A Light So Cruel (Pioneer Falls Book 3)

by Heather Davis

  “Mr. Pinter?” I said, setting down the sleeve of to-go cups I’d brought out for refilling our supply.

  Dad leaned across the counter. “Mac was over there on a welfare check. Neighbor called it in. He’d heard suspicious activity there Saturday night and then Mr. Pinter missed church. Pinter’s car was in the driveway this morning when he should have been at school.”

  The skin on the back of my neck prickled. “Oh, that’s horrible. Don’t you have to get over there?”

  He nodded. “I’m headed that way now.”

  “Here, let me make you something to go,” I said.

  Maggie had been whistling a little while ago, but now I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the dishwasher. I wanted to look busy if she came out. And I didn’t want her to ask a bunch of questions.

  “Better make a latte for the sheriff and a drip for Mac,” Dad said, taking out his wallet and glancing anxiously toward the open kitchen door. I lined up two more cups, then packed some espresso shots and got them working.

  “Cooper and Morgan are on their way to grab Skyler out of the county jail. I haven’t heard from them in a bit,” Dad said, digging out some cash from his wallet. “That worries me a little.”

  While I steamed the milk, the door chimed. Trotting in alongside Ms. Wilson, Butch wore a bright yellow slicker. Raindrops speckled Ms. Wilson’s trench coat.

  “I’ll be right with you,” I called, pouring the shots into the cups and adding chocolate for Dad’s drink and then milk to both cups.

  Dad put on the lids as I rang up his total. I slid his money into the drawer and handed him change.

  “I’ll check in with you after I’m done at Pinter’s,” he told me before he grabbed the cardboard tray of drinks and headed out the door.

  Ms. Wilson stepped up to the counter, the tags on Butch’s collar jingling. An uneasy smile floated on her lips. “What was that about Mr. Pinter?”

  “Oh, I don’t know the details. But it’s not good,” I mumbled.

  Ms. Wilson’s expression morphed to horrified. “He seemed fine Friday. The police are at his house?”

  I nodded. “Cappuccino, right?” I wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible.

  “Was that your dad?” Maggie said, coming out from the kitchen. I kept packing grounds into the portafilter, eager to get the shots pulled for Ms. Wilson’s drink.

  “It was George. Apparently, he’s going to Mr. Pinter’s house,” Ms. Wilson said to Maggie, her voice robotic, flat. “Something’s happened to him.”

  Maggie leaned on the counter on her elbows. “Oh, wow. I thought I heard sirens earlier.”

  “I hope it’s not another fire,” Ms. Wilson said, her hands shaky as she drew a few bills from her pocketbook. Her skin looked pale.

  “I don’t think so,” I muttered, spooning foam atop the shots of espresso in the to-go cup. I added a lid and handed the drink to Ms. Wilson. “You look pretty upset. You and Mr. Pinter were close, I guess.”

  She accepted the cup from me. “I only got to know him in the last few weeks. He was helping me with a project.”

  “Is that what you needed the historical society archive boxes for?” Maggie asked in a conversational tone, straightening from her leaning position. She cocked her head at Ms. Wilson. “Researching Millicent Cardew or just weird things in our town in general?”

  Ms. Wilson’s smile tightened. “You’re right, my motives weren’t only to help you organize. I’ve always been interested in the mysterious and unexplained. Lily knows about that.”

  “Oh, she does?” Maggie said, her voice taking on a suspicious edge. “What types of unexplained things are you looking into?”

  “I’ve got to go get more beans from the back,” I said, hurrying away from whatever was brewing with Maggie. I took my time, catching my breath in the storeroom for a moment.

  When I came back, Maggie had her hands on her hips and Ms. Wilson was gone. “I don’t like that woman. I gave her the benefit of the doubt at the volunteer meeting the other day, but she really strikes me as a taker. You know the type? Always asking for things but not actually reciprocating?”

  I let out a breath. “What are you trying to say, Maggie?”

  Maggie shrank back a little, her posture relaxed. “Nothing, honey. I just really don’t like her. You’re right, I shouldn’t have trusted her with those boxes from the archives. Anyway… I asked her to bring those boxes back to me tonight. I’ll stay late. I’ve got more dough to mix up for the weekend pizza orders.”

  “I can be here if you want.”

  “It’s not your turn to close,” Maggie said, moving to the clipboard with our calendar on the wall. “You don’t have to hang around.”

  “Okay.” I had a funny feeling in my stomach. I didn’t like the idea of Ms. Wilson and Maggie meeting alone late at night in the shop.

  Around seven, I packed up my things and hung up my apron. Maggie assured me she’d be fine. But as I left, I still didn’t feel good about it.

  Especially not after what had happened to Mr. Pinter.

  ***

  After work, I went home, and as I hung my coat in the mudroom of our house, my stomach growled at the scent of baked chicken and maple glazed sweet potatoes. Fawn was practicing some Thanksgiving ideas, since it was only about a week away. She was insisting on making the full feast herself and had been saving recipes to an inspiration board online. As a consequence, lately everything she made for us had maple syrup or pumpkin in it.

  As I entered the kitchen, I noticed everything was laid out on the counter, buffet style, but no one was eating at the table. I heard voices coming from the dining room, which we only used for company. I’d only had a muffin at work, so I grabbed a plate and heaped it full, then headed out to join everyone.

  I paused in my tracks when I noticed a slender, dark-haired kid sitting between Cooper and Morgan on one side of the table, my sisters on the other.

  “This is Skyler, Lily,” Dad said from the head of the table.

  “Hey,” the guy mumbled. He was maybe a little older than the twins. Against the sharp, angular features of his face, his brown eyes were so intense I could barely see where the pupil ended and the iris began. The jean jacket over his black hoodie was dirty at the cuffs. His fingers gripped his knife and fork like he was afraid someone would swipe his half-finished pile of chicken and sweet potatoes.

  I nodded a hello at him, then shot Dad a questioning look. He gestured with a half-eaten roll for me to take a seat.

  “So, he’s hanging with us?” I asked, sinking into a seat next to Morgan.

  “We’ll go start cleaning up,” Rose said, pulling on Fawn’s arm.

  Cooper leaned forward on the table, placing his elbows on either side of his plate. “I’d offer Skyler to stay at my place, but I’m so remote.”

  Dad moved a piece of roll across his plate, mopping up the chicken’s sauce. The air was tense, strained. “He needs to stay in town,” he said.

  “So I don’t get a say?” Skyler said, scowling as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  “The only say you have is that you won’t jump bail,” Cooper said.

  “No one told you to bail me out,” the kid answered, snorting out a laugh.

  Dad leaned forward, on the verge of a growl. “Ezra washed his hands of you. Your other friends abandoned you. We couldn’t leave you there to change at the full moon.”

  “I changed in worse places than a cell,” Skyler replied.

  “Skyler.” Morgan’s tone was calm, patient. “I know you understand if you transform in custody, you expose the race and your pack.”

  Skyler set down his knife and fork. “I have no pack. You just made that clear.”

  “While you’re our guest, you’ll act like you belong to ours.” Dad pushed away his plate and sat up a little taller in his chair.

  “Some pack. If it includes a two-footer like this guy,” Skyler said, a disgusted tone accompanying his snotty look toward Cooper.

 
“Wait—so he’ll stay here, with us?” I said, surprised Dad would welcome him, but then again, this guy probably had nowhere else to go.

  “Like I’d want to.” Hurt flashed in Skyler’s eyes.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize that was the plan,” I said, backpedaling. “It’s probably the safest place in town.”

  “I suppose my flat is an option. He can take the couch,” Morgan said.

  “Lily, let me talk to you in the kitchen.” Dad got up and beckoned me to follow him.

  Rose scraped plates and loaded them in the dishwasher, while Fawn finished putting away the leftovers. “Skyler’s staying with us?” she said, wrinkling her nose. “He eats like he was raised by—”

  “Don’t say it.” Dad held up a hand. “He’ll be our guest because that’s the right thing to do, but we also need to keep an eye on him. Ezra didn’t save him. Skyler’s own pack left him behind for some reason. He could be in real trouble. He may not have set the auto shop on fire, but maybe he knows who did.”

  “A witness,” Rose murmured, setting the serving spoon back in the pan of sweet potatoes.

  “Potentially, yes.” Dad leaned against the counter.

  “You think it’s safe?”

  “He’ll be fine. And we do have the option to have him bunk with Morgan if there is a problem. Honestly, I’d feel safer having him under my roof.”

  I didn’t like the idea of him staying with Morgan, but I didn’t trust him to be in our house either. “Won’t the sheriff think that’s weird, letting a suspect stay with you?”

  Dad winced. “Yeah, that’s why we’re not going to tell her he’s here.”

  “What, like keep him under house arrest?” Fawn said. “Can you get a spare ankle bracelet? Like the kind they made Kyle Robbins wear?”

  Now it was my turn to wince. My ex-boyfriend, Kyle, was currently on house arrest at his folks’ house, pending his trial for committing burglaries around town.

  “Skyler is not a prisoner. He’s a guest,” Dad reiterated.

  “Wait— He’s going to school with us?” Rose asked, pausing in wiping down the counter.

  Dad shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe he can help Morgan with his repair projects. That way, he can keep an eye on him during the day,” I said, seeing Dad’s point about keeping Skyler close.

  “How long is he staying? I mean, where’s he going to sleep, the couch?” Rose said.

  Dad let out a deep breath. “Your room. It’s closest to mine and doesn’t have easy roof access like Fawn’s.”

  Fawn turned a shade of pink, as if we all didn’t know how often she snuck out of the house on that roof to go see Lewis.

  “You can share with me, Rose,” I offered. “I’ve got enough room.”

  “Come on,” Dad said, tapping me on the shoulder. “Finish your dinner at the table. He’s not a bad kid. He’s just scared.”

  “Jail will do that to a guy,” Fawn said.

  Dad shot her a look. “Homework. Upstairs. Now.”

  Fawn rolled her eyes and took off with Rose.

  Shrugging, I followed Dad into the dining room, prepared to make small talk with this stranger who hours before had been in police custody.

  ***

  “He’s had a shower and I’ve given him clean clothes,” Dad said, coming into the kitchen as I switched on the dishwasher a while later. “Kid’s exhausted.”

  Cooper had gone already, and Morgan had joined in with helping with the washing up while Dad got Skyler settled. I loved that Morgan called it “washing up.”

  “We’re about done,” I said.

  Morgan dried his hands on a towel. “You’re quite sure you don’t want me to take the couch downstairs tonight.”

  “Kind of you to offer, but we’ll be fine, son.”

  I winked at Morgan. Small victories, I figured. I scooped some apple crisp from the dish on the stove into a bowl, dolloping it with whipped cream.

  “Skyler knows we’ll hunt him down if he flees. His hoodie should be burned, but it’s good for scent tracking, so I’ll keep it, just in case. The rest of his stuff gets a good washing.” Dad headed into the mudroom with a bag of clothes, leaving me and Morgan alone with our desserts.

  “Who are these tough wolves he’s running with? Did he tell you anything on the drive from jail?” I asked Morgan as we took seats at the table.

  “I’m afraid he’s not exactly a chatterbox,” Morgan said.

  “He might know who set the fire. If it wasn’t him.”

  “Department’s got bigger issues now,” Dad replied, coming back through the kitchen. “We don’t have a suspect in Mr. Pinter’s case, yet.”

  My stomach dropped. In the midst of everything else going on, I’d almost forgotten that Dad had been processing a crime scene earlier that day. “What happened?”

  “Suspected homicide.” Dad leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms. “He was bloodied, as if he’d fought back. The house was ransacked, maybe someone staging a robbery after the fact. His garage still had a full arsenal. More than the usual hunting rifles. Semi-automatics, that kind of thing.”

  “Mr. Pinter? Wow.” I remembered how quiet he’d seemed, how calm. I’d been hoping that it’d all been a mistake, that the books he’d given to Ms. Wilson had been coincidence, that he hadn’t been one of them.

  Dad nodded. “As far as we know, not a single gun was missing from the full rack in the garage. Strange a thief wouldn’t have stolen those.”

  Morgan nodded. “They’d bring a pretty penny on the black market.”

  “If they’d been after guns instead of Mr. Pinter.” Dad washed his hands at the sink. “Oh, we found face painting makeup in a cupboard. The kind you’d use for Halloween, if you wanted to be a zombie.”

  “So it happened either last night or this morning, when Skyler was still locked up,” I said.

  “There’s no way Skyler did it. But he may know something about who did,” Dad said. “He’s barely had his first moon. He’s a scared kid. And everyone he knows abandoned him.”

  Dad poured a glass of water. While he sipped it, he gazed out at the night. It was breezy, with the kind of wind that swirls leaves past the windows and makes the tree limbs sway. The full moon would be coming in just over a week, which was all the more reason to keep Skyler with us. He’d have to change and run the forest, like me and Dad. Probably with us, this time.

  “Anyway,” Dad said, setting down his glass in the sink. “I have an early day tomorrow. I’ll say good night.” He walked over and patted me on the back, then moved to the door.

  “I’ll come by for Skyler tomorrow,” Morgan said.

  Dad paused on the threshold. “That’s good of you. He could use a friend.”

  After Dad had gone, I leaned across the table and kissed Morgan lightly, the taste of apples, brown sugar, and cinnamon fresh on our lips. It felt good to have Morgan in our house and to have the tension between him and my dad dissolving. He kissed me again, reaching a hand up into my hair and letting the ponytail holder I’d had on drop to the ground.

  That sense of falling, the sensation of everything around us fading away, hit me. The smell of his skin, rich with his cologne and the hint of forest, enveloped me. My hands moved to his back and I drew him toward me, the chairs seeming too far apart, the kitchen floor suddenly seeming like a much better idea. I felt a flicker of desire turn into something like a cramp in my stomach, then in my bones. As if the wolf was aching to get out. I stiffened a little, pulling back, and covered my mouth with my palm.

  Morgan stared at me, his amber eyes glittering. “I should go,” he said.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what…”

  He gave me an embarrassed smile. “You do know. I felt you start to shift.” He raised a hand to his collarbone and drew out his lupine stone, the pendant that kept him from shifting involuntarily. “I probably would have too, were it not for this.”

  “Does that mean if we, you know, were together
that we’d turn.”

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “But I haven’t been with another wolf. Only human girls.”

  Of course I knew that he wouldn’t be inexperienced, but the thought of him with someone else made me a little jealous. I’d had my first time with Kyle, my ex, that summer, and that’d been nothing special. Hadn’t been very much fun, actually. More about him than me. With Morgan, I sensed it’d be different. It already was.

  He took my hand and held it, palm up, toward his lips, kissing it softly. “Let’s revisit this another night.”

  I nodded, looking away. This was all new—wanting to be physical with someone I knew I loved. Someone who was a wolf like me. And he was right, this wasn’t a good time or place. He released my hand and I walked him to the back door. As we said good night, the chill of the night wind dispelled any thoughts I’d had about letting everything I felt for Morgan loose.

  But above, the half moon grinned down at me, as if she knew.

  ***

  As I climbed the stairs to go to bed, I heard voices coming from Rose’s room. I peeked around the corner and saw Skyler sitting on the bed in a pair of Dad’s sweat pants and a tee. Rose was pulling her robe and nightgown from her closet.

  “We’re not working for those losers,” Skyler said. “I don’t even know this Nathaniel guy.”

  “He’s the tall one, skinnier than his brother,” Rose said, then she noticed me in the doorway. A guilty look flashed in her blue eyes. Probably at the mention of Nathaniel, whom we both knew was violent and dangerous. There was nothing redeemable about him, but Rose still seemed to care.

  “Have everything you need?” I asked Skyler.

  He shrugged. “Frilly pillows, ballerina posters, I’ve got it all.”

  Rose cut him a sharp, mock-hurt look.

  “Kidding!” Skyler said, holding up a hand in surrender.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “I’ll get you a toothbrush,” she said as she exited.

  I took a seat on the chair at Rose’s desk, studying Skyler. His hair, wet from the shower, was the color of a raven’s feathers. He looked thinner in Dad’s oversized T-shirt, not quite scrawny, but wiry. My guess is that his wolf was dark, fast, wily.