by Joseph Lallo
“In one thousand feet, turn left,” the GPS instructed.
“Now you’re talking!”
Following the directions offered up by the navigation required a few more questionable acts, including bursting through a chained gate, but eventually she spilled onto a back road only a few turns away from a major highway. The van wasn’t exactly untouched from the ordeal. She was down to one headlight, the front driver’s side tire seemed a bit wobbly, and about half of a Douglas fir was dragging behind her, but she was still moving, and the police were nowhere to be seen.
She straightened her glasses and took a breath.
“There… that wasn’t so bad…”
#
Despite his better judgment, and the fact that his brain was badly in need of sleep, Markus had relented to Blodgette’s gentle insistence that she take another late-night dip.
“I’m hoping we can get your language skills developed soon, so I can explain to you why standing out here in the middle of the night when we know there are wolves around is a terrible idea,” he said.
The night had gotten downright icy, but if it bothered Blodgette, she didn’t let on. He, on the other hand, had wrapped himself in an emergency blanket he’d found in a back room. While he was at it, he’d bandaged up his scalded hand.
“We’re going to have to see if we can work out a schedule for this sort of thing. Or at least get Gale to give me the lowdown on what temperature you’re supposed to be at when it’s bath time. Something tells me you’re taking advantage of my ignorance to get some bonus lake time.”
He raised his head and spotted a single headlight. A shock of fear stung his stomach, then a distracting realization that the fear of a human being discovering him was more frightening than another wolf encounter. He was still grappling with this worrisome realization when the puttering van limped into the courtyard.
“I’m back!” called Gale. “The guard wasn’t even there. He left the gate open, can you believe it? Best forty bucks I ever spent! … Something wrong?”
Markus stared at the sorry state of the van. “What happened?” he said.
“To the van?” she said.
“Yeah, to the van! You’re dragging a forest behind you.”
She popped the door open and hopped out. “Wow, I am dragging a lot. So that’s what that sound was. Anyway, don’t worry about it. I handled it.”
“Be that as it may, what is it that you handled?”
“There was a run-in. How’s Blodgette doing?”
“She’s fine. What run-in?”
“With the police, but no problem. It’s taken care of.”
“You had a run-in with the police!”
“It was nothing, really!” Gale said.
She tried to tug open the back door of the van and found it badly buckled. A few more vigorous pulls caused the whole door to drop off its hinges.
“That seems like a hell of a lot more than nothing.”
“Look, they saw me, they chased me, but I lost them, and then it was clear sailing all the way here. Boy, it got kind of shaken up back here. Lucky I packed the way I did.”
She grabbed one of the potted plants, which had been evicted from its pot during the ride.
“They chased you?! You got into a police chase?!”
“It was taken care of. I’m no dummy. Look, see?”
She pointed to the license plate. “Covered up. No license plate, no connection to you or your uncle or anything.”
“No connection to… look at the side of the van, Gale! Dimitrios’s Deluxe Delivery. With an address and a phone number!”
“Oh… yeah… I forgot about that…”
“How could you forget about that?!”
“I panicked! It was my first high-speed chase, okay? But I think we’re still good. They definitely didn’t follow me, and the roads were empty on the way here. We’ve got time.”
“Do we have two years? Because that’s what it’s going to take, right? That’s how long we’re going to have to stay ahead of the law if we’re going to get Blodgette off to a good start, right?” He shook his head. “She is so screwed. We totally screwed up…”
“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry,” Gale said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Can I… can I make an observation?”
“Does it involve any more revelations about major agencies that are going to be after me?”
“No. Well, yeah, actually. Animal Control. But that’s not what I was going to say.”
“What then?”
“I’m happy to see at some point between when I left and now this became about Blodgette growing up right instead of you avoiding jail. Did something happen?”
“No… Actually… she…” Panic and frustration flickered briefly to embarrassment. “She called me Mom.”
“She called you Mom? How?” Gale said, any semblance of concern about the police washed away by the revelation.
“She spelled it out. We were playing with building blocks.”
“She’s spelling?!”
“I know, it’s crazy, right?” he said, the realization re-dawning and bringing a smile to his face.
“That’s incredible. We’ve got to see if she’ll do it again when we get back inside. But that’s all it took? Three little letters and you’re onboard?”
“Hey! I was onboard from the start. But it had a certain heart-melting effect, I’m not going to lie. And speaking of melting, I think I figured out how she keeps her temperature in check better than the rest,” he said, holding up his hand.
“Oh no! Did you burn yourself? The Structophis gastrignae shouldn’t have any dangerous temperatures externally at this age.”
“Those horns of hers are rocket hot.”
“They are?” She slapped her head. “Of course they are. Like a heat sink! She’s got naturally occurring heat sinks!”
She turned to the lake. Blodgette, satisfied with her dip, was trudging up the slope. She had a measured expression on her face, as if she was happy to see that Gale had returned, but not so happy that she’d want Gale to know she was happy. Once she spotted the flower in Gale’s hand, the attempt at concealing her happiness toppled and she made eager grabbing motions.
“Yeah, this is for you!” Gale said, handing it over. “You’re a special one, aren’t you? I swear, Markus, I’ve been reading up on these things for years and I’ve never heard anything like this happening before. I don’t know if this is a beneficial mutation—Structophis gastrignae are known for their genetic malleability—or if it was a purposeful physical modification. There have been documented examples of creatures modifying their bodies all the way into adulthood, but normally it’s to facilitate their chosen fixation. This could have been a survival adaptation to take care of the poor choice of oven. There’s the off chance we’ll be able to ask her, if she gets her head around the language fast enough. But only if we don’t get caught…” She sagged a bit. “Which isn’t too likely now. … We did screw this up, didn’t we?”
The realization of the consequences on not just one but three lives swept in and weighed down upon them. Blodgette stopped sniffing at the flowers long enough to realize the somber tone that had seized the rest of the group. Though still dripping with water, she decided all of this sadness was entirely unacceptable. She plodded up between them and squeezed them both into one big, wet hug.
“Yes, Blodgette. Thank you, Blodgette,” Markus said, trying to shove her away before he was completely soaked.
“She’s hugging me! She’s hugging me too!” Gale proclaimed. “I’ve been accepted into the family group! WE’RE PACK BONDING!”
The escalating excitement was enough to convince Blodgette to let her go and look warily at her.
“I’ve got to write this down! Oh my gosh, I feel like Jane Goodall!”
Blodgette looked to Markus. He shrugged.
“She means well. Come on. Let’s go see what else she got for us and get it in
side.”
#
The following morning, Dimitrios and Grumman arrived via a nondescript rental car at the bistro. A police car was parked out front, and one of the officers was standing guard in front of the door.
“What seems to be the problem, officer?” Dimitrios asked, springing spryly from the passenger door of the car.
“This place of business is under investigation,” said the policeman.
“I can see that,” Dimitrios said. He fished out his wallet. “My name is Dimitrios Spiros. I’m the owner of this bistro.”
The police checked his credentials, then turned to Ms. Grumman. “And you?”
She presented a gold-embossed business card. “Ms. Grumman. Your superiors should have been provided information about me and my role in this investigation.”
“Oh, right, right. You’re the… what’s the word the boss used…?”
“Special envoy. I am to be treated as a consultant with full privileges.” She checked her phone. “If I have been properly informed, this investigation is regarding a recent incident farther north.”
“Yeah. Some crazy chick pulled some seriously reckless driving in some Podunk burg. Big, clunky grease truck, and yet somehow the county cops up there couldn’t chase it down. Had this place printed on the side. At first we assumed it was just stolen, but the old biddy upstairs says it was taken by the son of the owner.”
“Nephew,” Dimitrios and Grumman corrected simultaneously.
“Whatever. We took a look inside and, hoo boy, something went down in there. Busted-up woodwork. Water all over the floor. It was a… hey! Hey! What’d I tell you?!”
The policeman had directed his outburst at a trio of men in black slacks and black dress shirts who were approaching from down the street.
“These guys. When we got here, they were snooping around. Wouldn’t answer any questions about why they were here, what they were doing. They’re lucky I didn’t haul them in! Number one suspects right here.”
“As a matter of fact, Officer, these gentlemen represent a private security firm hired by Herr Spiros. They had permission to investigate the premises. Including all rooms currently inaccessible.” She turned to Dimitrios. “Isn’t that correct, Herr Spiros?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes. Private security. Yes. Must protect my property, after all,” Dimitrios replied, slow to catch on.
Ms. Grumman pulled a briefcase from the car and withdrew several very official-looking documents.
“Everything should be in order,” Grumman said.
The officer looked over the files, visibly confused by the wording. “I’m going to have to run this by the pencil pushers in the department.”
“By all means. Any proper law enforcement officer must do his due diligence to ensure there have been no improprieties.”
He stepped aside and pulled a radio from his belt.
“Herr Spiros, if you would, please stand by to answer any questions about the property that the police might have. I need to debrief your security.”
“Fine, fine,” Dimitrios said. “You’ve got to keep an eye on the police anyway. Can’t tell you the trouble these boys have caused me thanks to the lady upstairs, who moved into the apartment over a bistro knowing full well it would be noisy and yet suddenly that becomes my problem. Some people…”
He continued his rant, to no one in particular, and wandered over to the policeman. Ms. Grumman approached the black-clad lurkers.
“Have you been updated on the current state of affairs?” she asked.
“Vehicle sighting during a police incident a few hundred miles north of here,” said the tallest of the crew.
“Indeed. And scattered reports of a similar vehicle driving erratically on the freeway, tracing a line north to approximately the site of the police incident,” she added. “No confirmation of the target cargo, but I am confident we can act as though the vehicle contained our target. Perhaps not at the time of the primary incident, but certainly during the preceding trip. If we operate under the assumption that Markus Spiros and Gale Dekker stowed the target prior to returning to the rest stop, that gives us a search radius of anything within a forty-five minute drive of the rest stop. I’ve got people in the home office researching places within that radius that suit the target’s maintenance needs. Unfortunately, it is an extremely rural area. With planning, any section of it could be rendered a proper location for storing the creature without observation.”
“A grid search may be necessary,” he said.
“Something that will waste precious time and open us up to discovery,” she said. “I believe…”
An obnoxious ringtone managed to short-circuit even her steel trap of a mind. She glared in Dimitrios’s direction and watched as he pulled out a phone and answered.
“I’m in the middle of something, can I… Oh, Beeni! It’s you. No, I wasn’t dead. I was in Europe. … Yes. Business. … Yeah, I remember Markus. To tell you the truth, I’ve been looking for him. … Yes, I figured you sent him down here. Damn good thing you did, too. You wouldn’t happen to know where he went, do you? … Markus. … Yes, I remember him, Beeni, we were just talking about him.” He covered the microphone. “She’s down to about half her marbles.”
Ms. Grumman stepped up to him. “Herr Spiros, is that Sabina Templeton with whom you are speaking?”
“Yes. My niece. I… just a second.” He raised his voice. “Yes, Beeni, I remember Markus.”
“She is the last person to speak to Markus. I wonder if you would allow me to have a word with her.”
“You can try,” he said. “Beeni! Listen. Listen, there’s a lady here. Business associate. Wants to talk to you. … Ms. Grumman. … No, that’s Phyllis, Bobby’s girl. You haven’t met this one. No, she’s not a friend of Markus’s. … Yes, I remember Markus. Look, just talk to her for a bit.”
He handed the phone to Grumman with a good-riddance gesture, then set about bothering the police officer again.
“Hello, Frau Templeton.”
“Is this Phyllis?” asked the voice over the phone.
“No, Frau Templeton. This is Ms. Grumman. I am presently working with Herr Dimitrios Spiros.”
“Oh, yes! Dimitrios. Have you met Dimitrios?”
“As I just finished saying, Frau Templeton, we are temporarily aligned in our business dealings. You are a difficult person to contact. We have been calling quite steadily.”
“Oh, I don’t answer any phone calls from numbers I don’t know. Same goes for the door. Everyone is trying to sell you something. Everyone’s got their own scam. Oh, confidentially, you know who is always running a scam. My Uncle Dimitrios. Have you—”
“I have,” Grumman snapped, briefly losing her composure. She took a breath and continued. “I would like to ask you a few questions about Markus.”
“Oh, yes. He’s my nephew. Dimitrios’s great nephew.”
“Yes. I presume you have already been asked, quite extensively, where he might be found.”
“Just by Uncle Dimitrios. Have—”
Ms. Grumman quickly spoke to cut off the inevitable restart to the conversation. “I further presume he did not tell you where he went prior to his departure.”
“No, no. All I know is he went down to the bistro. I only talked to him once more after that.”
“I see. And what was that final conversation regarding?”
“He wanted to know about that nice summer camp he used to go to. Did you know they turned it into a nature preserve?”
“I believe the term is ‘nature reserve,’ Frau Templeton. And I am afraid I do not know the camp to which you are referring.”
“Such a nice place. So many kids learned so much about nature. Now they’ve taken the kids out and just let the nature take over. Seems kind of pointless if you ask me. Though my nephew Markus would still love it. Do you know Markus? He’s my nephew. He’s very interested in animals.”
“Delightful, Frau Templeton.
If you could provide me with the name and/or address.”
It took seven more introductions to either Dimitrios or Markus, but eventually she was able to get the name of the former camp. With the information in hand, she quickly foisted the phone back onto Dimitrios and pushed the information to her staff. In moments they returned the relevant summary. She allowed herself a fraction of a degree of an upward shift at one corner of her mouth that counted as a smile for her, then addressed the leader of the “security team.”
“This is the place. Most assuredly. A large body of water, access to minerals, and secluded. It is perfect,” she said.
“Should I get the team up there?”
“Not just yet.” She looked over her shoulder to Dimitrios.
“… No, it was Italy I was visiting. … By the way, did you know that that’s where mozzarella comes from? … No, not Germany at all…”
She turned back, comfortable that he was far too distracted to overhear her.
“The individual presently in possession of the target may not be willing to part with it. It is thus prudent to produce some leverage to help us persuade him, or failing that, to provide the first breadcrumb that will lead authorities to our desired conclusions about him. I assume you have kept the police under close surveillance?”
“As instructed.”
“And has their search been thorough?”
“They are operating with a limited search warrant. They cannot access any of the storage areas not already damaged.”
“Excellent.” She pulled a small slip of paper from her pocket. “Following their departure, which I shall see to it is as expedient as possible, have one of your team enter the building and place any two of the items from this list in one of the un-searched storage areas.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Excellent.”
She turned and approached Dimitrios and the police officer.
“Officer, I have spoken with Herr Spiros’s security, and combined with your no doubt thorough work, I believe we are satisfied with the results of the investigation. We would prefer if you left the premises immediately.”