The Howliday Inn

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The Howliday Inn Page 9

by Zoey Kane


  “How about we all go back to our suite?” she said. “There’s a chill in the air tonight. Care for some hot chocolate?”

  “That would be wonderful. I’ll get the kids in on it.”

  After the song, the foursome gathered their things from the booth. When they headed for the door, the dancing couples stopped and applauded, obviously thanking them for having taken care of Jack. The Kanes waved goodbye with pretty smiles.

  The ride home was filled with mostly quiet talk between the couples. The headlights bounced their beams over the uneven gravel road. Lowe was taking it slow and easy for a comfortable ride in his warm station wagon. Zoey moved closer to Lowe, sliding her arm around his shoulder as he drove. Claire and Noble were very comfy in a cuddle, contentedly watching the yellow glow of lights on the road.

  “I had a really good time,” Claire said to Noble as they were nearing Moonshadow Inn.

  “Count me in on that,” he agreed. A very quiet “Ahrooo” followed, beside her ear. “That’s me wanting a little kiss. May I?”

  “Are you going to lick my face?” she asked with a grin.

  “Maaaaybe.” He moved in, softly pressing his lips to hers.

  Upon parting, Claire felt heady. “That was very pleasant.”

  “Just pleasant?” His eyes sparkled.

  He was moving in for another thunderbolt kiss when Zoey said, “Look there!”

  On the side of the main road, a wolf walked out of the gray shadows and into the spot of headlights. He was injured. Blood streaked red across his neck and down his chest. He stood there looking at the car that had come to a stop. Zoey opened her door, calling, “Ranger boy, come here!”

  The wolf came trotting.

  “I thought he was dead,” Claire said, sitting up tall in her seat. “I hope that is Ranger, Mom, and not some vicious predator.”

  The wolf leaped inside beside Zoey and went straight for her neck… to lick it.

  Claire yelped, thinking her mom was going to get eaten. The wolf’s gold chain glinted in the moonlight, telling her it was definitely Ranger. She took a deep breath, and so did the others. “Wow, Mom. Jack has some ‘splainin to do.” Claire reached over to pat the top of the dog’s head. “Ranger, good boy. You’re supposed to be dead. Hm, but you do have some sort of wound on your neck.”

  Zoey reached over and pulled the door shut.

  “Well, I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Lowe said, “but somebody just ran back into the brush, headed for the woods.”

  “A man?” Zoey asked. “What will we do? I’d feel better if there was some safe place to put Ranger. After everything that went down tonight, I can’t help but think he’s in danger.”

  Lowe reached over to pet the wolf, and that was met with a threatening growl. “Evidently, he has his preference… and that would be you and Claire.”

  “Okay,” Claire determined. “Let’s take him home with us, Mom. We can figure out what to do better tomorrow.”

  “All right.” Zoey nodded to Lowe, who stepped on the gas.

  In the distance, a branch sprung back where someone was watching them leave.

  *

  The foursome’s mission was to sneak the wolf up the elevator into the Craggy Moon suite. Joseph spotted them, and the Kanes explained. He went to get a big piece of steak for Ranger with a big smile on his face. Zoey also tipped him twenty bucks, which made the adventure all the more interesting.

  Up in the suite, after taking a good look at Ranger’s neck wound, they found it was superficial, not deep. So the rest of that evening, he gratefully took bites of his thick slice of steak while lying in front of a softly burning fireplace. His eyes were fixed in a faraway gaze, and Claire couldn’t help but think something was on the wolf’s mind, worrying him.

  The Carsons sipped hot chocolate and snacked on cinnamon rolls. They enjoyed talking over the crazy events of the evening. After a while, everyone was getting a bit tired, so Lowe and Noble asked if they could come by the following day sometime to see how things were going and help in any way they could. They shared warm hugs before leaving.

  Before they went to bed, a call came through to the Kanes' landline. It was Stewart. He wanted to take Zoey up on her offer for a nice lunch. “How about we meet up tomorrow at Rottenwood’s Kilgory’s Saloon?” she asked. “It’s actually more of a place to lunch or have dinner than have a beer.”

  “With a bunch of werewolves?”

  “That’d be the one,” she said. “Just tell them you’re with us, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll do it as long as I have you two to protect me.” His voice shook.

  “No problem, kiddo. We’ll see you then.” Zoey hung up the phone. Stretching, she said to her daughter, “I think we should drive out toward Jack’s tomorrow. Are you up to it?”

  Claire thought about the bar fight. She scratched the back of her neck, sitting in her red silk PJ’s.

  Zoey’s light brown eyes widened expectantly.

  “Oh, I don’t trust him. He’s a goof ball.” Claire’s face scrunched. “But yes, I’ll go.”

  “We have a good excuse—news that Ranger is alive and well. And then we’ll go to Smiley Jack’s and have breakfast afterwards. This way, we can see what he says.”

  “I’m wearing long sleeves and high boots. I want to be ready for a fight or flight.”

  “Alright then, me too. I’m not taking my purse. I don’t want to wrestle with it.”

  “Okay. Me too. One thing we’re forgetting, Mom.”

  “What?”

  “What’re we going to do with Ranger? We’re not giving him back to Jack… yet, anyway, and he’s going to need to go potty.”

  The two turned and stared at Ranger, who gave an innocently sweet doggie expression.

  THIRTEEN

  The next morning, the elevator doors slid open to the grand lobby. Out stepped Zoey, then Claire, and then Ranger. They walked as if in a movie’s slow-motion sequence, with hair blowing back dramatically and the wolf walking in a synchronized swagger. It was the big, bad and the beautiful. The mother and daughter looked pretty good, too.

  Clifford jumped out from an office in front of them. He was wearing wolf-paw slippers. “Where be you going with one of my family?” he asked.

  “We be… are… going out to breakfast,” answered Claire.

  “You taking a wild and vicious wolf like myself out to breakfast? Interesting concept.”

  Zoey said, “We fear he’s in danger of being hunted. We’re trying to keep him safe. We don’t know what else to do with him, and he likes being with us.”

  Clifford howled. “That’s because he’s a wolf.” His smile crinkled the corners of his green eyes. “I know what to do.”

  “Okaaay, what?” Zoey asked.

  “I live in a big room, not a closet,” he said with an excited nod. “Ranger can come and stay with me ‘till there be no more danger.”

  “We may need him back tonight,” Claire said, unblinking. “He’s our protector.”

  “Done!” said Clifford.

  “Ranger may not want to come with you. He’s particular,” Zoey pointed out.

  “He knows me. We’ve run the hills together a couple of times.” With that, Clifford said, “Come, Ranger. Let’s go potty,” and he walked off, followed by Ranger at a happy trot.

  “Well! That takes care of that,” Zoey said happily. "I only wonder what he means by let’s. Will they both be walking in circles out on the lawn?”

  “Sounds perfectly reasonable when it comes to Clifford, Mom.” Claire shrugged.

  “Wait, I forgot I want my key card out from my purse.” Zoey left and soon returned, wearing a sweater jacket and carrying a glove and a piece of paper. She unfolded the paper. “I forgot I put these in my back pocket during the fight last night. They dropped out of Jack's pocket. We can return them.” She stood for a moment, reading the paper.

  “Well, what’s it about?” Claire asked, peeking over at it.

  “It says, ‘Lowe
, here’s that copy of the newspaper article you asked for.’ It has a timestamp from a city library… not around these parts.

  “Two bags of stolen cash,” Zoey continued to read, “were found in a hollow tree and returned to the bank. However, five barrels of Philadelphia mint silver are still missing!” She looked up. “Still missing is underlined in red.” Zoey had a confused and unbelieving look in her eyes as she assessed what she had just read. “This belongs to Lowe, not Jack. Hm.”

  “Silver dollars… The paper was dated 1936.” Claire picked up her smartphone “I’m glad they have Wi-Fi here,” she said, and began typing. She found what she was searching for. “It says that, depending on whether or not they’re in mint condition, they can be valued anywhere from $340.00 to $32,000.00.”

  “So, that kind of enlarges the view of everything, Claire.” Zoey pursed her pink lips. “There’s a fortune at stake here. I wonder who knows about this other than Lowe…”

  “Lowe…” Claire echoed. The two of them realized there was more to Lowe than they’d supposed. “And if Lowe, then Noble.”

  Zoey handed the article to Claire. “Yes, that paper and this glove fell out of his pocket, not Jack’s, in the tussle. Anyway, I picked it up and put it in my back pocket and forgot about it because of all the craziness last night.”

  “Okay, then. Are we still going to Jack’s?”

  “Let’s go to Smiley Jack’s and think all this over,” Zoey said. “I’m sure they’re open early because of travelers. We can make up our minds on what to do then.”

  The duo was about to head out of the lobby when in came a man with a suitcase in hand. He stood out from the rest of the guests—the way he walked, with an air of business arrogance. His hair was thinning, his small eyes peered from behind metal-framed glasses, and his lanky body was encased in a navy tailored suit. When he got to the desk, he said to Barney, “Inform Mr. Martin that Mr. Worsen of Market Hall Finance is here to see him as soon as possible this morning. He knows what room I’m in. He can call me there for a meeting time.”

  “Yes, sir. Would you like help with your baggage?” Barney passed him a key card.

  “No, I’m fine there.” Mr. Worsen took the key card, a ruby ring rivaling Zoey’s glistening on his index finger. “Oh, and by the way, I need to get hold of whoever is spokesman for that Rottenwood community. I need to inform them my company is buying up that dilapidated village for a project.”

  “I don’t know who that would be,” Barney said. “Perhaps Mr. Clifford Martin would know. Especially for that community.

  “Especially?” he repeated in a curious tone.

  Zoey approached Mr. Worsen, and Claire followed. “I believe I can help you there,” she said with a congenial smile. “My name is Zoey Kane. “Lowe Carson is a friend of mine. He’s the spokesman for that community.”

  The man turned and peered at Zoey, sizing her up. “I would appreciate that, Ms. Kane. You have his phone number?”

  “All I can do is leave him a message and he will return the call,” she said, remembering with amusement the tree he’d have to climb.

  “Here…” The banker put his suitcase on the counter. “Let me give you a pamphlet with my phone number, in case you see him or talk to him.” He opened the suitcase. Inside was a spare dress shirt and underwear, but also paperwork in the lid’s pockets.

  Claire discreetly grabbed hold of her mother’s arm and nodded toward the case. There, in the corner of one of the pockets, was the 1936 newspaper article. The same as Lowe’s.

  The two shot each other a surprised look for that unexpected revelation. “Is this your first time here?” asked Claire.

  “Goodness, no, young lady. I have some new business with the owner of this establishment, since the death of his partner. We will probably be taking over Moonshadow Inn. It’s financed through our company.” Worsen hardly took a breath before continuing, “Old man Martin seems unfit to handle a business such as this.”

  “Oh,” Zoey inquired, “is the Inn behind in its payments?”

  “Not right now. However, that is inevitable. We’re talking about a man who thinks he’s a wolf.” He laughed a condemning guttural laugh. Then he eyed the mother and daughter up and down. “Perhaps you two would join me for drinks tonight,” he said, chin raised, looking down his nose again with tiny pupils.

  “That’s quite an idea,” said Zoey, searching for the right words to decline. “I see your number is here on this pamphlet. If there’s extra time for such a thing, I’ll give you a call.”

  The Kanes shared a private glance at each other which meant “Never gonna happen.”

  Thankfully, Mr. Worsen seemed to be okay with that answer. He grunted as he lifted his suitcase and headed for his room.

  “That was just eerie,” exclaimed Claire with a shudder.

  “I know. Is that something we can walk off?”

  FOURTEEN

  It was still dark at 6:15 a.m. As Zoey and Claire were driving toward the diner, the two noticed a small glow above the trees over in Rottenwood’s direction. They decided to take a quick detour to see what was up.

  As they were approaching Rottenwood Road’s old buildings, the orange glow became more visible. No one was out on the boardwalk, and there didn’t seem to be anyone up and around yet, anyway, so they continued down the road. It wasn’t long before they saw a corner of Jack’s ranch house up in flames. Horses were whinnying, scared in their stables.

  “Uh-oh!” Zoey stepped on the gas. When they approached the house, Jack’s car wasn’t there. “He’s probably at work already,” Zoey surmised. The fire was crawling across the brush, headed for the stables. “We need to get the horses out of the barn and into the paddock over there!”

  She swiftly parked, flung open her door, and took off running without shutting it. The smoke was already thick in the air, and the blazing flames crackled menacingly loud. Zoey’s eyes dashed around in search of a hose, but she didn’t see any.

  Her heart beating hard, Claire began muscling the barn door open. She grunted as it slid to the side with a loud creaking sound. The horses were stamping nervously around their stalls. Her mother was at her side the next moment, dread in her eyes. By now, the fire had reached the edge of the barn.

  “Let’s get them out of here, fast,” Zoey said, sprinting inside. Flames licked the side of the barn. The inside was quickly filling up with a thick tan smoke, making it harder to see; it was like looking through a dense fog. “It’s a good thing Jack leaves halters on his horses!” Zoey yelled and hacked a cough. “There’s leads down by each stall there, Claire.” She pointed to the ropes with clips. “Be careful. Fearful horses are hard to handle.” Zoey reached into the stall and clipped the lead onto a horse’s halter before opening its gate. Ivan or Lance pushed through, nearly knocking her over.

  Claire led the other horse right behind his twin. The Kanes successfully trotted the frightened horses over to the paddock, safely away from the fire. Claire removed the lead and off the horses went. As Claire was shutting the gate, the horses were running and throwing their heads in distress. She felt for her phone and realized she had left it in the car. The acrid smell of smoke was stronger now, as the flames had climbed up the corner of the barn and were creeping over its roof.

  As Claire ran to get her phone, Zoey ran to save Pepper, her long hair whipping back and forth. As Zoey entered the barn, the hayloft exploded in flames. The roar of the fire caught Claire’s attention. She flashed her eyes around the darkness and spotted her mother’s silhouette inside the barn.

  “Mom! Come back!” Claire started running after her. “Leave the horse if you have to save your own life! Get out!” she hoarsely yelled with all her strength. Her eyes stung with fearful tears as her boots slammed against the unruly forest earth.

  Her mother disappeared deep within what Claire imagined to be a fiery tomb. Still running, she cried, “Why do you have to be so stupid, Mom? Risking your own life! Mom?! Mom!”

  Out of the smoky b
arn burst her mother riding Pepper, leaning over the horse’s neck with determination wrinkling her brow, her gaze fixed. “Claire, open the gate!” The barn exploded again, now becoming fully engulfed in flames.

  Claire hurried and yanked open the corral’s cold gate. Pepper ran by with a whoosh, hooves throwing up dirt. The startled mare’s head had to be pulled down a couple times to get the lead unhooked. Finally, as her sooty mom was walking out with a hitch in her step, Claire locked up the gate with a sigh.

  Zoey said, brushing off her pants, “Pepper wouldn’t get out of the stall until I mounted her and gave her a couple of good kicks.”

  “I’m mad at you!” Claire peered angrily at her.

  That was not the response Zoey was expecting. Astonished, she asked, “What on Earth for?”

  “Because you scared me.” Claire’s big eyes turned red again, tears threatening to spill.

  “It’s over now, sweetie. I’m fine.” Zoey gave her worried daughter a little hug, patting her.

  “You think so, Mom? Take a look behind you.” Fire reflected off her dark brown irises.

  Zoey turned to look over a shoulder. “Oh, my gosh! Let’s go,” she urged. They started running again, this time in the direction of the house. “Can you see any hoses?”

  “There’s one!” Claire pointed to the side of the house, where a hose lay rolled up behind a bush.

  “Okay, turn it on. I’ll see what else there is.” Zoey trotted along the house.

  “I forbid you from going into that house, Mom.” Claire stopped in defiance. “Let me go back to the car and call 911.”

  Zoey cocked her head. “Remember, you won’t get service out here in Rottenwood.”

  A siren wailed across the dark morning sky. “Aha!” Claire burst. “What’s that? A siren?”

 

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