by Zoey Kane
“Okay, Mommy.” Claire gave a small, playful smile. Her face turned serious. “But what’ll we do about Ranger? Let Jack see him?”
“Oh, yes!” Zoey smiled wide. “Let’s see what he says when we show him Ranger’s not dead.”
“But what if he wants Ranger back?” Claire’s brow furrowed with hesitation.
Zoey glanced back at the wolf with concern in her eyes, too. She looked back at her daughter. “Although there’s so much pointing at Jack as the bad guy, we have to remember these are just hunches until there’s solid evidence. We’ve been wrong about people before.”
“The whole ‘innocent until proven guilty’ thing?” Claire arched a brow, relenting a bit. “I know you’re right. I guess we should give him this chance to explain things. I mean, he did send us a very nice thank you note… even if Oly did see him running from the fire.”
Somehow, their talk took a bit of the edge off. A bit. Claire hefted the box of paperwork, and Zoey let out Ranger. The three approached the estate, not knowing what to expect.
TWENTY-ONE
Although one could easily walk right through the charred remains of part of the home, Zoey pressed a finger to the doorbell, and it rang. The morning breeze played with their hair as they waited for the answer. Finally, heavy footfalls approached, and Jack opened the door. His graying dark hair was uncombed, and the bags under his eyes were red. No smile.
“What do you ladies want?” he asked.
Claire held out the box, but Jack’s eyes quickly zeroed in on Ranger. “My wolf!” he said in astonishment, and he appeared to be truly relieved. Dropping to his knees, he buried his face in his pet’s neck, and stroked his back vigorously.
The Kanes eyed each other with a look of surprise.
“How— What— Am I dreaming?” He peered up at the Kanes, still petting Ranger. If he was acting, Zoey thought, he deserved an Academy Award, if for nothing other than the small teardrop that spilled from his eye.
“No, this is real,” Zoey humored him. “I have to know, what made you think he was killed in the first place, Jack?”
Her arms feeling weaker by the second, Claire set down the box on the porch. Besides, its contents obviously weren’t as important at the moment.
Jack stood back up, his gray-blue eyes sincere. “My memory is kind of fuzzy, but I found his dead body out in in the woods. I was drinking pretty heavily that night, and I remember feeling this rage like never before… and, uh, Susie at Kilgory’s serving me a soda while I was lying down.” He shook his head, his face filled with confusion.
Claire mentally told herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. At least at the moment. “You know, with all of these alleged wolf attacks, you might have found a random one shot by a concerned citizen. Or maybe it was killed by another vicious animal.”
Jack nodded. “I mean, I suppose.” He gestured to Ranger. “He’s alive. There’s no other explanation. I’m sure I didn’t hallucinate. There was a wolf dead in the woods. There was.”
They stood there a moment longer before Jack offered, “Do you wanna have a seat?” Thankfully, he gestured toward the pristine wicker bench and chairs on the long porch rather than the sofa that now looked like pieces of burnt toast.
The ladies accepted, and Claire pointed to the box. “We saved some of your files. My mom thought they might be important to you.”
“Oh?” he said in surprise, as if being caught doing something wrong. He then recovered with a cheery “Ohhhh. Well, thank you so much. You two are swell. Have a seat. I’ll go get us some drinks.”
The ladies settled into their seats and peered out at the meadow and country fence they recently enjoyed from that same vantage point. Today, there were no clouds to joke about. Ranger had followed them and sprawled out at their feet.
Jack returned with three cans of Dad’s Root Beer. He wiped some soot off the cans with his flannel sleeve then passed them over. They cracked open their cans releasing a chorus of fizz. “Sounds almost as good as beer.” He laughed.
They took a moment to enjoy the scenery together. Zoey didn’t want to pounce on Jack with a ton of questions. She worked at calming her nerves by taking a couple of deep breaths. So when she blurted, “Why did you say you didn’t know about the fire when you did?” she cringed.
Claire coughed, having been in mid-gulp. Her eyes watering, she excused herself.
Jack said, “I didn’t know about the fire. I was down at the restaurant. What do you mean?”
“Someone said they saw you here,” Zoey said, setting her can between her knees, “driving away from the scene.’
Jack leaned forward, confused. “Who?”
“Just… someone…” Zoey said, shrugging a shoulder.
“Lemme guess,” he said, anger flashing in his eyes. “It was one of them cultists.”
Claire blinked, hoping her mother wouldn’t actually reveal Oly.
“Maaaaybe…” Zoey said, her light brown eyes averted.
“You know, ever since they started up their renovations, they’ve been treating me differently. I don’t know what it is,” he said, “but they’ve got something against me.”
Claire audibly cleared her throat. “Well, you did get into a bar fight with them.”
“Did not!” he nearly shouted. “Who came up with that lie, now?”
“We saw you, dear,” Zoey said. “Remember, the night you thought Ranger was killed, the night when things were kinda ‘fuzzy’?”
His face flushed and he pressed his palms against his eyes. “I was wondering about this welt I've got on the side of my head.”
Claire nearly whistled innocently at that remark.
He looked up and said, “I-I didn’t know I did that. But give me a break. I thought Ranger had been killed.”
The mother and daughter were beginning to wonder how many other bad-tempered things he could have done but conveniently couldn’t remember. Like murder. Three times.
Zoey slowly nodded. “I can understand that would make anyone furious.”
Jack leaned back in his wicker chair and took a sip of his drink. “I’m telling you, I hope you find out who this killer is fast. It’s getting out of control.”
“We found Mr. Worsen dead in the woods, just before we arrived,” Zoey said, agreeing with the sentiment.
“That banker who threatened to buy up all this land? I’m not surprised.” Jack took another sip. “I’ve been trying to buy up different plots over the last couple of years, and each time, I wind up figuring it’s not worth it. The loonies will never give it up that easily. Especially not their precious saloon, which, by the way, doesn’t even sell one alcoholic beverage. What a waste.”
Playing dumb, Claire asked, “So what are you going to do about it?” She remembered the three men—Lowe, Jack and Mr. Worsen—each threatening the others with the law.
“I’ve got a lawyer.”
“What will be your case’s argument?” Claire pressed, wondering if he might bring up his actual surname.
“Oh, it’s easy enough to show how these crazies are nothing more than backwoods squatters, adding nothing really of value around here. And I don’t care if the Stiles do have some legitimacy to the area; it’s the truth. And me—I’m an entrepreneur, well-respected in Lanternwood and beyond.” He took another swig of his drink.
“You don’t have any other reason you want to buy up this land?” Claire dared to ask, thinking about all that silver Clifford had attested to.
Jack’s face sobered, and there was a faraway look in his eye. “I, uh, guess you can say, I feel a kinship with this area.”
There was a moment of silence. Ranger was still lying at the Kanes’ feet, his eyes now closed. “Well, thank you for your hospitality,” Zoey said, standing up and disturbing his nap. “Do you mind if we use your phone to call the police about Mr. Worsen?”
Jack hesitated. “My phone isn’t working, ladies. You know, the fire. You might as well head back to The Howliday Inn and call from there.
Sorry.”
The ladies passed a secret glance at each other before shaking his hand goodbye. As they walked to their car, Ranger came sprinting after them.
“Ranger!” Jack called. “C’mon, boy!”
But Ranger didn’t so much as even glance back at his owner. When Jack hurried over to grab him by his golden necklace, Ranger turned and gave a soft growl of warning.
Jack said with anger, “Fine. Go off with them!” He turned and stalked back to the house.
The mother and daughter eyed each other, wondering if they should actually take Ranger. Zoey beeped the doors unlocked, and right when she opened the door, Ranger hustled inside.
*
The Kanes showed Chief Goldman and a couple of his men where the body was and, yes, it was Mr. Worsen. It was the same scenario as the other two bodies. Looked like an animal attack. The three men all turned and stared at Ranger for a moment.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Chief,” Zoey said. “His DNA was ruled out.”
“You’re right.” The large man rubbed his goatee.
“Besides,” she added, “Ranger was sleeping at Claire’s feet all night, back at the hotel.”
The Kanes told the whole story of what had happened the previous night with everybody present, how no one knew that the duo was there, except for Stewart, Clifford and Ranger.
“Why was that, may I ask, ladies?” said an officer.
“Because,” answered Claire, “we were hiding behind a tree, spying.”
That brought a grin.
“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me, Sergeant!” barked the Chief at the grin. “Okay,” he said to the girls, “if we need you further, we’ll give you a call.”
Driving away, a sudden hunger pain made Zoey think of Kilgory’s Saloon. “How’s my makeup look?” she asked.
TWENTY-TWO
Ranger followed the Kanes into Kilgory’s Saloon. Zoey greeted the several who were sporadically seated with a big smile. “Hey, you werewolves… Hi! Do you mind if we bring a wolf in for lunch?”
“Of course!” Susie, the bartender, said. “Ranger’s invited in any time. We have some meat for him, even.” Everyone was all smiles, including the Kanes.
Claire took the side of the booth that faced the door. Ranger hopped up beside her. Zoey didn’t care where she sat as long as she didn’t have a ceiling fan blowing down her neck. Lunch was promptly served: steaming bowls of homemade chicken noodle soup with cornbread. Always a favorite. To top it off was apple pie à la mode.
Claire got lost in watching the characters who came in and out. She smoothed some of her hair, wondering if Noble might make an appearance.
Zoey busied herself with studying a large mural on the wall beside them. It was a painting of a piney mountaintop highlighted by a super-moon. A silhouette of a wolf was howling to it.
When the older waitress brought Ranger a bowl of water to wash down his burger, Zoey asked her a question. “What business is on the other side of this wall?”
“Nobody’s there.” She went on to explain, “There’s a lot of store vacancies like that. Buildings this old need a lot of repair. Sometimes it’s too costly.”
Ranger didn’t mind having his plate removed to the kitchen. Instead, he growled at the entrance of the next guest. Zoey turned to see Lowe come through the door. His longish brown hair was smooth and wavy. He wore a tight T-shirt and jeans that accentuated his strong physique, bringing to mind a certain werewolf romance. Zoey nearly growled, herself, at the sight of him… in a good way.
When he saw the Kanes, Lowe came right over with a big, cute smile. “Isn’t this my lucky day?” he said.
“Hi. Oh, I see you hurt your hand,” said Zoey. An Ace bandage was wrapped around it.
“Yeah. I hate to admit it, but I punched a guy last night.”
“Wow!” said Claire. “Another fight?”
“I don’t know why,” he shrugged, “but I just keep on meeting men who want to take my place with your mother.” He made a couple of boxing moves. “Had to defend myself.”
“No kidding,” replied Zoey. Although flattered, she wasn’t falling for it.
“Where’s Noble?” Claire asked without thinking. Her face blushing, she said, “I, uh, mean that I usually see you two together. Like me and my mom.”
“He’s working on more renovations. Ranger looks good,” he said. He reached over to pet him but was repelled by a nasty bark.
“Oops!” Lowe said, smiling again.
Susie called from the bar, joking, “You’re stepping on his territory, Lowe!
“I guess so. So, you guys, how ‘bout another double date?”
“Why don’t you call us later with the particulars?” Zoey postponed. She had something else on her mind. “We can talk about it then.”
“I’ll do that. I gotta run for now.” He headed over to the bar, saying over a shoulder, “I just came in to get some ice.”
“Claire,” Zoey said seriously, “check out that painting while I go pay the bill. I want you to tell me what you think of it.”
While her mother was busy, Claire stayed at the booth, scrutinizing the large painting across the old wall. It was pretty darn good but not fine art by any means.
Zoey re-joined her daughter. “What do you think?”
“Okay, I looked over the painting, but what is it that you’re impressed with?”
“The clue. Toast a silver moon.”
“The moon in the mural isn’t silver,” Claire said. “It’s white.”
“I know. Look a little harder, sweetie.” Zoey raised up and down her eyebrows with knowledge. “In the moon.”
Claire’s eyes slowly scanned the orb and settled on something small and round slightly painted over. It was unmistakably a coin. “Hey, is that one of those silver coins?”
“Yes,” Zoey said.
Claire went to pick at the paint, but Zoey snatched her wrist. “Don’t bring attention to it. Let’s walk away like there’s nothing unusual.”
Once they were sitting comfortably in their red Lexus, Claire asked, “So does that mean we’re going to have to take a pickaxe to that wall? How’s everyone going to feel about that?”
“I have an idea.” Zoey batted her eyelashes. “Stewart has a metal detector, right?”
“Right,” Claire said, “but everyone will see—”
“No, they won’t. I have a plan.” Zoey smiled, thinking about the abandoned store that was on the other side of the saloon’s wall.
*
That evening, the Kanes stood in front of Clifford’s hotel room, ready to return Ranger. When Claire pressed his doorbell, it howled. “Where does he get this stuff?” she asked her mom.
Once the door opened, Ranger bolted inside, wagging his tail. Clifford gave a smile and waved bye to the Kanes. As they walked away, they heard the raucous tumbling around of wolves at play.
Next stop was Stewart’s. Stewart answered his door wearing a germ mask, his eyes puffy and his face pale. “Hi, sergeants,” he said with a whine.
Being a bit of a germaphobe, Zoey took a step back. “You look awful, Stewart.”
“I know,” he said with a stuffy, nasally voice. “Stewart’s not feeling well at all.”
“We’re sorry to hear that.” Claire eyed his camo PJs up and down.
Zoey said with an apologetic smile, “We were hoping to borrow your ATV and some supplies tonight.”
“Why?” His puffy eyes opened wider. “You going on another spying adventure?”
“No, no,” Zoey said, her eyes shifting to their fully-black attire in guilt. “We just want to go mining and detecting for… whatever.”
“Whatever? I love mining and detecting for whatever!” Stewart exclaimed before he sneezed.
Zoey was thankful for his mask. “Maybe another night, when you’re well?”
“Yeah, darn it. I’m sorry I don’t feel well enough to accompany you. This is some flu. But feel free to use anything of mine. Even my metal detectors.”
/> “Detectorsss?” Claire repeated. “As in plural? More than one?”
“Yes, I didn’t misspeak. I not only have the traditional style you see used at beaches, but the wand kind that security people at airports and arenas use to do a quick body scan.”
“That’s amazing,” Zoey said, daring to step closer. She was thinking how that’d be so much more convenient, under the circumstances. “Tell me, do you have any tools, like a hammer or maybe a pickaxe?” She said the word pickaxe with a little too much emphasis, overly excited.
“A pickaxe?” he questioned. “Oh, for mining. No, I don’t have a pickaxe. But I do have a saw, crowbar, bat and some brass knuckles.”
The ladies cringed, sharing a frown. “Is there something you want to share with us, Stewart?” Claire asked.
“No. Stewart just likes to be prepared.”
“For, like, a mafia war,” Claire said, nodding.
“Or zombies,” he said.
“And I thought the mafia was a stretch,” Claire said.
Before they knew it, the Kanes were lugging around a duffel bag, minus the brass knuckles, about the size of a body. They secured it in the back seats of the ATV that was parked in the side lot. Claire strapped herself in the driver’s seat and inserted the key in the ignition. “What will we do if we actually find all those barrels of coins, Mom?”
“That’s why I had Stewart keep one of the walkie-talkies.” She sat down and put her large sunglasses on, even though they were in the dark. “We can ask him to notify the authorities.”
Claire pressed the throttle, and they were off.
TWENTY-THREE
The night air was a bit chilly, whooshing across their cheeks as they drove and rippling the black scarves around their hair. As they neared Rottenwood’s village of dilapidated structures, Claire veered off into the side brush, bumping them along deeper into the forest. “We should probably get one of these for our property,” she said, feeling totally comfortable and capable.
Claire soon drove them down an alleyway and parked in between some old boards and stacked boxes. No one was around. Zoey inspected the old back door of an abandoned store. Several ancient two by fours were nailed across the doorway. Zoey pushed the door through the splintery barrier. It fell with a loud bang and puff of dust. The ladies cringed.