Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella

by Cecilia Dominic

  “You don’t have to say any more,” she said.

  But I had to finish, or I would do so in my head. Over and over. So I squeezed the words through the tightness in my chest. “I panicked. I shut the door and tried to go out the back way, but the door wouldn’t open. It was getting hotter and hotter, and I started coughing from the smoke. Finally I took the damn stool and threw it through a window, I don’t know how.”

  “You’re a tough little thing.” Lonna rested her chin on her hands. “Even if you don’t look it.”

  Caught in the story, I had to keep going. “So I jumped through and got scraped up a little.” I rolled up the sleeve of my T-shirt and showed her my left shoulder, which had a long, thin, barely healed cut. “That one was the deepest. Fifteen stitches.”

  She traced it with a cool finger. “Wow,” she murmured. “So you got out?”

  “I thought that was it. I started heading to my car to shut off the damn alarm and get to a hospital, but then I heard something behind me.”

  The waiter approached, and I jumped. “Oui, mademoiselles?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Lonna didn’t even look at him, just gave the order for our appetizer and wine. “Brie en croute, s’il vous plait, et deux Chardonnay.”

  “D’accord.”

  “Go on,” she told me.

  We were getting into the realm of nightmares. “Honestly, I’m not sure whether to believe it myself.” I swallowed, my mouth too dry. “I would rather not say here.”

  “Oh? It’s not fair to keep me hanging, Joanie.”

  “I’ll tell you later, at your place, I promise.”

  The waiter brought our wine in tulip-shaped glasses—hers blue, mine red— with green stems.

  “So anyway,” I said after taking a sip. “Hmm, an oaky California. You can tell every time. You’d think they’d have French here.”

  “So?” she prompted.

  “So you’d think a French restaurant would have some Louis Jadot or something.”

  Her arched eyebrow told me she wasn’t distracted by my wine snobbery.

  “Fine,” I sighed. “No lab equals no work. No work equals no job. And that’s it.”

  “How can that be it? You were top in your field.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe someone found out about me and Robert. Or maybe they blamed me for the fire, but I suspect it’s more about money. They just got bought, and mergers mean layoffs, especially of highly paid staff with expensive research programs.” I shrugged. “But enough about that. What’s going on with your work?”

  Lonna looked away and spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “There’s been this string of kids disappearing in this little community in the Ozarks north of Mountain View. I’ve got to go up there tomorrow and talk with the local social worker. As hard as I’ve tried to get out of the private-eye business, you’d think they’d leave me alone.”

  “Oh, gads, that’s rough.” Hearing about stuff like that made my stomach twist. It reminded me too much of Andrew.

  “Sorry, I know you don’t like to hear about the kids.”

  “I just don’t know how you do what you do, that’s all. What’s this little place called?”

  “Crystal Pines.”

  I set my glass down too hard, and the wine spilled.

  “What’s with you?” Lonna arched an eyebrow.

  “Wolfsbane Manor, my grandfather’s estate, is up there. Crystal Pines—it used to be called Piney Mountain—is at the base of the hill, the manor at the top.”

  “That’s odd.” She swirled the wine around in her glass. “From the files I’ve gotten from the case worker who lives up near there, the locals—y’know, the ones who were there first before the weekenders moved in—are associating the ‘old gentleman’s house’ with the kids going missing.”

  A shiver climbed up my spine. “How?”

  “That’s the weird part. No human footprints or anything. The kids just…vanish. When they call the forensics guys out, it’s usually too late to get anything because they always disappear outside.”

  “No ‘human’ footprints? What about animals?”

  “There aren’t any big enough to take a child, so I don’t think they’re looking.”

  “Wolves? Coyotes? Bears? My parents always warned me to watch out for them.”

  “The only wolves in Arkansas are red wolves, which are too small to snatch preadolescents. And if it was something like that, they would at least find…” She cocked her head trying to find a nice way to put it. “Remains.”

  “Point taken. It must be a boring summer for them. No hiking, fishing, swimming…”

  “It is for the locals’ kids. They’re the only ones being abducted. If your dad drives a Beamer, Mercedes, Lexus or Volvo…”

  “You’re safe?” I found that hard to believe. “So it can’t be wild animals then. They’re not that discriminating. What do you have to do tomorrow?”

  “The case worker, a guy named Matt, wanted me to come and check things out for myself. He’s worried the board isn’t going to believe him and wanted an outside opinion.”

  “Is he single?” Lonna, like myself, had the most rotten luck in love.

  “No such luck. Happily married for thirty-four years.”

  “Too bad.”

  The waiter arrived again, so we ordered our main courses, Coq au Vin for me and Moules et Frites for her. I didn’t realize until the waiter set the food down and the aroma of red wine, spices, and hot, crusty French bread rose to my nostrils how hungry I was. The food also gave me the opportunity to ignore Lonna’s question, so she had to repeat it.

  “Earth to Joanie,” she called and poked me in the arm with a mussel shell. “What happened with Robert?”

  “You would ask.”

  “Of course. Things seemed to be going so well.”

  “Right. As well as they could be with a married man.”

  “I thought he was separated?”

  “He was.”

  “Is he still?”

  “No.” I tore off a little piece of bread and stirred it in the thick maroon sauce. “I think when Cabal got bought, he decided he’d better make nice with the wife in case he lost his job and needed her to support him.”

  “How did he tell you?”

  “Gads, you’re merciless tonight, woman.”

  She winked. “That’s what my boyfriends like to tell me.”

  “Well, he called me into his office.” Images flashed into my mind of the long walk down the sterile white hallways. “My shoulder was still in a sling so I wouldn’t move it and open the wound. That arm was hidden under my spare lab coat. He didn’t see it at first. When he did, he didn’t react like he normally would have. You know, by jumping up and coming over to take care of me. A look crossed his face… How to describe it? Pain? Regret for having to kick me while I was down? I don’t know.”

  “This was after you’d heard your job was no longer there?”

  “You can say fired.” I took a sip of my wine. “It’s the reality of it. I was packing up my office one-handed when he called.”

  “Did you know what was coming?”

  “I could hear it in his voice. He asked me to sit down, and he got up and closed the door. I noticed he was limping a little.”

  “Serves him right.”

  “No kidding. So then he told me since we didn’t have any excuse to see each other on a daily basis, he didn’t know if he could deal with that level of deception.” I felt the all-too-familiar pressure of tears and my vision blurred. “He said he respected me too much to start using cheap motels and made-up business trips.”

  Lonna rolled her eyes. “Yet he didn’t mind the chair in his office.”

  I smiled a little, and a tear rolled down my cheek into the corner of my mouth. Its warm track turned cold after a second. “So no more boyfriend. That’s what I get for seeing a married – separated – man.” I again mentally kicked myself for not pushing him for more information about his relationship
with his wife, for being that stupid young woman who falls for an older man with a good story and doesn’t look too far into it for the lies.

  “You just had, what is it called? Where the mentee falls for the mentor.”

  “Maybe.”

  We both took a sip of our wine, and I wiped my eyes with the napkin.

  “Garcon.” Lonna signaled our waiter. “This woman needs chocolate mousse.”

  I looked down at my half-eaten Coq au Vin. “But what about this?”

  “Take it with you.” Lonna swirled the last sip of wine in her glass. “You can put it in the fridge and have it for lunch.”

  That’s one of the things I liked about Lonna. She made up any excuse for dessert. It’s amazing she kept her model-like figure.

  The chocolate mousse came, and we talked about other things over coffee and dessert. Before we knew it, it was nine o’clock, and Lonna raced back to her apartment with me in tow so we could get up early to drive to Crystal Pines in time for her ten o’clock meeting with Matt.

  It bothered me a little I hadn’t told her the rest of my story. Later, it bothered me a lot. I don’t know if it might have saved her—and our friendship—but maybe she would have been more careful. Or maybe I would have.

  2

  It was still dark when Lonna woke me with a shake.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  “Gads!” I rolled over and turned on the light. We both squinted.

  “You were dreaming.”

  I ignored the invitation to tell her what. It was too frightening. The image of the large black wolf, its eyes blazing red in the reflection of the fire, snarled and cornered me behind some shrubbery. I woke up every morning just one step ahead. In my dreams, it never turned back like it had that night.

  “What time is it?”

  “Five thirty. We need to be out of here by six thirty, seven at the latest. It’s a good three-hour drive up there.”

  “Have mercy, woman, and make me some coffee.”

  “Coming right up.” Lonna laughed and left the spare room.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I mumbled to myself. I walked into the bathroom and turned to see if I had dark circles under my eyes. I don’t know why I bothered. They had become a constant accessory since the dreams started.

  “You look gorgeous,” Lonna said from the door, and I jumped. She held two cups of steaming coffee.

  “God bless you, woman. And no, I don’t. You’re the only one I know who wakes up as beautiful as she was when she went to sleep.”

  She cocked her head at my reflection, which made me feel more self-conscious. “You’ve lost weight, though. And you didn’t have any to spare. Your collar bones are sticking out.”

  I pulled down the collar of my nightshirt. “If I have, I’m surprised. I’ve been a slug since I got fired.”

  “You look like you did when you started school. Take a shower, raccoon-eyes. It’ll wake you up.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her and inhaled the aroma of the coffee. Strong, but light and sweet. Perfect. Just how I liked my coffee…and my men.

  At seven, we were on the road, I-40 headed west. I followed her green Jeep Cherokee in my Geo. Luckily we were going against most of the traffic, the commuters from Conway, and other communities west of Little Rock. I popped U2’s All that You Can’t Leave Behind into the CD player. Once we left the interstate and headed north, it seemed like no time before we traversed narrow mountain roads with hairpin turns.

  Finally we pulled up to a gate, and I looked around. Crystal Pines, the planned community that had eaten the little town of Piney Mountain, was nestled at the base of a hill and surrounded by tall brick walls, or at least that’s how it appeared. I later found the walls only extended for about a half mile on each side of the gate to allow for expansion. Lonna pulled up to the gatehouse and spoke with the guard, and the gate swung inward to let us through. I followed her down a tree-lined road to the center of the cute little town, which looked familiar, but not exactly how I remembered it. She parked in front of the diner.

  “This is weird. Everything looks smaller.” I got out, stretched, and took a deep breath. Summer in Memphis had been oppressive, and I was grateful I wouldn’t have to go back to the sludge that passed for August air. Maybe living up here in lower humidity wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “The guard was more excited about you being here than me,” Lonna said. “Didn’t you see how he craned his neck to see the ‘old gentleman’s heiress’?”

  Only a few people, a waitress, cook and a couple of customers, were in the diner. At Lonna’s words, all activity stopped, and they turned to look at me.

  “Shhh,” I told her, but it was too late. Luckily the scrutiny didn’t last long.

  “Lonna, over here.” A tall gentleman waved us over to a booth. I guessed this was the social worker Lonna told me about. As she’d said, he was well into middle age with friendly eyes in a rugged face.

  “Matt, it’s great to see you.” She shook his hand. “This is my friend Joanie Fisher. Doctor Joanie Fisher, actually.”

  “Oh, a doctor?”

  We slid into the booth across from him.

  “PhD.” I looked at Lonna, who was eating up the attention. She even winked at the man in the next booth over, a tall blond with a narrow chiseled face whose briefcase contents were spread out in front of him. He curled one side of his mouth in a smile and turned his eyes back to his work. A shiver went down my spine.

  “A PhD? In what?” He held up his coffee cup for a refill. The waitress, who could have walked straight off some television show from the 50s, gave him the ”one moment” sign with her index finger.

  “Behavioral epidemiology.”

  “That’s impressive. You must be in research, then?”

  “I was.”

  “I guess you won’t have to worry much about working now.” There was no envy in his tone, only polite interest. Nothing to spark the resentment that rose in my stomach. It’s not like I’d asked to inherit my grandfather’s fortune.

  “Guess not.”

  “Mind if we have something to eat, Matt?” Lonna broke in. I hadn’t realized it, but I was hungry. The cup of coffee and peach had been a long time ago.

  “Please.” He gestured to the menu. “If I can get Louise over for some coffee, she’ll take your order.”

  “Now Math-yew,” the woman drawled as she walked over to the table, her white shoes squeaking on the floor. “You know I can’t move that fast with this Arthur-itis.”

  She refilled Matt’s coffee and plunked down a couple more cups, and Lonna and I ordered bacon and eggs with toast. This place seemed a world away from Bistro and chocolate mousse.

  Matt leaned in and lowered his voice as Louise shuffled away. “Her grandson is one of the children who’s missing.”

  “Oh,” breathed Lonna. “Poor woman.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I gazed out the window. The original town of Piney Mountain looked much the same as it had twenty years before when we’d drive through to visit my grandfather. The main differences were some of the shabby little buildings had been renovated, and expensive cars seemed to have replaced the pickup trucks. Someone had even straightened the leaning statue of General Lee in the middle of the square. There were also signs at the main intersection pointing to the pool, clubhouse and driving range.

  “Your thoughts, Joanie?”

  “I don’t understand how somebody can just swallow a whole little town. Wasn’t there a protest?”

  “Lee Franz, the mayor, convinced everyone it would be for the town’s best,” Matt replied. “He said it would help keep the children in the area if there was more opportunity for them.”

  Louise appeared with more creamers. “He didn’t count on them not being here for the opportunities.” She sighed, and her exhalation expressed more than a tirade could.

  I turned away to avoid the uncomfortable feeling that somehow this was my fault even though I had no idea what was going on.


  A movement outside the window caught my attention, and I spotted a familiar face. “Who’s that?” It was the distraught, handsome Leonard Bowman from Lawrence Galbraith’s office, walking out of the City Hall building across the square. Something about how he moved struck me as odd and familiar beyond our one encounter. The harder I tried to figure out why, the more the answer eluded me. One thing I knew with certainty – I needed more details about him beyond his name. I wanted to know why he was up here. Had he followed me?

  “Leonard Bowman,” Matthew told me.

  “Very nice-looking.” Lonna followed him with her eyes.

  “He and his brother Peter, the blond man you winked at, Lonna, are like night and day in more than just coloring.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Peter Bowman is a lawyer and the one in charge of the legal aspects of the community planning. He lives in one of the cul-de-sacs with his wife and their son.”

  “And Leonard?”

  “He moved in with them about a year ago, right after the rest of the houses on their street were completed. He was a medical resident at the university and VA hospitals in Little Rock, but then he had some health problems and had to take a break.”

  “He’s a doctor?” He didn’t look like any I’d worked with.

  Lonna seemed to read my mind. “Research doctors are different, Joanie.”

  “I guess.”

  Leonard disappeared into another building—some sort of shop, and the others seemed to forget about him. I watched to see if he would emerge, but the conversation pulled my attention. Still, I glanced back in that direction occasionally.

  “So, why, exactly, did you want me to come up here, Matt?” Lonna asked.

  Matt’s answer was forestalled by Louise’s arrival with our breakfasts. Bacon, cooked crisp but not too stiff, just the way I liked it, lay over a bed of fluffy yellow scrambled eggs beside two pieces of whole wheat toast. My stomach growled in appreciation.