That evening on the way home, the killing is wrecking my brain. When I cruise through town checking the shops before going home, I spy a red bike on the side of the road, and a girl seated in the dirt, fiddling with it. Being the gentleman, I am, I pull over.
I stop cold. My breath catches in my throat when I realize this is the same girl from the woods last night. She doesn’t know me but she obviously needs help.
I jump from my squad car and swagger over, forgetting about the murdered girl. I take a long look at the girl and her red Harley. Taught to pay close attention, I notice right away that they are hot—both the bike and the girl. “Hey, need some help?” I offer, flashing my most gallant smile.
The girl shoots me a look that says back off Buster. “No, thanks, I got this,” she whips out, and goes back to tinkering with the bike.
“Is it a leak?” I ask, being helpful.
She shoots me another look, this time, wrinkling her well sculpted brow. “Duh, that’s why oil is all over me. Now cupcake, do you mind?” She digs back in, looking for the leak.
No sense asking to be smacked down again. I turn and trot toward the patrol car, heaving a sigh and feeling like a fool. I just got smart-lipped by a girl—a girl with a sharp tongue—a pretty one at that. Wonder who pissed in her coffee? I slid into my car and start the engine, but before I drive away, she jumps up and waves me over. Now what? Maybe she forgot to jump down my throat?
When I slide back out of the car it isn’t long before she takes on a different look, one of desperation. “I’m sorry, I thought I could fix it,” she says with a scowl. “But the dang thing just spews!” She stomps her foot like a spoiled brat, her flaming ponytail swishing. “Can you please take a look?” Now those rosy lips of hers are pouting. I never could resist a pretty girl pouting.
I exhale and give her a smile, showing off my dimples. That usually works on the ladies. Hm, she’s almost smiling this time. I stride over to the bike and crouch for a quick look, feeling her eyes on me. As I watch, the girl starts to loosen up and talk. It turns out she’s a friend of Gracie Pendleton and is staying with her while looking for a job. I know Gracie from high school, she always was a secretive person, but nice as far as I know.
“Having any luck job wise?”
She shakes her head.
“Drop by the station…we need a receptionist.” She nods—still observing me work.
“That’s one huge unusual ring,” she says eyeing my finger. I tilt my head grinning. “It’s an heirloom—belonged to my late Grandfather. He came over from Germany.”
“Ahhh…but a wolf’s head?”
“The eyes are real diamonds.”
“Mmm…nice.”
I go back to tinkering. A few minutes later, I’m pretty sure what the problem is and with a few twists the leak is fixed—thanks to my skillful hands and nice curbside manner. She looks a little miffed. She probably feels like an idiot. Serves her right for being so huffy in the first place. “I think the leak’s fixed now. Give it a crank.”
The girl straddles the bike and cranks it. She turns as if to see what I think, whether it’s safe to drive now. I give her a thumbs up, but I’m not just checking out the bike. When she revs the engine and pulls onto the street, I watch her until I notice she turns toward the park. There is something familiar about her—like from the night before. Noticing that she turns toward the park, I hop in my car. Being new in town, she could get lost.
She has a mouth on her, and she speaks her own mind. I like that. She sure knows how to ride that Harley. No need to take a chance on something happening on her first day in Witherfell. Not with a hot ride like that.
Chapter 5
TALA
I gun the gas and zoom away from Officer Channing. Thanks for the help buddy, but I have things to do and places to go. A funny feeling made my skin crawl when I caught him watching me back there. It was as if he was looking at me from far away or remembering something. What could he remember? I’ve never seen him before in my life. But the thing is…my instincts say that I should know him from somewhere. Go figure.
I head out of town on a winding road, a lovely drive through the country. It will give me a chance to look around and maybe visit Grams’ grave in Weermore. Poor Grams, if only I’d taken the time to visit her more. I didn’t even make it in for her funeral. A sick feeling of guilt seeps through me as I putter down the narrow road toward the house my brother and I had inherited. Jason had missed the funeral too—he’s stationed in Germany. If only I’d been around more. It’s too late for wishing. But Grams always said if I have her memory in my heart, she’ll be with me.
I ease the bike close to the porch, hop off and set the kickstand. A stray cat jumps off the porch and runs into the woods. Grams always kept the key under her favorite flowerpot and that’s where the lawyer said it would be. When I open the front door, I half expect to find Grams standing on the other side with open arms, her hair up in a bun. She always wore an apron...and a necklace with a stone that sparkled like her eyes. She said the stone was pure white quartz—and ‘has special healing power.’ Her words are still in my memory as fresh as the day she spoke them. I could use something to remind me of her now.
The house smells musty from being closed for so long. When Grams was alive the house always smelled like fresh cut roses and home baked bread. She loved to cook, and she never let anyone leave her house without eating. She even fed the small wild animals that lived in the woods around her. Grams used to have me take them leftover breadcrumbs in the winter. “These creatures know the secrets of the woods,” she would say. “That’s why we should take care of them.”
I check all the rooms, everything looks normal, except for the furniture being gone, so I head upstairs to my favorite place, the attic. Shoving cobwebs aside, I climb the narrow staircase, recalling how much wider it seemed when I was young. Pushing cobwebs aside, I shove open the attic door and look inside. Beams of sun reach through the stained window, touching upon an old portrait, a trunk and a tall mirror sitting in the corner. The portrait is of Grams and Granddaddy. The old trunk is Grams’s. It used to sit at the foot of her bed. She always kept it locked, and I always wondered why.
As soon as I find the time, I must examine the trunk. There could be a family heirloom inside or what I used to think might be inside—treasure. I smile, remembering the wild imagination I used to have. Maybe still do? There is a lot more stuff stored up here now, hidden beneath cobwebs and the shadows. This must be where the caretaker stored the things he was unsure about. Grams’ life, everything she cared about hidden away in the attic. Even a few old herbs hang from the rafters. Grams loved drying her own tea. And she often spoke in riddles, as though she knew secrets that no one else did. I sigh, almost feeling her presence. I notice Gram's old guitar behind the door, the one she used to play for me. She tried to teach me, but back then all I thought about was playing games—not music.
I don’t have time to take a closer look today. Maybe this weekend, I think hurrying down the stairs. I slowly turn the inside doorknob—it looks like crystal and makes me recall something Grams said. “The land under and around my house contains quartz rock. It’s a natural safehaven for times of trouble past and present. And you, my dear are always welcome.” I remember I had asked why—why would I ever need a safehaven? But Grams shrugged and I never got an answer, so I figured she was just being nice.
I’m glad I stopped to check on Grams’ house—it brought back a lot of good memories. I climb on the bike and head back to town and out toward the park to look around again. Those wolves came out of nowhere. The park’s deserted, so I drive through it slowly, searching for clues as I enjoy the uhmmm vibes of my Harley. I enjoy the cool evening air filled with the fresh scent pine needles until a sudden summer shower sends me racing for home. By the time I reach the inn, I’m soaked from head to toe. I undress, hang my wet clothes on the bathroom shower rod before taking a quick nap.
I have a lot on my mind, and my slee
p is restless with nightmares at every turn. I find myself inside the old house again, but this time darkness looms through the windows and the house creaks with every step. A storm threatens and thunder roars overhead. Lightning flashes from the windows, creating shadows of beings that aren’t there. I run from room to room searching for something I never find. Then for some reason, I must get to the attic. I run up the winding stairs that never end. I run and run. When I finally reach the attic door, it opens by itself. When I step inside it closes again. The room is lit, and there near the old trunk is a stool. When I sit on the stool the trunk opens, and everything goes blank. I wake up covered in sweat, wondering why I didn’t see what was in the trunk.
I hear Gracie come in when the door clicks shut. It’s after four o’clock. She comes over to the couch dressed in a frilly yellow blouse and jeans with her hands on her hips smiling down at me. “Something happen on the way to town today?” I roll my eyes and realize that Channing has already been telling her about what happened.
“Why do guys always think they know everything?”
Gracie laughs. “How could you let someone get under your skin so soon?” Then she clams up and says nothing more about it, seeing that I’m upset.
I explain everything to Gracie, from my encounter with Channing, to the dream and the possibility of finding a job.
Gracie crosses her arms and looks all persnickety. “Leave it to you to snag a guy your first day in town.”
“I didn’t snag a guy–I just ran into one.”
“Well, it’s practically the same thing. You’re not like me, you always attract guys.” Gracie pouts.
“And you don’t, I guess. I’ll have to do something about that, if you’re sure you’re up for the struggle.” I give Gracie a goodhearted hug.
Gracie tries her best to smile but she looks sad. She is all ears, listening to my adventures. She is concerned about the weird dream, although she pretends to drop the subject to calm me. I know her too well. “It’s probably because you visited Grams’ and a lot of memories came flooding back, and you miss her,” Gracie says. “Dreams have a way of influencing our daily lives. I wouldn’t worry about it. But you shouldn’t have gone there alone.” Gracie makes her judgmental face at me. “I just talked you into moving back to town. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
We pile up together on the couch and get seriously emotional. After Gracie and I calm down, we are nearly oozing happiness. “I am so glad you invited me to come and stay with you. This is one of the best decisions I have made so far.”
Gracie agrees, listening intently and is excited for us both. Then she glances around at the wet clothes dripping on the floor, and nearly loses it. Thankfully, not much got wet or else she would have been pissed. “I’m glad Channing showed up when he did. You might still be stranded in the middle of town. I’m tickled pink that you’re looking for work.”
I lick my lips. “Well, it isn’t for certain, yet. But, I’m pretty sure I can handle the work,” I say shoving my hair behind my ears. “I hated it when I had to quit my receptionist job in Chicago—I love talking to people.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got it. I heard Mom talking on the phone. The county has been looking for a receptionist, and if Channing asked you to come in tomorrow… Just one word of advice. Don’t get your hopes up about him, I’ve known him for a while, and if he’s anything—he’s a loner. A real hermit.”
I nod. “Did you see that ring of his—some kind of gothic—a wolf’s head?”
Gracie rolls her eyes. “I know…it’s creepy—like him.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not looking for a new relationship. Not now or ever. Guys are all alike—bad news.” I learned my lesson the hard way. I’m not ready for more pain.
We order pizza for dinner and turn on the news. We’re talking and eating at the same time. Then a special report comes on. Another body has been found, a tourist that was staying in town has been killed. Looks like she got mauled by some kind of beast. And the only thing they found was her mutilated body and a red purse.
“OMG!” I murmur, dropping my pizza in the box. “How awful. What a terrible way to die.”
Gracie swallows her drink. “You’ll get used to hearing crazy stuff like that happening here. Since you’ve been gone, it isn’t the first time. Last summer, two hikers disappeared—months later their bones were found near Trundledown Bridge.”
“The old swimming hole?”
Gracie nods and keeps eating. It seems odd to me. Gracie is a people person and her reaction seems odd to me. How can she not be upset?
I shiver, losing my appetite. Could it be the same beast as before? Or...I think about the wolves that had surrounded me in the woods, could it be wolves? After dinner, we watch a horror movie that Gracie picked out, which doesn’t help my overactive imagination.
When we say goodnight, I go upstairs and sit in bed, hugging my knees. I have trouble getting to sleep thinking about killers running through the woods. The dead body, the rogue wolves—they can’t be just a coincidence. The deaths must be connected. I glance toward the window and pull my blanket to my chin glad to be home safe in bed.
Chapter 6
TALA
The next day, I wake up early, I’m not sure what to wear for an officer interview, but since it’s misting out, I decide on jeans and a hoodie. I grab a snack bar and head out the door with my fingers crossed. Witherfell police station, here I come.
I ride my Harley and when I arrive, I feel eyes watching me as I slide into a parking spot. Are they wondering who I am or what I’m doing? This is how it’s done, people. Tucking the helmet under an arm, I strut up the sidewalk and enter the building.
“Nice ride, Red,” someone cues. I turn to see two officers admiring the bike. They grin sheepishly at me.
I nod. “I’m looking for Will Channing.”
They look at each other and one points toward an office at the far end of the building. I thank them and head toward the office—my ponytail swishing with each step.
Channing looks up from what he is working on. He smiles that crooked smile of his, those blue eyes sparkling. Yes, I took a good long look yesterday while he fiddled with my bike. He doesn’t beat around the bush but has me fill out a routine form and answer a couple of questions. Then he offers me his hand. “You pass the test. We need a new receptionist. The job is yours if you want it,” he says smiling that dimpled smile of his.
I shake his hand, trying hard to present just as strong a handshake as his. “Thanks. When do I start?”
Turns out, I start immediately. Channing gives me a chart and a badge to make it official. Then he leads me around the station and introduces me to the officers. There are only two on duty: Rafe and Fletcher who seem more than anxious to meet me. I give them a half grin. They’re the same ones I met in front of the station earlier. Rafe is overly friendly and he shows me the ropes. He takes me around the office, introducing me to all the other people who work there. Funny guy. On top of that, Rafe takes me up and down the stairs of the station, explaining where certain files are kept and showing me the holding cells, how to use the register, how to bag things up, where to find things. It seems like a lot of work for a receptionist, but it’s all the usual stuff, I guess. He seems like a nice guy, and he’s good at explaining everything. It doesn’t hurt that he’s also charming and sweet.
It seems like a nice place to work; everyone is friendly and helpful—except Fletcher, who only looks up from his work long enough to nod. I figure he’s just shy. I’m a fast learner and take to my duties quickly, filing papers, making coffee and answering the phone for now.
I notice Rafe is about the same age as Channing but slimmer with light brown hair and a quick smile. He’s charming too, in an overly helpful sort of way. When he leaves me on my own, I’m glad he’s done and I’m on my own for a bit.
I help a couple of people file complaints and I answer the phone. Most of the calls are about the body that had been found. I let
people know that all the officers are busy trying to nail down the facts about the killing—they aren’t sure about what happened yet.
At day’s end, I pat myself on the back. One day on the job and I have the hang of everything.
Channing strolls around my desk and plops down in a chair. “Well, how did you like your first day on the job?” he asks in his offbeat accent.
I smile. “Nothing to it. I think this is what I was born to do.”
He drops a file on my desk. “More paperwork. Just fill out these tax forms and everything is official.”
“No problem,” I say snatching up the pages.
Channing clears his throat. “One other thing—there’s a dance tonight. How about meeting me there to seal the deal?”
There it is, one of the questions that I’ve been dreading. My eye twitches. No. It’s too soon. How can I get out of this? I don’t even have a dress. “Oh, sorry, I can’t,” I lie. “I have an appointment this evening that I have got to keep.” I see a wave of disappointment in Channing’s face.
Channing’s expression changes as he stands. “That’s fine. Just thought I’d ask,” he says walking away.
I hate to start a new job lying to my boss, but I think if I must lie for a good reason, it’s okay. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to muck up my life by getting involved with another guy. I’m happy to be working again—helps me feel settled.
CHANNING
I resist the urge to show my disappointment by clenching my fists as I stride out of the station toward the patrol car. Thunder cracks as I slam the car door shut. Perfect. I can’t shake her refusing me. Asking new girls out isn’t a habit of mine but not only is this one a hot beauty, there is something about her that draws me to her. I wonder why she must act so bad ass when I only wanted to take her out. Rain begins to sprinkle, but I’m sitting in my car waiting, watching, thinking. Mostly about Tala. Rafe went out of his way to make her feel welcome today—a little too far if you ask me. I don’t think he will bother her again…not after our little talk.
The Shadow Moon: Wolf Awakenings Page 3
