The Werewolf Whoops

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Then try shutting your hole,” Jack suggested, holding Laura’s challenging gaze for a measured moment before flicking his eyes to the elevator as it dinged to signify someone was about to land in our department. “Here we go.”

  I lifted my eyes, expectant, and watched as Chris strode off the elevator with a spring to his step.

  “Pack your things,” he announced. “We’ve got a job … and it’s a doozy!”

  I smirked as I glanced at Jack. “I guess our rest and relaxation period is over, huh?”

  “Yup. We’re back to Operation Adventure. Brace yourselves, because I have a feeling this one is going to be big. Chris looks too happy for it to be anything but something huge.”

  I could only hope he was right.

  2

  Two

  Chris waited until everyone was in the conference room to explain our next assignment … and unveil our upcoming destination.

  “We’re going to Michigan.”

  I could barely hide my disappointment. “We’ve already been to Michigan.”

  Jack’s eyes lit with amusement as he shook his head. “You don’t like Michigan? I would’ve thought that was your favorite spot after you bonded so thoroughly with the Winchesters during your first job.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I had bonded with the owners of the northern Lower Michigan inn where we’d stayed. It wasn’t exactly for the reason he thought. They were witches. Sure, they hid it in a unique way by living in a town that had rebranded itself as a paranormal destination. The Winchesters were essentially witches pretending to be humans pretending to be witches. Did you follow that? I know, it’s convoluted.

  Jack found my interest in the Winchesters amusing. I guess I couldn’t blame him. It did look a little like hero worship. The thing he didn’t realize is that the Winchesters boasted real magic, the kind that comes with curses and muttered spells. They could make things happen, which I found interesting because I could do the same.

  Oh, did I forget to mention that? Yeah. I’m magical too. It’s a big secret, though. I’m telekinetic and I draw the occasional psychic flashes and dreams. I’m exactly the sort of thing The Legacy Foundation is looking to discover, so I’m hiding in plain sight. It’s either genius or incredibly stupid. I haven’t decided which.

  “I loved our time in Michigan when we visited the Winchesters,” I said. “I’m still in touch with Bay. We email. As for Michigan itself, I just thought we’d be seeing more than one state.”

  “We go where the reports take us,” Chris interjected, leaning back in his chair and fixing me with a quirky smile. I would’ve melted at the smile the day I met him. I thought for sure he was the one I’d develop a crush on. He was gung-ho when it came to the paranormal (just like me) and he was eager for a grand adventure (also just like me). Instead, for some reason I still couldn’t fathom, my heart decided to become attached to the taciturn jerk of the group. I was still internally cursing my bad luck. “It just so happens that we’ve stumbled across a very interesting case out of Michigan. I don’t think it’s something we can ignore.”

  I bobbed my head without hesitation. “I wasn’t complaining.” That’s not what I wanted to be known for, after all. “I just thought we might go somewhere new.”

  “Well, we’ll be going to mid-Michigan instead of the same area we were before, so it’s not exactly the same location.” Chris’s grin was contagious, and I couldn’t help returning it. He was an enthusiastic soul, and even though he’d been kidnapped and seriously injured weeks ago, he was ready for another adventure. I had to give him credit for his strength and bravery. “This is an entirely new investigation, and I have to admit it’s one that’s near and dear to my heart.”

  “Oh, geez,” Laura muttered, refusing to hide her disdain.

  I spared her a glance and wrinkled my nose at her grimace. When I risked a look around the table I found amusement flitting across the now-familiar faces. The rest of the team looked resigned rather than upset. I was clearly missing something.

  “I guess I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s near and dear to your heart?”

  “They’re all near and dear to his heart,” Millie explained, casting a fond look to her nephew. Chris was technically a relative only while she had remained married to his uncle, but she loved him all the same, and divorce didn’t stop her from doting on him. “It’s Michigan, though, so I’ll hazard a guess that our next job involves paws … and sharp teeth … and tails.”

  “Bigfoot?”

  “Not Bigfoot,” Chris corrected, agitation showing. “I told you, I prefer referring to that particular creature as a hominid.”

  I held up my hands in a placating manner. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

  Chris was back to smiling. “It’s fine. I understand. Anyway, we’re not technically going after a hominid this time. We’re going after something else.”

  “What?”

  “Wolves.”

  “Wolves?” I furrowed my brow. “Like gray wolves? I didn’t know they had wolves in mid-Michigan. I thought that was an Upper Peninsula sort of thing.”

  “Not those kinds of wolves,” Jack offered, shifting on his chair.

  It took me a moment to realize what he was saying. “You can’t be serious.” The words were out of my mouth before I thought better about saying them. “You think we’re dealing with werewolves?” I corrected quickly.

  If Chris was offended, he didn’t show it. Instead he eagerly bobbed his head. “That’s exactly what I think we’re dealing with. But I prefer calling them lycanthropes.”

  Of course. I should’ve seen that coming. Chris was nothing if not a stickler when it came to scientific names. “So we’re going after a lycanthrope?”

  Chris rubbed his hands together, eager. “We are. It seems Michigan might have more than one running around. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll run across a whole pack.”

  Laura cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. “I don’t want to be the naysayer … .”

  “But you will be,” Millie muttered, her expression going dark. She hated Laura most of all, which was saying something because the woman was pretty much everyone’s least favorite member of the group.

  Laura ignored the dig. “We’ve been down this road before. I believe this is the third time we’ve been to Michigan looking for the Dog Man.”

  I stilled, rubbing the tender spot between my eyebrows as I rolled the words through my head. “The Dog Man? Why does that sound familiar?”

  “It was brought up when we were visiting the Winchesters,” Jack replied. “Landon – he was the FBI agent on the case – mentioned that there was a Dog Man legend that everyone gossiped about when we thought we were looking for a hominid. He suggested that was our killer rather than Bigfoot.”

  “Did he really?” I was intrigued. I remembered the FBI agent well, and he seemed more pragmatic than that. Of course, he was also dating a witch – and seemed to not only know about but embrace her abilities – so perhaps he was more open than I realized. “I didn’t hear him mention that.”

  “You didn’t spend as much time with him as I did,” Jack pointed out. “We ran a few errands together and discussed the case while you were busy running around the golf course.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a dig, but I took it that way. “If you’re suggesting I didn’t do my job … .”

  “I’m suggesting nothing of the sort,” Jack snapped. “I’m simply trying to relate what Landon told me so we can move this meeting along and not trip over issues no one cares about.”

  Annoyance was evident in his voice, and my cheeks burned hot when I realized he was right. “I’m sorry. Continue.”

  Jack opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, and then clearly changed course as he rubbed the back of his head and gathered his thoughts before speaking. “So, back to the Dog Man. Landon told me he’d heard the legend not long after he started spending time in Hemlock Cove. Apparently it’s so prevalent that a local radi
o station plays a song around Halloween every year to remind everyone of the phenomenon.”

  “I believe I’ve heard of the song,” Chris noted. “It’s actually historically accurate, if I remember correctly.”

  “I can’t confirm that either way,” Jack countered. “I will say that Landon was … I guess the word would be ‘open’ … to the possibility that the rumor was part of some mass hysteria hoax put forth by a group of people several decades ago.”

  I frowned, and when I glanced up I found Chris’s expression matched mine. “Mass hysteria? Why must it be mass hysteria? Why can’t the Dog Man story be real?”

  Jack didn’t meet my gaze. “I’m just telling you what we discussed. I’m not here to make judgments on the story.”

  That was rich. I’d been on exactly three jobs with him before injury struck, and he made judgments on every single one of them. “Right. That’s you. Non-judgmental Jack. We’re thinking of having that added to your business cards.”

  Jack slid me a sidelong look. I couldn’t infer what he was thinking, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t good. “So, we were talking about your case, Chris,” he prodded, turning back to our boss and fixing him with his full attention. “What do you have that suggests we’re dealing with a lycanthrope? I’m guessing it’s another body.”

  “That’s where you’d be wrong.” Even though Jack was a naysayer at heart and Laura was a pain in everyone’s posterior, Chris was the sort of guy who didn’t let anyone dampen his enthusiasm. That’s why I was certain I’d develop a crush on him from the start. It wouldn’t have gone anywhere even if I managed to control my stupid hormones, because our resident medical expert Hannah Silver was clearly more his speed – and he only had eyes for her. But Chris’s eager nature was a constant reminder that Jack was nothing more than a wet blanket. “We don’t have a dead body.”

  “So, what do we have?” Jack clicked his pen and focused on the notebook sitting open on the table. “Paw prints? Howls? Claw marks on a door?”

  “We have two missing campers, a community panicking about howls in the night, and various paw prints and claw marks.” Chris beamed. “We have a perfect storm of evidence and events that leads me to believe we’re finally going to be able to prove that lycanthropes are real.”

  The fact that Chris was excited about the prospect wasn’t out of the ordinary. I was new to the group, but even I recognized that Chris would always be this way. He couldn’t help himself. What was out of the ordinary was everyone’s responses to Chris’s excitement. No one else seemed remotely interested in the possibility of seeing an actual dog man. I leaned closer to Millie, who sat on my other side, so I could whisper.

  “Why is everyone acting so weird?”

  Millie arched an eyebrow as she scanned the table, blasé. “Chris loves the idea of werewolves. He’s, like, … obsessed with them. When he was a kid, he was bitten by a dog and told everyone he turned into a werewolf under the full moon.”

  “Did he say ‘werewolf’ or ‘lycanthrope?’”

  Millie chuckled. “Werewolf. He was six.”

  “That’s an elaborate story for a six-year-old.”

  “He’s always been obsessed with werewolf stories,” Millie admitted, making sure to keep her mouth shut when Chris cast the occasional glance while giving a brief history of Michigan’s mitten. “I don’t know why. I think it’s because he wanted a dog and his mother wouldn’t let him keep one in the house. Chris was too much of a kind soul to have a dog and keep it chained outside. That’s probably why he has five dogs now and has in-house dog sitters when he’s out of town.”

  The tidbit surprised me. “He has five dogs?”

  “And two cats … and three rats … and some ferret thing that smells like stinky feet. The boy is a complete and total animal lover.”

  I fancied myself an animal lover too. Still, I couldn’t imagine having that many pets. “So you think Chris is focusing on this lycanthrope possibility because he wants it to be true and there’s no chance we’ll run into the real deal while we’re there?”

  Millie licked her lips, cocking her head to the side as she debated how to answer. “I think that Chris has been desperate for an outing since he started feeling better. He was down for the count longer than you or me, as you know, and he wants to prove to everyone that he’s back to his normal self. That means not allowing anything to hold him back.”

  “So we’re going to hang out in Michigan while the locals look for missing campers and we simply go through the motions.” I couldn’t help being disappointed. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”

  “I’m saying that Chris is excited and it’s a good thing,” Millie clarified. “If this turns out to be nothing, I won’t complain. That will allow him to ease back into work without wearing himself out. I’m fine with that.”

  Seeing it through Millie’s eyes, I realized I was fine with it too. “I’m sure everything will work out. It might turn out to be a learning experience on top of everything else.”

  Millie chuckled as she patted my shoulder. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  I pursed my lips as I tuned back to the main conversation flowing around the table.

  “What can you tell us about the missing campers?” Jack prodded. “What do we know about them?”

  Chris consulted the file sitting open on the table. “It’s a missing couple. Lisa and Ethan Savage. They’ve only been married a few months. High school sweethearts with a long history together. They’re both outdoor enthusiasts and know each other well. My understanding is they love the outdoors and enjoy spending time together under the stars.”

  Laura involuntarily shuddered. “Ugh. You mean there’s more than one person who likes stuff like that? Why?”

  Chris ignored the question. “Three days ago they went to a special nature preserve recently opened to campers. For years it was owned by a private entity that didn’t allow hunting, fishing or camping on the property. It was recently opened for camping and fishing … but no hunting, and from what I can gather from this report the police have been busy enforcing that rule. Hunters apparently feign ignorance and wander into the area with weapons anyway.”

  “Is it even hunting season?” Jack asked, typing on his phone. “According to this, you can’t hunt deer until the fall. The same for certain grouse. Umm … it says that nothing most people would find valuable can be hunted this time of year.

  “Of course, you can hunt opossum, porcupine, weasel, red squirrel, skunk, ground squirrel, woodchuck, feral swine, feral pigeons, starling and house sparrows any time of year,” he continued, reading from a list. “I don’t see anyone going to formerly-protected land to hunt any of those things.”

  “No, I’d agree on that.” Chris thoughtfully stroked his chin. “The police report says the tent was found in tatters, as if something with long claws cut through the nylon to get to the people inside.”

  Jack’s face remained impassive. “Okay. Did they find any blood?”

  “No.”

  “Any signs of a struggle?”

  Chris shrugged. “Things were tossed around the campsite. That seems to indicate a struggle. I don’t think we can know if that happened during the attack or after. There are bear in that area. One of them could’ve torn up the campsite.”

  “Good point.” Jack scratched the back of his neck. “When did they go missing?”

  “They were reported missing when they didn’t return from their trip at the appropriate time yesterday morning. One of the fathers – I believe it was the husband’s father – assumed they just lost track of time, but filed a report anyway just to be on the safe side.

  “The Department of Natural Resources had representatives banding birds in the area and sent someone to the spot where the couple was believed to be camping – everyone who wants to camp on the land has to register for a parcel. He’s the one who found the place completely torn up,” he continued. “He called for search dogs and volunteer personnel right away, but as of a
bout an hour ago there’s still no sign of either of them.”

  “Okay.” Jack was all business. “What’s the prevailing hunch that the DNR is working under?”

  “The report doesn’t really say, but if I had to guess I’d go with bear attack.”

  “So why do you think it was a lycanthrope?” Jack questioned pointedly. “It could very well be a bear.”

  “Bears don’t usually attack tents out of more than curiosity,” Chris pointed out. “If they come into your campsite, it’s because they’re looking for food. It’s summer. There’s an abundance of natural food in that area. The bears are hardly starving.”

  “What if there was something wrong with the bear?”

  “I’m not ruling that out.” Chris was earnest. “But in addition to the shredded tent there have been numerous police reports filed in that area about howling wolves and shadowy monsters running around on two legs … monsters that look like men with dog heads. I was already monitoring the situation when the story of the missing campers popped up.

  “I’m not going in there assuming it’s a lycanthrope,” he continued. “But I’m not ruling it out either, because this is what we do. We take cases like this and tear them apart looking for clues. That’s what I want to do.”

  Jack’s lips curved. “Okay. As long as you’re not already convinced it’s a werewolf … .”

  “Lycanthrope,” Chris automatically corrected.

  “Lycanthrope,” Jack gritted out. “As long as you’re not already convinced it’s a lycanthrope, I think we can work with what we’ve got.”

  Chris beamed. “Great. Everyone grab your bags and meet at the airport in two hours. We’re heading for Michigan.”

  Even though Michigan wouldn’t have been my preferred destination, I couldn’t entirely tamp down my excitement. The idea of actually finding a werewolf – er, a lycanthrope – was exciting. Even if it turned out to be a mutant bear, it was better than hanging around the office.