Impatience suddenly tore through her. She stared at the phone, itching to pick it up and call Thad to see how he was going with the translation. When he had left her on Saturday he had assured her that he would try his best. She hadn’t asked him why he had suddenly changed his mind about it, and he hadn’t told her. It was enough that he had come around to the idea of helping her.
Thad. She started to redden slightly at the thought of him. She knew that he was attracted to her, although he took pains to hide it. He wasn’t interested in dating, or having a relationship, any more than she was. That was good. The last thing she needed was to alienate him if he made a play for her. She needed him to tell her what was in that book.
But she knew that she had not been totally honest with Ellen when she had said that she had zero interest in him. Despite his unkempt appearance she felt a strange attraction to him, as well. She thought of Ellen’s appraisal that there was a handsome man lurking beneath all that hair. For a moment she tried to picture what he might look like without it, then felt a surge of anger at herself. She was being stupid.
She stared at the computer screen, trying to get into her work. But it was impossible. She stared at the phone again. Was it too soon to call him, to see how he was going with it?
Suddenly, her cell phone started buzzing, almost leaping off her desk with the motion. She picked it up, staring at it. Her heart lurched. It was him. She had entered his number into her contacts as soon as he had left on Saturday so that she would know immediately if he called.
It was almost as if she had channelled him. Her heart beating wildly, she picked up the phone, quickly walking to the back of the office. The last thing that she needed was having Ellen overhear.
She gazed around quickly. She was alone. She pressed answer.
“Thad,” she said, trying to make her voice sound normal.
There was silence for a second. And then his voice reached her, sounding very far away, as if he were on the other side of the state.
“Keeley, How are you?”
“Good,” she said. “For a Monday morning, anyway.” She paused. “How are you?”
He sighed. “Tired,” he said. “I’ve been working on the book all weekend.”
Her heart started beating even faster. She opened the back door, walking quickly out to the vacant lot behind the office.
“You have?” She tried to slow down her breathing. “And have you found out anything interesting? What is it about? Does it have any connection to my dad?”
He softly laughed. “Whoa, slow down,” he said. “It is interesting. But I’m not sure if it has any connection to your dad yet.” He paused, as if thinking how to proceed. “Keeley, you don’t have any idea about where he was in the days prior to his…affliction? Where he had gone to?”
She let out a breath, disappointment piercing her heart. “No. I have no idea. My mom never knew, and his editor at the time said he wasn’t travelling for any Magnet story.”
There was a pause on his end. “Is there any way that you might be able to find out? Did he leave any notes or anything else from his trip?”
Keeley closed her eyes, thinking of what she had discovered in his satchel. There had been the book, of course, and a few rough notes. She had read them, of course, but they had made little sense to her. Just that he was searching for something, and that it was a mystery.
“His notes were obscure,” she said, disappointment thickening her voice. “But I can have another look over them. Do you want me to call you back?”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to get your hopes up,” he said slowly. “But if you can find anything that alludes to where he was, it might help.” He paused. “Do you still have his satchel? You could take another look in it. There might be something that you’ve missed.”
“Yes,” she said. “I can have another look.” But her heart sank. She knew exactly where her father’s satchel was, and she would do it if he thought it necessary. But apart from those few rough notes and the book, she knew that it was empty. She had searched it thoroughly, after all, as soon as she had grown curious about it.
“Look closely,” said Thad. “Turn it inside out if you must. Call me back when you’ve done it.”
Keeley frowned. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go and do it now.”
Thad laughed a little. “Aren’t you at work?”
Keeley’s frown deepened. “I’ll stop by home on my way out of town for a story,” she said quickly. “I’m due to leave soon anyway. It will only take five minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
Thad laughed harder. “I’m going nowhere. My only plan for the day was to take a walk in the mountains after I called you.” He stopped laughing abruptly. “I’ll wait for your call. I promise.”
Keeley’s heart lurched again. He really was taking her seriously. He really was trying to help her. After all this time, someone was willing to investigate with her.
“Stay tuned,” she said quickly and pressed end on the call.
Chapter Seven
Keeley walked into the house, her heart still thundering in her chest. Her mother peered out of the kitchen, frowning.
“Did you forget something?” she asked, staring at her daughter.
Keeley forced a smile onto her face. “Yeah, I won’t be a minute.”
Her mother nodded. “I’m just about to dress your dad for the day if you are looking for me.”
Keeley nodded back, letting her mother go back into the kitchen. She opened her bedroom door, listening. Soon, she heard her mother walk out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Then she started her usual soft talking to her father as she dressed him for the day.
Keeley breathed out a sigh of relief, walking quickly to her father’s study door. She didn’t want to have to explain to her mother what she was doing. She would be disapproving, as always, telling her that she had to let it go. It was easier to do it without her knowing.
She opened the door, blinking in the dim light. The room smelt like dust, despite her mother’s best efforts to keep it tidy. It was hardly surprising. The room was never used. It had been kept like a shrine to her father, all these long years.
Keeley blinked, adjusting her eyes to the dark. It was all as it ever was. The teak desk, in the corner, with her father’s pens and papers still on it. The bookcase in the corner, filled with the books that he had loved. Her eyes softened as they swept over it. Her father had loved history, particularly early frontier history, and most of the books were about it. She still recalled his glowing eyes when he had told her stories about pioneers in the old days.
Usually if she came in here she would pick up those books and linger over them. But she didn’t have time for that today. She walked quickly to the desk. The satchel was underneath it.
Her hands closed over it, pulling it out. It was brown leather and faded with time. She opened it quickly, pulling out his notes. She put them to one side, burying her face back in it. She had already read the notes, and while she might go back to them if she couldn’t find anything else, she knew that they probably wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to know.
Her hand swept through the satchel. Nothing. Not a damn thing.
She took a deep breath, trying to slow herself down. What had Thad said? She needed to be methodical. Tearing through it wasn’t going to help. She counted slowly to ten, then re-opened it.
Nothing. She tipped it upside down, shaking it. Perhaps something might have been lodged somewhere. She could only try.
It was as she was shaking it that she noticed a small tear in the leather, on the front of it. She stopped, tracing her finger over it thoughtfully. There was a small zippered pocket on the inside, which corresponded with the tear on the outside. She opened it again and stared at it. She had opened it, of course, when she had first searched it, but found nothing. This time she opened it slowly, digging her fingers in deeply.
There was nothing, but her fingers felt a small tear in the fabric right at the bottom. Could something
have slipped into the lining?
She took her fingers out, and forced them into the tear at the front, widening it. Yes, she could feel the same lining. And then her heart quickened as she felt a small piece of paper. With difficulty, she extracted it, causing the tear to lengthen in the leather.
It was a small piece of paper. It seemed to be a receipt. She squinted, trying to make out what it said, but it was difficult. The type had faded over the years.
She grabbed the magnifying glass on her father’s desk, holding it up to her right eye. Her heart beat faster again. It was a receipt. From a motel. A motel called The Hacienda. And there was an address listed at the bottom, as well as a phone number.
The motel was located very far away. In the middle of the desert, as far as she knew. Two hundred miles from here.
She clutched the receipt, gripping it tightly. This was where her father had stayed when he had been away in the days prior to what had happened to him. The dates on the receipt corresponded exactly.
Keeley took a deep, ragged breath. She would have missed it, if she hadn’t noticed the tear. She had missed it the first time she had searched the satchel. She stared down at the small piece of paper. At last. She knew now where he had been. And Thad had said that he needed to know where her father had been to understand if what he had translated might be connected.
Her heart soared. She had found something! Tangible proof of where her father had been. He had been staying in the desert, of all places. So far away. Why?
She stood up quickly, still clutching the receipt. Suddenly, she stilled. She could hear her mother back in the kitchen. She needed to get out of here before she was discovered and given the third degree. She didn’t think that she could bear the frustration she would be sure to encounter in her mother’s face if she saw what she had been doing.
She stuffed the notes back into the satchel back and placed it beneath the desk, making sure it was in exactly the same spot that she had found it. As she turned to go, her eyes lingered on a small framed photo on the desk. Despite herself, her eyes filled with tears.
It was a photo of her father and herself in front of a bedecked Christmas tree. Tinsel and baubles and coloured fairy lights. Her father looked so young. He was smiling, crouched down, with one arm around her. From the look of the photo, she would only have been about two or three. A radiant girl gazing adoringly up at her father in a pink and lemon smocked dress.
Her mother had told her that it was one of her dad’s favourite photos. The only other one on the desk was a black and white photo of her parents on their wedding day. Her mother was leaning against a tree, clutching her bouquet, while her father leaned in towards her, smiling. Keeley stared at it. Whatever that young couple had been thinking of in that moment—their future together, how life would treat them—they couldn’t have ever imagined the reality.
Sadness overwhelmed her for all their lost lives. Her mother deserved more, too. She gripped the receipt harder in her hand and walked quickly out of the room.
***
Keeley tore up the driveway towards the cabin, pebbles flying. She hadn’t told him that she was going to drop by, but he had said that he wasn’t doing much today. And she needed to speak to him in person. Somehow, since she had found the motel receipt, it was all becoming real to her. Butterflies were jumping and swirling in her stomach. After all these years, she might finally be starting to uncover the mystery of what had happened to her father.
She jumped out of the car, looking around. He hadn’t come out of the cabin. Her heart dipped just a little. But he couldn’t be far away. Perhaps he was fishing. She started walking towards the lake, breathing in the pure mountain air.
She wouldn’t be able to stay too long. The visit was on work time, and wasn’t authorised, of course. But the cabin was close to the Davidson’s farm. What Dean doesn’t know won’t hurt him, she told herself fiercely. And it wouldn’t take too long at the Davidson’s. She just had to take a few photos and grab the real estate press release about the farm to get the required information for the story. A piece of cake.
Yes. She could see him in the distance, hunched over his rod. He was so still he almost blended into the landscape. Perhaps that was what Thad Morgan was, she thought suddenly. A chameleon who changes colours to suit whatever environment he is in at the time.
She knew he was a city slicker at heart, of course. But out here, in his faded check shirt and wild hair, he seemed an integral part of this wilderness.
He turned his head, his eyes wide. He had heard her approach. He stood up, slowly, gazing at her with his strange golden green eyes.
“Keeley,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you said you’d call back?”
She smiled, putting one hand over her eyes to block out the sun. “Sorry. But I was heading somewhere close, anyway, and I thought it would be better to see you in person.”
He nodded cautiously. “Sure.”
She took a deep breath. “I found something, Thad. In my father’s satchel.”
Thad kept staring at her levelly. “What was it?”
She took another deep breath. “A motel receipt. It had fallen into the lining of the satchel. That’s how I missed it the first time.”
He kept gazing at her, his expression inscrutable. “Let’s go to the cabin,” he said eventually. “I’ll make us some coffee and we can talk about it.”
***
Thad walked into the cabin, acutely conscious of Keeley’s footsteps following him. He had been taken by surprise, well and truly. Ambushed. What was it about her that she thought it was okay to just drop by unannounced all the time?
He knew he was being ridiculous. She was excited, that was all. He had given her a possible entry point as to what might have happened to her father, and she was raring to go. It was almost painful to see the anticipation in her beautiful pale blue eyes.
He sighed, walking into the kitchen. He had set the ball rolling, and there was no stopping it now. And yet the regrets over calling her were already starting to form in his mind.
He had agonised over it, swaying back and forth by the hour. Almost the whole of Sunday he had been consumed with it. Should he call her and tell her the truth of what he had found, or lie? To lie would be to keep her safe, and probably kinder.
But eventually he had asked himself what he would have done in the old days. Back in Covenester, when he had been alpha leader of the Wild Keepers. A man of integrity and honour. That man would have told him that Keeley deserved the chance to unravel the mystery of her father. That man would have said that the truth needed to be uncovered, and to hell with any danger.
He was a different man now. Broken and cautious. But still a part of him yearned to be that man again. Was it possible?
So, he had called her. But he had been circumspect. He had told himself he would play it by ear. If she found anything that told them where her father had disappeared to all those years ago, and that information somehow linked to what he had discovered in the book, then he would tell her. If she found nothing, he would simply go off on his own to end it; if she found something, then he would commit to helping her as well.
His hands trembled as he put on the coffee. She had found something. Now was the time to discover if it held any significance.
He could feel her watching him as he got out the milk from the tiny fridge in the corner, sniffing it automatically. Then he topped up the coffee and handed her the mug, staring at her over the rim of his own.
She seemed to be almost glowing, he thought. This obviously meant so much to her. He put down his coffee and took a deep breath.
“Where is this motel?” he asked slowly.
“The Nuevo Desert,” she replied. “A motel called the Hacienda. It’s located in the small town of Farrow Valley.”
Thad felt the blood drain from his face. There was the connection. The coincidence was too high for Gil Walters to have been in that area, have the book in his possession, and with what he had
discovered within it. It all linked.
He forced himself to smile. “Can I see the receipt?”
Keeley reached into her pocket and passed it to him. Thad stared down at the faded, almost purple-smudged type on the small piece of paper. It was barely discernible anymore. But his eyes were razor sharp thanks to his inner wolf, and he read it easily.
He placed it down on the kitchen bench with a heavy sigh. Keeley looked at him sharply.
“He was there,” she said, frowning. “The receipt proves that he stayed at that motel for four nights prior to him coming home.” She paused. “Is it significant? What did the book say?”
“Keeley,” he said, almost gently. “We should sit down. What I’m about to tell you will be hard to comprehend.”
Her frown deepened, but she did what he asked. They sat on opposite seats in the living room in silence for a moment. Then looked down at the book still sitting on the coffee table between them.
Thad took a deep breath. “This language is old,” he began. “As ancient as time itself. Obviously, you know I wasn’t telling you the truth when I said I didn’t recognise it.”
She nodded, cautiously.
“There were good reasons for that,” he continued. “The language is that of a race of beings that most people are unaware exist, but I know only too well.”
Keeley blanched. “A race of beings? What are you talking about?”
He took another deep breath. “Demons,” he whispered. “A race of demons, called the Vilgath.”
Keeley almost spluttered her coffee across the table. “What? You are joking, right?”
Thad shook his head slowly. “I wish I was,” he said, his eyes sad. “They are the definition of evil. When I lived in Covenester…” his voice faded a little then became stronger, “…my whole life’s purpose was battling them. They infect the city like a virus. But they managed to find out where my brothers and I lived, and they burnt it to the ground, along with everyone who was sleeping in there.”
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