The Wolf's Daughter (The Tala Chronicles 1) (6 page)

A chest, mostly hidden
by a torn Asian screen depicting white cranes and blue-scaled fish with a few
foam-topped waves thrown in, grabbed her attention. When she looked behind the
screen, a pirate’s chest greeted her. It seemed promising. The latch opened
easily, but she hesitated a moment before lifting the top more than a crack. How
many more pictures of mutilated bodies could she stand? Finally, she opened it
all the way. To her surprise, it was empty. Another dead end.

Tala caught
sight of a small table with one drawer. A breading of dust couldn’t hide the beauty
of the intricate parquetry in rich browns and mother of pearl. She tried the
drawer—locked. Strangely, though, she couldn’t see any locking mechanism. Tala
ran her hands under the table and along the legs. Then she pushed at various
points under the table, and finally, a section of wood gave in to her fingertips.
When she tried the drawer again, it opened.

Inside was another
amulet like the one she wore and something looking like a diary. However, they
both sat in a small metal cage with a lock. The lock had the same likeness on
it  the pendant did—a violent-looking beast with fangs. With no key, though, how
would she open it?

She dialed
Vanessa’s phone. If anyone could pick this lock, she could. No diary her sister
ever had written in was immune to her prying.

Tala’s call
ended in disappointment when Vanessa’s chirpy recording came on. She left a
message for her to come over.

What next? It
seemed impossible to go through all the boxes and trunks. She hobbled over to a
stack of chintz-covered hatboxes. She reached for one and the doorbell rang.
That couldn’t be Vanessa already.

Looking out the
window yielded the view of someone walking away from the house. It could have
been Matt. She forgot all her misgivings about seeing him again and maneuvered
the stairs as quickly as she could. She hobbled down the foyer and stepped outside.
A cruiser turned around the corner. Dejected, she hung her head. On the ground
lay an envelope with her name on it.

Chapter Five

Tala, shaking,
bent and picked up the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside.

Dear Tala,

I’m sorry
about last night. I’ve decided it’s best for both of us if we never see each
other again. To say we’re not good for each other is an understatement. I hope
you’ll understand, even though there are so many things I don’t.

This may
sound harsh, but I also think it’s in the best interest of the town if you left
as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Matt

Tala, tears
running down her cheeks, closed the door. No matter what happened, she couldn’t
believe he was willing to give up so easily. He must have thought she was responsible
in some way for Debbie’s murder. What else could it be? And maybe even he—

The doorbell
rang, and when Tala opened it, Vanessa stood there with a pizza box.

“Lunchtime. So what’s
up with the crying? Your face is all stained, and your eyes are red and puffy.”

“I’ll tell you
over pizza, however much I can eat.”

***

“I just can’t
believe all this craziness.” Vanessa took a bite out of her third piece of
pizza. She chewed fast and swallowed. “And I can’t wait to get my hands on that
diary. I stopped at the drug store and bought some hairpins. You know, they’re
best for the job.”

“Actually, I don’t,
but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Okay, I can’t
wait any longer. Where is it?”

“It’s in the
pantry. I didn’t want to leave it out in the open.”

“Good thinking.”
Vanessa took a sip of water.  

Tala rose and
got the caged book. She brought it to the table and handed it over to Vanessa.“Oh,
this is so strange.” Vanessa turned the cage over a few times. “I’m not
promising anything, Tala. This might be out of my league.”

“I have
confidence in you.” Tala managed a smile. 

“Well, here
goes.” Vanessa poked the hairpin into the lock and jiggled it. Then she repeated
the action a few times. “Hmm. Maybe I should use something else. Do you have
any paper clips?”

Tala walked
toward the kitchen cabinets and opened up a top drawer. She riffled around and
finally came up with one.

“Maybe this will
work.” Vanessa straightened the clip.  

Vanessa tried
again but couldn’t open the lock. “I guess I’m ready to admit defeat. What
next?”

Tala ignored her
question for the moment. “Vanessa, I’ve found horrible photos in the attic,
pictures of people mutilated.”

“Stop, Tala, I
don’t want to hear about them.”

“Well, I guess
you don’t want to see them, either. It’s just that you might know something
about them.”

“You guessed
right, and why would I ever know about stuff like that?”

“Yes, I suppose
it was a stretch. But I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t know where else to
turn. I also have a strong feeling the diary holds answers.”

“So, how are we
going to open it?”

“I don’t know.
Wait—the locksmith. I’m sure he could do it.”

“Well, I suppose
he could,” Vanessa said, “but do you want him to know about this?”

“Why not? And it’s
not like I’d let him read it. I’m calling him right now.”

Tala listed her
outgoing calls and clicked on the locksmith’s number. She let the phone ring a
long time.

“Owl Locksmith.
May I help you?”

“I really hope
so. This is Tala Martin. Remember, you changed my locks?”

“Oh yes, Tala.
How are you?”

“I’m okay,
Edgar. But I wanted to ask a favor.”

“What kind of
favor?”

“Well.” She
swallowed hard. “In the attic I found a book in a wire cage. I’d really
appreciate it if you could open it for me.”

“Hmm. I’ve been
doing this job for fifty-five years, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s
this—sometimes it’s better to leave things locked.”

“That’s not an
option at this point, Edgar. Please help me.”

***

Edgar, holding
the cage, sat at the kitchen table. Tala poured chamomile tea into two mugs,
one with a picture of a wolf and the other decorated with an owl, which she
gave to Edgar. Vanessa had an appointment to show a house and had to leave
before he arrived.

He touched the
clasp. “Do you know what this represents?”

“My neighbor
told me some things about the design.” She drew the amulet out from her shirt. “But
I don’t know what to believe.” Tala handed him the tea.

“There are
Native American beliefs we don’t speak of to outsiders. I’m sorry I can’t help
you with that, but I probably can help you with opening the lock. The rest is
up to you.”

“I’m sure that
would be a big help, Edgar.”

The old man picked
up a tool and inserted it into the lock. He shook his head. It didn’t open.

“Some locks fight
back. I have to pray over this one.” He put his right palm over the lock with
its wild beast depiction, and chanted in a low voice.

Tala couldn’t
make out the words, but whatever they were, she hoped his next attempt would be
successful.

Edgar slowly took
his palm away from the lock and tried again with the tool. This time—success. He
handed the cage to Tala.

“Thank you,
Edgar.” She paid him, and Edgar finished his tea.

When he was
leaving, he hesitated by the door for a minute. “Although I can’t tell you any
secrets, let me know if there’s some other way I can help you.”

“I will, Edgar.
Thanks.”

She opened the
door for him and watched as he walked down the path to his bottle-green antique
truck. Tala locked the door and hid the amulet from the cage in a Blue Willow vase
in the living room. Then she returned to the kitchen and the diary.

It had to be her
imagination, but the diary had a faint glow. She reached for it, but before she
could touch it, her grandmother’s voice floated to her: “Do not open the book, Tala.”

She turned
slowly. Her grandmother stood there, her eyes pleading.

“Leave now. Now!
It’s not safe for you to learn these things.”

She rubbed her
eyes, and her grandmother was gone.

The loud ringing
of the house phone made her jump, and she ran into the hallway. “Hello.”

“This is Willis
Sharp. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one who owns the contents of your
mother’s house. I don’t appreciate the fact that you hung up on my attorney.
Why are you making this more difficult for yourself than it has to be?”

“Look, I’m still
not convinced this is all on the level. I told your attorney I haven’t found my
mother’s copy of the receipt yet. I haven’t had enough time to look for it. Now
stop bothering me, or I’ll call the police.”

“Let me assure
you, the police are on my side.”

“We’ll see about
that if you harass me again.” She slammed the receiver down, this time not
regretting the action. She returned to the table and sat down. Tala stared at
the diary for a long time. She finally picked it up and waited for her
grandmother’s voice, but only silence filled the kitchen.

The mauve leather
cover had the word
Diary
inscribed in elegant gold script, though faded.
She turned the book over, but the back had nothing written on it. Tala took a
deep breath and opened it. Her grandmother’s name titled the first page. What
she read next made her drop the book.

Chapter Six

“What happened
with Tala?”

Matt leaned back
on Jack’s stained microfiber recliner. Some inane situation comedy filled the
television screen. He rubbed the chair arm and wondered what the color had been
when it was new. He shook his head. “Look, I know you’re my best buddy, but I
really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you really
think it’s a good idea to bottle all that up?” 

Matt let his hand
drop to the side, and Rocky, Jack’s Labrador lying next to him, raised his head
and licked it. He absently patted his head. “No, but I don’t know what else to
do with it.”

“Why don’t you
contact her?”

“I already sent
her a note saying I didn’t want to see her again.” He’d leave out the part
about asking her to leave town as soon as possible.

“That doesn’t
sound like you, giving up so easily.”

He sat up
straight. “Oh yeah, Jack. Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think
you do.”

Jack put up his
hands. “Okay, simmer down.”

Matt pounded a
fist on the armrest. “It’s just that when I was with her in the restaurant, I
got the same feelings as that night in the graveyard after the prom. I felt
this energy surge through my body, and I-I had to get away from her before…something
happened.”

“You were
probably just nervous. You know, you finally saw the woman again whom you’ve
dreamed about all these years.”

“That would all
be plausible if you were talking about a normal person.” Or persons. But in
spite of everything, he wanted to blame the whole thing on himself. “No, it was
more than that with me.”

“So, what did
you do?”

“I left.”

“And then what?”

“I drove home
and went to sleep.” The truth, at least part of it. He had awakened in the
morning and couldn’t remember how he had gotten home or what had occurred
during the night.

“Well, all I
know is you sure dumped Megan fast when Vanessa told you Tala was coming back
to town.”

“You’re right,
and at least I found out Megan’s not the one. But that doesn’t mean Tala is,
not after what happened again.”

Jack shook his
head. “I don’t care what you say. Seems to me this is unfinished business.”

“It’s unfinished
business that’s none of
your
business.” Matt stormed out, realizing he
was acting like a jerk, but kept walking anyway without looking back.

***

Tala picked up
the diary and again read the sentence that had shocked her: “This is my journey
to learn about the violence and tragedy haunting our family.”  

She stared at
the page for a long time. At last, here it was in black and white. An
admission. This was the key to knowing that everything hadn’t been her
imagination. The secrets would be over. The whispers would turn into clear
explanations. Her mother’s vague drunken mumblings would transform into coherent
answers. But was she strong enough to learn the truth? Tala didn’t know, but
the possibility of answers compelled her to continue reading.

I held my
grandchild in my arms today. What a perfect baby! I owe it to this angel to
find out the truth of our family so she has a chance for a normal life. My
daughter chose to drown her fear and confusion in alcohol, and her husband wasn’t
strong enough to face the truth about his collusion. So now, I will try to make
up for both their failures. And not only that, I will attempt to find out if
the afflicted family members can do anything to release them from what seems
like a curse. My cousin had hinted he had things he wanted to tell me, but I
was too afraid of what he would say. I regret that now that he’s dead. But there
is one other person who may tell me, although the danger of seeing him sends a
chill through me.

I have lived
like a hermit for a very long time in the guesthouse of our family’s residence.
My daughter and her husband need more room than I do, and I don’t want to be in
the midst of their unpleasantness. My brief trip to the hospital was the rare
exception to the seclusion. I order my groceries and have them left on the
porch. Once a month, I pay the bill through the mail.

The idea of
leaving the house for any length of time terrifies me, and his house is two
miles away. I don’t want anyone else to know about my journey, so I must walk
there. Two miles! But I must go. Of course, I don’t know if he’ll see me after
all these years. If I still have the courage, I’ll call him tomorrow and find
out.