The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (4 page)

She heard a loud commotion outside and
craned her neck to look at the frosted glass window. A male silhouette pointed
a finger in the chest of another silhouette and shouted an obvious dressing
down. She couldn't make out what was being said but got the impression things
hadn't gone as planned.

No shit.

All at once, the cops in her cantina
became animated, taking up positions around the bar, guns drawn.

They probably think they're next.

Outside, one last command was given, and
the dejected subordinate was sent off. The man turned toward the door, stopping
briefly before pushing it open.

Xochitl grunted, feeling the release of
pressure from the middle of her back. A sudden rush of air filled her lungs,
and she realized the officer who had his knee dug into her spine had stood up.
She felt lightheaded as a dull ache formed at the spot.

That's gonna bruise.

All the cops, save Lowell and the
unconscious Gabe Torres, now stood at attention. Only Xochi watched as a lean
African-American man, dressed in blues, bars on his lapel and cap on his head,
entered.

Must
be the captain.

Xochi thought he looked to be in his mid
to late fifties. As he approached the other officers, she could tell, even from
where she lay, he was on the tall side.

The captain stood in the middle of the
cantina, staring at the spectacle of officers Lowell and Torres.

"Lowell, report," he said.

It was eerily quiet while everyone
anxiously waited for Lowell to respond, but she never took her eyes off Torres.
The SWAT team eyed one another and shifted uncomfortably as the captain grew
more irritated with every passing minute. Breaking ranks, a boyish-looking
officer with doe eyes holstered his sidearm and double-timed it to his captain.

"Captain Burch, sir. The bar is
secure. Several members of East Los Locos are in custody," the officer
said. "The ambulance has been called."

"And what about that, Williams?"
Captain Burch turned Williams toward Lowell and Torres, still huddled on the
floor.

Officer Williams seemed to be at a loss
for words. Xochitl felt sorry for him. She didn't envy his position.

What can you say?

"Well, sir...I can't be sure, but I
think Officer Torres entered the bar from the back and was hit by gunfire. So,
umm...when he was hit...well, umm..." Officer Williams stuttered.

"Spit it out, Williams!"

"Well...he turned into a..."

"Into a what!"

"I think it was a werewolf?"
Williams cringed at the last word. Xochitl thought he might faint from the
effort.

"A what!" Burch's eyes looked
as if they were about to pop out of his skull.

"A werewolf," Williams
whispered the words this time.

Xochitl, Williams and the entire SWAT
team held their breath, watching Burch in anticipation as he allowed the words
to sink in.

The captain's response shocked Xochitl.
Instead of the confused horror she felt, and supposed they all felt, Burch
turned toward her, stared directly at her, and burst out laughing. Burch was
laughing so hard Xochi could see tears forming in his eyes.

"First Parker, now Williams. What's
SWAT on? Can I have some?" Burch mocked the officers. "After tonight,
I'll need it."

Anger rose in Xochitl.

How dare this pendejo make fun of us!

"It's true!" The words blasted
from Xochi's mouth before she could stop herself. She struggled to stand, her
hands still tied behind her back. "We all saw it...Saw something."

Captain Burch stopped short and glared at
her. "What?"

With a last grunt, Xochitl got her feet
under her, pressed her back against the bottom of the bar and pushed herself
up.

"I said we all saw it. Officer
Gabe...I mean Torres. He became a monster...or something." Xochitl tried
to catch her breath. "He was tearing guys apart. Lowell got him to stop.
Then, he just went back to looking like that." She nodded toward Lowell
and Torres.

Captain Burch clasped his hands behind
him and approached her. Xochi took a defensive step back as Burch loomed over
her with a searing stare. The counter pressed painfully against her. The same
officers who had zip tied her hands converged on her. Xochitl felt like a caged
animal. With a subtle eye motion, Burch signaled to the officer nearest her,
and he yanked Xochi by the arm.

"¡Ay, pendejo! Get off me!"

Xochitl struggled to free herself from
the cop's grasp to get to Officer Lowell.

"Lowell!"

The second officer moved in and grabbed
her other arm, and together they dragged Xochi toward the door.

"Lowell!"

Desperate, Xochi jammed her body between
the door and its frame.

"LUCY!"

Xochi kicked, as the second officer tried
to grab her legs. But with her hands tied, she had little balance. The first
cop pulled her off her feet easily, allowing his colleague to seize them. She
was hanging between the two men when she heard Lowell.

"Wait. Let her go."

Exhausted and out of breath, Xochi
twisted her body in an attempt to see Officer Lucy Lowell. She had removed her
jacket and was placing it gently under her partner's head, before resting it on
the floor.

Lowell stood and faced Xochi's captors.
She stared them down. "I said, let...her...go."

Still hanging between the two men, Xochi
peered up at them. Confusion mixed with —
fear?
— crossed
their faces. The officers relented and set Xochi's feet on the ground.

"That's right, chota," Xochitl
mocked.

Lowell gingerly walked toward Captain
Burch. She was favoring her left leg, and she gasped when she put too much
weight on it.

"Captain. This is my CI, Xochitl
Magaña. This is her bar," Officer Lowell said. "Officer Torres has
sustained a bullet wound. We're waiting for EMTs to arrive. ACTF should secure
the dogs."

Captain Burch mulled over Lowell's
report. He leaned into her and whispered in her ear. Lowell nodded, turned and
slowly walked toward Xochitl.

"Why is everyone standing around,"
Burch yelled. "Do your jobs!"

The cantina was buzzing with activity
once more. Paramedics equipped with a gurney rushed in, nearly bowling Xochitl
over. Deciding it would be better to get out of the way, she waved Officer
Lowell over to the bar.

Lowell winced as she approached the counter.
She motioned for Xochi to turn around. Xochi was confused. Lowell rolled her
eyes and pulled out a pocketknife.

Oh.

Xochi turned around and held her arms out
as Officer Lowell swiftly cut her ties
.

"Thanks." Xochitl rubbed her
red wrists.

"Captain Burch wants you to give a
statement down at the station. I'll see someone gets you there." Officer
Lowell began walking toward the door.

Xochitl didn't move. "Wait, what
about Memo?"

"I'm not sure. Just a minute."
Lowell pulled her radio off her belt. "Anyone see Guillermo Morales,
a.k.a. El Gallo?"

"Tell them he went out the window in
the ladies room," Xochi said.

Lowell raised her hand to quiet Xochi and
spoke into her radio again. "A witness saw him escaping out the ladies
room window of
Xochitl's Cantina
.
"

Xochitl waited anxiously for someone to
respond. There was static and then a male voice.

"No. Morales escaped. We have an APB
out on him."

"What!" Xochitl couldn't
contain herself. She turned to the police officers who had taken over her bar. "How
could you pendejos miss him! He went out the back! You were there! God damn it!"

From across the room Captain Burch
yelled, "Officer Lowell, take your CI outside. Now!"

Lowell pulled Xochitl toward the door.

Xochi reared on her. "You said you'd
get him. You said we'd be safe."

Xochi could see the shock and hurt on
Lowell's face. She knew the cop had been through the wringer tonight. But she
couldn't bring herself to care. Not now. Not while Memo was still out there.

Oh, God. Miguel.

Xochitl struggled to walk. The thought of
her little brother in danger was enough to bring her to her knees. But Officer
Lowell had a tight grip on her and kept her from falling.

Lowell stopped, transfixed on Officer
Torres who was strapped to a gurney, being wheeled out by the paramedics.
Without another word, Xochitl and Lucy slowly followed behind her wounded
partner into the early morning darkness.

Chapter 3

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"Hanna's
almost done reading me the riot act," Lucy said, taking her mouth away
from her cell phone. Xochitl turned left onto Doheny Drive and made the
yackety-yack hand gesture.

"She's
looking up the declawing doctor."
Lucy adjusted
the sun visor.

"¡Órale!"
Xochitl shouted and pointed to a quaint faux-French coffee house nestled beside
an upscale day spa. "They have the best vanilla lattes!" Xochitl
pulled over and jumped out of the car, leaving Lucy to wrap up her call.

"The
dogs miss you." Hanna's soft words drifted into Lucy's ear like spoken in
a dream. Lucy gazed at the tall cypress across the street. A large crow hopped
from treetop to treetop.

"It's
time," Hanna continued when Lucy didn't respond. "We'll talk later."
Hanna hung up before Lucy could get out the "yes" caught in her
throat.

Feeling
a burst of joy, Lucy scooted over and settled behind the wheel of the orange
Toronado.

This
is gonna be a great day. Everything is gonna be all right.

"Gotta
keep up appearances for the folks," she said when Xochitl returned with
two large coffees and a white paper bag. Xochi jangled the rooster key chain,
clearly reluctant to hand it over.

"The
Werewolf Whisperer has to be in the driver's seat." Lucy shrugged as if to
say "it's beyond my control."

"What's
in the bag?" Lucy asked, accepting the delicious smelling vanilla latte
gratefully.

"Croissants,"
Xochitl taunted. "But you can't drive and eat croissants at the same time."
Xochi mimicked Lucy's "it's beyond my control" shrug.

"Just
to be clear, chica," Xochitl handed over the keys but kept the croissant
bag out of Lucy's reach, "deal's only good 'til Greystone." Xochi
fished only one croissant from the bag. "Don't get too comfortable."

"They
smell like warm butter," Lucy said, her mouth watering.

"Don't
they though," Xochitl replied and took a careful bite.

"You're
just afraid El Gallo will like me better," Lucy said and adjusted the
rearview mirror just to be annoying.

"
Ni lo
pienses
,"
Xochitl said, patting the dash lovingly. "When pigs fly, gringa."

Lucy
pulled into traffic behind a white Jaguar.

"So,
Hanna says the declawing thing is actually old news," Lucy said while
Xochitl fastened her seat belt in a hurry. "West Hollywood has had a ban
on declawing cats since way back in 2003." Lucy took a sip of her coffee
and rode up behind the Jag, which was climbing up the hill so slowly she had to
wonder if the octogenarian driving the car was in fact pedaling.

"Hey,
following distance!" Xochitl remarked. "But wasn't there some bill
that prohibits local government from interfering with veterinarians? We studied
that in my pre-law class." Xochitl took a paper napkin from her vest
pocket.

"Right,"
Lucy agreed. "So then it turns out the declawing doctor was a vet, not a
people doctor." Lucy swiftly pulled around the Jag and scooted into the
left turn lane at Sunset Boulevard. An annoyed honk sounded from the Jag.

"Hanna
said both PETA and the ACLU got on the doc when he opened his clinic
specializing in 'Hound Accommodations.'" Lucy drained her coffee. "Somebody
firebombed the clinic Halloween night. End of story."

Xochitl
whistled between her teeth. "Guess Jimmy's dad isn't up on the latest
developments."

"Hanna
said to let the Stantons cool off for a few days. She'll call next week and
offer long-term boarding for Jimmy."

"By
the way, Hanna says 'hi!'" Lucy said innocently as they waited at the long
light.

"Doubt
it," Xochitl said and checked the time. "Sometimes I think Hanna
forgets I exist."

"Doesn't
forget to pay you." Lucy winked.

The
light changed, and Lucy instantly blew past the corner liquor store. "So,
where's my croissant?"

"I
always liked that place." Xochitl pointed at a pizza parlor with a large
open front and sidewalk seating.

"Pizza
would be great right now." Lucy salivated. "So, where's that
croissant."

"No
croissant. Driving, 'member?" Xochitl looked wistfully at the pizza
parlor. "We'd get the best 2:00 A.M. pizza over there after hitting the
Sunset clubs."

"2:00
A.M. pizza?" Lucy smirked. "I thought you were this serious
goody-goody with your fancy scholarship in your fancy UCLA days. You partied on
Sunset?"

"Well,
you can't study all the damn time when the Sunset Strip is your backyard."
Xochitl grimaced. "Second quarter was crazy fun. So, I repeated a class or
two," she said with no trace of regret. "I made the Dean's List my
third quarter. And then, well, you know the rest. Dad got sick. Adiós La Uni. Hola
cantina."

Lucy
turned onto Doheny Road, passing the Hamburger Hamlet and Sierra Towers before
winding up Loma Vista Drive. "Sorry you didn't get a chance to finish,"
she said to her friend. Xochitl nodded. "Shit happens," they said in
unison and started laughing.

Greystone
Mansion sat nestled in the verdant hills above Sunset Boulevard, blocked from sight
by gated estates and high stone walls that reminded Lucy uncomfortably of
Folsom State Prison.

From
Greystone Chapel in Folsom Prison to Greystone Mansion in Beverly Hills in less
than two years. I'm movin' on up.

Steering
El Gallo up the long, curving driveway, Lucy couldn't look on the stunning
estate without being impressed by its beauty and grandeur. The layout of the
big square main building included several wings, many of which were topped by
orange brick chimneys. The bulk of the manor seemed to have a limestone façade,
with some of the grey stone that gave the estate its name making up the walls
and many levels of the gardens.

Lucy
remembered glancing at the brochure sent by the Beverly Hills Chamber of
Commerce when they booked "The Werewolf Whisperer" for their annual
Family
and Wellbeing Expo
.

"What
does it say?" she asked Xochitl who had her nose buried in the booklet.

"Just
a sec." Xochitl stopped flipping through the pages and stared out at the
estate sprawling before them. "Sorry, I'm just amazed. I went to La Uni
right up the street. Never knew this was here." She shuffled back to the
beginning of the book.

"Estate
belonged to Edward Doheny, a 19th century oil man. Bad things happened. His son
was murdered on the property." Xochitl looked over at Lucy and made a
face.

"Crap.
That sucks." Lucy shook her head with dismay. "Bad things come
knocking whether you live in a castle or a shack."

"Anyway..."
Xochi continued. "Tudor revival...eighteen acres...
stables. You'll like this.
Kennels...tennis court, bowling alley, gatehouse, pavilion, greenhouse, lake,
waterfalls. Blah, blah, blah. Gorgeous." Xochitl shut the brochure. "What
more do you need to know?"

Lucy smiled at Xochitl's exaggerated brusqueness. She could tell
the opulent charm of Greystone was not lost on Xochitl; she just refused to
make a big deal about it.

Lucy pulled up to the valet stand at the front of the large
upper parking lot.

"Hi, we're here for the event. Lucy Lowell and Xochitl
Magaña." She smiled broadly. "I have to keep my keys, boss."

The young valet's eyes got a little bigger at that request. He
seemed to weigh his options, and then chose to go with the authoritative and
unyielding approach.

"I'm sorry, ladies. We park all the cars today. Greystone
Mansion requires—" He would have gone on if Xochitl hadn't leaned
over from the passenger seat and looked right into his eyes.

"This, my young friend, is not a car. This is a 1966 Olds
Toronado in mint condition. The original fly ass ride. His name is El Gallo."
She reached into her vest pocket and pulled out a business card. "And this
lady is Lucy Lowell, The Werewolf Whisperer." Xochitl settled into her
seat again as if there was nothing else to say on the subject.

The valet's bravado turned to confusion. He looked at the
business card.

"I can't let you have the keys, boss," Lucy said
again, shrugging as if the decision was out of her hands, which it sort of was.

El Gallo was loaded down with a number of special "toys"
— as Xochitl liked to call their collection of knives and firearms.
Giving the keys to a stranger was out of the question.

"Call Mr. Soroush from the Chamber if you have any
questions," Lucy suggested. "In the meantime, why don't I just park
it somewhere. The line behind us must be getting long. This isn't worth holding
anyone up." She indicated to the two identical Mercedes SUVs that had
pulled up behind her during their last few sentences. "You know how people
around here can be."

Looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, the valet made a
decisive arm gesture, directing Lucy to pull El Gallo to the edge of the lot.

"Good boy," Xochitl mumbled.

Lucy backed El Gallo into the parking spot a little more rapidly
than Xochitl would have liked, judging by the small squeak she let out when the
back tires bumped against the curb.

"Easier to get out later." Lucy tried to appease her
and grabbed the box of dog toys and the package of blue
Werewolf Whisperer
slip leads from the backseat. Xochitl flipped
Lucy the bird.

Elaborately
fabricated pavilion booths lined the area, creating a miniature maze of
temporary Hound-centric shops. Hound treats, Hound leashes, Hound clothing,
Hound beds, Hound food, Hound toys; there was no end to the creativity of the
offerings, though Lucy suspected many of the articles "specifically
designed" for Hounds were in fact repurposed dog items.

Mr. Soroush, head of the Beverly Hills Chamber of Commerce, met
them at the massive, double-tiered fountain set toward the back of the formal
garden. Lucy had never seen such a perfectly manicured lawn — lush,
greener than green and wreathed by a myriad of white roses on a second tier
slate walkway just a step up from the grass.
The cascading fountain
looked like something from Greek mythology.

Oh, pretty.

Mr. Soroush smiled beatifically and greeted Lucy and Xochitl as
if he'd known them for years. A photographer jumped out from behind a group of
volunteers and snapped pictures of Soroush and Lucy shaking hands. Clearly
photo-ready, Soroush's grey curls had been brushed back into a kind of helmet.
Standing close, Lucy even detected a touch of powder on the man's face. Lucy
wondered if her own stick-straight copper streaked hair would look flat in the
pictures. She'd grown it out to her shoulders but hadn't had it shaped since
the prison barber had buzzed it.

"Can that fountain be turned off?" Xochitl asked after
listening to Soroush drone on about his involvement in the charitable Beverly
Hills Chamber Expo. "People should be able to hear Lucy during the
presentation."

Mr. Soroush was obviously used to people being enchanted by a
visit to Greystone and unquestionably believed himself to be charming and
attractive to the ladies, judging by his meticulous grooming and expensive
looking suit. Xochitl's matter-of-fact request — while perfectly
reasonable — appeared to cause him some discomfort.

"We can turn the fountain off when you start your class."
He forced a smile.

"Great, thanks." Xochitl nodded and then continued in
one breath. "But before we start, you know we only take cash." She
looked at the man calmly. "Up front."

Lucy cocked her head at the spontaneous change to their payment
policy, but remembering how close she'd been to leaving the Stantons without
collecting payment, couldn't argue.

"Cash, of course...I just need to..." Annoyed, Mr. Soroush
struggled with his cell phone. "My assistant Nicolette will be with you in
a second." Soroush waved his arms as if performing semaphore and caught
the attention of a young woman directing volunteers to the courtyard. She
carefully made her way down the stone stairs and crossed the lawn with measured
steps.

The thin woman looked very young despite her constricting pencil
skirt and sky high
Louboutins,
which Lucy recognized by their red soles.

"Hey
look, Xochitl. Louboutins," Lucy said, eager to prove that she had in fact
retained Xochitl's fashion 411.

"Good
girl," Xochi replied. "You're not a total lost cause."

Mr. Soroush's assistant's dark hair was piled on her head in a
gravity-defying chignon, and the beads of her tailored jacket sparkled in the
sun. She moved with confidence and grace, swooping next to Mr. Soroush as if
she were the boss instead of the assistant.