Indigo Moon (26 page)

Isabelle steeled herself and reentered the room. She went straight to the far corner where a dresser lay overturned and peeled back the carpet, pulling out a plastic folder. She held it up for the others to see. “Passport, driver’s license, U.S. work permit, medical papers, bank book. I’ve taken to tucking these away safely. You’ve no idea how helpless you are without them.” Among the papers was a badly burned book, but she didn’t mention that.

“Yeah. I’d feel naked. Now come on!” Godfrey shooed them out the door and locked it behind them with a satisfying click.

“What about my landlord? He’ll go mad. I’ll never be able to rent again.”

“Marie will deal with it.” Godfrey led them along the hallway toward the wide glass doors that led to the street. With relief, they walked out into the daylight, a welcome respite from the malevolence and gloom of the trashed apartment.

“Thank God to be out of there,” Hope muttered.

“Oh. That’s her right there, Officer,” a voice said off to the left.

Isabelle slipped her plastic wallet into Hope’s hands.

“Excuse me. Are you Isabelle Monk?” A police officer approached.

Isabelle stepped forward. “Yes?”

“I’ll need you to accompany me to the station, Mrs. Monk,” he said politely.

“Is it to do with Barry?”

“You know about that.” He watched her every move with shrewd eyes.

Isabelle nodded at Godfrey and Hope standing behind her, totally helpless.

“It’s the talk of the neighborhood.” She moved toward him. This was inevitable, she acknowledged. It had to be dealt with. It was crazy to think she could just cut and run. Nothing would ever be that easy again. Those days were gone forever. The real issue here was to keep the police out of her apartment if possible.

She glanced over her shoulder at Godfrey and Hope. “Thanks for your help. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

And with that she slid into the police car, leaving them both speechless on the sidewalk.

“I can’t believe we lost her.” Godfrey was aghast.

“She’s a feral. If she freaks at a police station it will be national news. It will be the end of the world…” Hope watched the police car pull away.

“Now who works for
American Theater Magazine
?”

“Do we know any wolven lawyers? What are we going to tell Claude? What are we going to tell Marie?”

“The truth. There are two ferals running loose in Portland. One is a gut-spilling murderer, and the other you invited for tea. Of course, we don’t know which is which, but for the moment we’re backing Tadpole’s hunch.”

“Don’t you blame this on me. If you hadn’t left the goddamn door open in the first—” Hope bit her tongue, realizing she was rising to the bait. “At least my fingerprints aren’t all over her apartment.”

“Oh my God! Can we go back and wipe them?”

“She’s back,” Hope said.

“Huh?”

“She’s back.”

They’d been so busy bickering they hadn’t noticed the squad car stop down the street, then quickly reverse back to the apartment steps.

“They’re coming for me.” Godfrey’s fingers bit into Hope’s arm.

Isabelle sat in the back talking earnestly to the two police officers before one of them got out and helped her exit the vehicle. She slowly mounted the steps toward them at the officer’s side. He seemed intent on handing her over safely.

“Your friend seems a little faint,” he said.

Hope stepped forward and took Isabelle’s arm. “Isabelle?”

“Do you want us to go down to the station with her?” Godfrey asked, audibly swallowing a lump in his throat.

The officer shook his head.

“We’re looking for a wild animal. Big cat or something. Probably from a private zoo.”

“Oh, dear.” Godfrey tried to look shocked.

“Barry’s family have identified his bod—him. The police don’t need me for the moment,” Isabelle said. “Can we go now? I don’t want to stand out here.” A small crowd had gathered near the steps.

“Of course.” Hope steered her toward their car, leaving Godfrey to give the officer the new contact details. “We’ll go back to my house.”

“I thought we’d lost you for an awful moment. What did they ask?” Godfrey put the Lexus in gear and pulled out onto Colt. Isabelle sat huddled in a corner of the backseat. She looked sickly. “Are you all right? You look very pale.”

She nodded and stared out the window.

“They wanted to know where I was last night. I said I was at home and a neighbor could probably verify it. And then they started to ask about my relationship with Barry. But they already knew all that. I guess his parents filled them in. Then the call came over the radio that it was an animal attack. People have been calling in sightings all over the city. It’s mass hysteria out there. They couldn’t wait to dump me and go shoot a lion.” She sank back into her seat exhausted. Sweat shone on her brow.

“We can’t sit and wait for Claude, not with this other feral on the loose. It’s dangerous and seems to be homing in on Isabelle,” Hope said. She had some ideas of her own, but Isabelle didn’t look capable of sustaining a hard conversation at the moment. Hope decided to quiz her later.

“We need to grab Taddy and get the hell out of here. Perhaps we can arrange to meet Claude along the way?” she asked Godfrey. “Isabelle can go on to Little Dip with him, and I’ll come back and stay with you until Jolie comes home. She’ll know what to do.”

“Now, that’s a good plan. In fact, it sounds a lot like
my
plan.” He pulled up in front of Hope’s house. “Go get Taddy. I’m going to call Claude on his cell and organize the exchange. Where will we meet? That service station about halfway?”

“Perfect.” Hope quickly collected Tadpole. He scrabbled into the back and made a big fuss of seeing Isabelle again.

“Okay, lover boy.” Hope slid in beside Godfrey. “Settle down. We’re off on a big adventure.”

“You talking to me or the dog?” Godfrey asked.

“Like you even have to ask. What did Claude say?”

“Don’t take the interstate. If a feral is this brazen, it’s not alone, and it may be watching the interstate service stations. He suggested 26 to Prineville. He’ll come down 395 and meet us somewhere near Mitchell.”

“That will take hours!” Hope said.

“Five hours, thereabouts. Eight in total, if we were going all the way to Little Dip. But we’ll turn around once we meet up with Claude.”

“Okay. Claude knows his ferals better than we do. Long way around it is.” Hope nodded, content with the plan of action.

*

Traffic was light and they exited Portland heading south through Sandy and Rhododendron into the Mt. Hood corridor road. The lull between the winter holiday period and spring break meant the park was empty of the usual tourist hordes, and often they had entire stretches of road all to themselves. They drove for four hours solid in an attempt to gain distance from the horrifying events in Oakes Bottom.

“Is she all right?” Godfrey whispered, nodding to where Isabelle sat quietly in the backseat, her face flushed and eyes overbright.

“I don’t know. She’s had a terrible shock.”

“She’s shaking. I can see her in the mirror. We need to stop soon. Get some food? Stretch our legs.”

Hope twisted in her seat. Isabelle was shivering all over. Two bright spots colored her cheeks, a thin sheen of sweat beaded her upper lip. Tadpole lay across her lap, his head resting on her forearm. He flicked Hope a morose look.

“Honey,” Hope said, “are you cold? Can I get you a blanket?”

Isabelle shook her head. “I think I’ve got motion sickness.”

“I think it’s a little more than that. Godfrey’s going to find somewhere to stop and grab a bite to eat. Maybe you just need some food?”

Isabelle nodded. “I’m famished.”

The light was leaving the afternoon sky. Winter wasn’t ready to surrender the season, and twilight still came early. The weak light filtered through a jumble of darkening storm clouds and treetops whipped in the heightening wind.

“It’s getting stormy.” Godfrey squinted at the sky. “Rain’s coming.”

Up ahead the red and blue lights of a service station winked in the lowering gloom.

“Tack-a-rama, but it’ll do,” Godfrey said, pulling up before the Lucky Seven diner as heavy raindrops started to splatter the windshield. “Considering we haven’t eaten since breakfast, it looks like the Ritz.”

The Lucky Seven was just as garish on the inside, but its bare strip lights and loud music provided security. Hope hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until they took a seat near the door. She cricked her neck and stretched her back before reaching for the menu. Their booth was retro fifties with plastic ketchup bottles and a paper tablecloth dotted with the standard western motifs of horses, cowboys, and teepees. It was all so tackily familiar, a million miles away from werewolves and gory mutilations. Would wolven even frequent a bright place like this? If she hadn’t taken a werewolf lover, Hope would never have believed in the supernatural beasties. Her thoughts returned to Isabelle, sitting opposite. She had been attacked and survived, but barely, from the ghastly look of her. Isabelle had not taken a wolven lover; she had simply been taken. Stolen away like a shiny trinket. They had to have a talk about Ren. Was she the murderous feral? Was she tracking down her runaway mate? Knowing what fierce possessiveness Jolie was capable of, Hope would bet money Ren was hot on Isabelle’s trail, itching for retribution. The thought chilled her.

“If this place did martinis, I’d have a bucketload,” she murmured scanning the menu. “Tuna for me. Godfrey?”

He didn’t even look over, intent on three young men who’d just entered. They were dressed in work shirts and jeans, and rainwater dripped from them.

“Same as you,” he muttered.

“And I know what you need.” Hope turned to Isabelle. “The same thing Jolie and Andre order when we’re on the road. A big blue steak. Don’t worry. I’ll eat the fries.”

The waitress arrived and Hope fussed over their order.

“What are you looking at?” she asked Godfrey once the server had gone.

“Those guys over there. They’re staring at us.”

“Perhaps because you stared first?”

Godfrey shook his head. “I’ve been looking at them indirectly through the whiskey mirror on the back wall. They followed us in, and they’ve not ordered anything to eat or drink. In fact, the waitress is getting pissed with them.”

“What do you think?”

“They smell like wolf,” Isabelle spoke up. “But new. Newish. There’s no strong scent, so I’m guessing they’re not long changed. Two of them smell sickly.”

“I was worried they were feral.” Godfrey slid lower in his seat, a gloomy look on his face. “How do we work this?”

“Call Claude. Tell him where we are. We’ll sit here and wait it out until he arrives. They’ll hardly start something before all these witnesses,” Hope said. She glanced around and was relieved to see a small security camera above the bar. It was some measure of protection.

The waitress appeared and deposited their order.

“The weird thing is, though I can identify them by smell, you two know more about wolven behavior than I do,” Isabelle said, cutting open her steak.

“Only the snuggly sort,” Godfrey said. “When they creep into bed beside you and curl around you. Then you wake up an hour later dripping sweat like you sleep in a sauna.” He looked mournfully out the rain-lashed windows. “It’s been cold these last nights. I miss him. By the time he gets back I’ll probably be as dead as this dolphin-friendly bluefin. Which tastes surprisingly good, by the way.”

“Stop being so maudlin and call Claude. Let them see we have resources at hand,” Hope said. “Let’s relax and eat and show we’re not intimidated. It’s all in the psychology.”

“Ah yes. Psychology will save us. We can Jung-fu our way out,” Godfrey said, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “It’s cutting out while it’s ringing. He must be somewhere with bad reception.”

“Eat and we’ll try again later.”

“What’s it like? Having a wolven partner, I mean,” Isabelle asked, and then blushed furiously.

It was the opportunity Hope had been waiting for. “It’s intense. It’s a honeymoon period that never ends, but that doesn’t mean real life stops. We still have our arguments. We still go to work, earn money, eat, drink, rest, play…but the heightened emotional element, the time in our relationship when we first fell in love, that intensity never seems to fade.”

“Would either of you become wolven like Andre and Jolie? Would that double the emotion, make it stronger, almost unbearable, even?”

“I don’t know about both partners being wolven making the emotion stronger. What I feel is enough for me,” Godfrey said. “The reason I didn’t want to change is that I have a wonderful life already. I’ve found my soul mate, even if he is a werewolf. I love my job. I live in a fantastic city and have the best of friends around me.” He reached over and squeezed Hope’s hand. “All of my time and energy is used up with this life I’ve made. Weird as it seems, I don’t think I could fit a call-of-the-wild thing in. I’d be afraid it might take me over, and it took me a long enough to find myself as it is. I feel so lucky in my life. I’m satisfied. I’d be worried something as big as lycanthropy would fuck it all up. Andre has never pressed me, and I really, truly feel no inclination. Does that make sense?”