The Mountain's Shadow (19 page)

“Which lawyer?”

“Peter Bowman.” Her mouth twisted like the name itself tasted foul. “He came whispering in the mayor’s ear. There’s lots of places they coulda gone, but they came here.”

“Did you hear Peter’s son was kidnapped the night before last?”

Honey’s mouth opened in an oval. “That little blond boy? Don’t get me wrong, I got no use for the father, but the mother and son are precious. And his brother and cousin are right nice, too. You know they’re doctors?”

“Yep.”

She seemed to want to say something more but kept her mouth firmly closed. The phone rang. She got up and took it in the little galley kitchen.

As she talked, I looked around the apartment. Pictures of the whole family in cheap wooden frames lined the walls and crowded the coffee tables. I saw Johnny Jorgens in them—a smiling baby, then a happy young boy, then as a pre-adolescent, his smile a little cocky but also sad in the photo of him, his mother and Louise in front of a small, old wood-frame house. I searched his face. Nothing hinted that he would have run away. I wondered what had happened to his father.

“That one was taken right after we moved from our old place. We wanted a picture of it before it was torn down so the kids would always remember where they came from.”

“I see.”

She turned away and rubbed her palms on her jeans again.

“Are you okay?”

“That was Ricky down at the junkyard. He said the tow truck brought our car in, and it’s messed up real bad.” She wiped a tear with the heel of her hand. “He asked me what I wanted done with it. I told him to just keep it and sell it for parts if he wants. I don’t ever want to see it again.”

“Where did they find it?”

“On the road between town and your house.” She frowned. “Was she supposed to be seeing you that morning at your house?”

“We were going to meet at the diner.”

“That’s what she’d told me.”

An idea struck me. “Would you mind if I took a look at it?”

“If you think it will help…” My original feeling that she resented me and the part I played in her mother’s death reasserted itself. “Do whatever you want with it.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Jorgens.” I stood.

“If you can figure out why…” She bit off the rest of the sentence, her mouth a straight line.
 

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can do. But sometimes it’s not enough.”

Lonna met me at the diner, where we grabbed another cup of coffee and compared notes.

“How’d it go with Louise’s daughter? What’s her name?”

“Honey. And there’s a little girl that I didn’t see at all.”

“I bet all the parents are keeping their kids close.”

“From what I’ve seen of the werewolves, I don’t blame them. Who knows what they’d do on a hunt?”

Lonna shuddered. “That’s not a pleasant picture.”

“Since we’re on the topic of unpleasant pictures, she got a phone call while I was there, and the junkyard guy told her they’d found Louise’s car, and it was messed up pretty bad.”

“Ooooh, any chance we could see it?”

“I got her permission.”

“Good.”

“And how did things go with Matt?”

“He wasn’t there. His secretary said he hadn’t been in all week.”

I lowered my voice. “But hasn’t he been on the hunt?”

She shrugged. “We’ll have to ask the guys. But first, let’s go see the car.”

I didn’t ask where she’d been while I spoke with Louise, but I could guess. Talking to Matt’s secretary would only take so long. I glanced out the window as we drove out of the square and saw Peter Bowman, his eyes narrowed in our direction, at the door of his office.

Chapter Twelve

Ricky’s Junk Yard was just outside of the subdivision boundaries and farther along the twisted mountain road we had taken to get up to Crystal Pines. When we pulled up, Ricky himself came out to greet us.

“And what’ll you ladies be wantin’ to look at?” he asked as he gave each of us the once-over. His narrow face betrayed only polite interest, but I got the feeling he figured we’d be a waste of time.

“We’re interested in a car you just towed back here this morning,” I said. “It belonged to Louise Jorgens.”

His eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “And how’d you know that?”

“Honey told me.”

“Ah, so you’ll be the old man’s granddaughter. And this is the friend?”

“This is Lonna Marconi, a social worker from Little Rock.”

“Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand and turned the full force of her smile on him.

“Well, now, I normally wouldn’t mind you ladies takin’ a look, but Sheriff Knowles said no one was to touch the car ’til he gets his guys out here to check it out. He was already pretty pissed I’d moved it.”

“We’ll only be a moment,” I said.
 

He chewed on something. Gum, I hoped. “He was pretty insistent.”

“I’m sure he was,” said Lonna. “Can you at least tell us where you found it?”

“Honey mentioned it was between town and my place.”

“Yep. It was off the road a little ways in the woods. I’d’ve never seen it if it hadn’t caught the glare off the rising sun.”

“And what were you doing on that road?” I crossed my arms and tried to look intimidating.

“The old man paid me to drive that way a couple times a week and take care of any dead animals in the road. I thought I’d do it outta respect for his memory.”

“Oh. Thanks, then. I appreciate it.”

“Are you sure we can’t take a little peek?” Lonna was in full charm mode now. “We don’t even have to touch it, just take a look.”

Ricky rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, if y’all don’t touch it, I guess I can let you take a peek at it.”

“Thank you.”

He led us through the wood cabin that served as an office to the “back lot”, a dirt slope strewn with vehicles in various stages of disembowelment and dismemberment. Louise’s car, a white domestic hatchback, was near the edge. The crumpled front end and dented sides told us it had gone off the road, rolled, and crashed into a tree or other large obstacle.

“Wow,” I said. “How in the world did she survive that? That’s why she was in such bad shape when she showed up at my place.”

Lonna was already scribbling her number on a piece of paper. “Would you do me a favor, Ricky?”

“Sure, ma’am.”

“Would you give me a call and let me know what the police say about the car?”

His jaw dropped. “I don’t know if I can do that, ma’am.”

She looked up at him through her long eyelashes. “It would mean a lot to me if you would.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ll see what I can do.” Something caught his eye at the back of the lot, and his face went white. “I’ve got to do some paperwork, ladies. The gate in the fence over yonder is unlocked. Just remember, don’t touch the car.”

He scurried back into the office, and I turned to see a woman in a long white dress gliding through the cars. My first thought was that it was the angry ghost of one of the vehicles’ former owners, but then Lonna narrowed her eyes.

“Isn’t that the chick who was with Leo in the restaurant on Tuesday? What’s her name, Kyra? The third—”

“Yep, that’s Kyra Ellison.” I interrupted her before she could blurt out the word.

She came closer, and I saw she wore a white sundress. So much for the ghost. But she did look pissed.

“You!” Her shout was almost a shriek. “You’re the one.”

“One what?” I couldn’t tell if she was looking at me or Lonna.

“Man-stealer!” She reached into the pocket of her dress, and Lonna grabbed my arm.

“Run!”

We ran through the gate, hopped in the Jeep, and Lonna gunned the engine. We peeled out of the gravel parking lot, and when I looked back, I couldn’t see her.

“What was that about?”
 

Lonna relaxed her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “I think she’s jealous.”

“Of who? Could she be sleeping with Peter, too?”

“I think she was jealous of you, Joanie.”

“Me? That’s a preposterous idea. Why should she be jealous of me?”

“Because her boyfriend is sleeping at your house right now.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”

“Just what you need, a territorial bitch of a woman who can turn into a predator.”

“I think most of us can when we’re threatened.” Honey Jorgen’s red-rimmed eyes came to mind. “Or when it’s our kids in trouble.”

Gabriel had lunch ready for us when we returned. Although the dark circles under their eyes and shadowed jaws betrayed the fact they had only had a couple of hours of sleep, Leo and Ron seemed to be in good spirits.

“How are you so awake?” I looked at each of them as they dug in to the Philly-style cheesesteak sandwiches. “I would be dead after that little sleep.”

Leo spoke around the bite in his mouth. “We were in residency, remember? It’s no worse than a call night.”

“That’s right, I’d forgotten.” I searched my mind for a topic change. I’m sure they didn’t like to be reminded of what they’d lost, especially Ron, who scowled across the table.

Lonna jumped to my rescue. “So I’m curious, do you only have your transformations at the full moon, or is it every night?”

Leo and Ron looked at each other, and Leo motioned for Ron to answer since his mouth was full.

“The full moon is the only time when we
have
to transform. We can transform any night, but the urge is overwhelming at the full moon.”

“Right.” Lonna scribbled something on her ever-present notepad. “And how much do you remember of your activities the next day?”

Leo answered this time. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like having had a really vivid dream to the point that some parts just don’t make sense. I know there’s stuff I don’t remember. It’s like the animal part of the brain takes over, especially at the full moon.”

Lonna looked at me, and I knew she and I had the same thought: could they have taken the children? The savory sandwich turned to dust in my mouth, and I struggled to swallow. Could we be eating lunch with child murderers?
 

She kept her tone neutral. “What do you do on those nights when you transform?”

“We run, howl at the moon. You know, wolf stuff.”

“Do you hunt? Joanie said she saw your pack.”

“Sometimes. It’s harder than you’d think. There’s a certain amount of learning that goes into it. We didn’t have wolf parents to teach us.”

“Do you remember what you’ve caught the next day?”

Leo put his sandwich back on his plate and fixed Lonna with a cold, dark stare. “Why don’t we cut the crap, Ms. Marconi? What, exactly, are you trying to ask? Are you implying we took the children?”

She met his glare with her own. “My job is to find out what happened to them. I have to explore every avenue of possibility.”

“Need I remind you my own nephew is one of those children who is now missing? I can assure you, whatever my frame of mind, I wouldn’t be able to harm him.” He threw his napkin on the table and stalked to the porch. Ron followed him. I saw Leo had eaten all the meat from out of the middle of the sandwich.

Gabriel came in from the kitchen and picked up the plates. “I guess they won’t be having coffee?”

“Probably not. Thank you, Gabriel.”

“We didn’t even get to ask him about Kyra.” Lonna picked her sandwich up and ate with dainty bites.

“I think you got him wound up enough.” I kept my voice low, unsure of how sharp their hearing would be.

“So what did you think about Louise’s car?”

“It looked pretty banged up. Do you think Ricky will call you after the police have been there?”

She smiled, and I envied the confidence she had in her power over men. “I believe he will.”

I sat in the office and looked at the medical charts again. There was something in there; I knew it in my gut, but what? I opened the laptop, got back into the database, and entered data until it swam in front of my stinging eyes. Still, I felt I was so close I couldn’t just give up. I decided to curl up in a chair and rest for a few moments.

I closed my eyes on the office and opened them to a clearing in the woods, each tree trunk, branch and leaf illuminated with the silvery-gray light of the moon. My breath came in ragged gasps—
it's after me!
I heard it moving in the brush to my left, so I gulped air as quietly as I could and assessed my escape paths. My bare feet crushed the pine needles, which released a sharp, musky scent. Careful not to prick myself, I crept to the other end of the clearing. I looked at the trees to see if I could climb to safety, but part of my mind knew that wasn’t an option—my pursuer would follow me. So I continued to crawl inch by inch through the undergrowth, careful not to make a sound. The dirt caked my hands, the rocks scraped my knees, but I crept on for what seemed like hours, toward what I felt would be safety.