Death of a Wandering Wolf

by Julia Buckley

  “Yeah,” he was saying. “I can be there by ten.”

  My spirits drooped a little. He hung up and walked swiftly to me. “Good morning,” he said, pulling me into a hug, but being careful not to touch my bandage.

  “It’s a very good morning. Except that you have to go.”

  “I do, in a while. But I’ve got security for you all day. You won’t be alone, and I’ll be back late this afternoon. I want to see Kodaly’s son at that pumpkin patch, and I’ll need you there to tell me if you pick up any vibes.”

  “All right.”

  “I have to call Greg real quick, and then we can have breakfast together.”

  “I’ll take a shower, then.”

  He kissed my hair and went to dial his phone. I would have been offended by his divided attention except for two things: first, I knew he had a job to do, and it was difficult. Second, I could feel his immense relief every time he looked at me. He had wanted me to make things permanent, and now that we had a rock to build things on, he was happy.

  I took a swift but fragrant shower, leaving my left shoulder out of the spray and softly singing “The Hokey Pokey.” Then I donned a pair of jeans and a bright orange sweater and padded out into the kitchen. Erik was gone.

  “Huh,” I said.

  There was a light tapping at the door. Perhaps he had brought something in from the car? I jogged across the room and flung it open, saying, “You disappeared on me,” only to find it wasn’t Erik Wolf who stood there but two other members of that family: Runa and Thyra.

  “Uh—hi,” I said. “What—how did you know where I live?”

  “Nice welcome,” said Runa with a smirk, brushing past me. She smelled like exotic perfume. They both wore casual clothing, but it looked expensive. Runa sported black leggings and a long blue sweater with a gold silhouette of the Eiffel Tower embroidered on its front; Thyra’s attire featured a caramel-colored turtleneck and a long white vest, with a wide gold belt around them both. Runa’s hair was swept up in an elegant ponytail, but Thyra’s hung down almost to her waist. I realized that I could tell them apart, but I didn’t know why.

  Runa was poking at my shoulder. “You have a bandage, huh? Where you were shot?”

  My mouth hung open. “How do you know about that?”

  “We’re psychic,” Thyra said, grinning.

  My temper kicked in a little. Katie would call it my “Zsa Zsa spirit.”

  “Seriously, though, what are you guys doing here?”

  Runa laughed. “Calm down, passionate woman. We were summoned.”

  “What? By whom?”

  Erik appeared behind them holding a dish of cinnamon rolls. I recognized the pan as one of Paige’s; clearly, she had called him to the first floor to claim the sweets for our breakfast. Now he looked at me with an apology. “By me. These two are your morning security detail.”

  “What?” Now I was the one laughing. “Erik, I think I could just have Domo or someone, if you’re looking for, like, civilian guards. I’m sure your sisters are super busy at the store . . .”

  Thyra flipped her hair behind her shoulder and sat down on one of my kitchen chairs. “We’re our own bosses. And our bosses gave us Sunday morning off. Fun how that works, right?”

  I was sending Erik urgent glances that he managed to ignore. He said, “Hana, I couldn’t get a police guard, but these two are the next best thing.”

  I stared at his glamorous sisters. Runa was contemplating her long blue-painted fingernails. Was I missing something?

  Erik saw my face and smiled. “Listen. Runa and Thyra are both black belts. They are also licensed to carry concealed weapons, and they know how to use them.”

  “What?”

  Runa put her hands on her hips and faced her sister. “Get up and attack me,” she said. Thyra, graceful as a cat, slid out of the chair and advanced on Runa in three strides. Then they were sparring: hand against hand, in gestures almost too swift to see. At one point, Thyra squatted low, as if to take out Runa at the knees, and Runa flew over her.

  Flew across my kitchen, her legs extended, like a cartoon action figure.

  “I get the picture,” I said breathlessly. “Your whole family is—fit and ready to defend.”

  “Sure thing,” said Thyra, springing up from her squatting position as though she were made of rubber. “Can I have one of those rolls?”

  Erik set them on the table. “The twins are going to go with you to the tea house and hang around there until I can pick you up. Okay?”

  Runa had been prowling around the room; she peered out my front window, then returned and found my dress hanging over a chair. “Oh, my,” she said, picking it up.

  “Hey, I’m really sorry about that. There’s a tear in the skirt, too. If it was on loan, I can pay you for it—”

  Runa shook her head. “It was a gift.” She held it up. “Thyra, we can probably salvage the skirt, give it a different bodice, donate it to the high school, maybe.” She shrugged, then looked closer. “A lot of blood for a graze, surely?”

  Erik said, “It hit her at a weird angle. Took a chunk of tissue and cut into a blood vessel.” He walked over to her and looked at the dress. They said some things about blood spatter in low voices, and I gasped.

  “Oh my God, you guys are so weird,” I whispered.

  Erik grinned at me. “Too late now. You’re committed.”

  He strode over and pulled me into another hug. “Come and have some breakfast with me. I’ll make my sisters tone down their eccentric tendencies.”

  Thyra sniffed. “Eccentric got us where we are today. It got us Ulveflokk.” She had torn off a cinnamon roll, and now she took a bite. “Mmm. Delicious.”

  I sat down at the table. Erik brought the pot of coffee and poured me a cup. I took a bracing sip. “I wanted to thank you for the dress,” I said. “Before the shooting, it looked perfect. I can show you.” I grabbed my phone from the sideboard and pulled up the pictures Paige had sent me. I handed it to Thyra, who scrolled through. “Mmm. Just right. We should have come to do your hair, but this is fine.”

  “She was beautiful,” Erik said, pouring coffee into his own cup.

  Thyra switched her focus to him. “And your tie was good—we wondered about the shading, but this works. Brown is a good color on you,” his sister said. She handed the phone to Runa, who scrolled through, as well.

  “Mmm,” she said, looking at me. “Yes. I would try this shade again sometime, but maybe next time something crimson. Often looks surprisingly good with hair that color.”

  “Anyway,” I said, “I really appreciate it. I thought you said you only made woolen things.”

  Runa shook her head. “We’re expanding. We have a new prom and wedding line. It’s called Ulveflokk Evening. The sales have been crazy good.”

  Erik took a sip of coffee and studied my face. I must have looked bereft, because he said, “Can you two do a perimeter check? I want to be sure everything’s okay before Hana leaves this building.”

  Thyra smirked, wiping her fingers on a napkin. “Yes, we’ll leave so you can make out with your little sweetheart. We should tell Andy what’s happening, anyway.”

  “Who’s Andy?” I asked.

  Thyra pointed at Runa. “Her little puppy. He follows her everywhere, so we decided to make him chauffeur today.”

  Erik translated. “He’s her boyfriend. For a year now, isn’t it, Runa?”

  I stared. “Why is he in the car?”

  Runa dismissed this with a snap of her fingers. “He’s fine. He listens to the radio; it calms him.”

  She may as well have been talking about a golden retriever.

  Thyra became businesslike. “We’ll be back in ten. Runa, grab a roll. They’re really good.”

  Runa did so, lunging forward with her lithe body and snatching one out of Paige’s pan. They left
on a cloud of spicy perfume, their blonde hair flying.

  Their absence created a vacuum; Erik seemed to be waiting for me to blast him with complaints. I took a sip of my coffee, then put my cup down. “So, that was something that never came up in our ‘getting to know you’ sessions.”

  “I’m sorry. Now that you’ve met my sisters, would you be able to prepare other people for them?”

  “No.”

  “I figured sooner or later you’d just have to experience them. And since you already met them, I thought it was okay to hire them for security detail. They’re good. They both went to the police academy, way back when. Ultimately, they decided that they loved fashion more, but they’re cops at heart. And they have really fast reaction times. I used to spar with them, and I lost as often as they did.”

  I believed that, and I also realized, to my own amazement, that I was going to feel safe with them. They projected competence, whether about clothing or martial arts. I actually sort of wanted to see someone threaten me to see what my tall Norwegian bodyguards would do.

  I sighed. “I wanted us to have a quiet breakfast where we just gazed at each other until we went back to bed.”

  “Me, too.” His eyes were regretful. “But I’ll be back.”

  “You can help me feed the trick-or-treaters.”

  “I might have to work until late.”

  “I’ll wait up.”

  He looked down at his plate. “I think I’ll always love cinnamon rolls, Hana.”

  “Me, too.” My smile was back in place.

  He looked at his watch and stood up. “I want to see your bandage.” He came close to me and moved my sweater carefully, tenderly, poking the flesh around my wound. “It looks good. No redness, no sign of infection.”

  “Great.”

  “In a minute I’ll change the gauze, start you out fresh.”

  “Okay.”

  I tilted my head upward, and he kissed me, a kiss so deep I disappeared for a moment inside pure sensation. Then, slowly, I came back to my kitchen.

  * * *

  The twins returned minutes later; Erik left with apologies and another stolen kiss, and I changed into my tea house uniform: black skirt, white blouse, apron with Hungarian embroidery.

  I expected comments from my visitors, and I wasn’t disappointed. They called me “cute” and “tiny dancer” and “Erik’s Hungarian doll” and a bunch of other things that I managed to ignore while I tied back my hair.

  Finally, they grew tired of teasing me. I sat on the couch to slip on my shoes, and they sat across from me. Thyra said, “So, who’s having tea at your tea house today?”

  “I think it’s a family reunion. They’re having a lunchtime tea and then going off to some show downtown.”

  “How cute,” Runa said. “I want to watch. And I want to meet this grandma of yours. Will she read my leaves?”

  “We’ll be busy,” I said. “This is my job.”

  Thyra nodded. Professionalism, she understood. “We won’t get in your way. We can help, if you want. Or we can be invisible.”

  “Invisible would be good,” I murmured, looking at my shoes.

  This had them laughing again. “Oh, you are a delight,” Runa said.

  * * *

  In the parking lot I met Andy. He stepped out of the driver’s seat of a Cadillac to shake my hand; he was a quietly handsome man somewhere in his mid-thirties; he wore a surprisingly dowdy corduroy jacket with his jeans, but the queens of fashion made no comment at all. “Andrew Bell,” he said with a charming smile.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Hana Keller. I’m so sorry to disrupt your day this way.”

  He shook his head. “Life with Runa is always chaos. This is actually rather peaceful, sitting here in your lot and watching those grasses blow in the wind. And I saw a little pirate walk by. Super tiny but very spirited.”

  “Yes, that’s Iris. If she were a real pirate, she would rule the seas.”

  He laughed. Runa slid behind him and whispered something in his ear. His smile stayed in place, but his skin reddened with something that looked like desire. “Let’s get going, then.” Thyra got in the backseat, and Runa instructed me to get in beside her, whereupon Runa climbed in on my other side.

  “Why are we all in back? Don’t you want to sit with Andy?” I asked.

  Runa said, “We’re flanking you. We are protecting our brother’s little chick, the way the eagle does. By covering you.”

  I sighed. When we sat side by side like this I realized how tall they were and how short I was. I leaned back on the seat and said, “Okay, great.”

  Andy caught my gaze in the rearview mirror. He smiled at me, and I realized that his eyes were a beautiful shade of brown. They crinkled at me now in solidarity. What must it be like to date one of these women? Did Thyra resent it that Runa had a boyfriend?

  “So—what do you do, Andy?”

  He flipped on his blinker. “I teach math at Columbia College.”

  “Ah. My dad’s a teacher.”

  “Our noble profession,” Andy said.

  Runa leaned forward. “Left up here, babe. Then take that to Wild Heather Road.”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I saw that I had a text from Falken: Call me when you can.

  “Excuse me, I have to make a quick phone call,” I said.

  I pressed Falken’s name on my speed dial and he said, “Timeless Treasures.”

  “It’s Hana.”

  “Hana,” he breathed. “You will not believe it. Apparently, Will Kodaly’s sister in Hungary has been put in charge of his estate. She reached out to American friends about someone to handle her brother’s estate sale—she said the family doesn’t want to look at any of it, aside from a few pieces she will itemize—it’s too painful, she said. Anyway, the person she spoke to recommended me. She said I can make the first offer on any pieces I desire.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing! Just his paintings are worth so much, Falken! Even though he was asking a pittance.”

  “Anyway, that’s the situation. If you want to help me go through things before I open to the public, let me know.”

  “Yes, of course I do. Let me know the date, and I’ll arrange to be there.”

  “Good. I’ll be in touch.”

  I said good-bye and rang off. I could feel Thyra’s gaze on the side of my face. “Was that a man’s voice?” she said.

  “Yes. My friend Falken. He owns Timeless Treasures—the little shop just outside the downtown area. Antiques.”

  “Ooooh,” Runa said. “We love antique shops.”

  “He specializes in European things. So we have similar interests.”

  “Yes? Does Erik know about him?” Thyra asked.

  I stared her down. “Erik has met him. He helped Erik choose a gift for me once.”

  Thyra laughed. “Oh, you are so adorable when you get all sparky. A hot-blooded girl. Runa and I have ice in our veins.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” said Andy in an amiable tone.

  “Here we are!” I said with obvious relief. “The tea house. You can just park in the lot there.”

  “No, let us off at the door, Andy,” Runa said.

  Andy did as she said, and I clambered out after Thyra, leaning in again to thank him for the ride.

  “No problem. I’ll be back later for these two.” He lifted his chin at the twins, who now paced around the perimeter of the tea house like restless cats.

  “They take some getting used to, huh?” I asked.

  Andy turned to smile at me. “They do. But when you learn who they are, you love them.”

  “You love Runa?”

  “I do. For my sins,” he added with a little smile.

  I waved and shut the door, and Andy drove off.

  The sisters appeared on either side of me and marched me
through the door. Thyra pointed at our Alpine train. “Look at the sweet little train, Ru. Oh, and what pretty hand-painted border on this entrance wall!”

  At first, I thought they were patronizing me, but it was soon clear that they loved everything about the tea house. When my mother and grandmother appeared, their faces were surprised at seeing tall identical twins in their establishment. I said, “Mom, Grandma, this is Runa Wolf and Thyra Wolf. They’re Erik’s sisters.”

  My grandmother murmured something to my mother in Hungarian, and I heard the word farkas, which meant “wolf.” Runa darted forward to shake Grandma’s hand. “Mrs. Keller?”

  “Mrs. Horvath,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so excited to meet you! Hana has told me about your psychic gifts. I would love to have you read my tea leaves at some point, if you can find the time.”

  My grandmother, like anyone, had her vulnerabilities, and she was susceptible to flattery. “Yah, I can make the time,” she said. “We see what the leaves say for you.”

  Runa practically squealed. “Oh, you are a treasure! Look at this place! I just love the decor and the overall vibe.”

  My mother sent me an urgent glance, and I said, “Mom, I’ll help you with that job in the back room.” Before we could leave, though, François came in, all disheveled hair and French sexiness. Runa and Thyra looked at him like hawks who spied a distracted wren.

  “Who’s this?” asked Thyra, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

  François, the unflappable, stared up at the gorgeous twins with something like fear; he couldn’t seem to look away. “François, these are Detective Wolf’s sisters. They’re my security detail today. Runa, Thyra, this is François, our pastry chef.”

  “French?” asked Runa.

  “Oui,” whispered François. He managed a stupid smile.

  I poked him in the arm. “François has a girlfriend. Practically his fiancée. Her name is Claire.” I said the last word loudly in his ear, and he came out of his trance slightly.