by Clare Revell
Meredith pushed back her chair. “I remember him. His picture was in newspaper cutting I found. There was a photo of all of us, along with this fake report of Dad killing everyone. Did my brother die, too?”
There was a long pause.
Gramps rubbed his arm in the sling and wouldn’t meet her gaze. He hadn’t spoken, not even to say hello, since she and Jeremiah had arrived.
Meredith looked at everyone, and then stood when no answer was forthcoming. “If you won’t tell me, then I’ll find someone who will.”
“I’ll tell you if you sit down.” Grannie tilted her head. “You are so like your father, same hair, eyes, mannerisms, even your music. Your father charmed my Lizzy with his music. I tried telling her he’d never make a decent husband, but she wouldn’t listen to us and insisted they could make it on their own terms. It was only after Peter was born that they returned to Paradise. They needed family after Peter’s diagnosis. Your father got a job in the forest as one of the rangers.”
Meredith held in the sigh of frustration. She didn’t want a history lesson. She wanted the truth. “How old was Peter when they died?”
“Fourteen,” Grannie said. “He wasn’t an easy child. Your father and mother named him after that piece of music. Peter and the Wolf. He even raised a wolf pup he found. It was his male wolf that killed your parents.”
Horror and disbelief rose, mingling with bile. She swallowed. “And Peter?”
“After the incident, we placed him in an institution.”
“He’s crazy,” Gramps interjected. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing or saying sometimes. Your father’s grandfather had schizophrenia. It seems to run in the male line of the family.”
Grief replaced some of the horror. “I want to see him. He was just a child. He must feel abandoned.”
“Real life doesn’t work that way,” Grannie sighed. “As much as we love you, you have to leave town. Go back to London. We’ll meet you there next week.”
Meredith looked at her in shock, her stomach clenching. “But it’s Christmas. I was to come here for the first time in years.”
If she went to London and her grandparents didn’t come until next week, she’d be spending Christmas alone. As appealing as that idea had been, now it was the last thing she wanted.
“Things change. I’m sorry, dear, but for your own safety, you need to return to London immediately.”
“Why am I in danger? What aren’t you telling me?” There was no answer from either of her grandparents. “Fine, I’ll go to London.” She stood, her heart breaking with rejection all over again. “I will head over to Mrs. Thorne’s and pack my things.” She moved to the door. “Have a good Christmas.”
****
Jeremiah stood and paced as Meredith left, torn as to what to do. Should he go after her, do the job he was paid to do or clear up this mess once and for all? “Why not simply tell her the full truth instead of just part of it?”
Maggie shook her head. “It’s better if she doesn’t know he’s wandering around the woods somewhere. Once he’s back home where he belongs, where I can keep him safe…”
“I don’t believe this.” His stomach churned, fine-tuning itself to the way his nerves jangled. “He has to go back to the clinic, especially now. I can’t go looking for him and protect Meredith.”
“Protecting her is what you were meant to do,” Matt hissed. “I suggest you get back out there and do that. Leave Peter to me.”
“Thank you for reminding me, Constable. I’m going after her.” Jeremiah stood and got his jacket. He tugged open the door and raced down the path to his truck. His feet slid.
Glancing down, he saw blood on the path, along with another set of foot prints, larger than Meredith’s…and paw prints. He could track her, so long as he wasn’t too late.
10
Meredith walked and cried, too many emotions filling her to overflowing. The undergrowth and tree branches clawed at her cloak, tearing it. Her hands stung where she’d tripped down the steps outside Grannie’s house and grazed them on the gravel path. She had to find the train station, leave Paradise, and never look back. Mrs. Thorne could forward on her things to the hotel once she found one.
It wasn’t long before she was completely lost. She ran blindly. Eerie howls echoed through the forest. She glanced to her left. A blur of black kept pace. It matched her stride for stride. Flinty, silvery blue eyes gleamed at her.
Meredith swung a left, down a path that seemed vaguely familiar. The trees parted and she was in a clearing, covered with long meadow grass. In front of her was a cottage. A trellis arch over the front door had Christmas lights glowing in the pale light. It was the one from the newspaper—her home. The reports said it had burned. But it was right there.
They lied about that as well.
The sun hit the horizon. The light faded fast as night fell. She needed somewhere safe to hide. She pushed open the gate. Had it been recently oiled? She’d expected a squeak. The windows were clean, the grass neatly mown in precise lines. A lit-up snowman glinted in one of the windows, and outside lights hung over the porch and around the thatched roof. Perhaps the owner would let her shelter for a bit or give her a lift to the station. She walked up the path and reached out to knock on the door.
Before her hand made contact with the knocker, the door swung open.
Wolfe held open the door. “Meredith, what a pleasant surprise. When I said we’d meet again, I had no idea it would be so soon.”
Meredith thought quickly. “I don’t want to intrude. I was passing by and stumbled upon this place by accident. With the sun about to set, I wondered if I could use your phone and call a taxi or something.” Her gasped words fell in a panicked rush. She pressed a hand to her side in a vain attempt to ease the stich.
He tilted his head and studied her. “But you recognize the cottage, don’t you? Come in and see for yourself.” He gripped her arm, tugging her over the threshold.
Hazy scenes from the past flashed though Meredith’s mind too fast to snare. She’d been a child in this house. Perhaps seeing it once more would help fill the hole in her memories. Once and for all.
Wolfe closed the door firmly behind her. Something clicked. Had he locked it? “I’ll take your cloak and put the kettle on while you wait for the taxi. In fact, I’ll call one for you as well. Feel free to wander into any of the rooms. You’ll find nothing much has changed.” His fingers slid over the daisy as he hung it on the coat rack. “I’ll go make that tea.”
Meredith looked at the rainbow coat rack and then at the blue carpeted stairs. There should be thirteen steps. Slowly she headed up, fingers trailing the white bannisters, counting. The fifth, seventh and tenth stair creaked, just as she knew they would. The blue carpet spread onto a narrow landing with three doors opening on the left and two at the other end.
The door at the head of the stairs led to the bathroom with its white suite and the same blue carpet. There were white tiles with faded wall paper above them. Meredith quickly washed her hands, watching the red blood swirl down the drain. A quick check of the bathroom cabinet yielded a first aid kit and she covered the cuts.
The next room was the one she’d shared with Annabelle—their name plaques were still attached to the white door. For the moment she skipped that one, heading past the airing cupboard, to the last door on the left. That was her parents’ room. A deep purple carpet covered the floor. Wardrobes lined the wall opposite the bed, a dressing table sat in front of the window. Her parents’ things still covered the units. But there was no dust to be seen.
The end room, the box room, was evidently the one Wolfe was using. She didn’t linger, but remembered the yellow carpet. She and Annabelle had pretended it was the seaside, the yellow being sand and the blue the sea.
Meredith headed back down the landing to ‘her’ bedroom. She ran her fingers over the name plates before she opened the door. It was as if she’d only left that morning. The pink candlewick bedspread lay over her bed, her white
doggy nightdress case sitting on her pillows. Annabelle’s bedspread was blue, her teddy lying to one side.
She sank down on her bed. She clutched the doggy, fingers digging into it as she glanced around. The orange toy cupboard stood in the corner of the room. The dressing table with huge orange dog stuck to the mirror was under the window. So many memories flooded back and overwhelmed her. A tear tracked her cheek, falling onto the doggy’s head.
A tap on the door brought her back to the here and now.
“I made some tea.”
Meredith clambered to her feet. “Thank you.” She followed him down stairs and into the lounge, catching a glimpse of the small galley kitchen with several blue painted cupboards and a black-and-tan checkered tile floor.
The lounge dining room ran the length of the cottage and was exactly as she remembered. The grey sofa with wooden arms and feet, brown radiogram and fire with guard and hearth, set around the grey and red swirled carpet. The yellow sea painting hung on the wall above the couch.
She glanced down the end of the room. The patio door opened out onto the garden, but it was too dark to see out there now. A hatch connected the dining room to the kitchen, a stone’s throw from the table surrounded by six black and white chairs.
Wolfe handed her a cup. “Here. This should warm you up. You’re shivering.”
“Thank you.” She sipped it. “Perfect.” She wondered how he got it right without asking. “Did you manage to call a taxi?”
He hovered next to her. His tongue darted over his lips. “The lines are down. Must have been the storm last night. Have a seat. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Meredith moved to the top of the room and sat on the chair by the Christmas tree. “Why keep the cottage the same?”
“Why not? The furniture is perfectly good. I never use the rooms upstairs anyway, apart from the box room, so it seemed a waste to clear it all out.”
“I thought the cottage burned down.”
Wolfe shook his head. “No. Where did you hear that?”
“It was in the newspaper reports that Jeremiah had.”
“Lies.” His face curled into a snarl. “Too many lies.” Then he harnessed his anger, pulling back as a cat sheathes razor-sharp claws. “It’s the same as it always was.”
She nodded. “Even the pictures on the walls. I always loved the yellow sea. I’d sit in front of it, pretending I was standing on the beach watching the tide coming in.” She paused. “Being here, it’s as if time stood still and I’m a child again.”
“What do you remember?” he asked looking wistful.
Meredith sipped the tea. “I remember little things like Dad playing the violin at Christmas. There was a tree where yours is, only it was silver and green tinsel. It had those old fashioned fairy lights on it, with the shades, and a rocking horse ornament. Mum made our clothes, knitted, and kept this place spotless. We used to go to church in Turningdale rather than the local one here.”
Wolfe’s cool eyes glistened. He blinked rapidly and shook his head, his hair falling in his eyes, looking almost like a mane. There was something about him, something familiar. Almost as if she knew him.
“Your eyes are an interesting color,” she said quietly. “They’re not blue or green, but a mixture of both.”
“Silver, like the wolf,” he said.
“Jeremiah’s dog has odd eyes,” Meredith said. She rubbed her temple, her thoughts muddling. There was something about eyes chasing shadows through her mind. Her eyes were brown like Dad’s, while Annabelle’s were blue like Mum’s. She didn’t remember Gretchen’s, but Peter…
She scrunched her eyes tight shut, trying to remember. His eyes were—
The cup slid from her hand to the floor, spilling the tepid contents over her feet. “I’m sorry. I feel like I ought to know you, but I can’t work out where from.”
Long fingers, so much like hers, picked up the cup. “It’s OK, Meredith. It’ll soon become clear. I’ll get you some more tea. You’re home now.”
11
Jeremiah searched for over an hour, unable to find Meredith anywhere. He’d lost the trail soon after leaving Maggie and Matt’s cottage. He’d tried all the obvious places, growing desperate as darkness fell.
Maybe she’d made her way to the station and caught a train to Turningdale. The small branch line terminated in Paradise, so she could only have gone one way. However, when he arrived, the station master said he hadn’t seen anyone all day, and as the last train had left twenty minutes ago, he wasn’t likely to until Monday when the next train arrived.
Guilt mixed with worry. He drove back to the ranger station, but she hadn’t arrived there either. Removing his phone, he dialed a friend who lived about fifteen miles away.
“DI Holmes.”
“Hi, Nate, it’s Jeremiah Mantle. I have a situation here in Paradise, and really need some help. Are you busy?”
“A little, but I have a moment to chat and offer advice. What’s up? And why not contact someone at your local station?”
Jeremiah stifled a sigh. “I can’t. They’re involved. And Meredith is in danger. So I really need some outside help with this.”
“I’ll do what I can.” Nate’s tone deepened. “Meredith who?”
“Meredith Stranraer. She’s a good friend. Her brother is on the run from Bedlam. It’s an institution for the criminally...”
“I know what Bedlam is.” Nate scoffed. “You are kidding me?”
“I wish I was.” Jeremiah closed his eyes. “Her grandfather is the police force around here. Him and a couple of constables who do whatever he tells them. Meredith has been missing more than two hours since she left her grandparents cottage, night has fallen and there are rogue wolves in the forest. Not to mention the bloke who keeps hanging around her, who also goes by the name Wolfe. I’m beginning to wonder if he and her brother are the same person. Add in the fact I suspect her grandparents have been hiding him since he escaped.”
“OK. What was she wearing when you last saw her?”
“Black jeans, brown jumper, and a red cloak.”
Nate chuckled. “A red cloak, lost in the woods on her way back from her grandparents’ house and being chased by a wolf? Really Jeremiah, I know it’s pantomime season, but I thought better of you.”
Jeremiah sighed. “This isn’t a joke. Meredith is out there and she’s in trouble.”
“OK. Like I said, we’re busy, but I’ll be over as soon as I can. Meanwhile, I’ll send a team of officers out to you.”
“Thanks mate. I owe you one.”
****
The soft strains of violin music fell on Meredith’s ears. She opened her eyes. For a moment she didn’t know where she was, and then she remembered. She pushed the blanket off her legs and sat up, glancing across the lounge at the man playing the violin by the fire. The room was lit only by the lights of the Christmas tree. Had she fallen asleep? She hadn’t intended to. Only it was so warm and familiar here.
Wolfe smiled at her. “You’re awake.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off like that. Is that the bells?”
“The rogue wolves that escaped from the sanctuary are too close to the village tonight. But it’s OK, you’re safe here.” Wolfe kept playing. “Lupe and Remus are around here, keeping us out of harm’s way. I brought them here to protect you.”
Rogue wolves? She pushed the thought aside for a moment. “I know that piece. Dad played it.”
“This is his violin. Remember I told you the violin belonged to your father when I dropped it off for you to play this morning. I picked it up from the ranger station after you and Jeremiah went out this afternoon. I’ve had it since your father was killed.”
Wolves howled outside.
Meredith jumped. Her heart pounded. Breath caught in her throat.
“You’re safe in here,” Wolfe said as he played another carol. “I’ll keep you safe.”
But am I? Which wolf should I worry about? The ones outside or the one
inside?
He smiled at her. “I found some old photo albums. Would you like to see them while I play?”
Meredith nodded slowly. She ought to leave, she knew that. But the lure of finding the last few truths pulled her in. Against her better judgment, she agreed to stay. “I’d like that.”
****
Jeremiah pulled into the town square and yanked up the handbrake. He leapt out, Bowie on the lead, and strode over to the team clustered under a street lamp. “Fill me in.”
Arthur looked at him. “Two. Both over on the east side of town.”
“Have they come anywhere near here?”
“No. They appear to be waiting for something. Who knows why or what for?”
Jeremiah frowned. “Got a map?”
Arthur spread it on the bonnet of his truck and shone the torch on it. “Here.”
“So what is over there that they want?” he wondered aloud.
Another car pulled up and Matt got out in his police uniform. “Stand down, all of you.”
Jeremiah faced him. “This is a forestry matter, Matt. I already told you that. And you shouldn’t be working this soon after surgery.”
Matt hefted the bandaged hand. “It’s fine. And I told you to stand down. You will not go out tonight. Those wolves won’t harm anyone. I’ve got this under control.” Matt looked at the other rangers. “If I have to tell you all again, I will have to arrest the lot of you.”
Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. That was so not going to happen. “I’ve already reported Meredith missing to the police several towns over. The DI is sending some officers to help search for her.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “You did what?”
“You heard. I called in a few favors.”
“Meredith hasn’t vanished. She’s safe at home.”
“She isn’t at your place or the boarding house. And she’s not at the ranger station as I just came from there.”
“I said she’s at home.”
Something clicked in his memory and Jeremiah glanced down at the map. The old cottage. “That old house in the woods is where she lived as a child? I wondered about it. She doesn’t know it’s still standing. You never told her that her home didn’t burn.”
