Wolves at the Door (Shapes of Autumn, book 2)

by Blade, Veronica

  “That won’t be a problem. I have a copy of my birth certificate, too, but the last names are different.”

  “You’ll have to talk to Records about all that. I don’t know how it works, but I do know it’s going to take a while to find those records,” she said.

  “We can do the paperwork, then come back at lunch or something,” I said.

  “Lunch?” She gave me a you-can’t-be-serious look. “Oh, honey, it could take days, maybe weeks.”

  My heart sank. “That long?”

  Her tone softened as she handed me the piece of paper with her notes on it. “They’ll have to look through thousands of records, hon. It won’t be instant like we have nowadays. Don’t fret. Maybe Archives will be slow today and they’ll get lucky locating it. You won’t know until you check.”

  It was sweet of her to try to give me hope, but my guess was that she had it right with her first assumption. We’d have to find another way.

  † † †

  We filled out the forms anyway, then slogged back to the car. Zack didn’t start it up, almost as if he sensed I needed to sit and not talk for a minute. I stared out the window at the blanket of asphalt and the street lamps interspersed between cars, trying to pull my emotions together.

  With no information at all on my parents, not even a home address, where would we start?

  “It’s after nine now so we can start knocking on doors,” Zack said.

  I nodded. “Let’s drive.”

  The Mustang purred to life. Once out of the lot, he looked both ways, but didn’t choose either. To the right, a rural road stretched ahead. To the left, a gas station, a small convenience store and a handful of quaint shops scattered the street — which didn’t seem much more promising than the trees to the right.

  Zack finally made a decision and hung a left but after only few blocks, the buildings became scarcer. That’s all there was of the town? I deflated, slumping in my seat.

  The Mustang cruised along at a speed I was sure was well below the limit. He was probably making sure I had a chance to look around. But at what? We passed a stretch of farmland and beyond that, a sprinkling of houses.

  Just ahead, I eyed what appeared to be an ancient convenience store. It looked like one of those family-run places where the owner worked it himself and knew everyone in town. “Pull over.”

  Before the car had totally stopped, I was already opening the door to jump out. I bolted for the barn-like store and leaped the two steps, landing on the wide wood porch. Chimes sounded as I swung open the door. A moment later, they were dinging again and I knew Zack had come in behind me. Even without jingles, I’d know he was close.

  The smell of musty wood mingled with fresh brewed coffee. I scanned the crowded and well-stocked but tidy store, wondering what could possibly be lacking considering the shelves were packed with everything you could imagine. Bread, cereal, mayonnaise and mustard.

  I strolled toward the cash register, noting the next aisle with miscellaneous first-aid products, toothpaste and various bathroom items. At the opposite end of the store, along the wall, milk and other dairy products sat behind a glass door, safe from the heat.

  A thin man with deep lines etched into his weathered face stood behind the counter. “May I help you, miss?”

  “I hope so.” What should I say? The truth? Why hadn’t I thought to bring a picture of my mom and dad? How could he possibly help me if he didn’t know who I was talking about? “Um, this might sound a little crazy, but I’m looking for my birth parents. I was born at Oakhurst General, but I was adopted and grew up out of state. Were you, by any chance, living here eighteen years ago?”

  He smiled proudly. “I’ve lived here all my life. I’m Earl.”

  I squeezed his outstretched hand. “I’m Autumn and my parents are Richard and Patricia Nicholson. Ever heard of them?”

  “As her biological parents, they should resemble her a little,” Zack said, stepping forward.

  The old man eyed me. “Richard and Patricia Nicholson… does ring a bell.”

  Familiar wasn’t good enough. Besides, the name wasn’t exactly unusual. It would probably sound familiar to anyone.

  “If I needed anything and didn’t want to drive very far, wouldn’t I have to shop here?” Zack asked.

  “You got that right.” The man grinned, obviously proud of his store. “Only two choices. Shop here or drive at least a half hour. That or folks nowadays order online and all that.”

  “So you’d pretty much know everyone who lives within, say, a five mile radius?” Zack asked.

  “About that, yes.”

  “So, if her parents had lived here, you would’ve known them. No Internet back then.” Zack didn’t say it like it was a question. He stated it with finality, as if trying to jog the man’s memory. “Young couple with a baby would’ve come in for diapers and that kind of thing.”

  The man stared off into space and I didn’t want to distract him from pulling up the images he needed. “About eighteen years ago,” I said softly.

  “Patricia and Richard, yeah, I remember. Kept to themselves, which couldn’t have been easy since they looked like they belonged in Hollywood or something. People who stand out like that, you remember them.”

  My pulse jumped and I slowed my breathing in hopes of appearing calm. “I want to find them. Can you think of anything that would help me?”

  The old man shrugged. “They weren’t very chatty. They were here nearly a year. Once they came home with the baby, they moved away and I never saw them again.”

  Zack and I spent a few more minutes with the storekeeper, trying to squeeze more details from him, but we’d exhausted his memory. We thanked him and left.

  “Not much to go on,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat.

  “We’ve confirmed they lived here. That’s a start.” He turned down a side road, then slowed the Mustang. “There’re some houses up ahead. Let’s knock on some doors and see what we can find out.”

  Just before the first house, he killed the engine and rotated in his seat to face me. “How did you know to stop at that store? You jumped out like your ass was on fire. Did you remember it or something?”

  “Nothing like that. As soon as I saw it, I got this image of an old couple who’ve run the store for fifty years. Thought maybe they’d remember my parents.”

  “Good call.” Zack glanced around. “Thought maybe you saw Renzo and got spooked. Haven’t seen any sign of him, though.”

  “Hard to be sad about that.”

  I eyed a little blue Cape Cod style house with worn and chipped paint. Old bottles and paper littered the bottom of the chain link fence that barely contained the overgrown and yellowing grass. “What if we knock on the door and they think we’re axe murderers or something?”

  Zack laughed. It had been a while since I’d heard that sound. It was nice.

  “Girls who look like you aren’t axe murderers.” He waved a hand at me as if that said it all. “Go on. I’ll wait here.”

  My head snapped around, my eyes cut to his. “You’re not coming with me?”

  “You’re the one who brought up the axe murderer scenario.” He scratched his chin and shrugged. “They might be more willing to talk if it’s just you. I can roll down the window and listen in. If I think of something that might help, I’ll talk to you silently.”

  I nodded and reluctantly exited the Mustang. At the top of the steps, I rapped my knuckles on the door and waited. A moment later, a hairy, middle-aged man in a wife-beater opened it, a remote control in his hand. The stench of stale smoke and rancid alcohol wafted through the doorway. “Yeah?”

  “Hi.” I forced my lips to curve up. “My name’s Autumn. I… I’m looking for my real parents, Richard and Patricia Nicholson. They lived around here about eighteen years ago. Would you by chance remember them?”

  His eyes lowered to my chest and paused a moment before sweeping the length of my body and the heebie-jeebies got personal with me. “Name sounds f
amiliar. Would you like to come in? I have more beer inside.”

  I heard the Mustang door slam and footsteps on concrete.

  “Did you say beer?” Zack grinned. Pervert, he added silently.

  The man gave a short, polite laugh. “Actually, uh, I’ve only lived here a couple years. I don’t think I can help you.”

  “Well, thanks for your time,” Zack called over his shoulder as he dragged me away from the house. Once at my car, he opened the door and practically shoved me inside, then slammed the door. “What a pig.”

  “I could’ve taken care of myself, Zack. It’s not like a human can do much to hurt me.”

  “Right, while I sit here and watch? I don’t think so. The dude was slime. More than twice your age and inviting you inside for beer? Creepy. I’m coming with you from now on.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah, I do.” His voice was firm like his words were final.

  “Okay.” I averted my face and smiled.

  I felt ridiculous driving the short distance from Pervert’s house to the next one just a half block away, but we were already in the car and Zack was being way overprotective — which was actually kind of sweet.

  Zack parked and we resumed our door-to-door search.

  “Hi,” I said to the kid who answered at the door. He looked about thirteen years old. “Are your parents home?”

  “No.”

  “Will they be back soon?” I asked.

  He shrugged, looking from me to Zack, but not volunteering anything else.

  “Okay. Well, maybe we’ll come back later,” I said.

  Without saying a word, the kid shut the door. Rude.

  “Let’s move on,” Zack said.

  Deflated, I followed him down the sidewalk to the next house. I knocked, then paused to listen. It sounded like muffled voices and scrambling over a blaring TV, followed by footsteps coming toward us.

  The woman who answered looked disheveled as she tugged on the bottom of her shirt. I didn’t even want to know what she’d been doing.

  “Hi.” I smiled. “My name’s Autumn and I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for someone.”

  Her brows raised, eyes darting to Zack. She looked him up and down appreciatively. “Aren’t we all?”

  I ignored her leer at my boyfriend, explained my situation and asked if she remembered my parents.

  “Oh, honey, I would’ve been just a little girl back then.”

  Did she think I was blind? The woman had to close to be fifty years old, more than old enough to be my mom. I forced my eyes still so they wouldn’t roll. “Well, thanks for your time.”

  Heading down the path back to the sidewalk, I plastered on a big, fake smile. “We’ve made so much progress already.”

  Zack turned and blocked me from walking, grasping my shoulders. “Each house with nothing is another house we can rule out. We’re narrowing the field, Autumn. We’ll just get closer and closer. You found the guy at the store, right?”

  “Yes. But if my parents kept to themselves, it’s possible that even if we found someone else who remembers them, they may not be able to give us anything more than the guy at the store.”

  My stomach dipped. It was an awful thought, the possibility of never finding Richard and Patricia Nicholson, never knowing the truth.

  ~~~

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “I’m starving,” I said.

  The houses were spread over long distances — unlike the tract houses in southern California that were sometimes crammed so tight you practically lived with your neighbor. While we covered a lot of ground, there weren’t many people to talk to. And those who were willing to speak with us hadn’t coughed up any usable information.

  “I’m hungry too. Let’s take a break,” Zack said.

  Unless we wanted to drive back to the hotel, there were only a handful of places to eat — a drive-thru, a deli and a diner. After the long drive yesterday, I didn’t want to drive any more than we had to. And I wanted to sit and relax while someone took my order, so we chose the diner — a decision I almost regretted the moment we sat. The seats at the table were covered in orange vinyl and the place smelled of old grease. But my growling stomach became less discerning by the second.

  After we ordered, I contemplated any possible way we could speed up the search and end my suffering. Except, as soon as I got what I needed, Zack would want to leave and go back home. Then we’d have to go back to pretending.

  “Anxious to get back?” I asked.

  “Not really. But we should leave as soon as we can.”

  “What’s the hurry?” He and I were better off here, away from outside influences — like Gina. Once we returned home, Zack might totally close up. “Maybe that wasn’t Renzo behind us. I haven’t sensed any werewolves since we got here, which means we’re safe. Don’t you think?”

  When he only frowned, I barreled on. “At least here, I don’t have to watch Gina making moves on you.” I hoped bringing Gina up would trigger memories of Cameron hitting on me. I was pretty sure Cameron had accepted my rejection on Friday, but Zack didn’t know that.

  Zack stared out the big window of the diner. “With all these trees here, you’d think there’d be werewolves around.”

  Or maybe he didn’t care about me anymore. Maybe he was just trying to rescue the damsel.

  I sighed. “Maybe it’s more about the people and less about the forests. With bigger cities, it’s easier to get lost in a crowd. And doesn’t the werewolf king keep tabs on his people? If a lone werewolf were on the loose, chances are, he doesn’t want to be found, even by us.”

  Zack nodded. “But if I didn’t want to be found, I might hide out in the woods.”

  I’d store that in the mental vault in case I ever had to look for Zack. Thinking about his inevitable departure made me wonder if I was being petty over the Gina thing. Maybe he really had been just trying to help me…

  “We should consider seeing some sights before we leave. Seriously, when will we get another chance to come back here? Besides, it’s tourist season and a weekend. I doubt we’d be alone, even in the woods. If we find the information we need today, we can be tourists tomorrow.”

  “It’s your call.” But he didn’t seem thrilled.

  “Zack, I know you’re mad at me and, yes, I’m pretty pissed at you, too. But we don’t have all the time in the world, so can you at least try to enjoy this trip?”

  His jaw ticked and his shoulders tensed. “It’s not you I’m mad at. Well, maybe a little bit. It’s… everything.”

  “Like?”

  His eyes darkened. “Not now, Autumn.”

  “When then?” I waited for him to answer, then reached across the table and covered his hand with my own. “So you’re just going to be cranky? And ruin the entire weekend? Who knows when we’ll be alone together again? Could be never.”

  The realization made my stomach drop.

  He lifted his chin, his green eyes melting into mine. “Okay, let’s go sightseeing, but only after we’ve covered more ground.”

  † † †

  The next few houses were a bust, and disappointment smothered me as we parked in front of yet another house. As if weighted down, I slowly climbed out of the passenger side. “Zack, I can’t leave here empty-handed. I can’t continue in ignorance. I can’t.”

  He rounded the hood, surveying the area.

  I stayed put, waiting to see what was up. “What are you looking for?”

  “We’re getting farther away from the store with the old man,” Zack said. “Where we are, right here, you’d have to drive four miles to his store.” He flipped his thumb in the opposite direction. “Or you could go the other way and add a few minutes to your trip for a bigger store with a wider selection. We need to canvas the area where residents most likely went to his store. This isn’t it.”

  “Makes sense. Let’s bail and restart on the other side of his store.” I hurried into the Mustang with renewed hope.
<
br />   Zack pulled over several minutes later. We knocked at the first house and a bleached blonde with very big hair opened the door. I guessed her to be around my mom’s age or a little older. She wasn’t too bad looking and kept herself in shape. Especially her top half which screamed boob job and Botox.

  “What can I do for you, honey?” She curled her full red lips.

  I gave her my spiel and waited for her to tell me she’d just moved there or one of the other half dozen things we’d heard since breakfast.

  “Richard and Patricia Nicholson…” She nodded thoughtfully.

  “Somebody looking for the Nicholsons? From twenty years ago?” a deep voice boomed from behind the well-endowed blonde.

  “Yeah.” She dropped her arm and let the door swing open.

  A man appeared at her side. He wasn’t much taller than her, balding and wearing a handlebar mustache. “I remember them. Kind of hard to forget. That Patricia...” He whistled. “She was a knock-out.”

  The blonde raised one eyebrow. “My exact thoughts about Richard.” She pretended to fan herself with her hand.

  My heart raced. I’d found someone who actually knew my parents. I’d ignore the part about their hotness… Eew. “So what else do you know about them?” I bit my lip.

  The man shrugged. “They didn’t say much. Stayed inside most the time.”

  “Did they have a baby?” Zack asked.

  “Yes, though Patricia’s pregnancy was difficult,” she answered. “Spent most of it on bed rest, so we didn’t see much of her and Richard rarely left her side. They stayed a few weeks after the baby was born, then moved away. Kind of odd to just up and move with a newborn and all. Never said good-bye or anything.”

  “Do you know where they lived?” I asked.

  “Sure, they were our neighbors.” The man pointed directly behind us. “We had the best view of them.”

  “I’ll say.” The woman giggled. “They seemed very much in love, if you know what I mean.”