Between a Wolf and a Hard Place

by Terry Spear

  He smiled, then lost the smile. “I suppose you’re having dinner with his brother tonight.”

  “Yes, and you don’t need to chaperone us. Really.”

  He pulled her from her chair, knowing he had to get back to work, but he had to ask her one question. “Are you still dreaming about me at night?”

  She gave him a wicked smile, which he took as a powerful yes! Right before he kissed her.

  Chapter 16

  Brett had picked up tons of old family photos from CJ’s house to go through before he went to the tavern for dinner that night. The one he had for the memorial had been perfect, picturing Matilda at the piano with her grandnephews standing around it. But now he was looking for one that might show the dress she loved so much. Not that they’d ever find it. Yet, he was still curious. What if he could show her the photo and ask her if that was the dress she wore the night before she died?

  He was sifting through the photos at his desk at home, looking for the ones when she was older, but one photo caught his eye. An old car that wasn’t vintage but new in the photo. And his mother when she was younger, holding hands with a man standing in front of it. She was smiling, he was smirking, and Brett swore that was the car that Stanton was driving the night he’d hit him.

  The 1930s gray Plymouth. Though in the picture, he couldn’t tell the color. He flipped the photo over, and on the back, written in his mother’s handwriting, was Bill Smith and Me.

  He couldn’t believe it. A human boyfriend before she met his dad and married him? Did she know he was a bank robber?

  He called CJ. “You won’t believe what I found.” He continued to sort through the photos, looking for one of his great-aunt, and found one where she was with her sister and a couple of guys—all decked out. It was dated six months before she died. Was this the dress? He recognized one of the men. Theodore. But not the other. “I found a photo of Mom with Bill Smith. Shorty Bill Smith and his car. She looks like she was about eighteen in the photo.”

  “The bank robber?”

  “Yeah, and the car that Stanton was driving. I also found a photo of Matilda with her sister and two men six months before she died. Theodore and someone else. Maybe we can make a copy of it and send it around the pack to see if anyone knows who he was.”

  “Okay, we can do that. Are you going to the tavern tonight?”

  “Yeah. Are you?”

  “No. Laurel wants me to spend tonight home with her.”

  Brett chuckled. “Okay. Well, looks like about that time. Got to go. Talk to you later.”

  “You’ll have to show me the photo of Mom and the thug. I can’t believe it.”

  “Me either. I wonder if Dad knew about it.”

  “I’ll have to dig up news reports of who the arresting—well, would-have-been arresting—officers were. If Shorty hadn’t died.”

  “Okay, let me know what you learn.”

  “Will do.” After they ended the call, Brett headed over to the tavern, parked, and went inside.

  “I thought you were crazy for suggesting that Ellie date other guys,” Sam told Brett as he arrived early for dinner, took a seat, and got a beer.

  “You changed your mind?”

  Sam shrugged. “The place is packed every time she arrives to have a meal with another guy.” He handed Brett a mug of beer. “Yesterday when she canceled on Radcliff for lunch, I swear the whole pack knew about it, and it was the deadest it has ever been in here.”

  “Well, enjoy it while it lasts, because after she dines with Radcliff and his brother, she’s not dating anyone else.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Brett eyed Sam, wondering if he’d gotten wind of something. “Yeah.” He took a swig of his beer. “She hasn’t gotten any more calls from bachelor males.” Not that he knew of.

  Sam dried another beer mug and set it behind the counter.

  “Well, do you know something I don’t?” Brett asked him.

  “I don’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I heard through the rumor mill that Sarandon asked her to go out with him in the morning.”

  “She doesn’t eat big breakfasts, as far as I know.”

  Sam leaned over the counter. “That’s all I know. If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask Sarandon.”

  No way was Brett going to ask his brother what was going on. Knowing him, Sarandon was going to lecture Ellie, not date her. Where would they be going in the morning? Silva made cinnamon rolls to go, but her tea shop was only open for lunch. Unless Sarandon had made special arrangements with her.

  Brett wasn’t going to try to track them down, as much as the reporter in him wanted to—and the wolf in him too. He heard the door jingle and glanced back at it. Silva was chatting happily with Ellie as they walked into the tavern. He wanted to sweep Ellie right out the door and have dinner with her—and forget that her date was closing the door right behind her.

  * * *

  Poor wolf, Ellie thought as she saw Brett, beer mug in hand, take a seat where Darien and Lelandi usually sat when they came here. The place was packed except for a table reserved for her and her date. None of the other Silvers showed up, which made it even harder to see Brett sitting there all alone, staring into his mug of frothy beer.

  “Want to ask him to join us?” Kemp asked. “It’s almost painful to watch him suffering so.”

  Ellie laughed. She loved the guys she had dated. They were all so decent, though she suspected they would have been a lot more forward if she wasn’t really dating Brett. She loved Brett most of all. “No, he wanted this. Besides, I’ve told all of you it’s only for fun.”

  “Unless someone else made your heart skip for joy, right? I mean, that’s why we all were begging you to go out with us. Not because we wanted to teach Brett a lesson, but mainly because we all hoped we would have a chance to be that one and only for you.”

  “Of course. And I warned Brett that could happen.”

  “I bet he wasn’t happy with that notion.”

  “Besides that I was dating wolves from the pack?”

  Kemp laughed. “Serves him right. If I had been dating you, I would never have suggested it.” He drank his beer and set the glass aside. “So, I hear Sarandon asked you out.”

  “You know, we were never with a pack, and I really have a hard time believing how fast word gets around.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  She shook her head. “If you know, I’m sure everyone knows.”

  Kemp looked over at Brett. “Including him.”

  She had no idea what Sarandon had in mind, though she suspected he was going to give her a long talk about dating Brett, or what he was really like, or something. At least, she hoped that was all this was about. She hadn’t planned to go out with anyone else, just lunch with Radcliff tomorrow. So she’d begrudgingly agreed to go with Sarandon in the morning, after he said he’d bring some fresh cinnamon rolls from Silva’s shop, hot coffee, and green tea.

  This time when she ended her dinner and thanked her date for a lovely time, she headed home and knew she wouldn’t see Brett tonight…except maybe in her dreams.

  But after she finally retired to bed and heard the wolf howl again at the inn, she headed to Meghan’s room and knocked. “Hey, Meghan! Did you hear the wolf howl?”

  After a couple of minutes, Meghan opened her door, wearing a long-sleeved flannel shirt, her eyes squinting. “What?” She was still half asleep, and Ellie suspected she hadn’t heard a wolf howl.

  She let out her breath and told her sister what she’d heard.

  “No. And I don’t want to hear a wolf howling. Put some earplugs in. Night.” Meghan closed her bedroom door and returned to bed.

  It was true that Meghan could sleep through about anything when she was tired enough, but Ellie wished someone else would hear the wolf. Preferably Brett so th
at he could identify if the wolf was his aunt. Of course after Ellie went to the inn to check it out, she saw nothing of a wolf or Matilda in her human form. Ellie retired to bed finally, wondering if she even had any earplugs…just in case.

  * * *

  The next morning, CJ called Brett as he was trying to concentrate on writing an article about Shorty Bill Smith and putting a local spin on it. “Hey, did you hear Sarandon’s taking Ellie somewhere this morning?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s not interested in her. He only is concerned about you.”

  “Yeah, I’m not worried about it. Unless he upsets her.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be careful.”

  Sarandon had better be, but Brett couldn’t quit thinking about what they were doing, and he was trying to keep occupied until he knew. “I have something else I need to discuss with you. I spoke to Ellie about Yolan’s exorcism offer. She said no, but we were talking more about what could be the reason for Aunt Matilda’s death. Do you know who I can speak with that might know who she was seeing?”

  “Maybe Bertha Hastings. She’s been a friend of the family forever, and she’s older than our mother but younger than our great-aunt.”

  “Okay, I’ll check with her. I’ll make some calls. Let you know what I discover.” And that’s what Brett spent the rest of the morning doing. Calling all of the older pack members about who had seen Matilda in the days before and after she had died.

  “Her son, your uncle Ned, had been there,” Bertha Hastings said as he sat down with her at her kitchen table. The place was always decorated with flowers no matter the time of year. Bertha’s bed-and-breakfast was cheerful like Bertha was, her white hair coiled in a bun, the fragrance of roses scenting the air.

  Uncle Ned had died in a boating accident, so no help there.

  “Your grandmother was there, of course,” Bertha said. “They really were close, you know.”

  “Remer, the piano teacher, said my grandmother was jealous that Matilda could play the piano so well.”

  “Nonsense. She was really proud of her sister’s accomplishment. She bragged about her sister’s success all the time. Sure, she wished she were as talented as Matilda, but she never said anything that made it sound as though she was envious of her. Matilda was jealous that Caroline had a boyfriend though.”

  “Grandmom did?”

  “Yeah. Theodore Cochran, Remer’s grandfather, in fact. He had a real courtship going on with your grandmother. But she wouldn’t agree to mate him and stayed with her sister instead. Some wolves never want to take another mate. Both your great-aunt and grandmother were that way.”

  “So Matilda wasn’t seeing Theodore.” Brett pulled out the picture of his grandmother and great-aunt with the two men.

  “Oh my,” Bertha said, smiling at the photo. “That’s such a nice photo of them. Okay, that’s Benjamin Wheeler and Theodore.”

  “Tell me about Benjamin.”

  Bertha shrugged. “He was a builder. Built a lot of the early homes in the area. My bed-and-breakfast even, though at the time it was just a home. He did have a hobby though. He loved to play the piano, and he and your great-aunt would play duets together. This was after her mate died. Come to think of it, I remember hearing Theodore at her house the one day. I was a kid, came over for piano lessons, and he was upset with her. He was angry that Benjamin was over there all the time, worried that Benjamin really wanted to see Caroline, since she was living there too.”

  “Was he upset with Grandmom for not mating him?”

  “He was. He tried courting another widowed wolf to make Caroline jealous, I believe. She just called him an old goat. Then she changed her mind and said he was just being a dog. So it didn’t work on her. He quit seeing the other woman and kept hanging around Caroline after that, I guess figuring that he enjoyed her company more even if she wouldn’t mate him.”

  Brett smiled, imagining his grandmother telling Theodore that.

  “I think after Matilda died, he thought your grandmother would mate him, but she said she was too set in her ways. He died five years later. Six months later, she also died.”

  “All of natural causes?”

  “Of course. Why would you ask that? Oh, don’t tell me. Matilda is haunting the piano.”

  “How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “It’s the only thing I could think of that would make you question their deaths. You recently moved the piano to the inn. The sisters are sensitive to ghosts. I just added up the facts.”

  “Well, we’re trying to take care of it and not let on that it’s happening.”

  “She’s playing the piano?”

  “Sometimes. They’re afraid she’ll play when the guests are trying to sleep at night.”

  “Well, if you need my help, let me know. I’d be happy to talk to her.”

  He frowned. “You can see ghosts too?”

  “No. I can still talk to her and see if anything I say helps. Oh my, you don’t think Theodore had anything to do with Matilda’s death, do you? I mean, maybe he thought if she were gone, Caroline would mate with him.”

  “Sounds like a motive. But how to prove it if it really happened that way.” He studied the photo. “Grandmom wanted to have Matilda buried in her favorite dress, but she couldn’t locate it for the funeral. Was this the dress she was thinking about?”

  “It certainly could be. She only wore it for special occasions. You can’t tell from the picture, but the dress is forest green. She loved that color.”

  It had nothing to do with Matilda, but wondering if Bertha would know anything about the other photo, he pulled it out and showed her.

  “Oh, oh, I’m surprised your father didn’t get rid of that photo.”

  “Granddad had it for some reason. He passed it down to us.”

  “Well, that’s Shorty Bill Smith. The bank robber who hit our local bank. He had gotten sweet on your mother around the time your dad met her. Your dad led the posse that took off after Shorty and killed him. Or the man actually killed himself, from what eyewitnesses said.”

  “How did Mom take the news?”

  “She was shocked. She never knew Shorty was a bank robber. She always told your dad he had saved her from ruin. Exaggerated, of course. Shorty was human, and she wouldn’t have ever married him and changed him.”

  “I bet Dad wouldn’t have liked that. About my great-aunt, everyone was there to see Matilda for the funeral, right?”

  “Everyone but Theodore. He’d come down with a bad cold and wasn’t feeling well. ’Course, Caroline went to take him her homemade chicken soup and wanted to check on him after her sister had died from a cold that wasn’t all that bad. On top of that, the poor man had fallen and bruised the side of his head something terrible. But then they had a falling-out, I think over the fact that she wouldn’t marry him even after her sister died, and I don’t think they spoke to each other again.”

  “A bruise from falling?”

  “He said he’d spilled some water on the floor, slipped on it, and hit his head on the table going down.”

  “Did she believe him?”

  “I guess. She was worried about him.”

  “Thanks, Bertha.” If not that, was it as Ellie had said? Matilda was angry she had died when she did, and it had nothing to do with anything else? But what if Theodore had gone out with Matilda in the boat the night before she died?

  * * *

  “Omigod, Sarandon, this is beautiful.” Ellie did a pirouette under the green metal roof of Matilda’s burned-down home. Three picnic tables were situated on the cement slab, with a grill on a separate slab and even outdoor lighting for night use. The fireplace had been refurbished, and a marble memorial plaque was attached to one of the pillars. Nearby she saw a wrought iron arbor that she hadn’t noticed before. It was freshl
y painted white, and there were a few rose canes climbing over the arbor. Then Ellie saw the gazebo. It was beautiful.

  “Jake had old photos of her tending her roses around the gazebo, so we could replicate it just like it had been during its glory years. As you can see, we built stone planters around the roses so when they begin to grow, everyone can enjoy them.”

  Sarandon folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “You suggested it to Brett, he mentioned it to the rest of us, and Eric told me to make it happen. I wanted you to see it first since it was your idea and we wanted to know if you thought we needed to make any changes.”

  Tears in her eyes, she smiled at him and turned to see the view. “It’s glorious. Just perfect. I couldn’t suggest anything different. When will we commemorate it?”

  “We’ll have a ceremony soon.” He frowned at her. “Your lunch date is the last one you’re having with any of the other guys, right?”

  “Yeah, except for our breakfast date. That’s it.”

  “Well, breakfast with me doesn’t count.”

  “Sure it does. Maybe not in a boyfriend-girlfriend way, but we are on a date, Sarandon Silver.” She took his hand and led him to the table where he’d set the bag of cinnamon rolls and the tray of coffee and tea.

  They sat next to each other so they could watch the river flow by, a cinnamon roll in one hand, a hot beverage in the other, and just listened to the birds singing in the trees as the sparrows woke to find a meal. The sky was turning pink and orange and blue, the breeze stirring the leaves and pine needles. She wished Brett were here with her enjoying the beauty of the woods and the river, having breakfast with her, seeing the sun rise. What a way to start a day.

  * * *

  Brett didn’t have any plan to stay away from the tavern while Ellie had her last date. He wanted her to know he was the follow-up date for tonight and every other occasion. Though the truth of the matter was, he was barely holding it together and couldn’t wait for these dates to be over. He still didn’t know what her date with Sarandon had been about.