People in this town get asked a lot of crazy questions by tourists.” The old dog took another drag on his pipe. “Slow down. Take matters as they come. I think you’ll find it to your benefit.”
With a blink, Max tried to parse meaning from that statement. “How?”
“For one, it will make you seem less like another tourist looking to confirm his pet theories.”
The younger dog nodded. “I’d like to know more about Windfall itself. Kind of a…personal project. I heard it started around silver mines?”
A light of interest shone through the owner’s graying muzzle. “Silver, lumber, legend: a strange town, with strange luck. I think I have a book that might get you started.” With no more than a glance, he pulled a slim paperback from the shelf. He handed it over with a slight smile.
Max turned the book over in his paws: Windfall: A Visual History. A collection of old photographs comprised the cover. He flipped through it to find more photos, as well as timelines and painted portraits. “How much?”
“For you, twelve dollars.”
Max pulled out his wallet and handed over the cash. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The small dog pocketed the money in his vest. The clock behind him announced five o’clock with discordant chimes. “Afraid I was just closing up shop when you arrived. Stop by again, sometime.”
Nodding, the canine allowed himself to be ushered out by a dog half his size. The lock clicked after him, then the lights, dropping shadow over the collection of promising artifacts. With afternoon sinking into evening, he looked down, pleased he had at least something to show for his day’s work.
By the time Max got back to Kylie’s nostalgia shop the otter was bustling about, shelving old records and locking the cases of vintage lighters as they prepared to lock up for the night. Shane was nowhere to be seen. The husky hunched over a table, reading the book among an array of hand-painted teacups.
The lutrine walked up behind him and set a paw on his shoulder. “Anything good?”
“A freak windstorm leveled the area, like a hurricane or a tornado or something.” Max flipped to a map of the devastation. “It stripped trees out of the ground for miles, blew some out to sea. Some locals came up to investigate, found silver veins exposed at the surface, and plenty of downed trees for lumber. Town sprung up right then and there.”
“Huh.” She blinked, unsure what to with that chunk of history. “Not sure what that tells us, but it’s a good start.”
He pocketed the book. It was an interesting start for a little town, but it would have been rude to continue reading with someone so pretty to talk to. “Have you noticed the locals being…cagey?”
The otter shrugged. “Not really, so long as the subject is my crazy family or my haunted house.”
The dog nodded. “To be fair, I only talked to the people with something to sell.”
She giggled, sprawling over him a bit. “And you thought they’d be founts of information?”
A sigh deflated his chest a fraction of an inch. “I couldn’t tell if they really believed something was going on or if they’re just used to implying that to tourists.”
Kylie watched Shane slink into the back room, carrying a box of decorative ceramics. “Yeah, they do that.” She waited for the cat to disappear through the stockroom door. “Everybody swears something weird is happening, but they all insist it’s their kind of weirdness.”
The husky mulled the notion over. “What’d you think it means?”
She ran a paw over an old photograph of a silver mine. “I think it means we keep digging.”
The two of them lounged on the steps of the sprawling back porch of Bourn Manor, wary eyes on the woods on the other side of the scruffy, neglected grounds. Walking Kylie home had lost the simple pleasure it’d had yesterday, now that spiky alien monsters seemed to dwell in every shadow. He noticed an unnatural stiffness to her posture, which left her only about as flexible as he’d be after mastering yoga. Putting an arm around her, he raised his ears. “You okay?”
“Sorry.” She smiled and leaned into his warmth. “Just stressed out. I wish we could find out more about…what we saw, without confirming to the town I’m another in a long line of crazies.”
He lifted her chin with a gentle paw and kissed her lips. “You’re not crazy. If nothing else, we know that now.”
That put a squirm back in her body. She hooked a leg over his lap, getting comfy. “Thanks, Maxie.”
“And neither were your ancestors.” His eyes swept the forest, just to be safe. “You just come from a long line of monster detectives.”
The lutrine brightened. “See, that sounds so much better.”
He patted her shoulder and thought for a moment. “Or it turns out that bone fragment was covered in mercury or something and we’ve both been hallucinating. But at least we can be crazy together.”
The otter patted his denim-covered thigh. “Yes, at least we have that.”
His tail drummed the porch railing. “I totally just kissed you.”
“You did.” A grin, then she hugged him tighter.
“It’s weird how natural this is.” The husky looked her in the eyes. “Kylie, what are we doing? Are we…dating?”
She shrugged. “I guess? Assuming paranormal research counts as a date.”
“Is this the whole reason you suggested I come visit?” His head tilted in amusement.
She cleared her throat, scrupulously studying the floorboards. “Uh, possibly?”
His muzzle dipped and bumped his nose to hers. “Can I kiss you again?”
She grinned. “Definitely.”
— Chapter 12 —
Exploring
Nightmare clenched Kylie’s jaw, leading her in feverish loops. Shouting, peppered with unpredictable whispers, shook the landscape of her dreams. The language was not her own, or any that she’d ever heard. Her mind’s eye strained at flashes of living machines and spidery scrawls.
She thrashed awake. In a twisted sprawl on tangled sheets, she stared at the dark ceiling. Her whole face hurt. Her teeth, in particular, almost felt like they were buzzing, vibrating at some deep, unknown frequency. She groped her way to the bathroom, getting a glass of water in the dim starlight, letting the cool liquid clear her head a little. Her nerves still hummed with energy. Halfway across the room, she paused on the carpet. With unsteady paws, she padded over to the Crazy Wall, wondering how much of it was still valid. How many were right? How many were actually crazy? Which list was she going to join?
Eventually, her heartbeat calmed and her hands slowed their fidgeting. She’d had stress dreams before, but never this chaotic, this strained. Her stupid brain could’ve at least had nightmares about the alien monster she’d seen—that would’ve made sense. Sleep; she needed a good night’s sleep to put this behind her. In the morning, she could approach this rationally. Max would help with that. For a moment, she considered heading downstairs and demanding he comfort her, but the dog was probably fast asleep. She’d feel silly, making a big deal over a bad dream.
Crawling back into bed, the otter rolled up in a prot
ective tube of blanket. Her muzzle buried in the pillow, she focused on taking deep breaths. Sleep returned slowly, as if waiting for her defenses to slacken again.
Days passed without them finding any sign of the monster they’d seen in the woods. Cheery summer sunbeams shone onto the carpet from the living room windows. Kylie oozed over the sofa, straightening her whiskers. A breeze curled in through the curtains, carrying the day’s heat into the evening sky.
The door creaked open to admit Max bearing grocery sacks. “You won’t believe who I ran into at the store.”
“The monster?” She flashed him a look of faint hope, still laying upside down.
“Mr. Madison from the store next to yours. He’s organizing some kind of Strangeville event, wants us to sign some merchandise.”
“I don’t believe it!” She tumbled off the sofa and sprung to her feet. “Cindy’s dad? Tell me you said no.”
The dog shrugged. “I threw him a bone. I figured it’d do us good to get out of the house for a few hours.”
“I’ve been avoiding him since I moved here.” Standing, the otter slithered in irritation. “And that’s hard when you work next door to someone.”
“You don’t have to go.” He set a large paw on her slim shoulder. He seemed a little sad about going alone. “But I did already text Karl.”
A mutter of dismay escaped her muzzle. This is what she got for sending the canine out alone. “Karl’s not really a problem. Cindy is.”
“You’re going to be living here for the foreseeable future.” His ears rose. “Best to start smoothing raised hackles now.”
Kylie crossed her arms. “I am not gonna hang out with Cindy in the heart of her lair.”
Kylie sat at a card table, signing t-shirts in the heart of Cindy’s lair. Max had used his sad puppy-dog eyes on her. Totally unfair. She smoothed her sundress and took some comfort in the fact that Cindy hated her being there just as much. Between that and being next to Max, she found it easy to put on a smile.
Meanwhile, the spaniel’s sugar queen facade cracked to a scowl whenever she thought no one was looking. Her father had roped her into helping. She served snacks provided by the Windfall Chamber of Commerce, and dropped off by the handyman fixing Bourn Manor. Her dad even insisted she put on the store uniform, so she’d compromised on a shirt two sizes too small.
Max sat beside his former co-star, wagging all the while and discussing the finer points of Strangeville lore with fans. He’d been swarmed since the event started because he was new in town and doggedly eager to talk about the show. About a dozen fans had found their way to the store; the rest seemed to be normal locals wanting to get to know the new celebrities, or just people drawn in off the streets by the smell of brownies.
She leaned to whisper in the husky’s ear. “I thought it would just be Karl.”
He woofed a little laugh. “Would you rather it just be Karl?”
“Not complaining.” She signed a poster.
The rhino stood in the knickknack aisle, directing wayward fans with a mobile phone and pure glee.
Kylie surveyed the crowd. All the fangirls, and some of the fanboys, wore tan vests of varying degrees of fidelity to the one she’d worn on Strangeville and afterward. “If we don’t do something, fishing vests will become some sort of weird uniform in the fandom.”
He elbowed her gently in the ribs. “Afraid that people will steal your signature look?”
“It’s practical! I can keep all kinds of stuff in there. As opposed to this thing, which has no pockets at all and is just generally useless.” She tried in vain to flatten out the wrinkles that two hours of sitting had put in the thin green fabric of her sundress. Max’s focus shifted to follow her hand as it traced the curves of her belly and hips. Their eyes met and they both flushed and tried to hide a smile
The canine cleared his throat with a grin. “Anyway, I think you just had the easiest costume to duplicate; red leather biker jackets are expensive.”
“It still only looks right on a porcupine to me.”
Several of the fans lit up at the mention of the studio-mandated badass porcupine. A wolf brushed pink hair from her eyes. “Is Damon’s actor gonna be here?”
“Nah, Max and I just happened to be in the area.” The otter waved a paw. “Last I heard he got a role in some experimental indie film.”
“A room with a view with a staircase and a pond type of movie.” Max slouched to lean on the table, his voice a gentle rumble. “Very existential.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd.
Scribbling her name onto the back of an “always listen to Cassie” pin, the lutrine smirked. “Last time we invited him to a Strangeville event, he was in some desert, shooting dream sequences where he drags metallic cubes over sand dunes. And pretending he couldn’t get phone reception.”
The husky shrugged. “He seems to think the show hurt his reputation as a ‘serious actor’.”
As the event wound down, Karl shook both their hands with frantic joy. “Thank you guys so much for being here. It’s like having StrangeCon in my backyard.” The rhino shook a cardboard box of game pieces. “And my friend’s going to love that you signed his prototype Strangeville board game. See you later guys!”
Kylie leaned against the car and watched the crowd break up toward restaurants and parking lots. “I admit I got a little burned out on Strangeville after that last big publicity push.” She smiled up at Max. “But this was fun. I mean, why’d we do the show if we didn’t want people to enjoy it?”
He chuckled. “Karl changed your mind?”
“He’s very…earnest.”
Max watched the rhino bounce along at the head of the pack. “There’s a little Karl in all of us.”
Her lips quirked as the rhinoceros lead a few other stragglers in an a cappella rendition of the theme song. “Yeah, though there’s nothing but Karl in Karl.” She tilted her head at the bathroom. “Be right back.”
He nodded, wagged, and started neatly packing away their pens and posters.
Smiling, the otter bounced toward the back of the store. The whole affair had been a lot less stressful than she’d remembered previous press events. Granted, there’d been no formal media and only the most informal of planning. She felt pretty good. Unfortunately, her path led past the the till, which brought her within range of a certain cocker spaniel.
Leaning on an elbow behind the cash register, Cindy yipped snide laugh. “What a bunch of losers. And you’re a loser for being their loser-queen.”
“At least they care about something.” The otter lashed her thick tail. “What do you even do in your spare time?”
“Oh, I have hobbies. Thinking of taking up a new one right now, actually.” She peered down the counter at the hunky canine sorting pins and postcards into the promo box.
Kylie rolled her eyes and started coming up with a retort when her bladder reminded her why she’d gotten up. Pressing her knees together in defiance, she stood her ground. If things got ugly, maybe she could pee on something of Cindy’s—that was a dog thing, right? She tossed a thin smile onto her muzzle. “Is it not being a bitch?”
“Being a bitch is an asset in this hobby.” She leveled a superior glance at Kylie. “Everybody knows interspecies flings are a stud’s last resort.”
Rage boiled up in Kylie like a scalding hot spring. Her fists balled up as she suddenly longed for a choke chain.
Before the lutrine could squawk more than a sputter, Cindy’s father appeared from between two aisles, clapped a paw on each of their their shoulders, and leaned between them. “Hey you guys! I bet the two of you have become great pals, what with all the time my angel-muffin spends outside the store gabbing with you.” He yapped an oblivious chuckle.
For the first time ever, Kylie and Cindy felt the need to agree on something. Both grimaced and assured her dad: “Yeah, great…yeah.”
“Great!” He patted both of them on the arm and drifted onward to drum up more business.
> The otter, meanwhile, scampered off to the restroom before anything else uncomfortable could befall her.
As evening sunlight burned beyond the reach of branches, Laura stood on the porch chatting with the handyman beaver, complimenting him on how fast his roofing had progressed. Inside, at the kitchen table, Kylie hunched over her laptop as it played the video from Max’s phone, frame by painstaking frame. Low resolution, wild camera movements, and the lack of any sign of the monster on film conspired to drain her of all enthusiasm. Slouching, she rubbed the strain from her eyes and popped the video back to the beginning to have another look.
Max set a heavy paw on her shoulder. “You’re allowed to take a break.”
“I need to know more about…” She glanced out the window at her gabbing mother. “…you know.”
“Nobody’s been mauled by a monster this week.” The husky stepped up behind her chair. “Or any previous week we know of.”
She sighed, leaning against him. “Yeah, you’re right. We need a night off.” Her gaze flicked up to meet his. “You’re on vacation. You should have nothing but nights off.”
“I’m happy to help you, rudderbutt.” He kissed her hair. “C’mon, let’s go get set up.”
Kylie grabbed her laptop and headed to the living room. She sprawled on the sofa, leaving just a slice of room for the husky beside her. “Did we watch Ape X?”
Max entered from the kitchen, carrying a clam juice and a root beer. “If it’s the one where mountaineers dynamite a yeti, yes.”
“Let’s see…” She scrolled through her list of movies. “We could watch Platypus Platoon or Please Stand By…”
His eyes caught on the laptop screen. “Hang on. Why do you only have one episode of Strangeville?”
The otter sputtered a fluttered chitter, her webbed fingers grasping at justifications. “They take up a lot of room! I had to prioritize.”
