Reviewers:
Kath – Glad you're still hanging in there. This next chapter is short, but I think you'll see that Ronilyn has more in common with Lucas then maybe she realizes.
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The next morning Ronilyn dropped Mrs. Broomley off at City Hall on her way to Ascension and her meeting with her mother's attorney. She rolled down the car window and dangled her arm out, welcoming the heat of the sun on her skin. She'd had the usual disturbing dreams last night, with the new addition of leering and lurking gargoyles. It hadn't been a restful slumber, yet somehow she awoke feeling invigorated.
The attorney who sent her mother's letter knew nothing about its circumstances. He'd only been employed at the firm a few years and it was merely a task he'd been assigned to perform. Ronilyn managed to locate the woman who'd been the firm's receptionist thirty years ago. Now the assistant to the senior partner, the woman could only recall that two women with a baby had brought the letter to the firm one day. That was the only time she remembered seeing the women.
Ronilyn thanked the woman for speaking with her and stopped at a restaurant for lunch before returning to Trinity. She spent the drive back contemplating her next move.
Lucas claimed to not have been involved with whatever had happened to her mother Sarah, but there was no way of knowing if that were true. If her Uncle Christopher had done it, he was dead and was of no use whatsoever. Lucas couldn't or wouldn't help her mother and Ronilyn didn't know which was true. She sighed, drumming her fingers along the side of the car. Ben was right. The truth was damn hard to find in Trinity.
She crossed over the town boundary line and adjusted her speed to match the speed limit, not wanting to be caught in any speed traps along the tree-lined road. She slowed down as she passed an empty Cadillac on the side of the road, then suddenly slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt and Ronilyn leaned out the window, listening intently.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
She parked the car on the side of the road in front of the Cadillac and ran into the woods toward the screaming voice. Ronilyn slowed as the screams became louder, then stopped as she arrived at a small clearing. She looked up at the man wrapped around a tree branch, then at the snarling wolf standing below him. Her gaze was drawn to the shotgun laying several yards from the tree. Keeping an eye on the wolf, she crouched down and picked up the weapon. The barrel was warm to the touch. She inhaled deeply and the smell of gunpowder filled her nostrils. The shotgun had been fired.
"Oh, thank God! Kill it! Kill it!"
Frowning, Ronilyn shouldered the shotgun and looked up at the man. "What happened?"
"What difference does it make? Kill that damn thing!" the man cried. "It attacked me when I was tryin' to fix my car."
"In broad daylight on the side of the road?" Ronilyn narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "So instead of getting into your car and waiting for him to leave, you grabbed your gun and ran into the woods? The hood of your car wasn't even up." She shook her head. "I don't buy it."
"You don't buy it?" The man squirmed on the tree branch and nearly slipped. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
The wolf turned in Ronilyn's direction, baring teeth dripping with saliva. No blood though, she noted. She kept a firm grip on the shotgun and looked back up at the man, studying him closely. "You don't look like you've been hurt. Hey! Aren't you Mayor Quimby?"
"Yeah. So what?" He inched farther up on the branch.
"You been hunting out of season, Mayor? You ought to know better than that." An idea sprang into Ronilyn's head. The wolf snarled, its eyes glowing as it took one, then two steps toward her. Ronilyn turned her gaze onto the animal. "Don't do it," she warned in a low voice.
The wolf's growls lessened until it finally quieted completely. Ronilyn watched the animal as she said, "Mayor, did you talk to Mrs. Broomley this morning?"
"That old woman? Yeah, so what? Get that thing away from me!"
"Are you going to go along with her suggestion?"
"Kill that wolf and I'll let you know."
"Mr. Mayor, it would be in your best interests to do what she asked," Ronilyn said, alternating glances between the wolf and the treed mayor.
"Are you crazy? I can't do that. Lucas'll... He won't like it."
"Yeah?" Ronilyn called up to him. "Well, I'm the one down here with the wolf and the gun. If I walk away, Lucas'll be the least of your worries."
The mayor swore.
Ronilyn put a hand to her ear. "What's that, Mayor? I can't tell if that's a yes or no."
The man looked down at the wolf, who now sat immediately below the tree. The wolf opened its jaws and howled.
"Christ. Okay, okay, okay. I'll do it. I'll have a press conference tonight. Happy?"
"Ecstatic." Ronilyn grinned. "Okay, wolfie," she addressed the animal, "get on out of here."
The wolf cocked its head at her.
"Go on," she said and the animal sprinted off into the woods.
"Doesn't really matter," Mayor Quimby mumbled as he climbed down from the tree. "The wolf, Lucas, what's the difference?"
"There isn't any," Ronilyn said. "I took care of the wolf and I'll take care of Lucas. But in order to do that, you need to do me a favor."
The mayor tumbled onto the ground. "What, another one?" He stood and brushed himself off. "I'm already doin' you a favor by goin' along with what you and that old woman want. Don't push your luck."
Ronilyn put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. "Hey, wolfie! Come on back!"
"Christ. Alright, alright. Let's just get out of here."
Ronilyn slapped the man on the shoulders. "Good idea. I'll drive you back into town, since you said your car doesn't work," she told him. "It's not safe around the woods. All sorts of predators lurking out here."