Bumble

by Connie Suttle

  "That looks great," Adele said, admiring their work on the display when she returned. "I can fix lunch here or take you by the Burger Hut or Taco Palace," she offered.

  "Taco Palace," Sali said immediately.

  "All right. Come on, then." Adele flipped the closed sign in the window, setting the little clock on it so customers would know she'd be back in fifteen minutes.

  "What's going on?" Sali and Ashe stared at three highway patrol cars sitting in the Taco Palace parking lot as the old Ford bounced through the entrance.

  "They probably wanted to have lunch together," Adele said. "Here's money. Try to bring some of it back." She handed Ashe a twenty.

  "I'll try to keep the taco vacuum turned on low," Ashe elbowed Sali and slid out of the truck behind his friend.

  "I'll be back in an hour," his mother promised before driving away, the truck creaking a little as it pulled out of the parking lot.

  Ashe blinked when he walked up to the counter—the county sheriff was also there with one of his deputies, their wide backs blocking the counter from Ashe and Sali's view. The sheriff and his deputy carried their trays of food to a table shoved against the same one the highway patrol officers were using. "What's going on?" Ashe asked the woman behind the counter as he and Sali came forward to place their orders. They recognized her; her family owned Taco Palace.

  "They found a body south of town," the woman replied. She looked to be in her late forties, but her red hair was still red, no gray, and she had a nice smile.

  "Wow. Anyone from Cordell?" Sali asked.

  "No. Not that I know of," she said. "It'll probably be on the news tonight." Both boys turned in their order, grabbed a table and Sali offered to pick up the tray when their names were called.

  * * *

  "Mom, the police found a body south of town; that's why they were at the Taco Palace." Ashe and Sali climbed into Adele's old truck when she came to pick them up.

  "I know, honey," Adele said softly.

  "How did you find out?" Ashe watched his mother's face; it appeared pale and drawn.

  "Greta Rocklin called. She said it was Terry Smith, Randy Smith's father."

  Chapter 4

  "What was he doing here?" Ashe and Sali both knew Terry Smith was human. Randy Smith's mother, Dawn, was werewolf.

  "No idea. Greta said he was shot and left in a ditch south of town. It was on the noon news."

  "Do they know who did it?" Ashe's eyes were wide with shock and worry.

  "Not yet. They're waiting for the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation to make a statement. Since the Smiths lived in New Mexico, they've called state authorities in on this."

  "This is terrible," Ashe muttered softly. Sali dug an elbow into Ashe's ribs.

  "You two shouldn't even know who Terry Smith is," Adele pulled away from the Taco Palace.

  "Mom, the older kids gossip sometimes—about Randy Smith," Ashe's voice was nearly a whisper. "They're all afraid of getting into trouble if they let something slip."

  "Honey, don't worry about that, all right?" Adele patted Ashe's knee. Ashe knew what his mother was thinking; he'd thought it often enough recently. But his mother didn't know that he'd hacked the Principal's computer and read the full contents of the note.

  Watering the plants later, Sali glanced at Ashe a time or two. And when Adele was far enough away, Sali whispered at Ashe. "You're still going tonight. Right?"

  "Yeah." Ashe stared at his shoes. The water from the hose Sali held made a tiny river that parted around Ashe's old sneakers and ran toward the drain in the greenhouse.

  "You'll be all right, just get in that tree and don't make a sound," Sali hissed.

  "That's easy for you to say," Ashe mumbled. The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. His desire not to get caught warred with his craving to know what the Pack would do about Randy Smith and what the latest on James and Terry Smith's murders might be. The chance to hear that information firsthand made Ashe itch with longing.

  "Dude, I'd go myself if I were able." Sali's words forced Ashe away from his thoughts.

  "Sali, will you do something for me?" Ashe gazed at Sali. Sali's black eyes stared back across a slatted table filled with plants.

  "What?" Sali lifted the hose again to water plants on the table.

  "Tell Cori I'm sorry about James."

  * * *

  "Son, keep the doors locked," Aedan instructed as he prepared to take Ashe's mother out for her full moon flights.

  "Okay, Dad." Ashe nodded at his father.

  "Don't let anyone in," Aedan continued. "I don't care who it is, don't open the door. Your mother and I can let ourselves in. Is that understood?"

  "All right, Dad." Ashe was worried, now. What was making his father afraid? He'd watched the six o'clock news with his mother and there wasn't much information to be had regarding Terry Smith's death. The only evidence given was that he'd been shot, his body left in a gully south of Cordell. A reporter had interviewed the Washita county sheriff, but all he said was the investigation was ongoing. Ashe wondered what they'd say if they knew about James's death.

  Both parents walked through the back door into the garage while Ashe watched. Aedan had one of the automatic door openers in his pocket and closed the garage door behind him. It was only a few minutes after nine, so Ashe gave his parents fifteen minutes to get away before sneaking out of the house and shutting the garage door again, using the keypad outside the garage. Slipping into his denim jacket, Ashe began to run.

  * * *

  "Dang." Ashe was halfway up the tree when he looked down. If he fell, he could break something—at least fifteen feet stretched between him and the ground below. "Don't think about it," Ashe grumbled to himself, grasping the trunk firmly and climbing farther up. His watch showed nine forty-five as he settled into a fork where the trunk split and branched out.

  Each of the forked branches was as thick as Ashe's waist and quite solid. Ashe wriggled on his perch to get comfortable, braced his shoes against the tree trunk and prepared to wait for the werewolf Pack to arrive. It didn't take long, as it turned out. Marcus and Denise DeLuca came to the clearing with Micah and Greta Rocklin; Packmaster and Second, with their mates. Ashe heard them clearly and blinked several times when he heard Marcus say a word that he'd ground Sali for using. They were discussing Terry Smith and why he'd come to Cordell, followed by discussion and speculation on why he'd been murdered.

  "And right after James," Greta Rocklin, Ashe's Transformational Arts teacher said. Ashe could tell from her voice that she was troubled over the event.

  "No way the two are connected. This is just a strange coincidence," Marcus said. "Has to be."

  "You think Terry found out that Randy sent the letter?"

  "It's possible. He may have come to plead Randy's case. He has a right to petition the Pack before we make a decision."

  "As a human mate. That doesn't carry much weight," Micah observed. "It would have been better if Dawn came."

  "Maybe not. She was really mad and accused us of framing Randy," Denise DeLuca pointed out.

  "That's ridiculous. Ben heard Randy talk about werewolves with that human child. Nathan placed compulsion on the human so he'd forget. All those records are in the Grand Master's files, now."

  Ashe knew who Ben was. Benjamin Billings. Principal. PhD. Werewolf. The one who would volunteer to execute nineteen-year-old Randy Smith. Ashe shuddered, gripping the tree trunk even tighter. He couldn't help but wonder where Randy was right then and if he knew his father was dead.

  "The Hoffs think Old Harold killed James." There it was; part of the information Ashe waited for. Sali wasn't aware of this and Ashe hadn't mentioned eavesdropping on his father's conversation with Nathan Anderson.

  "Old Harold wouldn't do that." Greta Rocklin snapped at Marcus, her voice clear in the moonlit night.

  "I don't think so either, but the Hoffs and Pat Roberts do," Marcus' voice sounded placating, as if he were attempting to calm Mrs. Rocklin d
own. "They're the reason I called the Grand Master instead of the Packmaster from Oklahoma City."

  "If it wasn't a vampire, then who might have done it? And no scent around the body except Cori's? That's really strange." Ashe could see Sali's mother through the oak's branches; she'd wandered away from the others, staring at the full moon overhead, her arms hugged tightly against her body. Ashe knew her well enough to realize how upset she was.

  "Cori couldn't have done it," Micah Rocklin said. "James would have gotten away from her. He was a fully-grown werewolf and she's still not a mature panther." Micah was defending Cori, making Ashe appreciate Marcus' Second more than usual.

  "We're back to the scents, then. Even Old Harold couldn't erase his scent. I don't think it's possible." Marcus paced in agitation.

  "Well, James didn't just drop from the sky," Greta pointed out. "We don't have any bird shifters large enough to carry the body." The four werewolves went quiet as others approached. Ashe heard them too—Marco shuffled dejectedly behind Mr. Dodd, the history teacher. More werewolves came, including the Hoffs and Pat Roberts.

  Pat was an aging male werewolf, with wrinkles lining his face and gray in his hair. Ashe figured Pat had to be two hundred years old or more—werewolves didn't turn gray until they were quite old. None of the gathering werewolves carried lights; their night vision was nearly as sharp as his vampire father’s. Ashe could see well enough in the moonlight; colors weren't visible to him, but he knew the barest tips of green grass were showing through the dead foliage on the ground and tiny, new leaves were out on the oak in which he sat.

  Ashe was as still and quiet as he could be once all the werewolves were assembled. Marcus raised the question of what action the Pack should take regarding Randy Smith. Only a small amount of discussion was devoted to Terry Smith's death, and by a nearly unanimous vote, it was determined that Randy Smith should be executed for breaking Pack Law.

  Marcus would submit the decision to the Grand Master, and the Grand Master's trackers would be dispatched to take Randy into custody and bring him before the Cloud Chief Pack during the next full moon. Ashe swallowed nervously at the verdict. Randy Smith had a month to live, and true to the note in his computer, Principal Billings offered to take the execution when Marcus asked for a volunteer.

  "Now, you all know the Grand Master is sending an investigator on Thursday," Marcus went on. "So we won't officially discuss James's death tonight. We can hold a special meeting after the investigator gets here and sniffs around. I don’t want anyone speculating and spreading rumors while we gather information. Is that clear?" Marcus paused and Ashe imagined that Sali's father was staring the Pack down. "The Vampire Council is also sending an Enforcer, so we'll have two working the case."

  "Like any vampire will tell the truth if it involves one of theirs," Pat Roberts spat. Ashe recognized the old werewolf's voice easily.

  "Pat, did you hear what I said?" Marcus growled. Ashe looked up—the Moon was riding high overhead and he knew what that meant. The werewolves were restless and about to turn. Tempers were flaring and becoming volatile.

  "I heard. Don't have to agree," Pat growled back.

  "Keep your mouth shut. That's an order," Marcus growled louder. Engrossed in the conversation and ignoring his growing discomfort, Ashe's foot slipped against the tree trunk where he'd braced it, sending a cascade of bark tumbling down. Ashe froze.

  "What was that?" Micah hissed.

  "Came from this direction," Marcus walked swiftly toward Ashe's tree. Right then, Ashe wanted to be invisible. Desperately. Fervently. He was going to get caught, his parents would be notified and he'd be punished at the very least. It was an unspoken rule in Cloud Chief; you didn't interfere with Pack business. And if the werewolves gathering below were angry enough and moon-touched enough, Ashe might not make it home at all.

  "It came from right around here. Smell anything?" Principal Billings asked. Several male werewolves milled about the oak where Ashe sat. Ashe had never been so terrified in his life.

  "I don't smell anything except the usual," Frank Dodd replied. "Kids have been running through here again."

  "No, it came from this tree." Principal Billings was staring up at Ashe's tree. Staring right at him.

  "There's nothing up there." Marcus pulled out a flashlight and shone it right at Ashe. "See?" Ashe stared down at Marcus and the others, who were all peering up at his branch. How could they miss him? Ashe was thin, but he wasn't small.

  "Could have been an owl," Micah said, turning away. Ashe would have been puzzled if he weren't so frightened. They'd all stared right at him. The other werewolves were following Micah as he walked away from the tree. Ashe was ready to breathe a sigh of relief when he realized he wasn't breathing. Looking downward, Ashe couldn't see his feet. As werewolves began turning for the hunt, a terrified Ashe floated away.

  * * *

  Ashe had no idea how he'd managed to float home but he'd done it. Astonishingly, once he'd focused on where he wanted to go, he'd sped off in that direction. But what to do now? Ashe was still floating as he hovered before the keypad on the garage door. Need to be solid. Need to be solid, Ashe chanted silently. Miraculously, Ashe became corporeal, dropping onto the gravel drive with a thump.

  "Still here? Shoes, clothes?" Ashe whispered to himself as he patted his chest with hands that shook. How had this happened? He'd wished to be invisible and that's exactly what he'd been. Thirty-seven adult werewolves had stared straight at him and none of them had seen a thing. And then, to make it more wondrous, Ashe had floated home, much swifter than he'd made the trip on foot, even running. Trembling slightly, it took several seconds for Ashe to recall the code that would get him inside the garage. Closing the heavy steel door afterward, Ashe punched the second code to get through the door into the kitchen, nearly falling as he lurched through the entryway once the code released the lock.

  "Now what?" Ashe wanted to tug his hair out by the roots. He wanted to tell Sali. And then not tell Sali. If everybody found out he could become invisible, then it wouldn't take much to add two and two and come up with his spying on Pack business. Telling everybody would have to wait, Ashe decided, still quivering from his accidental discovery. Just to be sure, Ashe raced downstairs to the bathroom and concentrated on becoming invisible again. In less than a second, Ashe stared at nothing in the large mirror. How was he doing this? He'd never heard of anything like this before. Concentrating again, Ashe watched as his body reappeared in a blink.

  "Wow," Ashe whispered to his image, watching as his lips formed the word.

  * * *

  "Ashe, honey, are you asleep?" Ashe's mother slipped inside his bedroom later.

  "Mom?" Ashe had been asleep but was glad his mother came in to check on him.

  "It's just us, hon. We're back." Adele Evans sat down on the edge of Ashe's bed and brushed hair away from his forehead. "Go back to sleep." She patted his shoulder and got up to leave.

  "G'night, Mom."

  "Goodnight, honey."

  * * *

  "Sali, they're gonna execute Randy Smith." Ashe waited until they were in a corner booth at the Burger Hut on Wednesday to whisper the news.

  "They'll do it at the next full moon then." Sali dipped a French fry in a puddle of ketchup and stuffed it into his mouth.

  "Sali, that's almost an entire family wiped out in the space of a month." Ashe stared at the young werewolf. How could he eat while discussing someone's death so casually?

  "Pack Law," Sali mumbled around a mouthful of food.

  "Sounds a little callous, don't you think?"

  Sali chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before answering. "Dude, look at it this way. We have to stay hidden. People will kill you and your mom and dad if they find out what you are. Oh, some humans will think it’s cool, but there are others who'd hate us and they'll get all of us. They think we're evil or something."

  "Anybody has the capacity for that," Ashe shoved half his burger in Sali's direction. "Not every human is go
od. Not every vampire or shifter is good either."

  "You're not gonna turn into a philosophizer, are ya?" Sali grinned and bit into Ashe's burger.

  "Sali, I may have to alter my impression of you," Ashe said. "You just used a five-syllable word."

  "I'll try not to let it happen again," Sali laughed.

  Picking dead leaves off caladium plants was their job for the afternoon. Brown or yellowing leaves were dumped in an old cardboard box as Ashe and Sali made their way through potted plants lined up in neat rows at the back of the greenhouse. While they worked, several customers came in to select plants. Ashe dutifully hauled out cut-off boxes filled with seedlings and loaded purchases into waiting cars or trucks. The weather was definitely warming up and people wanted to plant.

  Ashe and Sali walked to the Dumpster behind the store to empty the box of dead leaves before Adele closed up for the evening. "Dude, do you smell anything?" Sali asked after pounding the bottom of the box to get the last of the plant detritus out of it. The box would be reused—Adele didn't like throwing anything away if it could be recycled or repurposed.

  "Smell what?" Ashe's nose wasn't as sharp as Sali's, even when Sali was in human form.

  "Weird. Like ozone or something." Sali was still sniffing and following after whatever he'd smelled.

  "What?" Ashe trailed behind Sali, mystified.

  "You know, sort of like after a spring rain or something?"

  "Dude, I can't smell anything," Ashe grumbled, but didn't doubt Sali's ability to detect the scent. It hadn't been raining, either, although a spring storm was predicted for the following day.

  "Boys?" Adele's worried voice reached them from the back door of the greenhouse. They'd wandered behind the Dumpster, walking toward the wooden stockade fence at the edge of the property.

  "Here, Mom." Ashe grabbed Sali's arm, halting his best friend's search for a source of the mysterious scent.

  "Thank goodness." Ashe's mother muttered the words so softly that most people wouldn't have heard. Ashe heard.