by Renee George
"I didn't kill him," Cal said.
"It doesn't matter. Small towns operate on appearance." She gestured with a wave of her hand. "This is non-predator territory, and you shouldn't be here. Like, at all. This is not going to go over well with the folks in town who are already afraid."
"I didn't kill him," Cal said again.
"You were fighting with him just last evening." Willy threw up her hands. "Then you took off into the woods with his girlfriend."
"He tried to fight me. I didn't fight with him," Cal said.
"And ex-girlfriend," I added. "I broke it off with Luke a while back. He just couldn't take no for an answer."
"And that's why you killed him," Willy said.
"No!" Cal and I both said simultaneously.
"I believe you, kid. Honest," Willy said, "but it's not how other people will see it. This looks like a clear case of love triangle gone wrong."
"Cal and I aren't even dating," I protested.
Willy pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze on me as Cal wrapped a blanket from the back around my shoulders.
"You want to stick with that story?" she asked.
"I've asked Dakota out," Cal said. "But we haven't gone on an actual date."
Willy put her hand on her hips. "And what do you call last night?"
"An impulsive decision," I said. One, that up until we were drugged and had awakened next to a dead body, I hadn't regretted. "Can we not tell my mom? I mean, isn't there such a thing as confidentiality with police stuff?"
"Nope," Willy said. "No such thing. Besides, do you really want your mom finding out from someone else, like..." She gestured toward Connelly. "You know he's going to tell his wife, and if Selena knows, everyone knows."
I groaned. "That's true. I suppose it's better if it comes from me."
Doctor Smith showed up next. He got out and walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for is wife Chavvah. She slid out of her seat, her large belly leading the way.
A green truck roared in a few seconds later, and I groaned again. It was my brother Tyler, only not on official business. My brother wore jeans and a red and black flannel shirt. He slid his truck to a halt, tearing up the grass in the process. He jumped out of the truck, his finger pointing at Cal, as he shouted, "Stay away from her, you freak."
I was too dumbstruck to do more than step into his charging path.
"Get out of the way, Kota."
"No," I told him. "Not until you settle down."
"That... that..." he sputtered. "He killed Luke!"
"He did not!" I balled my hands into fists. "How did you even hear about this?" I glared at Willy. She shook her head. We both turned to Connelly, and he quickly averted his gaze.
"It doesn't matter who told me. The point is, you don't know anything about this guy. You've known Luke your whole life. Why are you taking his side?"
"Because he's a decent man, Tyler. And not a hot head like you."
My brother jerked his chin as if I'd landed a physical blow. "I am worried about you," he said through clenched teeth.
"Worry less and listen more."
His tone deepened as his annoyance rose. "I don't trust him."
"Him or his kind?" I asked. When he didn't answer me, I said, "Dude, you've got to stop drinking the fruit punch. The lycanthropes aren't the ones who are starting trouble. They didn't round up a mob to go to Luke's house last night, did they? No. That was a therianthrope."
"One who's dead now," Tyler said. "Or does his impulsive act last night warrant an execution."
Chavvah Smith came to stand next to me. "I'm curious, Tyler Thompson. Do you just have a problem with Cal? Or do you have a problem with all my wolves?" Her voice held a dangerous edge that made me want to take three steps back.
"I..." he lowered his eyes. "I don't have any problem. I'm just worried about my sister."
"Willy and I have her," Chavvah said. "You can go."
"And don't tell your mother," Willy warned him in a tone that brokered no argument. "This is something she should hear from your sister, not you."
Tyler glared at me, but he knew when he was outnumbered. "Fine. But if you don't tell Mom immediately--"
"I will." I felt like a petulant child, but unlike Taylor, Tyler brought out the worst in me. For identical twins, they couldn't have been more opposite in personalities.
After Tyler left, I hovered with Cal on the other side of the vehicles while the investigators investigated. "Don't take my brother too seriously," I told him. "It takes him a while to warm up to strangers."
Cal pulled my blankets tighter around my shoulders. "And what about you? How long does it take you to warm up to strangers?"
"Come on, you two," Chavvah said. "Sheriff Taylor says I can take you both home after Doc draws your blood."
"Great," I said with zero enthusiasm.
"I should go with Dakota. I can try and explain to her parents--"
Willy and Chavvah both said, "No," at the same time.
Chavvah said, "Look, Cal. I know this isn't your fault. But the wolves are on loose footing around here, and you heading into Peculiar right now is a bit like walking on limestone. Take the wrong step and it will crumble beneath you. I have too much to lose if the good folk around here decide you all have to leave." She put her hand on her round belly and gazed at Cal. "We all do."
"I get it," he said. "I'll go back to Jo Jo's and lay low today."
Chav gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Good. It's settled then. I'll drop you off first, so, Ruth doesn't have to see me pull up to the house with both of you."
"I'm sorry," I said to Cal. He put his arms around me, and I didn't pull away. This might be the last time he ever held me. I couldn't deny myself the moment. "This is all my fault."
"We'll get it figured out, Dakota. Someone or something killed Dwyer. The police will figure out who, and we'll put this tragedy behind us."
If only, I thought, as I breathed in his scent. If only.
Chapter Eight
"I swear to heaven, child, if you were younger, I'd ground you into old age," my mother said. "What were you thinking taking off with that man? You don't know anything about him."
"Neither do you," I snapped back, surprising both of us. It was six-twenty in the morning, and my thoughts still felt a bit fuddled and heavy. I rubbed my inner arm absently where Doc Smith had drawn blood before we'd left the scene. Willy had taken our preliminary statement, but we were told to come down to the station sometime this afternoon to fill out official witness statements. I hoped the Doc would find something to prove we were drugged before then.
My mom shook her head. "I'd expect something like this from Michele but not you." She paced back in forth in the kitchen. "When your father hears about this, he's going to have a fit."
I'd heard mom say those same words to Michele before, and to my knowledge, Dad hadn't had a single fit, yet. "None of this was meant to upset you mom. It just happened." Just usually not to me. I sighed. "I don't know why anyone would want to harm Luke. I only know for sure that Cal didn't do it."
"And how do you know that?" she asked. "According to you, you were drugged and can't remember a dang thing."
The only proof I had that Cal didn't do it was my intuition and instinct, neither of those would hold up in court. How could I explain it to Mom without sounding like a silly, love-sick girl, and not a rational woman who draws reasoned conclusions? I couldn't, so I didn't try. "I just know."
"That's the kind of evidence that clears murder cases all the time," she said sarcastically. I'd heard her take this tone with some of my siblings, but never with me. I found I didn't care much to be on the wrong foot of Mom's ire.
"They haven't said it was murder." Not yet, anyhow. I was sure it would come. We didn't end up drugged and set up to look guilty because Luke had been accidentally killed. No. Someone had wanted to frame Cal. But who? As far as I knew, Luke had no enemies.
Mom echoed my thoughts. "Why in the world would someone wa
nt to kill Luke? He was a respectable boy from a good family. This has to be about the wolves."
"Maybe," I said. I couldn't get Luke's threat to report Cal to the town council off my mind. It was damning as a motive. Even if Cal hadn't harmed Luke, he might have told one of the other werewolves. But would someone kill to prevent being kicked out of a town? It seemed like a stretch, but who knew. I'd watched true crime shows where people had been killed for less.
"Tell me what you're thinking," Mom said. "And don't hold anything back."
"Cal was with me when I woke up yesterday on the Hackenstraw property. Luke saw him and threatened to tell. Maybe Cal told one of the other lycanthropes. Maybe they decided to stop Luke before he could," I admitted as a possibility. "Luke didn't show up at your meeting, though, did he? You would have said something about it before dinner last night, right?"
A tremor started in my hands and went to my knees as my vision became spotty. "I don't feel so good." I braced myself against the table to keep myself upright as the full weight of my circumstances wore me down. Luke was dead, and it was possibly my fault. Dear, God, I hoped that wasn't true.
Mom pulled out a chair for me at the table. "Sit down, dear." Her tone was civil again. "You must be in shock, seeing that boy like that."
My shoulders began to shudder as a sob caught in my throat. "It was awful." I rubbed my upper arms, taking comfort from the memory of Cal's embrace. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Poor thing," Mom said. "You're pale as a ghost. You were handling it all so well, I didn't even think about the toll it might be taking on you."
"I don't understand how this happened. Luke didn't have enemies."
"Yes, he did," Michele said. Mom and I both startled as my younger sister walked into the kitchen. Her dark blond hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a low-cut blouse with tight jeans.
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Who hated Luke?"
"I can't say," Michele said. "I shouldn't have said anything." She grabbed a Granny Smith apple from a bowl on the counter. "It's just...Luke wasn't a good guy."
"You explain yourself, little miss," my mom said.
Michele raised a brow. "Can't," she said. "Gotta go. Sunny expects me at her house in fifteen minutes to watch the kids." She gave mom a smooch on the cheek then cast a sympathetic look in my direction. "I have a feeling this town is going to be reeling soon. I'm glad you dumped his stupid ass when you did." And as quickly as she'd breezed into the conversation, Michele had breezed out.
My mom sat down, her expression bewildered. "Dumped who?"
"Luke," I said.
"I thought you were still seeing him." Ugh. I couldn't take the look of betrayal she was casting in my direction. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I haven't been seeing him for a couple months now. You were so happy when I started dating him. I didn't have the heart to tell you that I couldn't like him the way you wanted me to like him. I didn't want to disappoint you."
"Oh, my darling girl." Mom reached across the table and took my hand. "You have never disappointed me." She sighed. "Well, maybe a little last night. Running off, staying out all night, getting yourself drugged. You could have been killed! That's the only reason I'm upset. I don't care who you date. I liked Luke for you because I thought you liked Luke for you. And I was angry about Cal because, you were placed in a very vulnerable position last night while you were out with him."
I didn't try to hold back the tears. Mom reached over the counter and handed me the roll of paper towels. "I want you happy and safe, Dakota. That's all I've ever wanted for any of my children."
I knew she believed what she was saying but as the oldest girl in the family, Mom and Dad both expected more from me than my siblings. I didn't blame them. I'd taken on the role of helper and caretaker without complaint. Sometimes, though, it was hard to live up to the standard I'd created for myself. "I'm going to go lay down for a while, if that's okay. I still don't feel well."
Mom nodded. "That's a good idea. I'll let your dad know you won't be working today."
I passed Lisa Ann in the hall. She was dressed and had her school backpack on. It surprised me because usually she was the last one ready and the last one out the door. I usually had to tell her to get out of bed half a dozen times before she'd actually get up. "Where you off to so early?"
She gave me a funny look then brusquely said, "School," as she brushed past me.
I did not have the capacity to deal with a moody teen this morning, so I didn't even try. "All right, then. You have a nice day."
I tossed and turned a lot, but I definitely did not sleep. My phone was still somewhere in the woods at Jo Jo's. Chav wouldn't let me out of the truck when she dropped off Cal, so I wasn't able to get it back. But not having a phone meant I couldn't check on Cal. His brother and sister-in-law had looked as angry as my mom. He was probably still being grilled by them. The longer I stewed about what had happened, the more Michele's words haunted me. Luke wasn't the good guy we thought he was. What did she mean? Maybe I could sneak away to Sunny's and catch Michele in private. Would she tell me? She seemed adamant she was going to keep her secrets. Even so, I had to try. I'd covered for her more times over the years than I had fingers and toes. She owed me.
All my younger brothers and sisters were at school, and Mom had gone to help Dad in the shop. Still, I waited until after lunch to make my escape. I'd left my truck at Taylor's and I had a hideaway holder inside the driver side front wheel well with an extra key. It was a mile across town to Taylor's place, but I made quick time cutting through yards and between businesses. Sunny's house was a mile or two from Jo Jo's. Maybe I'd swing by after to get my phone, and if I happen to run into a certain werewolf, well, it would be pure coincidence. Hah.
Sunny and Babel Trimmel's house was a darling little one-story cabin just off the road with a covered porch and a two-seater swing. Michele's red car was in the driveway, but so was Sunny's gold van. Shoot. I considered driving past the house without stopping but decided being a coward wouldn't help Cal and the lycanthropes. I needed to know what secret or secrets my sister harbored.
"I won't be here long," I heard Sunny say to Michele as she opened the door. When she saw me, she said, "Come in, Dakota. I've been expecting you."
Ooh-key dokey. "How did you know?"
"I'm a psychic." She pointed to her head. "In case, you've forgotten."
Wow, either her visions which had been unreliable in the past were getting sharper or... I grimaced. "Mom called you, didn't she."
Sunny smiled. "That, too." I walked past her as she waved me in. Baby Jude, who was now four-years-old ran around the living room making vroom-vroom noise as he crashed into the couch, the love seat, and the recliner. Dawn, only a year younger than him, giggled and clapped her hand every time he wrecked.
Michele encouraged the play, while keeping Jude away from anything he could permanently damage, like the television set. She glanced up at me. "I owe Sunny ten dollars."
"I'll take it out of your babysitting fee," Sunny said. She winked at me. "Michele thought you'd show up this morning, but I told her you wouldn't be here until after noon."
"How did you--"
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "It's the sweet spot between lunch and dinner in order to avoid your parents disapproval."
"That's mean," I said.
Michele snickered. "But true."
"Look, I've known you all for several years now, and it's not hard to read the dynamic of your family. You do all the worrying about your parents which frees the other kids up to worry only about themselves."
"Hey!" Michele said. She scooped Judah up under one arm and Dawn under the other. "I worry plenty about other people."
Sunny's body grew still for a second then she strolled across the room to Michele and lightly touched her face. "You should tell Dakota what you know," she said.
"I can't. I promised."
"And someone's been killed. Some promises can't be kept," she
said. She took her children from my sister. "I'll take the babies outside. You talk to your sister."
Michele, her face solemn, nodded. "Okay."
"Wait," I said to Sunny. "Did you have a vision of who killed Luke?" Because that would save us all a heap of trouble.
"No." She shook her head. "Oh, and I had a premonition this morning about you. I'm not sure what it means but I see dancing chickens in your future."
"You're so weird," I told her.
"Hey, I see what I see." On that note, she took the children outside to play.
Michele sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. "Come and sit."
I did. "What's going on, Mishy? What did you mean this morning about Luke not being a good guy?"
"Come on," she said. "You had to sense it. You did break up with him after all."
I flushed guiltily. "Not because I thought he was a bad guy."
"Then why?"
I twirled a lock of my hair between my fingers and toed the carpet, embarrassed by my answer.
"Oh," Michele said. "Now you have to tell me. Was he a bad kisser?" She gasped. "Bad in bed? Ooo. No. Don't tell me if you were having sex with that asshole."
"I wasn't having sex with him, and he kissed just fine. Just not fine enough to make me want to have sex with him."
"Then why did you break up with him?"
I met my sister's gaze. "He was boring."
She snorted her surprise. "You're boring. It seems like a match made in Heaven."
Like with Sunny, Michele's words hurt. "I might seem boring on the outside, but on the inside, I'm turbulent as hell."
"All right," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "I'm just surprised is all." Uncharacteristically, she patted my knee in a gesture of comfort. Her voice held a tone I wasn't used to in Michele. Serious and somber. "What I'm about to tell you is going to be hard to hear."