wisteria witches 06 - wolves of wisteria

by Angela Pepper

  Jesse was the only one who didn't look concerned. He looked right at Carrot and grinned. “You're off the hook as a suspect, Carrot. If I recall correctly, you were with all of us in the office break room at lunch time, nibbling on a bean sprout and hummus sandwich. I can be your witness. You definitely weren't out with your pet wolf Alfie, hunting down another kill.”

  Carrot frowned. “That's not funny. I might have an alibi, but if people think it was Alfie, they'll grab their guns and start shooting wolves.”

  Gavin snorted. “Knowing the people in this town, they'll just shoot each other in the butts.”

  All three men started laughing.

  “Good one,” Xavier said. “It's funny because it's true.”

  Encouraged by Xavier, Jesse and Gavin worked together and did a short improvised show right there in the hallway, impersonating two local hicks going out to shoot a wolf and accidentally shooting each other in the butt.

  “Ya done shot me, Jeremiah,” Gavin said to Jesse, clutching his stomach and fighting laughter.

  Jesse clutched his buttocks. “Ya done shot me, too. And I thought you were Jeremiah. If you're Jeremiah, what's my name?”

  Gavin wheezed. “You're Jebediah, Jebediah.” He moved his hands up to clutch his chest. “Ow! Ya done shot me again, Jebediah!”

  “That's not funny,” Carrot said. “I have twin cousins named Jeremiah and Jebediah. They're nothing like that. They're both vegans.”

  That only made everyone laugh harder. Dawna was no longer in any danger of being sick. She leaned on Zinnia's shoulder and wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. How she did it without stabbing herself with those long nails, Zinnia didn't know. Margaret was doubled over, hands on her knees. Zinnia felt something warm trying to sneak into her heart. Some unwanted emotion trying to blossom. Meanwhile, Xavier had joined the improv scene as a talking wolf who goaded the hunters about their marksmanship.

  Despite the grim news about a wolf attacking a child, the mood had certainly lifted. Perhaps it would be a good night of bowling after all. Perhaps Annette's spirit was watching and smiling.

  Chapter 17

  Shady Lanes Bowling and Ales

  5:45 pm

  Shady Lanes was a twelve-lane classic-style bowling alley that had been owned and run by the same family for three generations. The youngest owner had recently expanded the building to add a microbrewery and pub next door. Rumor had it their most popular beer, Shady Lanes Shady Ale, was the most profitable part of the whole endeavor. The ale sold well nationally, and subsidized the bowling alley, which otherwise might have been shuttered.

  A newcomer to Wisteria might have had a hard time distinguishing which parts of the bowling alley were original, and which had been lovingly “restored” to look even more 1950s than the actual 1950s.

  The place was noisy, thanks to the rolling balls and crashing pins, but not too noisy, because they didn't blare music on the stereo. The lighting was soft and flattering, which made Shady Lanes a popular location for first dates. That Friday night, ten lanes were taken up by the league regulars and the other two lanes were an assortment of people who'd come for dates and been put into ad hoc teams so they could compete for the night's usual prizes.

  The Incredibowls—the team name that unanimously won the office vote—kept one seat empty in honor of Annette. Everyone at Shady Lanes had heard about Annette's death. Some came by to pay their respects while others simply stared while looking sad.

  The Incredibowls made it through their first game before any of the other teams. They were short by two players, sure, but everything moved along faster without their usual tomfoolery. It wasn't that they weren't enjoying the game. It was more that they could feel everyone watching and whispering to each other about what may or may not have happened to their coworker.

  They took a break for dinner. While the others ordered their burgers and fries, Zinnia excused herself to the washroom. Unfortunately, this gave some of the other league members the opportunity they'd been waiting for, and Zinnia was waylaid in the women's room by an endless chain of women who wanted to hug her and tell her that Annette Scholem had been a special woman.

  When Zinnia finally made her escape from the washroom, she paused behind a room divider screen to check her appearance in a compact mirror. Just as she'd suspected, her eyes were looking red at the corners. All the better to encourage more hugs from strangers.

  A female voice pierced her thoughts. “Hey, wait up, Jesse.”

  Jesse Berman—Zinnia would know his voice anywhere—replied, “What's up, Carrot Top?”

  Carrot giggled. “A carrot top is green, silly.”

  He laughed unselfconsciously. “I don't write the jokes, sweetheart, I just deliver them.” The two of them stopped on the other side of the room divider screen, mere feet away from Zinnia. She could see Jesse's shoes under the bottom of the screen. She took a step back so he didn't see hers. She could have kept walking and returned to the table with the others, but didn't. Could you blame her? Who wouldn't be tempted to listen in on a private conversation between their boyfriend and his ex-fling?

  Carrot said to Jesse, “Sorry if this comes out all weird and everything, but I have to ask you a question.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Last week at bowling, I saw you and Annette talking.”

  “So?”

  “Well, you looked upset about something she was saying.”

  “Are you sure it was me?”

  “Jesse, I know what you look like.”

  “Then are you sure I was upset with Annette? A lot of my balls were ending up in the gutter that night. Plus, I had a few bad splits I couldn't salvage.”

  “I heard you fighting, okay?” Carrot sounded upset that he wasn't taking her more seriously. “You told her to mind her own business.”

  “Ohhhh,” he said. There was a snap—Jesse snapping his fingers. “Now I remember. She was asking me about my childhood. Like my mother's maiden name, and other things. For a few minutes, I thought she was trying to figure out my banking password or something like that.”

  “Why do you think she was asking about your mom?”

  Jesse chuckled. “I think it's pretty clear now, in hindsight. She was looking for a few more details to flesh out her book.”

  “Gosh, do you think that was it?”

  “Sure, Carrot. Not everything is a big, spooky conspiracy. Most of the time, the simplest explanation is the right one.”

  “I guess you're right,” she said. “So why were you mad at her for asking about your childhood?”

  He paused before answering. “I don't like talking about that time in my life.”

  “It must have been so sad and lonely, being an only child. I can't imagine growing up without any siblings. Except maybe Ishmael, because he's kind of a show-off.”

  Jesse agreed, “Ishmael Greyson is not my favorite guy.”

  “You know my brother?”

  “Uh... just by reputation.”

  “You mean from what I've told you about him?”

  “Exactly.”

  Carrot sighed. “Still. You must have been a lonely little kid.”

  “Not lonely. My father was able to give me a lot of attention.”

  “But wasn't your dad kind of... you know?”

  “Tough?” Jesse took a big breath. “He wasn't easy, that's for sure. But he made me into the man I am today. He made me strong.”

  There was a pause. Neither of them moved.

  Carrot asked, “How are you doing? Are you seeing anyone?”

  He chuckled and replied, “I thought you were dating that Steve guy.”

  “I am,” she said quickly. “I just worry about you being lonely there in your dad's house.”

  “Don't you worry about me,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I have been seeing someone. She's a strong, sexy lady who knows what she wants and goes after it.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really. I've never known anyone like her. We're keeping
it quiet, because, well, it's complicated. But hopefully I can bring her by the office soon.”

  “Complicated? How? Is she married?”

  “Come on,” he said in a joking tone. “I'm not a home wrecker. Trust me, she's single and she's... sensational. Far better than a guy like me deserves.”

  “Sounds like a special girl.”

  “Oh, she's no girl. She's all woman. In a good way.”

  “Good for you,” Carrot said. Her shoes moved out of Zinnia's view as she backed away. “I guess I should let you go to the men's washroom.”

  “Either that or stand watch while I make use of this potted palm tree.”

  “I don't get it.”

  “Probably for the best,” he said, chuckling. “See you back on the lane.”

  Zinnia picked up her cue to hide the fact she'd been snooping. She returned to the women's washroom, where she was immediately grabbed and hugged by all eight members of the Gutter Dusters. When Carrot entered the washroom, she shot Zinnia a bug-eyed look of apprehension as she snuck into one of the bathroom's stalls unscathed.

  Most of the night's prizes would be going to the Traveling Beer Bellies, though the Wizards of Wisteria weren't far behind. The Wisteria Permit Department's Incredibowls were headed for last place, even behind the notoriously lousy Pin Pushers. It was a good thing the Incredibowls' score wouldn't count toward their average, because tonight's games were sure to be low scoring.

  “We need more carbs,” Gavin said. “Let's get that energy up, Incredibowls!”

  “No more carbs for me,” Dawna said. “Unless they're liquid.” She smiled and tipped back her beer.

  Their lane went quiet—as quiet as a lane can be in a busy bowling alley. Zinnia knew why everyone was subdued. If Annette had been there, she would have volunteered to buy the group pretzels right about now. Was her spirit there, ghosting around them at that very minute? Offering to buy pretzels and not being heard or seen by anyone? Ghosts had difficulties with time and space. It had to be so confusing, being somewhere and also not being there.

  Zinnia felt a chill trying to catch her. To get away, she jumped to her feet with so much energy, she slid forward an inch on her soft- soled rental shoes.

  “Pretzels,” Zinnia announced. “Pretzels are on me!”

  Everyone murmured appreciation and agreed to put the game on hold for a break.

  Zinnia walked over to the snack counter and ordered a large, group-sized bag of pretzels.

  Someone joined her at the counter, standing much closer than a stranger would.

  “Nice bowling form,” he said. It was Jesse.

  “Not my best game tonight, I'm afraid.”

  “But you look so good bending over,” he said. “Handling those big balls.”

  She shot him a look, giving him the offended expression he seemed to crave whenever he'd had a few drinks.

  He chuckled, pleased with himself. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the top of her shoulder.

  She kept her gaze straight ahead and took two steps to the side, away from him.

  “Hey, don't pull away,” Jesse said, his voice low and thick. “You're always trying to get away from me.”

  “No, I'm not.”

  “Yes, you are. You're a pull-away-er-er.” He chuckled at his mangled joke. “I get it when we're at work, but lighten up. We're not at the office now.” He made an exaggerated pouting face, lips pushed out childishly. “Sometimes I think you don't even like me.”

  “I like you.”

  He took two steps closer to close the distance and grabbed her hand. “Prove it. Come with me into the arcade. I peeked in and it's deserted. We can make out and then play Donkey Kong. Or forget all about Donkey Kong. I don't have any quarters, if you know what I mean.” Shady Lanes had a collection of vintage arcade games, and she did know exactly what he meant. Jesse's eyes fixed on hers as his pupils dilated. “Like that first time you let me kiss you.”

  “Tempting,” she said, and it was. Just like it had been the first time, when their subtle office flirtations had led to physical contact.

  He leaned into her, merging his body heat with hers. “I'll make it worth your time.” He licked his lips. “Again.”

  “But we're not done our games.” She pulled her hand from his. “People will know something's up if both of us disappear.”

  His upper body twitched. “So what if they do? Don't you think it's about time we became official? What are we even waiting for?”

  Official? Sure, Zinnia thought. They could officially be broken up. That would save a lot of hassle.

  “Come over to my house tonight,” he pleaded. “Sleep in my bed.” He nodded his head forward and looked her in the eyes. “Stay with me the whole night. Don't get up and leave. I want you to be there when I wake up.”

  But Zinnia didn't want to spend the whole night. Not tonight. Not ever. Jesse's inherited home wasn't in the worst condition, considering he was a bachelor, but it wasn't welcoming to someone with her sensitivity. She could never shake the feeling that his house disapproved of her. That it actually hated her. How could a house hate a person? Was it prejudiced against witches?

  She couldn't tell Jesse his house had bad juju, so she focused on something mundane. “You want me to stay over so you can laugh at me tomorrow morning when I try to make breakfast out of thin air plus the old condiments in your fridge.”

  “I don't care about breakfast.” He turned away from her and waved to get the attention of the snack bar attendant. “Toss me five bags of those pretzels, would you?” The attendant did. Jesse paid and tipped, then turned to Zinnia, grinning like someone who'd just won a major debate. He waved his hand over the five large bags like a magician performing a reveal. “I've got plenty of breakfast right here.”

  “But it's already so late,” she said, feigning a yawn.

  “It's barely eight o'clock.”

  “But it will be later by the time we all get out of here. You know how it goes with the last game of the night.”

  He ripped open one of the bags of pretzels and frowned at the contents. “Fine,” he said, pouting. “I'll eat all these amazing pretzels by myself.”

  “I'm still coming over tomorrow for that dinner you promised.” She pushed some warmth into her voice. “I'll make it up to you then.”

  He looked up, his blue eyes bright and gleaming. “Okay.”

  “Forgive me?”

  “Yes, but only if you kiss me.” He flashed his eyes. “Right now. Do it.” He looked over her shoulder and then back at her. “Nobody's looking, I swear.”

  Begrudgingly, Zinnia kissed him. In public. For anyone to see.

  He gave her another victorious grin. He had won. But what was the prize?

  As Zinnia returned to the Incredibowls' lane with the first bag of pretzels, she noticed Carrot was staring at her. The orange-haired young woman's eyes were droopy at the edges. Her mouth wouldn't stay closed. She looked like a goldfish who'd been spilled from its bowl.

  Zinnia didn't need witch powers to know that Carrot had seen the kiss. She wondered, had that been Jesse's intention? He didn't strike Zinnia as the type to be cruel, to flaunt his new romance in front of a former flame, but then again she didn't know the man that well, did she? She probably should have taken the time to acquaint herself with him outside of the bed. What kind of woman had she become? Not the good kind. Not the kind her family had raised her to be. She was forty-eight, carrying on with a coworker in the careless manner of someone half her age. And it evidently wasn't sitting well with Jesse, either. He wanted more.

  She should have been more of a traditional woman toward him, but thanks to the stone surrounding her heart, she couldn't. She had no interest in growing closer to any man, softening herself so that she could merge into his life and add her mass and energy and passion to all that he possessed. Not again.

  The Incredibowls finally finished their final game. The last one always took three times as long as the first, and despite being short a couple o
f players that Friday night, the gang was as dawdling as ever.

  “Time to settle up,” Gavin said between yawns. He leaned over Dawna's shoulder to look at the piece of scrap paper she was scribbling on. “Whatcha doing?”

  Dawna picked up the paper and showed it to the group. She'd been rearranging the letters for one of the characters' names in Annette's book: Villobek.

  “Seriously, you guys don't get it,” Dawna said, shaking her head. “I thought once you all read the book, you'd see it like I did.”

  Her coworkers exchanged confused looks.

  “The guy who killed Annette was Villobek.” As soon as she uttered the villain's name, the bowling alley grew eerily quiet, as though everyone was now listening.

  “You've had too much to drink,” Gavin said. “I'll drive you home.” He pulled Dawna's jacket from the back of her chair and started putting it on her.

  She pushed him away. “Don't you get it?” Her voice was louder, verging on yelling. Now that the balls had stopped rolling and the pins had stopped crashing for the night, Dawna's voice was loud and clear over the soft music. “We need to find Villobek!”

  At the second mention of the name, Zinnia felt a distinctive chill run up her spine. She looked across the table to see Margaret rubbing her arms. The two exchanged a knowing look. The bowling alley was quite warm. A chill like that only happened when a ghost was present, or when the name of something truly evil had been invoked.

  Jesse stifled a yawn and patted Dawna on the shoulder. “Time to call it a night. Let Gavin drive you home.”

  Dawna struck her fists on the table. “No. I'm not leaving until all of you wake up and see what's right in front of your eyes.”

  Carrot continued to look like a goldfish out of water.

  Gavin looked annoyed, holding Dawna's jacket.

  Margaret leaned over, looking very interested in Dawna's paper with the scribbled letters.

  Jesse finished his stifled yawn. “And what's that we're supposed to see, Ms. Jones?”

  “Let me field this one,” Gavin said to Jesse. He turned to the others and explained to them as a group, “Villobek is the bad guy in the book. He's kinda like Voldemort from Harry Potter, which is where I think Annette got the inspiration.”