Doctor Fisher.”
“Thank you.” Before he could step away, I asked, “Gabriel?”
“Yes, Madam?”
“What’s out there? The wolves, I know, but I heard something else.”
“These hills are full of tales, Madam. Perhaps you heard the evil spirit of which Ms. Lonna spoke.”
I shivered as the realization of what we’d planned to do that night hit me. “Lonna had wanted to go and see if she could catch whatever’s taking the children in action. After hearing that cry, I’m glad we fought. I think she’s forgotten.”
“I wouldn’t recommend going out clothed only in human flesh, not on the night of a full moon.” Gabriel took a sip of his coffee, and I wondered what he could see out there in the gloom, what he could smell with his ultra-sensitive nose. “There is old energy in these hills. And old creatures.”
“And the boys are out there hunting?”
“They are with their pack and are therefore protected.”
“I hope so. Why don’t you go?”
“I don’t feel the need. Not tonight. Being near them helps me to stifle my own desires.”
“Why?”
“I have no pack.”
“That makes two of us.” I noticed he held a glass mug of Irish coffee as well. I didn’t care. “Cheers. To us lone wolves.”
“Cheers, Doctor Fisher.”
I smiled up at him over the rim of my glass mug. “Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.”
His elegant lips curled into a smile. “Perhaps not.”
I leaned against the doorframe. In spite of my quivering rage, it didn’t rattle, so I had to satisfy myself with glaring into the gloom instead.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, what?” came from the lump on the bed.
“Did you find out anything else that was useful?”
“Bug off.”
“You’re supposed to be a P.I.,” I reminded her.
“Remember the Oliver case?”
“The one where you found out it was the teacher abusing the child, not the father?”
“Yes. Peter knows it. One of his law firm partners defended the guy.”
“You’re not convincing me he’s a worthy person if he was with a firm that defends perverts.”
“He said my work was brilliant, that he couldn’t have built a case against it.” The lump rolled over, and I felt her looking at me. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, and I stepped back. “I just wanted the appreciation not to end. Do you know what it’s like when your purpose, your career, is affirmed like that?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Oh, Joanie, I’m so sorry!” She burst into tears.
“Sleep it off, Lonna.” I sighed and closed the door behind me.
And woke up.
Dream analysts say every character in one’s dreams symbolizes some aspect of the self. The Lonna in the dream was the part of me that had sold out, that had turned tail and run before I could discover the truth. I’d felt too ashamed to protest my termination because they’d all suspect I had been having an affair with my boss.
“Nothing like the honesty of the mind at three a.m.,” I told myself as I strained to hear the sounds of the night. Nothing. No voices, no wolves. Not even the bone-shuddering cry I’d heard.
I rolled over to go back to sleep, but my eyes wouldn’t close. Something was horribly wrong. Then I heard it, from the bottom of the driveway, grunts and the swish of something being dragged. Fear paralyzed my stomach while my heart thudded against my ribs. It was the same feeling I’d had the night of the fire, the one that urged me to hurry, to find something meaningful in the data as something closed in on me. The same feeling I’d had the night Andrew died.
Footsteps, a muffled exclamation, then the front door opened and closed. I rose, splashed some water on my face, and put on a robe.
“Doctor Fisher?” Gabriel stood at the door. At first it looked like his shirt was stained black, but the smell told me it was blood, and he was soaked with it.
“Gabriel, are you hurt?”
“No, Doctor, but she is, and she’s asking for
“Thank you.” Before he could step away, I asked, “Gabriel?”
“Yes, Madam?”
“What’s out there? The wolves, I know, but I heard something else.”
“These hills are full of tales, Madam. Perhaps you heard the evil spirit of which Ms. Lonna spoke.”
I shivered as the realization of what we’d planned to do that night hit me. “Lonna had wanted to go and see if she could catch whatever’s taking the children in action. After hearing that cry, I’m glad we fought. I think she’s forgotten.”
“I wouldn’t recommend going out clothed only in human flesh, not on the night of a full moon.” Gabriel took a sip of his coffee, and I wondered what he could see out there in the gloom, what he could smell with his ultra-sensitive nose. “There is old energy in these hills. And old creatures.”
“And the boys are out there hunting?”
“They are with their pack and are therefore protected.”
“I hope so. Why don’t you go?”
“I don’t feel the need. Not tonight. Being near them helps me to stifle my own desires.”
“Why?”
“I have no pack.”
“That makes two of us.” I noticed he held a glass mug of Irish coffee as well. I didn’t care. “Cheers. To us lone wolves.”
“Cheers, Doctor Fisher.”
I smiled up at him over the rim of my glass mug. “Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.”
His elegant lips curled into a smile. “Perhaps not.”
I leaned against the doorframe. In spite of my quivering rage, it didn’t rattle, so I had to satisfy myself with glaring into the gloom instead.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, what?” came from the lump on the bed.
“Did you find out anything else that was useful?”
“Bug off.”
“You’re supposed to be a P.I.,” I reminded her.
“Remember the Oliver case?”
“The one where you found out it was the teacher abusing the child, not the father?”
“Yes. Peter knows it. One of his law firm partners defended the guy.”
“You’re not convincing me he’s a worthy person if he was with a firm that defends perverts.”
“He said my work was brilliant, that he couldn’t have built a case against it.” The lump rolled over, and I felt her looking at me. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, and I stepped back. “I just wanted the appreciation not to end. Do you know what it’s like when your purpose, your career, is affirmed like that?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Oh, Joanie, I’m so sorry!” She burst into tears.
“Sleep it off, Lonna.” I sighed and closed the door behind me.
And woke up.
Dream analysts say every character in one’s dreams symbolizes some aspect of the self. The Lonna in the dream was the part of me that had sold out, that had turned tail and run before I could discover the truth. I’d felt too ashamed to protest my termination because they’d all suspect I had been having an affair with my boss.
“Nothing like the honesty of the mind at three a.m.,” I told myself as I strained to hear the sounds of the night. Nothing. No voices, no wolves. Not even the bone-shuddering cry I’d heard.
I rolled over to go back to sleep, but my eyes wouldn’t close. Something was horribly wrong. Then I heard it, from the bottom of the driveway, grunts and the swish of something being dragged. Fear paralyzed my stomach while my heart thudded against my ribs. It was the same feeling I’d had the night of the fire, the one that urged me to hurry, to find something meaningful in the data as something closed in on me. The same feeling I’d had the night Andrew died.
Footsteps, a muffled exclamation, then the front door opened and closed. I rose, splashed some water on my face, and put on a robe.
“Doctor Fisher?” Gabriel stood at the door. At first it looked like his shirt was stained black, but the smell told me it was blood, and he was soaked with it.
“Gabriel, are you hurt?”
“No, Doctor, but she is, and she’s asking for
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