“Prison isn’t enough? A charge for murder that I’m not guilty of? I mean, it was protecting innocent people and self-defense,” he said.
“They obviously won’t see it that way or you wouldn’t be running.” I pulled out my inventory tally from last month. It wasn’t just a cover; I needed to do the job. I hated it and usually pawned it off on the cousins, but not this time.
He unwrapped his sandwich and sighed heavily. “The video shows me shooting the creature as it ran from me. That doesn’t say self-defense but letting a werewolf loose in a mall?”
“I know. I understand that part. You can always argue he said he had a bomb, and you were defending the public.”
“He didn’t have a bomb. He had friends who will accuse me of murder and not stop,” he said.
“Friends?” I turned and watched as he ate.
Ryan nodded and took a bite of a hash brown.
“Werewolf friends?” I asked.
“I didn’t know. I thought they might be. The moon was just rising.” He kept eating.
“So, these friends saw the guy shift into a werewolf? Why would they want you charged with murder if they saw the truth?” I asked.
“Maybe they knew and thought he was tame. Maybe they just want revenge. Maybe they were vampires or witches or some types that thought werewolves deserve to live and hunt because it’s their nature. I don’t know. But between the video and the witnesses, I can’t just go home. I want to, but I’d put my hunter buddies in danger.” He crumpled his trash and shot it at the garbage can.
“What about family?” I asked.
“Hunters aren’t supposed to have family,” he said.
“My uncle does. And everyone has family family. Like siblings and parents.”
“Except you,” he replied.
“Touché. But I had parents. They’re just dead. What about you? It’s not fair you know so much about me,” I said.
He grinned like he was getting somewhere with all his flirting. “You’ve seen nearly every inch of me. I can’t say that.”
“And you won’t. Come on. Siblings?” I asked.
“A younger sister. I won’t have her visiting me in jail for doing my job.” His face got hard, as though resolved to keep her good opinion of him intact.
“That’s sweet. Does she know what you do for a living?” I listed a new first aid kit on my list of odds and ends. Then, I wrote a number two next to it. The hunter had really tapped us out of gauze and other supplies. They weren’t used often, not since my uncle had semi-retired, but they were necessary.
“No, not really. She thinks I’m a bounty hunter. It explains the lifestyle and the guns.” He shrugged.
“I like that. Makes sense while you go after fugitive werewolves or vampires,” I replied.
“I left her a message that I’m on a hunt for a motorcycle gang that attacked a young woman. They skipped bail and went on the road together, so some hunters and I teamed up to protect people. We’ll split the bonds.” He sat up a little straighter.
“Nice story. You should write books,” I teased him.
“You get good at thinking fast and fibbing to protect others. I have to keep her safe,” he said.
“What happened to your parents?” I asked.
“My dad bailed when I was little. He went out for a drink with his buddies and never came home. Mom worked herself to death at unskilled jobs. I mowed lawns and washed cars until I was old enough to deliver pizzas. That’s how I discovered the other world.” He looked at me like I was part of it.
Was I the enemy in his eyes?
“You discovered werewolves delivering pizza?” I asked.
He grinned and nodded. “I worked late. As late as I could. This one place delivered to a college, and they stayed open twenty-four hours. I took the shift after dinner, so I did my homework, had dinner with my sister, and then went to work until the sun came up. The owner warned me to never approach anything that looked like a stray dog. They gave me pepper spray for the dogs. And a wooden stake. There were jokes about Buffy and Lestat. I thought it was a hazing joke for the new kid.”
“Until…” I prompted.
“Until I delivered a bunch of pizzas to a frat house. There were two delivery guys—that’s how many pizzas they ordered. So, I wasn’t alone, at least. They opened the door, and it was a bloody mess. People screaming. Trying to run.”
“The vampires opened the door? You’d think they’d have enough to feed on,” I said.
“They did, but they wanted more. They had some people tied up, untouched. Later, I found that the vamps were saving those. They were virgin blood. Luckily, I didn’t have that problem. I dropped my pizzas and ran. Like a fool.” He laughed.
“They caught you,” I filled in.
“Of course. The other delivery guy, Jack, he had a stake in his pocket at least. He killed a couple before they fed on him. He had bite marks all over his body.”
“And you?” I asked.
“I ran, but there wasn’t a point. Vamps move quicker than you can blink, and more and more just kept coming. There are some really bad groups called nests that hunt together. They ended up dragging me back in the house. I fought them off and ran, trying to escape. They enjoyed watching me run in a panic, circling through the house like a cornered rat. A female tried a different approach—offered whatever I wanted if she could feed. I was tempted but got lucky. I ended up in a room where some kid had been doing pot. I grabbed his lighter and torched the ugly curtains. It set off the sprinklers, but I shouted fire. Vampires can’t fight fire.” He rolled on his back and folded his arms under his head. “They took off while it was still dark. I called for ambulances and stuff. Untied people and helped. I couldn’t help Jack.” He sighed.
“That’s very heroic. I don’t know if I’d have been that brave at sixteen,” I admitted.
“You would’ve been. Tough witch like you.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “That’s how found out about vampires and werewolves. How did you get into hunting? It’s a pretty tight network.”
“Sure. Well, my boss heard about it, and he was in the network. He didn’t want his employees getting eaten. I got some more training and met some guys. They did construction and went hunting at night. Come to think of it, they might’ve been gypsies, but no one ever talked about anything but the hunt. It was like families and other stuff didn’t exist.”
Something didn’t add up. “How did that help your family? I mean, hunting doesn’t pay.”
“That was the problem. I dropped out of high school and worked construction during the day. The guys just fudged my age. Then, at night, I could hunt, keep my mom and sister safe from those things, and we had plenty of money from my day job.”
“When did you sleep?” I asked.
“I had days off from both. If you scheduled it right, the job was covered, the hunting was covered, and everyone got just enough rest.” He shrugged. “I miss that.”
“I’m sure your sister appreciated the effort. Now, she can take care of herself,” I said.
“She’s a nurse, so she does fine. I just miss my crew and my friends. I don’t know when it’ll be safe to go back,” he said.
“Never. The statute of limitations doesn’t expire on murder. You might want to pick a new home and start over,” I suggested.
“They’re probably bugging my sister nonstop about where I am. If I’ve been in contact with her. I want to go back and protect her.” He kicked at the blankets.
“She’s better off without you there, and you know it. I’m sure your hunter friends got her a message safely. If you resettle somewhere, she can always relocate to join you.” It was sweet that he loved his sister, but she didn’t need to be tangled up in his world.
“She might be getting married. I want her to have a normal life. Your uncle had a family and hunted. Was that weird?” he asked.
“He worked in a gypsy family business and hunted with his brothers. We had enough money. Aunt Mandy taught classes in yoga and med
itation. She cleaned people’s auras and helped them balance. She worked out of the house, so she was always there but brought in good money. It was a happy childhood,” I said.
“Do you remember your parents?” he asked.
When had this gone from getting more info about his case to sharing childhood crap? I shook my head. “That’s not relevant.”
“Relevant to what? We’re just talking,” he said.
“I want to know if there is anything you’re hiding. Anything I don’t know. Because we have police around, now.” My history had nothing to do with the present problems.
“Mrs. O’Conner’s my fault? She was sick, and her number came up. Don’t blame me,” he said.
“I’m not blaming you. I have cops asking questions. If they want to search the place and find you, I’m on the hook for harboring a fugitive. Is there somewhere we can move you to? Cousins? Friends? Not back home, farther away. They could be tracking you. I want you to be safe, but I want my family to be safe, as well,” I admitted.
“And I thought you were one of us. Brave and willing to risk your life for the right things,” he shot back.
“Claudia,” Uncle Vinny said.
I hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.
“Have you heard?” I asked him.
“About the customer, yes. We need to talk,” he said.
“Follow me. I have to do inventory.” I headed for the stockroom, deeper in the basement maze.
I started ticking off the things that needed reordering.
“It’s not Ryan’s fault,” Vinny said.
“I know. But it adds risk. Risk for him because the cops are around. If we can move him, we should. They could be tracking him down. He’s been here long enough.” I wanted to protect my café and people, but Ryan would be safer not staying here.
“You think the cops aren’t watching this place, just in case? Moving him now would raise suspicions and questions,” Vinny said.
I sighed and kept working. “I understand. We have to be careful. Why is this all happening at once?”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll make it through this. I know dealing with a human death is bringing a lot of scary attention. But this could happen to any shop. They’re just doing their job. You need to simply be helpful, answer the questions, and don’t offer anything beyond what they want. Don’t act like you have anything to hide. Ryan is doing better, but he could open up those wounds easily if he had to run. Then, he reinfects his wounds. With the cops around, we’re not moving him.”
He used that fatherly tone. Even though he wasn’t my father, he was the only father figure I’d had growing up. He was always there for me. Protected me and treated me like I was his. My instinct said to trust his advice. I hadn’t even considered the cops could be watching us.
“You’re right. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. But I think the cops believe it’s natural causes. They just need the medical proof. The family is pushing for the investigation, and I can’t blame them, but we didn’t do anything to her. I understand they want someone to blame, but if she asked for a sugary drink, what? We’re not supposed to give it to her? We were supposed to know she was a brittle diabetic?” I was paranoid enough about peanuts and other allergies.
“No, of course not. You give them what they ask for. She had the responsibility to manage her own health and all that sugar testing stuff. Getting stressed out or spiking her blood pressure doesn’t mean Esme or you gave her a heart attack later that day. That’s just crazy. Grieving people want someone to blame, but the law won’t fall for that. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said.
“The cops seemed to indicate they had some reason to be chatting with us first. They took a sample of Esme’s voice. The cops will be back.” I sighed.
“Did you send over the gift basket the twins made?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I wasn’t sure if it might look like we were trying too hard. If her husband is accusing us and we take him something, it’ll probably only make it worse. I could try with his daughter, but I don’t want to look like we’re trying to smooth something over.”
“You’ll know when the time is right. Finish the inventory and try to have a normal day,” he said.
“Fine. You spend some time with Ryan. He’s complaining there are no men around here,” I said.
“You like hiring vampires instead of human men,” Vinny teased.
“They’re more loyal and do what they’re told. I have some human guys. But they’re here to work, not entertain a guy hiding out.” I shrugged.
“I’ll take care of it. Back to work,” he said.
Once he left to chat with Ryan, I used my magic to levitate the items that needed to be reordered, filling out the list as I noted the supplies that hovered above the rest. Then, I cast another spell for anything we’d need seasonally to show itself. The heart stuff popped up. Ah yes, next month was Valentine’s Day. I added seasonal goodies and cups. Love made people splurge, and we’d sell a lot of ceramic mug sets.
Right now, I’d just love to have Ryan safely moved on and Mrs. O’Conner’s case closed. Romance was the furthest thing from my mind.
Chapter 8
That afternoon, I forced myself to stop checking the Internet and local news feeds. There was no story or mention of us anywhere. There was also no obituary yet for Mrs. O’Conner. I set alerts on both so I didn’t become obsessed with checking things. Aunt Mandy and Esme were business as usual. I didn’t know how they could be so calm.
I sat in my office, placing the orders, so we were stocked for the coming weeks based on prior use. Part of me worried that bad press could hurt sales. but I wanted to stay positive. We’d done nothing wrong. and any concerns would blow over.
A sharp knock on the door made me jump. “Come in,” I said.
Margaret walked in. “There is an older man outside the shop telling people not to come in.”
“Mr. O’Conner?” I asked, but I didn’t need an answer.
“We assume so, but he wasn’t a customer. We don’t know him. No one has spoken to him yet,” she replied.
“I will. Get me a large black coffee.” I grabbed my jacket.
January could be brutally cold in the Northeast. I had my North Face jacket and stretchy gloves on and walked out front by the time Margaret had the coffee ready.
Before leaving the café, I studied the widower. The man was in his late sixties and looked flustered. I couldn’t blame him, but this wasn’t going to bring her back.
I walked out in the bracing cold and offered him the coffee.
“Mr. O’Conner, can I help you?” I asked.
“You did this. Your shop,” he said.
“I’m Claudia, and this is my shop. I know you’re upset. I was very sorry to hear about your wife. I promise you we did nothing to hurt her.” I held out the coffee, again, but he ignored it.
“Liar. You upset her. She was never coming back here.” He pointed to the shop.
“I know. She told us. We did everything we could to make it up to her. If she didn’t want to come back, fine. One spill or a wrong order didn’t kill her. She never drank the iced coffee. The only thing she drank was what she ordered. Why don’t you come inside and we can talk about this in private?” I was getting cold, even in my fuzzy boots.
He glared at me. “Fine. It’s freezing out here today.”
I led the way and settled behind my desk, rubbing my hands together. He sat across from me and sipped the coffee.
“I understand you’re upset that your wife had a bad experience here. But if she was in any way sick or unsteady on her feet, we would’ve called for an ambulance. We don't want to lose a customer, but when she left, she was fine. There are plenty of people who can verify that. I’m sure the police will be talking to them. They already talked to me. I’m sure you know that,” I said.
He nodded. “They’re not done looking into things.”
“Then, why protest outside of my shop
? Let the police do their job first. Your wife was a customer here for years. One bad day doesn’t mean we’re evil. I think she’d have come back to us after a few weeks of those chain coffee shops.” I nodded.
“She hated the chains. But she was so mad at this place.” He shook his head. “Even if the police can’t prove anything, I know it was your fault. Maybe legally I can’t prove it, but this place upset her. She had a weak heart, and too much stress wasn't good for her.”
“We offered a month of free coffee. What more could we do? People make mistakes. I’m sure working at the library had its stresses, too. You want to dump it all on me?” I asked.
“Someone has to pay. I shouldn’t be talking to you,” he said.
He put the cup on my desk and hefted himself to his feet.
“Why?” I asked.
“There is an ongoing investigation. They told me not to. I believe you didn't mean to kill her. But you are responsible for what happens here. You’re awfully young to own a place like this,” he said.
I nodded. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to him either. I didn’t want to cause more suspicion for myself or the café with the police.
“Maybe you should leave, then. Or I could call the police and let them know you’re protesting here,” I said.
“I can be outside. They said not to go in or talk to you. You’re right; I should leave. But you’ll be dealing with my protest plenty.” He stormed out.
I followed him and watched him take up the same spot.
Aunt Mandy walked over to me. “What did he say?”
“Nothing new. He said he’s not supposed to talk to me. I tried to calm him down and assure him that we would’ve called for help if we thought she was ill. I don’t think he’s reasonable, now. He’s stuck in his grief.” I wished I knew a way to help him, not that he’d listen to me.
“I can try to help him,” she offered.
“No, I know you can help, but he won’t listen. He’s not ready, and coming from us, it’ll only make him dig in his heels more.” I leaned on the counter.
“What should we do? He’ll freeze out there,” Margaret said.
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