The Wolf’s Daughter
By
Patricia La Barbera
World Castle Publishing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WCP
World Castle Publishing
Pensacola, Florida
Copyright © Patricia La Barbera 2013
ISBN: 9781938961991
First Edition World Castle Publishing March 15, 2013
http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com
Licensing Notes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
Cover: Karen Fuller
Photos: Shutterstock
Editor: Eric R. Johnston
Chapter One
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Tala tightened her grip on the cell phone. “I knew it as soon as I heard your voice. And that means I’m supposed to go back to the house, right?”
“You have responsibilities that—”
“Vanessa, don’t tell me about responsibilities after what happened there.”
“Blackthorn Road is a street like any other now, and the house is just a run-down Victorian needing a coat of paint. It’s time you faced your fear and realized the truth, Tala.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
***
“That one stinks.” The words conquered the heavy drone of the travelers who thronged outside the newsstand. A woman in a leopard jacket motioned with her platinum-blonde head toward the book Tala held and then moved closer. “Typical airport terminal stuff.”
Magnolia perfume hit Tala, and her stomach cramped. “It’s just a light read.” She gave the woman a half smile and continued reading the back cover: “An absorbing novel about the heartfelt journey of a broken woman who returns home to face her past.” The front cover, though, had no weapons, bodies, or blood. Just a hazy, dreamy scene of a woman walking through a field of wildflowers.
“What a stupid ending.” Leopard Jacket stuck out her tongue, pointed to it, and made a gagging sound. “You’re better off watching the in-flight movie.”
Tala raised her eyebrows. “How do you know I have a movie to look forward to?”
“I heard you at check-in. We’re on the same flight.”
“Oh, we are?” She put the book back on the shelf. “Maybe a mystery would be more appropriate.” Tala grabbed one whose cover had a man lurking under a streetlight in a park.
Leopard Jacket winked. “That’s more like it. Won’t put you to sleep.” She paused. “Here, let me help you with your carrier.” The woman picked it up and scrutinized the contents. “Never did like black cats.”
A spit and a low growl answered her.
“Thanks, uh…”
“Gladys. It means ‘lame,’ and I’m glad most people don’t know it.” She let out a belly laugh.
Tala glanced down at her Frankenstein boot. “Well, that would be a perfect name for me. I’m Tala. It means ‘stalking wolf’ in Native American.”
***
Eight, nine, ten. Counting clouds as the plane rose, Tala tried to ignore her pain. If only she hadn’t broken her foot. And that monster black boot… At least she didn’t have to use the crutches anymore. The man and woman on either side of her white knuckled the armrests. Was fear of flying contagious? Her stomach churned. She rubbed the beads of sweat off her forehead. Why did she always get a middle seat? And what was that smell? Garlic and curry? Maybe if she closed her eyes she’d stop thinking about how crowded the plane was. But when she did, it just made her more nervous.
Tala peeked into the cat carrier under the seat in front of her. La-la land. Too bad she wasn’t there yet with Maeve. She smiled, thinking how glad she was that Gladys sat several rows behind her. Although being slammed with magnolia would be better than what swirled around her.
After climbing through the ceiling of clouds, the Valium numbed her, and she closed her eyes, drifting off. The gray clapboard house loomed. How did she get there so soon? And why didn’t she remember getting off the plane? She floated up the stairs and onto the porch, where empty chairs rocked. Crosses she’d carved into the door frame had grown larger. The sky turned purple. Tala hesitated a moment and then knocked. First, nothing…then footsteps on the other side. The door creaked, and a bloody hand held it open.
“You’re too late,” her mother rasped. T A L in dripping letters ran red on her apron. She turned and weaved down the hall. Tala followed. The grandfather clock sped up its ticking as her heartbeats hammered. A metallic smell grew stronger as she approached the kitchen. Her father, framed in crimson, sprawled on the floor. She rushed to his side and shook him.
“You’ll never get the chance to tell anyone about this.” Her mother, reeking of alcohol, grabbed Tala, nails digging into her arm, and pulled her up.
Blood stained Tala’s hands. “No!” she kept on screaming.
The plane lurched. She opened her eyes. The Fasten Seatbelt sign glowed. Where was she now? What was happening to her? She had to get to her father. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe her mother was lying to her. Was it a dream? Was she losing her mind? She needed... She had to... Sleep overtook her again.
“Why?” she screamed at her mother. “Why?”
Shrill laughter shot through the room. Her mother drew closer. “Don’t you know?”
Backing up, she shook her head. Tala swallowed hard, tasting her fear.
“So I can finally kill you.” Her mother smiled. “You’re now a full-fledged Violent Maker, and I’m a Violent. The beatings up to now were just practice.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
Her mother shoved the body with her foot. “I’m surprised he never told you about the strains that run in the family.” Her face contorted with disgust and she spat. “He was a weak man. Not that any of this matters now. You’ll never learn the truth about the strain.” She sneered and drew a bloodstained knife from the apron’s ripped pocket. The blade flew to Tala’s neck, its point pressing in under her left ear.
“No, No, please—”
Thunder on the door made them both jump, and the knife clattered on the chipped tile.
“Police! Open up!”
Tala grabbed the knob and swung open the door. Two officers rushed in.
Her mother ran and hid behind one of them. She screamed. “Please, help me. Oh God, please... She’s trying to stab me.” Then she pointed to Tala. “She killed him. I just caught him after she...” Her mother shrieked. “Don’t let her k-kill me.” She fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands. “Oh God. Oh God.”
Tala woke to the sound of her own screams. “I didn’t kill him.” She glanced at the man and woman beside her, whose eyes widened with fear.
A flight attendant ran down the aisle. “What’s wrong?”
She drew in ragged breaths. Her eyelids were so heavy. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t... She closed her eyes.
Then cement-block walls surrounded her. She looked down at her hands. She wore the silver ring her boyfriend Matt had given her in high school. But how.... It had been stolen after she moved away from Wolfeboro.
“How old are you?” The detective’s scar zigzagged from the left side of his mouth up to his ear. A faint accent, maybe Russian or German. Eyes half shrouded like a lizard’s. He leaned forward in the straight-backed metal
chair and held his pen like someone would hold a knife.
The interrogation room’s atmosphere of violence and sadness threatened to suffocate Tala. Her eyes darted past him, and she stared at a wall stain resembling an open-mouthed animal. “I’m seventeen. Why are you questioning me? How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t do anything.”
“Okay, then tell me exactly what happened.” He pushed the tape recorder’s On button and leaned back in his chair.
“I…uh…” Tala put her elbows on the scratched metal table and rubbed her forehead. “Don’t you understand how hard this is for me? I’m afraid.” Then she grabbed the arms of her chair, squeezing them until her knuckles whitened. “It hurts too much to remember.”
“I can’t help you unless you tell me the truth. How did you get along with your father?” The detective stared hard at her. He set his jaw, and the scar flinched. “Don’t think you can lie to me. I have a built-in you-know-what meter.”
Tala concentrated on the table edge’s designs—a swastika, a knife, a faint word, maybe Diesel. No hearts. “Fine. I mean…he never beat me if that’s what you’re talking about.”
“What about your mother? There’s no record of your being brought to the emergency room. Did she ever hit you?”
Tala tried to control her breathing, but lost the battle, her chest heaving, and her heart racing. “Yes, but my father would stop her. Sometimes he’d give her more liquor to make her fall asleep.”
“But he never reported her?”
“I-I guess not.” She turned her head away from him and toward the photograph on the desk behind him. His happy family. Maybe they’d only forced themselves to smile for the picture. They might be even more screwed up than her family. Maybe Scarface beat his wife. She could have had bruises she hid with makeup. Maybe his sons were afraid of him. Wished he were dead.
The detective leaned closer to her. “How did that make you feel? Were you angry at him?”
“No, he told me there were lots of things I didn’t understand, and my mother couldn’t help herself. He made it sound as though it were my fault, as though I had some kind of effect on her.”
“What kind of effect?” He tapped his fingers on the table. He may as well have been hammering it.
Cut it out, she wanted to scream. Cut it out. “He said something once about a strain, but I was too afraid to ask him anything else.” Did she just imagine he rolled his eyes?
“How could you put up with it all these years?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t you ever try to run away?”
“My father said if I left, someone would wind up killing me.”
Tala’s eyelids flew open.
The flight attendant stood next to her with the beverage cart. “Something to drink?”
Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed hard. “Black coffee, please.” She looked at her hands. No silver ring.
The attendant handed her the coffee, and she sipped from the Styrofoam cup. Would the house reveal secrets? And did she want to learn them? She remembered Vanessa’s words, although she probably didn’t even have a clue to the real situation. It was time to face her fear and learn the truth.
Maeve meowed, clawing at the carrier’s window.
“Oh, poor thing.” Tala pulled the box on top of her lap and opened it. The cat crawled out and curled up against her arm.
“Okay, Maeve, can we do this together?”
“Meow.” The cat reached up and patted her face.
Tala fished around in her roomy tapestry tote and pulled out the mystery. She read the last page as though it held a fortune-cookie message. Evidently, the mystery had been solved and the bad guy had been caught. And even…a hint of romance.
Too bad she didn’t believe in fortune cookies.
***
Tala stood at the curb in the cold air of Manchester, New Hampshire. Punctuality wasn’t one of Vanessa’s good points, but she could always depend on her. When Vanessa finally drove up at the passenger-pickup area, the cold had pierced her bones.
Vanessa jumped out and hugged her. “I’m so happy to see you. What’s with the circles under your eyes? I mean...they’re still that beautiful amber color, though.”
“I guess I haven’t been sleeping very well. Too many memories…”
“Well, I’ll just have to help you get rid of those memories.” Vanessa stepped back slightly and frowned. “You’ve lost the weight I gained.”
“It’s not like it’s cause and effect.” Tala took a painful step toward the Mercedes.
“Is this all you have with you?” Vanessa picked up the carryon bag and the matching cat carrier. “And look at you with that heavy black boot.”
Tala glanced down at it. “I named it Frankenstein.” She leaned on the heel and picked up the front.
Vanessa laughed. “Lovely pose. Well, you still look glam. Green was always your color. It makes your red highlights glow. And I like that longer length on you.”
“You always could cheer me up. I’m traveling light, because I don’t intend to be here very long.”
“Well, come on. Come on. Let’s get in the car.” Vanessa put the baggage in the back seat and helped Tala sit in the front.
“Thanks for picking me up. I may not have made it to the curb if someone hadn’t brought me in a wheelchair.”
“Well, what’s a high school best friend for?” Vanessa smiled her homecoming queen special and then got behind the wheel.
“Still, thanks.”
“Oh, I have so much stuff to tell you.” Vanessa grabbed her arm. “Don’t worry. Everything’ll be fine.”
Best friend or not, Tala had envied Vanessa’s former slim figure, frequent-vacation tan, and sun-streaked hair, not to mention her great personality. She’d always been a jock magnet.
“Well, I guess I’m a captive audience for the next hour. It’ll take my mind off things.”
Just then, Maeve meowed, and the women laughed.
Tala shrugged. “I guess she’s eager for the news, too.”
Vanessa grabbed the wheel. “Okay, on to Wolfeboro.”
Tala zoned out while Vanessa blabbed. Someone she didn’t even remember had gotten married in the past year, and six months later divorced. A scandal, with the husband marrying the wife’s stepmother. Then all the news about the quadruplets born to the friend who was on fertility treatments, so the rumor went. But Tala perked up when Vanessa mentioned a drunk beaten up in the graveyard, and not just beaten up, but also bitten.
“Bitten?”
“Oh, I heard it was terrible.” Vanessa revved up with rapid speech and hand gestures. “He would have died if dogs hadn’t chased the person away.”
“What? Whose dogs? And how did they know the dogs didn’t bite him?”
“Because he told them. And…the bites didn’t match dog bites. They were human bites. And… the dogs—two German shepherds. No one’s seen them since then.”
Tala raised her eyebrows. “How do you know all this?”
Vanessa gave her a mysterious little smile. “It pays to have a hairdresser as a friend.”
“Okay, so the drunk said the dogs didn’t bite him, but a human did? Isn’t that a little farfetched?” Even though Tala pretended to dismiss the tale, she recognized the eerie similarity to her senior-prom-night episode.
“I’m just telling you what he said.” Vanessa frowned.
“Don’t get all huffy. Any other hot news?” Tala wrung her hands.
“Well, maybe there is one more thing. I’m sure you don’t remember Matt Griffin, but I just found out this morning he broke off his engagement with Megan.”
Tala rolled her eyes. “You know I remember him. How could I forget my date for the senior prom?”
“Isn’t it funny how some of the bad boys become detectives?” Vanessa stared straight ahead.
“Yeah, a riot.”
Chapter Two
“We can have more fun in the graveyard. Let’s dump the others.” Matt pushed Tala’s hair away from her
face and put his arm around her shoulders. “Finish your punch.”
Matt was so handsome in his tuxedo. Maybe someday they’d get... No, she wouldn’t think about it. Thinking too far in advance was bad luck.
The band cranked out the last dance of the prom, “How You Remind Me.”
She could never resist Matt’s grin. “All right.” She drank the last of her punch, a sickeningly sweet mixture tasting like pineapples and ginger ale. “Let’s go.”
While everyone else slow danced, they crept away and barged though the heavy gym doors. They kicked off their shoes and giggled as they half ran and half slid down the hall. Matt’s beater of a red pickup with one white door waited near the school. As they sped away, he reached under the seat and pulled out a bourbon bottle.
“Are you crazy? Do you know how much trouble we’ll get in if we get caught with that?”
“Darlin’, you worry too much.” Matt stared at the road and took a big gulp. “Here.” He held the bottle out to her.
“Uh-uh.”
He glanced at her with a smile. “Everything’s going to be all right. Just relax.”
Tala squirmed. The graveyard was huge, but it loomed next door to her house, where her father would be extra vigilant. “Matt, maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Hey, trust me. I have it all under control. I even brought a blanket.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out the Mexican blanket he’d bought on their senior class trip to Cancun. Matt deposited it on her lap and leered at her with up-and-down eyebrows.
He parked at the north end of the cemetery, where her parents wouldn’t be able to see the pickup. He grabbed the red, white, and green blanket, and they crept inside.
Tala hugged herself. “It must be ten degrees colder in here.”
Matt wrapped the blanket around her. “Yeah, isn’t it great?” He put his arm across her shoulders.
The silence of the graveyard amplified their steps. A rotting smell filled the dark air, invading her body and her mind. She relaxed a little when she spotted their favorite tombstones, which were side by side. Matt’s had “Farewell until we meet again” inscribed under a swan statue. Tala’s, also under a statue of a swan, proclaimed: “We meet again.”
The Wolf's Daughter (The Tala Chronicles 1) Page 1