Pack of Lies

by Lucy Felthouse

  Noah had clearly heard the strange noise he’d made and come over to investigate. So two pairs of eyes were glued to Matthew’s right hand as he uncurled his fingers to see what exactly it was he’d discovered.

  “Huh,” he said, a good half a minute after they’d seen the scrap of material. “So someone left here with part of their trousers missing, did they? I’d better check it wasn’t one of the team that was supposed to be here before I get too excited.”

  Noah nodded, looking as excited as Matthew felt.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he stabbed at the buttons until the display showed that he was calling Richard.

  “Hello?”

  “Richard, it’s me, Matthew.”

  There was a chuckle. “I know. It said on the caller display. What’s up?”

  Ignoring his friend’s first two sentences, he got to the point. “I’m up on the moor and I found something. A piece of cloth that looks as if it’s been torn from some trousers. Can you find out from the guys who were up there if it’s theirs? I’m trying very hard not to get my hopes up here.”

  “It’s not theirs. I already know because I’ve seen them all and they all looked perfectly intact. So you think it’s—”

  “It’s got to be, hasn’t it? It’s got to be his. Thanks, Richard. I’ll call you later.” He hung up the phone and shoved it back in his pocket, turning to Noah with a huge grin. “I think we’ve got something here, kid. Richard said that none of the guys had ripped trousers, so this has to belong to him. Whoever the fuck he is. Oops, sorry.”

  Noah rolled his eyes. “Seriously? I’ve told you already, I’m fifteen, not five. Never mind that, anyway—get sniffing!”

  “Huh, what? Oh yeah!” In his excitement at finding the scrap of material, he’d forgotten entirely why it was so important. Having confirmed it didn’t belong to any of the guys who’d been staking out the moor the previous evening, any other scent on it had to belong to the sheep slaughterer.

  Clapping his hand to his nose, he inhaled deeply. He scented grass, bushes and plants, as well as sheep flesh and blood, which was hardly surprising given where he’d found the scrap, but there was no overwhelming smell of human. Christ. Trying again, he pulled deeper through his nostrils, desperate now.

  It didn’t make any sense—why in the hell would someone’s clothes not smell of them? When they’d just come out of a washing machine, yes, but when he’d worn them to walk up out of the village, all the way to the moor, traipsed across it to find a sheep, then kill it? It just wasn’t possible—it should stink of human sweat and his natural scent.

  When a third good sniff didn’t produce anything worthwhile, Matthew reluctantly had to admit defeat. He’d take the material home and see if Isaac could figure something out, but he thought it was unlikely. Apparently they’d seriously underestimated their adversary—he’d figured out a way to wear clothes but not have them soak up any identifying scent. Unbelievable.

  Trying hard to keep a lid on his frustration, should he scare the crap out of Noah again, Matthew stuffed the scrap into his pocket and turned to leave the moor.

  “That’s it?” Noah asked, scurrying after him. “You can’t scent anything on the material so you’re going to just give up?”

  “Of course I’m not going to give up! There’s nothing more I can do up here today. We’ve looked around and this is all we found. I’ll get my brother to check this out later on for a second opinion, but I don’t think he’ll find anything I didn’t.”

  “I suppose it’s out of the question to go around knocking on doors and asking if folk have ripped their trousers recently?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. All we can do is carefully put the word out there, see if something turns up. If we make too much noise, we’ll tip him off. And this wouldn’t be enough evidence to convict him, so without catching him in the act or getting a confession, it wouldn’t help, not really. The bastard needs to be dealt with by the police when he’s caught, because if I get my hands on him I’ll end up doing something that will make me just as bad as him. Worse, in fact. He’s never slaughtered a person.”

  “You don’t want to bump him off then drop him into one of the disused mine shafts?”

  “Of course I do,” Matthew replied, smiling in spite of himself. “But if he turns me into a killer, then he’s won, hasn’t he? All along I’ve been fighting to prove my innocence when it comes to those dead sheep. If I kill a man, even a scumbag like him, it will all have been for nothing. Not to mention I’d end up in prison, and for a werewolf that could be extremely problematic.”

  Nodding slowly, the boy said, “Yeah, I guess I never thought of it like that. Let’s just hope you’re not the one to find him then. I don’t want to see you go to prison. Or break out on the full moon, leaving carnage behind you.”

  Matthew narrowed his eyes. “You make it sound like a book or a film. A story. Fiction.”

  “Probably because that’s exactly what it feels like. Werewolves, sheep killers, framing, full moons… It feels just like fiction.” He paused, ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, admit it. If our roles were reversed, wouldn’t you feel the same?”

  Raising an eyebrow, Matthew thought for a second and had to concede that the boy was right. “Yeah, I think I probably would. When you’re living and breathing all this stuff, it’s normal. But for folks on the outside looking in, especially since nobody’s seenus as wolves, it must be weird. Like it’s not real. Like…fiction.”

  Smirking, Noah said, “I’m smarter than I look, you know.”

  Ruffling the kid’s hair, Matthew replied, “You’re gonna ace those GCSEs, mate. Totally ace them. Now come on—let’s get out of here. I’m sick of the sight of this fucking place. And I’m bloody starving.”

  They headed off the moor and back down toward the village together, pausing at the end of the driveway that led to the youth hostel. “Thanks, mate,” Matthew said, grabbing Noah’s hand and shaking it, “your support today really meant a lot. And if you could put that super brain of yours to use working out who our sheep slaughterer is, then that would be much appreciated.”

  “I’m not Sherlock Holmes,” Noah said, flexing his hand when Matthew released it, “but I’ll do my best. If I think of anything you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Better be. See you later.”

  “See you.”

  Matthew watched the boy head up the driveway for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and continued his journey into the village. Next on his list was a damn meal—he’d done everything he could for now, and he’d never think of any other smart ideas on such an empty stomach. Food was fuel for the brain and the body.

  An hour later, Matthew sat back in his chair with a satisfied groan. He’d just stuffed his face with a heaped plateful of fried food, washed it down with a couple more cups of coffee, and he felt tons better. Ready to take on the world. Or Eyam, Derbyshire, anyway.

  Time to take the next step. It was a tiny one, sure, but it was better than being stationary. He phoned Richard again.

  “Me again,” he said when his friend answered. “I just wanted to give you another update and ask for yet another favor.”

  “Go for it,” the other man said instantly, reminding Matthew for what felt like the millionth time in recent months just what a good man the vicar was.

  “The update is that I got nothing from the scrap of material. Nothing whatsoever. I can smell the moor all over it, but no scent of the damn person wearing the trousers. I have no idea how that’s possible but it’s true. I’m gonna see if Isaac has any more luck when he gets home but I’m not holding out much hope.”

  “Is it possible the person was wearing another layer underneath the trousers?”

  Matthew resisted the temptation to slap his forehead. “Yes, of course. I’m not sure what kind of material would stop the transference of any scent whatsoever, but it’s possible. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  “A fresh brain thinking about some
thing often does wonders. You should know that by now.”

  “Speaking of which, any chance of calling another meeting? Or getting the word out there about these damn trousers? Needless to say, we have to find out who the hell they belong to, preferably without tipping him off. I’m certain we can’t use the material as evidence in a trial, so we need to catch him in the act or get a confession. But if we can track him down beforehand, we can keep a damn close eye on him, see if we can nail him before he does anything else.”

  “Yes, of course. I reckon another meeting is best. That way everyone will get the information first hand and we’ll know they’re getting the correct information. You know how things can get unintentionally changed when people repeat them. Give me a couple of days and I’ll get something else sorted. In the meantime, I’ll keep my mind on this problem and see if anything crops up. We’re almost there, mate, I can sense it. He’s slipped up now, made an error. Not a huge one, as it happens, but it proves he’s a man, not a machine. And men screw up every now and again. It’s only a matter of time before he makes another mistake. When he does, we’ll be ready.”

  “I hope you’re right, Richard. I really hope you’re right.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Isaac left the doctor’s surgery, saying goodbye to his colleagues and the patients in the waiting room as he headed out the door. He was about to turn in the direction of home, dinner on his mind, when he spotted Nathaniel approaching him.

  It had been a while since their paths had crossed, and Isaac was pleased to see him, his attraction not having waned even a little bit in the interim. His smile quickly disappeared when he saw the expression on the other man’s face as he crossed the road and came to a stop in front of him.

  “Hello, Nathaniel,” he said tentatively, hoping his mistake of not shortening his name wouldn’t be noticed. “Everything all right?”

  Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “Hello? That’s all you’ve got to say, is it?” His voice wasn’t loud but the anger was still blatantly obvious.

  “Um, I’m not sure what you mean, sorry.”

  A sigh. Then, “You’ve been avoiding me. Since you towed my car home and we, uh…you know, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you. I thought we had something. Or were about to start something.”

  Isaac suppressed a groan. This was not what he needed right now. Further complications, and a discussion in the middle of the street where anyone could hear them. “I haven’t been avoiding you at all,” he lied. “I’ve just had a lot on my plate.” That part was definitely true.

  Nathaniel let out a harrumph. “You couldn’t have called? Dropped me a text?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what was happening between us and I didn’t want to push it. How’s your car? All fixed?”

  “I’m not here to talk about my bloody car. I want to talk about what’s happening between us.”

  “Okay. But can we go somewhere more private? Your place? Let me just send Matthew a quick message to let him know I’m not going to be home just yet, okay?”

  Nathaniel folded his arms and fixed him with a sharp look.

  Ignoring it, Isaac pulled his phone out and tapped a text to his brother, careful to ensure that Nathaniel couldn’t see what he was writing.

  Not going to be home just yet. Drama with N. Eat without me if you’re hungry. Will be back ASAP.

  He sent the note, then put his phone into silent mode. “Okay, I’m all yours.”

  Without a word, Nathaniel turned on his heel and stalked along the road in the direction of his house.

  Rolling his eyes, Isaac followed at his own pace, not even bothering to try to catch up. He sensed that no matter what he said in this situation, he was going to get it wrong, so he was in no rush.

  When he reached Nathaniel’s house, the back door stood open, so he walked right on in and found him sitting at the kitchen table, still looking pretty pissed off. He closed the door behind him, took the opposite seat and waited expectantly for the fireworks.

  After several long moments of silence, Nathaniel finally raised his gaze from the table’s surface and met Isaac’s. “Okay, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

  “What? I don’t really know what this is all about.”

  “I already told you. I thought there was something starting between us, then you go and disappear on me.”

  “I haven’t disappeared anywhere. I’ve been here all the time.”

  “Exactly. You’ve been here and haven’t made the slightest attempt to get in touch. You haven’t even been in the pub for ages. Do you see why I think you’ve been avoiding me?”

  “I suppose so. But that hasn’t been it, not at all. I told you, I didn’t know what was going on between us. Whether you were expecting me to call, whether you were going to call me, whether you even wanted to see me again. Unfortunately I don’t have the power to read minds. And as I also said, I’ve had a lot on my plate just lately, so haven’t really had the spare time or brainpower to figure out…well, us.”

  “It’s obviously not that important to you, then.”

  Isaac desperately wanted to bang his head on the table. Nathaniel was clearly spoiling for a fight, and he really didn’t have the energy. Especially when he wasn’t entirely sure what they were supposed to be arguing about. “Don’t be silly.” An idea popped into his head. A trump card. He decided to play it. “Look, I have no experience whatsoever with this relationship stuff. I don’t know what the etiquette is, what’s expected, what’s not… I just have no idea. I’m very sorry if I’ve upset you or pissed you off, but I can assure you it’s not intentional.”

  By now Nathaniel’s eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hairline. “You have no experience with relationships? That’s very specific. Most people would say they don’t have much experience.”

  “If I said that, I would be lying. I have no experience. None whatsoever.”

  “Surely you weren’t a virgin?”

  Now Isaac had to stifle a snigger. He’d had a somewhat tragic existence, but he wasn’t a virgin. Over four hundred years old and still with his cherry? It didn’t bear thinking about. “No. I wasn’t a virgin. I’ve had sex. Not a lot, granted, but you weren’t my first.”

  “Okay. So why no relationships? I’m sure living and working in the same small village limited your options somewhat, but you must have had opportunities. And if not, there’s always online dating.”

  Isaac opened his mouth then closed it again. Obviously he couldn’t tell the absolute truth. He thought for a second then said, “You’re right, there hasn’t been much opportunity. My life pretty much centers around this village and always has done. It’s a bit of a vicious circle, I suppose. I’ve never met anyone I wanted to have a relationship with, so I’ve never bothered to come out. And probably because I’ve never come out, anyone in the village who might bat for the same team has no idea that I do.” He shrugged. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had, though, right?”

  “I guess not. But are you interested in pursuing anything…with me?” Nathaniel’s gaze dropped back to the tabletop and Isaac’s heart skipped a beat. He was so damn cute, and his immediate thought was, Hell yeah, I want to pursue something with you,but the sensible part of his brain pushed the reaction aside. What could he offer Nathaniel right now? He was going through a totally fucked-up period in his life. Partners would normally share their troubles with each other, but he’d have to keep his a secret from Nathaniel. And the guy was smart—he’d know there was something up.

  Then there was the matter of the full moon. How could he explain where he went and what he did every full moon? At first Nathaniel would probably not realize that he was “busy” the same night every four weeks—he wouldn’t see the pattern. But he might well work it out eventually. And even if he didn’t, what would he say if Nathaniel asked what he was up to, where he was going? Partners shared that kind of information too.

  Isaac put his head in his hands. Christ, why couldn’t he have just kept
his hands to himself in the first place? All this crap was the precise reason he’d only ever had one-night stands. His life had enough lies, enough omissions as it was, without complicating matters further. But it was too late now—he was having this conversation and he had to find a way to get through it causing as little pain to either of them as possible.

  “I—I am.” He continued quickly, not wanting to get Nathaniel’s hopes up, as arrogant as that felt. “But I can’t. I’m really sorry. Christ, believe me, I’m sorry, but I’m just not in a position to get into something right now. This…thing I have going on is pretty big and is taking up a lot of my time, and it’s important. I can’t dedicate the time or energy to a relationship.” He wanted to add, Maybe when this is all over,but he stopped himself. Even then would he really be in a position to date someone, maybe get even more serious?

  For fuck’s sake. He’d had this argument with himself so many damn times over the past few months it was driving him crazy. It was as if he was having a tug-of-war, withhimself. Can I, can’t I? Should I, shouldn’t I? Back and forth, round and round. It was a wonder his head hadn’t exploded.

  “Tell me what the thing is,” Nathaniel said simply. “Maybe I can help. You know what they say—a problem shared is a problem halved. A bit naff perhaps, but it’s true. I’d like to help you. Want to help. And I’d understand too if you were busy, had stuff going on. God, I’m not expecting us to be joined at the hip. Just to give it a go and see where it leads.”

  “I can’t tell you, Nathaniel. I’m truly sorry. It’s a family thing.”

  “Can’t or won’t? I’m beginning to think this is a load of bullshit you’re feeding me just to get out of giving a real reason. Are you a commitment-phobe or something? Or did you just want to fuck me, use me, with no strings, until you got bored? Well I’m sorry, but that’s an offer that’s just not on the table. I like fun as much as the next guy, especially the kind that takes place in the bedroom. But unfortunately for me, it seems, I like you as more than just a shag. So I’m afraid it’s all or nothing. I’m not talking civil bloody partnership or moving in together, just exclusivity and some time together. But if you don’t want to give this a chance, then I think you should leave and get back to avoiding me. It’s probably best all ’round.”