Authors: Ava Frost
Chapter 6
That night, Becky learned a little more about Sylvia, her rival for Jack’s affections. Sylvia was a lawyer as well as an accomplished businesswoman. She’d competed in horseback riding in the Olympics and brought home a silver medal.
Becky leaned back in the chair. “She’s beautiful and worthwhile, but I’m not going to be discouraged.” She shut her computer down. As she headed for the bedroom to change into her nightgown, she said to herself, “I need to know if she’s worthy of Jack. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not prying. I’m just taking care of him. I’ll see what she’s up to tomorrow morning before they go to work.
The next morning before sunrise, Becky made her way through a thick forest in a ravine in the mountains.
She poked her binoculars between two bushes.
Jack Butters lived in a mansion made of huge timbers with the bark still on them. It stretched three stories up into the clean British Columbian air. He'd put it on one side of the broad ravine with a view of the Straits out his front room window. His wealth and political connections made it possible for him to ignore local zoning ordinances and clear a large portion of the forest.
Jack and Sylvia occupied the same bed. Becky sniffed at that. “She’s thin. He deserves a woman with curves.” She watched Sylvia go to breakfast and Jack leave the house. “I shouldn’t be surprised that he already has a woman. I’m different. I might have an edge.”
She watched him go to his stables and lead a dragon out of its stall and away from the main building. She lost sight of him when he and the dragon walked around an outcropping from the mountain.
Jack could have been leading a bull. He held one end of a rawhide cord twelve feet long. The other end attached to a ring going through the nose of the dragon.
He carried a small electronic device in his hand.
His property ended in a small box canyon with sheer walls seventy feet high. Butters positioned the dragon in the middle of the canyon and stepped back. He pressed a button on his device and the dragon blew a column of flame against the canyon wall. The flame carried a blue color through most of its length, turning yellow only at the end.
Jack patted the animal and spoke softly to it. He unhooked his leather cord from the nose ring and pressed another button on the device. The dragon slowly and clumsily stepped around to face out of the canyon. It awkwardly spread his wings. They spread with creaks and groans from the beast.
Once the wings unfurled, the dragon took three strong steps and launched. Jack let him fly for a few minutes then called him back and led him back to his stall.
Chapter 7
The day after was Saturday. Becky loaded her Jeep Wrangler with food and drove to the mountains. She parked out of sight in a small turn-out and walked through the woods. It was hot and sunny. The moisture in the underbrush made it feel like a sauna. Before she'd gone ten feet, her shirt was clinging to her body.
The day before, when she’d watched Jack, she’d used a spot just off the road. She wanted to be closer, and she wanted to look around the outcropping. She didn’t suspect Jack of illegal activities. She just wanted to see what he was doing. She walked a mile into the forest.
She caught sight of surveillance cameras in the trees. She said to herself, “Not surprising. He’s worth a lot of money.”
It took a few minutes to find a dead spot none of the cameras covered. She crept through small bushes to the edge of the ravine. She brought up her binoculars. "Okay, Jack Butters, we don't officially suspect you of doing anything wrong, but what about those around you. Especially that thin woman, Sylvia. Maybe there's a wolf in your pasture." Nothing stirred in her mind at her use of the word. It should have.
Abruptly, Becky stopped looking through the binoculars, stopped moving; and, for a few seconds, stopped breathing.
The cold barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of her neck. A low, mean voice said, "Don't move." The stern voice said, "You're in an area that's under control of the Anatowok Constabulary. You're not allowed in here. You'll have to talk to my superior."
Ten minutes later, she sat in front of Inspector John Knowles. He wasn’t in a good mood. She sat on a camp chair while he walked around her. They were in a tent on a small piece of cleared land. He said, "What the fuck were you doing up there? Don't tell me you were just walking around or hiking or bird watching."
He planted himself directly in front of her with his arms folded across his chest. She’d come to dread that posture.
He wore jeans and a dark blue tee shirt with the letters 'RCMP' in a small type-face across the front. The shirt may have started the day loose and proper, but heat and exertion made it shrink against his sturdy, muscled chest.
His voice made her body shake. His chest and arms were covered with a layer of perspiration. He hadn't shaved or hadn't done it effectively. She focused on his masculine biceps and the way they stretched his shirt. The closed tent made his male odor unavoidable. She had to bring herself back to reality. His next words drove all thoughts of his physical presence out of her mind. He said, "Did you really think you'd see your father out in the open?"
Her eyes leaped open and her chest felt tight. "How did you know about my father?"
"We're policeman. This is a small town. He checked into a hotel and left and never came back. The hotel owner called us. He seemed like a decent man who wouldn't skip out on his hotel bill. We know he didn't leave the island by any of the usual means. He didn't take a ferry or a plane. No one's seen him or knows anything about him. Butters and Butters records say he talked with the head of Information Technology and left. That’s all we’ve been able to find."
Becky's voice was weak and trembling. "You don't know anything at all about my father?"
"No. I'm sorry. Things like this don’t happen on the island. We haven't had a murder in twenty years." Without a change in inflection or cadence, Inspector John Knowles contradicted himself. "We've got good, experienced officers here. They've handled hundreds of murders and disappearances. I know we've done a thorough job, but we've come up with nothing. I'm sorry."
He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her. "You're from Vancouver. I can ask you politely to go home. I want you to know I will make you go home if I have to. This is very dangerous. Butters, or one of his staff, may be a murderer many times over. You'll just get yourself killed. Do you understand?"
Becky nodded her head. "Yes. If I stay here, you'll just have another crime to investigate."
"Good. Call work and tell them you have to go home to help your Aunt Jane deal with a health crisis, and you don't know when you'll be back. Don't come back. I'll call you when we make some progress."
Becky blurted, “How did you know I had an Aunt Jane.”
He stared at her for a few seconds then walked purposefully to the opening of the tent. "Come with me. We'll go by your apartment, and you can pack. We've purchased a ticket for you on the next flight to Vancouver."
The ride from the tent to Becky's apartment was silent. John Knowles wasn't just reluctant to talk. Something, some barrier, separated him from Becky.
He waited while she called her workplace and packed then drove her to the airport, all without talking. He escorted her to the plane and watched her get on.
Becky fidgeted as she sat in her narrow, cramped seat. She couldn't help herself. As soon as the flight attendants were occupied in the rear of the plane, she snuck off.
She ran lightly up the concourse, looking right and left for John. She'd made it to the taxi line before she heard, "Damn it, woman. You're supposed to be on that plane." She streaked for the trees.
Becky kept low as she scurried through the trees and around the bushes. She couldn't hear John crashing through the brush as she'd expected. She couldn't hear anything.
She found a trail. She didn't know where she was and needed to find a taxi, but trails usually led to places with civilization and more taxi’s. She ran along the trail with good speed.
She heard a branch break and looked to her side. The biggest wolf she'd ever seen loped along with her. His gait was relaxed and graceful. He gave her the feeling that he could outrun her easily and just wanted to see where she was going. He was twenty yards from the trail and didn't look aggressive. She looked again. The wolf had a small backpack on its back. She'd never seen that before.
The trail made a sudden turn toward the road. Becky saw a small store. A cab waited out front for someone with money and a need to travel. She jumped in the cab and told the driver to take her to her hotel where her rented car was parked. The cabbie had to write down her destination. He wrote slowly.
While she waited, she looked back to the trail. She saw the wolf standing still behind a tree. She could see his eyes and not much else. The wolf looked from side to side. Becky knew it was making sure it was alone and unseen.
Bad luck fell on the wolf. Shifting clouds created patches of sunlight that wandered around the forest. One of the patches fell on the wolf from behind. Becky could see him quite clearly through the branches.
The animal was suddenly encased in a thick, white fog. Inside the fog, she could see the shape of the wolf change. It stood up on its hind legs and developed shoulders, a flat belly and fully developed legs and arms. The fog blew away. John Knowles stood before her, stark naked.
She couldn't help herself. She took in his upper and lower body then her eyes concentrated on his huge member. She gasped. She didn't have any experience with men but she knew that John Knowles was big. She muttered, "Wow. How does he fit inside a woman?"
Humans don’t always control their ideas. Insights pierce our minds without our permission. Becky’s mind brought up a subject she wouldn’t have thought about under any other conditions. She thought, “I wonder if he’d fit inside of me.” She gasped.
The cabbie finished the paperwork. As they drove off, Becky watched John take clothes out of the small backpack and start to get dressed.
The cab drove for five minutes down a road bordered with thick pine trees until five police cars surrounded it and forced it to stop.
John got out of one of them and walked toward the cab.
She expected anger and profanity. She didn’t see it. He looked troubled. He said, "Come with me" and nothing else.
She followed him to one of the police cars, and they drove away.
Chapter 8
The RCMP barracks looked like any other RCMP barracks anywhere in Canada, except for the thirty foot high chain link fence surrounding it and the coils of razor wire along the top.
John took her to an office labeled ‘Superintendent Henry Eikins’.
A man stood behind a desk in the office. He was mid-size with brown hair and eyes and an athletic build. Becky looked at his eyes. It might have been all in her mind, but she thought she could see an eternity's worth of experience in those eyes.
The man said, "I'm Superintendent Henry Eikins, Miss Stimson. I understand you've seen something that can't be unseen. John should have been more careful. Do you have any questions about what you saw?"
Becky recognized the artful construction of the question. It was open-ended and deceptive. It assumed she'd seen a wolf change into a man and that she'd go along with the assumption without resistance.
Henry’s eyes saw everything inside her, and she knew it. She said, "John tried to conceal himself behind some trees. It wasn't his fault if they didn't have as many branches as he thought."
"That’s kind of you. But what did you see?"
"I saw a huge wolf standing in the forest. A dense cloud grew around it. The light came through the trees and I could see the silhouette inside. The wolf changed shape. He grew shoulders and arms and two legs. I don't know what it was."
"It was a werewolf, Miss Stimson. Everyone in this compound is a werewolf."
John Knowles made a small yowl of pain. Becky jumped and looked at him. He stretched his arms and shoulders and rubbed his legs as if he had cramps. He howled again and tried to get comfortable. He said, “Excuse me. P.T. was rough this morning.”
He trembled violently and stood up. He stretched and rubbed his legs again. He muttered, “Pardon me” and left the room.
"Can we help him?” Becky asked. It sounded like he was in pain."
"He is. Let me explain.” He paused. “I know this is a bit much to take in all at once. Bear with me. You’ll understand when I’m finished.” Becky had trouble concentrating. She worried about John.
Henry continued, “Werewolves have some of the qualities of humans and some of wolves. Like wolves, we go through an intense experience when it's time for us to mate. That happens twice a year. Like humans, however, the desire to mate never leaves us. It binds our pairs together. We've never had a divorce in our pack." He abruptly stood up. "I'm going to show you something disturbing, and I want you to think it over.”
Becky got to her feet. Henry said, "Our survival depends on complete secrecy. You've found out one of our secrets and it's very dangerous to let you leave."
Becky looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean I'm a prisoner?"