The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (16 page)

"Crawp."
Lucy chewed.

"Bag!"
Xochitl yelled at Lucy who was about to throw her nugget carton in the back
seat. "This isn't your pinche pigsty of a dog carro." She pointed to
the fast food bag on the floor.

"Okay,
jeez." Lucy dumped her trash, dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out
her cell phone, which was simultaneously ringing and vibrating.

"It's
Imogen again," Lucy groaned.

"Answer
it. She's just going to keep calling...Ooo, we're moving." Xochitl stuck El
Gallo's nose between two cars and tried to merge into the next lane over. "I'm
bigger than you, pendejo. Let me in." From the side-view mirror, she could
see the car behind them giving El Gallo and the trailer a wide berth.

"I'm
gonna turn off the ringer." Lucy fumbled with the buttons on the phone. "There,
that'll shut her up," she said with an ugly tone.

"Hello?
Lucy is that you? Am I on speaker?" Imogen sounded cheerful.

"What?
That's not possible." Lucy looked at the phone as if it had bitten her.

Xochitl
laughed. "Hi, Imogen. Lucy has been so eager to talk to you."

Lucy
pinched the middle of Xochitl's arm, just above the triceps, where the nerves
were sensitive.

"Hey,
hey. Driving!" Xochitl scolded, rubbing her arm. "You and your pinche
bad temper!"

"You
should talk," Lucy grumbled.

"Is
she acting out again?" Imogen inquired as if discussing a rambunctious
six-year-old.

"She
pinched me with those long witchy fingers," Xochitl moaned for maximum
sympathy.

"Could
be a cry for help. Maybe you are not giving her enough physical attention."
Xochitl and Lucy made gagging sounds, while Imogen rustled papers and clacked
on her keyboard. "It says in her files she is very closed off. Doesn't
like to be touched. It really could be that violence is the only way she can
establish a connection." Imogen finished, but echoed herself as she was
clearly taking notes on the phone call. "Establishing physical connection
through violence."

Xochitl
shuddered and mimicked Imogen's cadence, "She's sooo inappropriate. No
social skills."

"Am
I gonna have to throw this phone away too?" Lucy threatened.

"Oh,
please do." Xochitl folded her hands together as if praying.

"No,
come on. It took me days to track you down after you ditched the last burner
phone. It's costly, both time and money wasted." Imogen's pitch rose to a
whine. "Don't throw out the phone. I'll stop analyzing your special
relationship."

Stopped
again, Lucy fidgeted in her seat. Xochi found her friend's futile attempts to
contain her anger extremely amusing. Lucy's shrink could wind her up so tight
that her face would turn beet red and her jaw would clamp shut like a vice.

Looks like tonight is one of those times.

Xochitl
snickered.

"So
what's up Imogen?" Lucy rolled her eyes and looked like she hoped the
conversation would be over soon.

"So
how are you feeling?" Imogen asked.

"Fine,"
Lucy said, not elaborating.

"Don't
you hate it when she does that?" Xochitl smiled. Lucy smacked her in the
arm. "Owwah."

Uncharacteristically,
Imogen said nothing for a few moments. Xochitl looked over to Lucy —
clearly irritated and rubbing her eyes.

"Is
she still there?" Xochitl whispered to Lucy. Not wanting the entertainment
to end, Xochi yelled over to the phone. "You still there, Imogen?"

"Any?"
Imogen seemed to be waiting for Lucy to volunteer information, then sighed and
gave up.

"Lupe
would like to meet her Aunt Lucy," Imogen stated outright.

"You
named the Werebaby Lupe?" Lucy asked.

Xochitl's
foot slipped off the break pedal. "Werebaby!" El Gallo lurched
forward, nearly rear-ending the car in front of them.
"
You have a Werebaby!" She jammed on
the breaks.

So not funny!

"¡Hijo
de puta!" She pointed at the phone. "¡Te patina el coco!"

"Lupe's
not much of a baby anymore," Imogen continued, oblivious to Xochitl's
outburst.

"¡Es
muy estúpida!" Xochitl ranted on.

"You
should see Lupe. She's beautiful. I think I'll be sending her to school in the
fall." Imogen sounded like any mom discussing her child's entrance into
the school system.

"¡Ay
carajo!" Xochi threw up her arms. "¡Se acabó!"

"You
can't—" Lucy swatted at Xochitl.

"Whatever,
I'm done."
Xochitl turned her
attention back to the road though they were going nowhere. She tried to tune
out Imogen — an impossible feat.

"You're
right. Home schooling is a better way to go." Imogen sounded deep in
thought. "I was wondering if the two of you could swing by my place..."

Xochitl
shifted in her seat.

"Switch
with me," she said. "My back."

"Right
now?" Lucy mouthed.

"Yes,
while we're stopped." Xochitl put the car in park. "I can't take this
anymore."

"Hold
on Imogen." Lucy shot Xochitl an annoyed look.

"Everything
okay?" Imogen asked in a sickly sweet voice that made Xochitl want to gag.

"Yeah...Just..."
Lucy grunted and scooted under Xochi, as Xochi raised herself up and shimmied
over Lucy to the passenger side. "Hold...on...Ow."

"Okay,
because I have to do your quarterly report, and I can't really leave Lupe
alone," Imogen continued — not holding on. "I can't really get
any babysitters for her, but doggy day care doesn't really sound right either.
I'm in a quandary. You could really help out here, Lucy."

Objecting,
Lucy shook her head as if she were trying to get water out of her ears. Xochitl
fervently agreed.

"No
way. Just fill out the damn report and mail it to the court," Lucy said,
stepped on the brake and put the car in drive.

Traffic
started to clear, and El Gallo slowly rolled forward. They inched by the cause
of their thirty-minute delay — the remnants of a small hybrid, its driver
side completely smashed in. It looked to have been slammed into the median by
an SUV.

Xochitl
crossed herself in silent prayer.

"That
would be unethical," Imogen shrilled, sounding genuinely shocked and
bringing Xochitl's attention back to the absurd conversation.

"Says
the woman who kidnapped a newborn from a crime scene," Lucy snapped. "I'm
hanging up." Lucy pounded her phone against the dash and threw the broken
pieces out the window.

"Good, now I can get you a better
phone," Xochi said evenly as El Gallo crawled along the Harbor Freeway.

41 MILES

3 HOURS 15
MINUTES

"How
is this happening?" Lucy slammed down on the horn. "We're only five
miles away."

"Welcome
to hell, Lucy Lowell." Xochitl groaned, staring straight ahead at the
never-ending trail of red taillights.

The
emergency responders had cleared the accident twenty minutes ago, but it did
nothing for the backup of cars all headed in the same direction.

This is hell. Can't get worse than this.

"What
the?" Xochitl felt her cell buzz in her pocket and pulled it out, checking
the Caller ID. "Great." She pressed the speaker icon on her phone and
moved it closer to Lucy.

"What?"
Lucy asked.

"It's
for you." Xochitl showed Lucy the name on the screen —
Scary
Bitch
.

"Hanna?"
Lucy looked perplexed.

"What
the hell happened to your phone?" Hanna's voice sounded tinny over the
speaker. "I've been calling you for twenty minutes."

"Nah.
You only tossed your phone fifteen minutes ago," Xochi quipped, displeased
that Hanna had called her phone to reach Lucy.

"You
dumped your phone?" Hanna bellowed. "Again!"

"Couldn't
be helped." Lucy grabbed the cell phone from Xochitl, staring daggers at
her. "What'd you find out, Hanna?"

"That's
what you get for giving her my number. Gimme that." Xochitl grabbed the
phone back. "We can't get pulled over." She held the phone near Lucy
so she could hear.

"Are
you two finished?" Hanna was clearly still upset the Travis job was pro
bono.

Xochitl
didn't care.

"Sorry,
Hanna." Lucy sighed. "It's been a long trip."

"You
haven't gotten to San Pedro yet?" Hanna sounded exasperated.

"What's
she got to be so pissed about?" Xochitl said, knowing Hanna could hear
her. "We're the ones stuck in this shit."

"No."
Lucy glared at Xochitl. "Hanna, I don't want to talk about it."

"Neither
do I." Xochitl huffed.

"Fine."
Hanna was curt as she changed the subject. "Well, I haven't found any
cases of diseased Hounds or Ferals being reported. Are you sure it was mange?"

"Yes,
mange. I saw it all the time working for the ACTF." Lucy didn't elaborate.

This
time, Xochitl didn't blame her. The thought of oozing pustules and the horrible
stench in the cave made Xochi's skin crawl, and she began scratching at her
neck again.

"Marley
had all the classic symptoms," Lucy continued. "Patchy fur,
crusted-over wounds, sores, scabbing. Clumps of skin were sloughing off when
she wasn't even moving."

"Guess
that would be the mites," Hanna pondered out loud.

"The
what!" Xochitl sat up straight.

"Parasitic
mites cause mange," Lucy explained.

"Arrrrrrgh!"
Xochitl's free hand flew to the rearview mirror, turning it toward her. She
stared at the red rash on her neck, which seemed to be spreading. "Did I
get mange? I itch. Make it stop!"

"People
don't get mange." Lucy gently pulled Xochitl back from the mirror.

Xochi's
practical side was aware Lucy was trying to keep her from panicking, but it was
too late. She was freaked.

"There
have been cases—" Hanna started.

"Psht!"
Lucy snapped. "Not helping!"

"No,
let her talk," Xochitl demanded, scrubbing her nails through her scalp. "I
DON'T WANT MANGE!"

"You
got poison oak. That's why you are itching. We'll pick up some calamine lotion
later." Lucy waved her hand, dismissing Xochitl's freak-out. "People
don't get mange."

"But
this Hound did." Hanna turned the conversation back to Marley.

"She
was a Feral. And she was living like a stray in the canyon," Lucy threw
in, rubbing at her eye with the palm of her hand.

Xochitl
could tell Lucy still saw Marley lying on the cave floor — dying — and
wanted to scream as much as Xochi did. They knew putting Marley out of her
misery was the right thing to do, though the thought didn't make it hurt any
less. Xochi hoped Travis would never know what had happened to the girl he
loved.

Wishful
thinking, Xoch.

"Well,
that might be a clue." Hanna made a searching "Hmmmm" sound, and
Lucy looked intrigued.

"Lucy,
do you remember your mama helping those research scientists from Davis?"
Hanna asked.

As
Xochitl listened to their conversation, the enormous soda she'd slurped down
took its vengeance. She was overcome with the sudden urge to use the bathroom.

"My
mama was helping out two PhD candidates with a coyote study some years back.
She cleared the road for them with the town council," Lucy explained to
Xochitl.

"Oh,"
Xochitl replied and whispered, "I have to pee."

"Hold
it." Lucy turned her attention back to Hanna.

"Your
mama did more than that," Hanna continued. "She really got involved
with that study. Anyway, while they were tracking the coyotes' movement
patterns throughout the season, they noticed that a number of the healthy
coyotes suddenly came down with a deadly mange."

"Really?"
Lucy frowned. Xochitl was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Your
mama said the researchers had a theory that rat poison was causing the problem.
The coyotes were being poisoned by eating rodents that had been poisoned."

"Wouldn't
rat poison just poison the coyotes outright?" Xochitl questioned, trying
to keep her attention on the conversation and not on her bladder — a task
she was failing. Xochi's leg bounced involuntarily. "I have to pee,"
she reiterated quietly.

"Wait,"
Lucy hissed through gritted teeth.

Xochitl
groaned and waved her hand in a "let's get on with it" motion.

"It
was more complicated than that." Hanna seemed to search her memory,
apparently unaware or uncaring of Xochitl's need to wrap up the conversation. "I
don't quite remember what your mama said, Lucy. Something about prolonged
secondary exposure. The rat poison would get into the coyotes' digestive system
and make them unable to fight common diseases such as mange."