True Mate

by Patricia Logan

  “That makes a lot of sense, Scott.”

  “It may make sense to you but it’s also an overwhelmingly important thing to know about a person, and he is a person, not just a disembodied spirit. I hope you take this seriously. Please,” Scott pleaded. “If you ignore this responsibility, he will wander until he finds someone who will listen. If that takes months, years, or even centuries, it would be terribly sad. Please help find this child and lay him to rest.”

  I nodded. What more could I say? I reached out and offered my hand. “I will. As soon as I see Romeo tonight, I will tell him everything we talked about. Thank you so much. It was great getting to know you a little better.”

  He shook my hand, looking me right in the eyes. “It’s no problem at all. I hope you know I’m no threat to the sheriff, none at all.”

  “I do.” I sighed. “Well, I’m going home and then to bed. The sun is high in the sky, and I need to lay my head down, get some rest. Sunlight still tires me after all these centuries.”

  Scott smiled at me. “Good day, Mr. Lasco. Sweet dreams.”

  “Call me Vincent, please.”

  Scott nodded with a pleased look on his face. “Vincent, it is then.”

  “Goodbye.” I turned and walked outside into the sunlight, anxious to make it home while I could still keep my eyes open.

  Romeo

  When Sally and I drove into Frederick, we parked in front of a liquor store. Ever since learning that there was a small town that bordered Prosper Woods and that it relied on law enforcement from us, I’d been meaning to take a ride out here. Since Floyd Reardon seemed to be the de facto mayor, and he’d also tried to kill Vincent, I hadn’t felt in any rush to do so. The liquor store was one of four small ramshackle buildings on the main street deep in the woods.

  The buildings were in disrepair with a sagging wooden boardwalk that connected the four, which consisted of what looked like the liquor store, a beauty salon, a store that advertised fishing tackle and auto parts for sale, and a US post office. A faded American flag hung from a pole in front of the post office where a chain high on the pole banged in rhythm with every gust of wind. There was a separate two pump gas station at the end of the block.

  The street itself was paved but only barely, rutted by worn asphalt, broken in places. The whole town had a sad feel, not unlike the weeping willows that hung over the porch of the store. For early morning, I somehow expected some activity and traffic, but I spotted only a couple of parked rust buckets and those were badly in need of repair.

  I turned to look at Sally. “Not much to look at, is there?”

  My deputy snorted. “You can say that again, Sheriff. If North America has a boil on its ass, I think Frederick wins, hands down.”

  I chuckled. “Do you know where Sam’s place is?”

  “Nope. That’s why we’re here.” She pointed to the post office. “I’ll ask inside.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, climbing out of the Blazer as she slid out from behind the wheel. I glanced over at Sally who was adjusting her duty belt. I was relieved that she was with me, she didn’t seem to get fazed by much. Even though I had no idea what we’d be walking into, it didn’t seem to matter. Sally had a way of making me feel in control. I absently wondered if it had something to do with her being a hedgehog shifter. I knew nothing about the animals, other than that they were small. I did feel at ease around her, though.

  I stepped up onto the boardwalk beside Sally and we walked into the post office. A bell tinkled as the door opened. Inside, the area behind the counter appeared empty. The door behind us closed, and I called out.

  “Hello! Is anyone here?”

  “Hold your horses. I’m comin’!”

  I watched as a door opened, and an elderly man stepped out. He was very tall and had a shock of white hair. When he smiled, I noticed the dimples that popped into his handsome cheeks. He reminded me of Sam Elliot. His eyes were a light ice blue, and his skin was a healthy tanned color.

  “Jedidiah, hey!” Sally greeted, seeming to know the man.

  “Well, hello, Sally.” He stepped out from behind the counter, shuffling toward us at a glacial pace. I noticed his long legs were clad in blue khaki pants that were a shade darker than the light blue postal worker’s short sleeved shirt.

  “You’re the postman out here in Frederick too?”

  “Yep.” The old man turned and looked at me before sticking out his hand. “Jedidiah Eubanks.”

  I shook his hand. “Rome Harmon, Mr. Eubanks.”

  He nodded and turned back to Sally. “I cover Frederick since there’s so few families but I’m only here twice a week to deliver mail, not like Prosper Woods where I deliver every day,” he explained. He turned back to me. “You must be the new sheriff in town. I heard about you, but I just don’t get around fast no more, not like before retirement.”

  Sally smiled at me, looking slightly embarrassed “Sorry. I should have introduced you. I somehow thought the two of you had met before.”

  “No problem, Sally,” I said.

  “Well, I’m done…headed into Prosper Woods now. Was there somethin’ I can help you with?” he drawled. I liked his southern drawl. It was soothing.

  “Yes. We were hoping you could point us to Sam and Greg’s place. We have to pick up some things there.”

  “Sure. Lemme get my keys, so I can lock up.” He walked around the counter and I noticed how sluggishly he moved. He walked so slowly he made crippled old men look like Usain Bolt. He picked up a set of keys from the back counter, and then shuffled back to us at a snail’s pace. The three of us stopped on the sagging boardwalk, and as Jedidiah locked up, for the first time, I noticed an old black Trans Am with flames painted on the faded hood parked on the side of the building.

  “So, you need Greg and Sam’s address?”

  “Yes, please,” Sally said. “We need to go out to their cabin.”

  “Well, I figure it’ll be easy to find today,” the postman drawled.

  I frowned. “Today?”

  “Well, yeah it should be easy to spot since that smoke seems to be comin’ from right over there.” He raised his hand slowly, and Sally and I followed where he pointed.

  About a half a mile deeper into the forest, rolling black smoke and flames were billowing up toward the sky.

  “Shit…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Prosper Woods Chronicle. Letters to the editor:

  “There’s a fallin’ down shed at the back of the Prosper Woods trailer park. Now, I ain’t one to complain but the other night, I heard a terrible ruckus and went out to see what was goin’ on. Can ya believe all that gardenin’ equipment was floatin’ off the ground? What’s goin’ on here?” Signed, “Not the sharpest tool.”

  Romeo

  Sally and I jumped into the Blazer and left Jedidiah staring after us as we tore down the road toward the smoke rising from the trees. Sally drove while I called 911. Judging by the flames leaping into the sky and the blackness of the smoke, whatever was on fire, posed a significant risk of spreading to the woods or the rest of the town. I was surprised that it was Precious who answered my call. Then I remembered she was the local town dispatcher for not only the sheriff’s department but apparently the fire and rescue as well. She told me she’d get someone out to Frederick right away, and we disconnected just as Sally drove up to a house which was fully engulfed in flames.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Sally slammed the Blazer into park and shut it off as we took in the scene. Greg and Sam’s cabin was burning so hot that already half of the structure had collapsed. In the driveway, an older Jeep was burning as well. Plumes of noxious black smoke rolled out of the house, and I had to cover my mouth with one arm as I smelled plastic and other toxic scents in the air. Sally stood beside me, pulling something out of her duty belt. When she produced kerchiefs and surgical masks, handing half of them to me, I thanked her and hastily tied them around my face. The face covering blocked out some of the smell, but it was
still rank.

  I looked around, drawing my gun as I scanned the surrounding forest with my eyes. My sense of smell had been improving ever since I started paying attention to it. But the only thing I could pick up now was the overwhelming odor of scorched wood, melting plastic, and chemicals coming from I had no idea what. I was fairly sure my hair, skin, and clothes were going to reek of the stuff when this was all said and done.

  Sally also had her gun in her hand as she scanned the surrounding woods. Sam and Greg’s cabin was set in the middle of a small clearing. I was relieved to note that the two men had done their due diligence and cleared a hundred feet of brush away from the structure as the county ordinance required. In California, all residential structures were required to have a buffer of cleared open space between it and any heavy vegetation or wooded areas. This was necessary due to the nature of wildfires which claimed hundreds of structures and many lives in the state each fire season.

  After making a sweep, I locked eyes with Sally. She nodded. “Clear.”

  “Clear,” I echoed. We both holstered our weapons and took in the damage. Sam’s Jeep and the house the men shared was a total loss. I also knew accelerant had been used on the vehicle and the structure. The scent of gasoline was heavy in the air. Until the fire department came, there was nothing we could do but wait. We weren’t going to be able to salvage anything from the flames.

  “You think Floyd did this?” I asked, coughing beneath my mask as I backed up toward the tree line.

  Sally followed me, turning to look back at the two separate fires as we stopped. She nodded. “It would make sense. If he didn’t, then his guys did. Floyd rarely does his own dirty work. Proving who did it is gonna be difficult, though.”

  “Last night in the bar, he laughed when I told him I’d be out to collect the men’s things today. I have no doubt this fire was intentionally set but you’re right, damn him. What a vindictive piece of crap.”

  “Yeah, this is no accident. That’s a gasoline accelerant in the air,” Sally said. She frowned at me. “You smell that?”

  “Yeah, I smell it. Son of a bitch. How stupid is this guy?” I asked, incredulously. “Does he really think we’re not going to figure out what happened here?”

  Sally shrugged, frowning deeply as she watched the flames sending up plumes of black smoke. A cloud hung over the whole area.

  “Sheriff, Floyd Reardon is the Frederick pack’s alpha. I don’t think he cares what we think, and none of his folks are gonna cross him.”

  She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Last night I’d gotten the impression that Floyd had been hurting females in the pack. I wasn’t clear on what that meant and as far as I knew, there hadn’t been any recent complaints. I could only imagine that the werewolves out here kept their own counsel, and that was a sad state of affairs. What could I do about it? If—as Sally expected—Floyd had some sort of functional relationship with Sheriff Willis in the past, that could only mean that the sheriff had ignored and overlooked the crap that went on here.

  That’s not gonna happen with me.

  We watched the flames for twenty minutes until we heard sirens. Sally got in the Blazer and pulled it off to the side, making space for the pumper truck which roared up to the collapsing cabin and shell of a car. I wasn’t surprised to see the large truck followed by a water tender. While on the LAPD, I’d gone through extensive training with the Los Angeles Fire Department during mandatory crisis management drills. During my training, I’d learned that there were varying types of fire apparatus’, each of which had specific uses. The most common fire truck was the pumper which was the typical one you’d see fighting small housefires in residential neighborhoods. It carried at minimum, just under a thousand gallons of water.

  The water tender bringing up the rear was the type of truck specifically used to bring water to a rural site where fire hydrants hooked into city or county water system weren’t available. I wasn’t surprised to see it at this remote scene. I was pleasantly surprised, though, with the capability of the firefighters as they jumped out of the truck, unwound hoses, and immediately went to work, concentrating on putting out the fires. My fury grew as Sally and I watched Greg and Sam lose everything they owned.

  At the end of a very long afternoon, we thanked Captain Hank Long of the Prosper Woods Fire Department. I hadn’t met him until now because he’d been on vacation with his family until last evening. I’d met the other guys on the small, all volunteer department of six men in the saloon during my first week in town. All of them were nice guys, and now that I’d seen them in action, I was impressed by how efficient and thorough they were. I told them so before they drove off.

  As the sun began to set, I could tell that Sally was agitated. “Is there something wrong other than the obvious?” I asked.

  She pointed to the sky. “Full moon tonight. We need to get the hell out of Frederick before dark.”

  I hadn’t even thought about what that meant until now. We were in werewolf territory and, though, I’d never given it any consideration, that could mean we were in real trouble. I nodded.

  “Let’s go. There’s nothing else we can do out here.”

  As Sally and I turned to walk to the Blazer, I spotted several people standing at the edge of the tree line. They were a ragtag bunch, reminding me of hillbillies and hobos. The children had runny noses and dirty faces, and the women looked haggard and small. Among them was Floyd and another guy I recognized from the posse he’d had with him in the bar. Floyd glared at me, and I walked over.

  “Did you have anything to do with this, Reardon?” I asked from beneath the kerchief. I noticed how there was a strange yellow glow to his eyes, not unlike the way his eyes had looked the night he’d transformed into that freakish half-man half-wolf form in front of Vincent’s house. It sent a chill down my spine, but I think my unease came more from the anxiety that was bleeding off Sally in fearful waves. Staying out here so late and all alone with my deputy had not been a great move on my part.

  Just like she’d told me, Sally had a family and she really needed to get home to them in one piece. We should have left Frederick much earlier, but I’d wanted to stay and supervise the mop up, too afraid that the embers would reignite and set the whole forest on fire. I really needed to delegate and stop being a control freak. Floyd gave me an insolent up and down perusal and then finally settled his gaze on my face.

  “Did I have anything to do with what?” he asked.

  “With this fire, alpha,” Sally said from beside me.

  Floyd turned and glared at my small deputy, taking a step toward her. My hand shot to my holster, and I unsnapped it as I stepped in front of Sally.

  “Back off!”

  Floyd sneered and the expression quickly morphed into an ugly smile. As a gay man all my life, I’d gone out with a lot of guys, some of them big burly rough trade. But, I’d never seen a guy Floyd’s size who was as ugly on the inside as this one. Hatred and violence practically radiated off the man. If we weren’t the law, and he wasn’t afraid all hell would rain down on him if something happened to us, there was no doubt in my mind that he would try to kill us where we stood.

  “Don’t go near her!”

  Floyd’s eyes flashed yellow, and he sneered again, glaring at me with such fury, I thought the trees all around us would catch fire. His gaze dropped to my hand on my weapon, and he finally held up both hands.

  “No problem, Sher…iff,” he spat. “I just wanted to tell y’all you should leave before the moon’s out.”

  Several of Floyd’s pack mumbled their agreement, and I suddenly had a clear understanding of what a pack animal really was. I could very easily imagine these wolves chasing down their prey as a pack, cornering it, and surrounding it, before taking it down. The pack would then devour it together.

  My mind flashed back to Buck Walters’ remains. All we’d ever found of him was his head, feet, and hands. The rest of him had never turned up. I had no doubt that Floyd and his
pack were responsible for the old moonshiner’s murder. It literally sickened me to imagine what had happened with the rest of the old man’s remains. I was quite sure they hadn’t stopped to bury him.

  “We’re going,” I said, glancing over at Sally, who nodded at me. I could almost feel my poor deputy’s relief. We piled into the Blazer, and Sally turned over the engine, navigating a three-point turn, then hightailing it out onto the dirt road leading to town.

  “I think we should head over to my cabin to talk to Greg and Sam,” I said as Sally drove past the post office. I noticed the old Trans Am was gone, and I absently wondered whether that was Jedidiah’s car.

  “They’re wolves which means they might be out on a run tonight,” Sally said.

  I hadn’t even thought of that. “Let’s give it a try anyway. They knew we were driving out to Frederick today, so there’s a good chance they’ll be expecting us,” I said.

  “Sheriff, Rome, I know this is all new to you, but you do realize that during a full moon, werewolves can’t stop themselves from shifting.”

  Huh. I hadn’t even thought of that. “That’s not just a thing in the movies or something? I mean they really can’t control it?”

  Sally glanced at me, and then back at the road. “No, I’m afraid not. Every other kind of shifter can control their shift but with werewolves, they are subject to the pull of the moon. There’s no way to stop it.”

  “I never knew.”

  Sally chuckled. “Well, the truth is, you don’t know a whole lot about most supernaturals, so it’s good for you to know the basics.”

  “Got it. Werewolves can’t control the shift and in the case of the Frederick pack, the alpha is an asshole.” I grinned at her and saw her smile as she drove.

  “Yes. Well, I think most alphas are made that way… I mean they’re assertive and all but not all of them are assholes as we already discussed.”