Authors: Rene Gutteridge
“It’s a miracle!” the reverend exclaimed, just as someone else yelled, “He’s possessed! Get outta the way!”
Chaos reigned for many minutes before Thief finally settled down. He paced the room a few times, and then, without further ado, settled into his favorite recliner near the fire, where he yawned.
Sheriff Parker’s hands were trembling. Ainsley rushed to him. “He’s alive! He’s alive!” she said, and her father smiled faintly, still in shock. Butch went to get him water, and everyone else, with trembling knees, either found a place to sit or tried to help those who were still passed out on the floor.
Butch came back in and said, “In all my years of dangerous combat, I’ve never seen anything like that before!”
Those who could find words just kept repeating how freaked out they were, or, if they were within the sheriff’s earshot, how happy they were that the cat was indeed alive.
But dread fell over Ainsley. She looked up at her father. Her voice quivered. “Dad, what about Wolfe?”
She slapped him upside the head as hard as she could. It did nothing more than annoy him, though, and he rubbed the spot and frowned at her.
“What’d you do that for?” Garth asked.
Missy Peeple, who’d steered him out of the chaos and into a quiet corner in the den said, “Keep your voice down!”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
Miss Peeple studied Garth. He was sweating and nervous, and his stupidity was getting to be a huge liability. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, which wasn’t hard since he hardly weighed more than feather. “Get a hold of yourself.”
He didn’t say anything, which was a good sign.
She let go of his shoulders. “What in the world happened in there? Why’s that cat alive?”
“Because,” Garth breathed, “I didn’t kill it.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a vet. I have certain moral standards I have to live up to, you know.”
Miss Peeple growled. “Well, good grief, what in the world did you think was going to happen when that cat came to?”
Garth swallowed. “I hadn’t thought that far, I guess.”
“You’re an idiot!” she scolded. “And don’t you think you could’ve done this town a favor by putting Romeo the cat out of his misery?”
“Listen to me. I accomplished what I wanted to. Ainsley thinks Wolfe poisoned their cat, and she’s going to need a shoulder to cry on. That’s where I come in. I’ll be there for her, and she’ll see that I’m her perfect man.”
His expression changed suddenly, and Missy noticed he wasn’t looking at her. She turned.
It was Ainsley. Standing in the doorway. With her arms crossed.
It took nearly five minutes for Garth Twyne to explain that he’d not poisoned Thief, but had simply given him a drug to slow down his heartbeat and make him unconscious. Ainsley watched with disgust as Garth fumbled his words, shoved his hands in and out of his pockets, and let
his eyes dart around the room as if looking for someone who might feel compassion for him. There was no one.
Ainsley grew so tired of his ramblings that she finally stood up and said, “I can’t believe you would do this and let Wolfe take the blame. Why?”
His shoulders straightened, and he looked her directly in the eye. “Because I love you. And I wanted you to see what a terrible mistake you’re making by falling for a creep like Boo.”
“A
creep like Boo?”
Ainsley’s voice rose an octave. “Wolfe would never poison a cat and blame someone else. This isn’t love, Garth. This is jealousy. Jealousy does crazy things to people! You’re sick, that’s what you are. Besides, you’re in love with Melb!”
Melb, who was lying on the couch with her feet propped up on a pillow, swallowed hard as the color once again drained from her face.
“Melb’s in love with Wolfe,” Garth said with exasperation.
“What?”
“We’re not in love with each other. We were just trying to”—he looked around sheepishly, then stared at the carpet—“break you up.”
Ainsley gave Garth the harshest look she could. She was about to scold him again when she heard Oliver say, “I have something to confess too.”
Ainsley turned to him. “What?”
“I’ve been trying to, well, let’s just say I’ve been hoping Wolfe would go back to who he used to be before he found religion. Ainsley, my intentions were to break you two up as well.”
Marlee said, “You’re in love with Ainsley too?”
“No.” Oliver shifted his attention to Melb. “I’m in love with Melb.”
Astonished “oohs!” were only superseded by Melb’s cry of surprise. Oliver explained. “I thought Garth and Melb were together, and if Ainsley and Wolfe broke up, I knew Garth would go after Ainsley, and then I could be with Melb. I’m sorry, Melb. That was horrible.”
Melb was smiling. “You’re in love with
me?”
“For a long time. I’m sorry I didn’t have the guts to tell you sooner.”
Oliver smiled longingly at Melb from across the room, and their
exchange was admired by everyone until Mayor Wullisworth said, “I embezzled money. Okay?”
“What?” the crowd gasped yet again.
“A few years ago. I was in debt. I’ve almost paid it all back, right, Martin?”
Martin’s face grew solemn, and his gaze shifted around the room.
The sheriff said, “You knew about this?”
Martin nodded, and the mayor said, “He was a good enough friend to let me pay it back, but an even better friend for confronting me. Martin’s a town treasurer everyone should be proud of.”
Martin stepped forward. “But I’m not proud of how I’ve been acting. I, too, had ill intentions. I’ve been trying to break them up as well.”
“
You’re
in love with Ainsley?” Garth nearly shouted.
“No, no. I was afraid. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, hoping to put our little town back in place. You see, I thought Ainsley was probably going to be the biggest influence in keeping Wolfe from going back to writing his books. And if he didn’t write his horror novels anymore, then Mr. Tennison was going to write his book about Skary, and then everyone would know about the mayor and how I covered up for him.” Martin hung his head.
Alfred stepped forward. “There’s no book.”
Martin and Mayor Wullisworth’s jaws dropped. “There’s not?”
“No, it was just an excuse to stick around here and try to change Wolfe’s mind about becoming a Christian.”
“There’s no book?” the mayor asked again.
“No.”
Ainsley noticed suddenly that nearly everyone’s attention had shifted to one person: Miss Missy Peeple. And the little old lady who had looked so feeble and frail moments before was now scowling at the group like a ferocious tiger.
“Miss Peeple?” Ainsley said cautiously.
She narrowed her eyes. “You all are so naive. Sitting in here, talking about your feelings. Getting things off your chest. Are you all going to feel good when Skary ceases to exist?”
“That’s nonsense,” Ainsley said. “Our town was doing fine before he came.”
“Oh? I remember a different version, I guess. I remember when Oliver had to file bankruptcy, when Mayor Wullisworth announced trash would be picked up only once every two weeks, when Marty over here was drinking himself into oblivion every time he did the books.”
The room grew quiet.
She continued. “All you people want to be so noble and kind and compassionate, but the truth of the matter is that Wolfe Boone, horror novelist, is the reason Skary exists at all, and the reason all of you are driving newer cars and living in nicer homes and spending the money in your pockets. Before he came we were a speck. We were nothing. Now we mean something. We’re known for something.”
“But it was wrong,” said Oliver. “It was wrong of us to interfere with something like a man finding his faith. And you know what? I have to say I’m inspired by Wolfe. Before, I was going to church every Sunday just because that’s what you did on Sunday. But I see a sparkle in Wolfe’s eye. I see something there I wish I had.”
Martin nodded. “Talking to him today I realized his faith is genuine, that he genuinely loves God. That prayer he said at the table moved me.”
All the guests but Missy eagerly agreed.
Oliver said, “I was so adamant about finding out who witnessed to Boo. I don’t care who it is now. I’m just glad they did.”
Mayor Wullisworth also chimed in. “I thought I could show Wolfe how hard the Christian faith could be. Instead, I’ve realized how much I need what he has.”
“Throw around your religious words and feel better about yourselves,” Missy spat. “I’m the only one honest enough to call it the way it is, and if you don’t like it, that’s too bad.”
“So you instigated all this?” Ainsley asked. “All this scheming was your idea?”
“I had a little help from the pig cloner.”
Ainsley looked at Garth, then felt her father’s hand on her shoulder. “I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said. “I shouldn’t have blamed Wolfe.”
“Dad, we have to get to his house. See if he’s okay. Please, we have to find a way.”
“I agree.”
Oliver stepped forward. “I’ve got a Hummer at the lot. If we can get over there, we can use it.”
It took fifteen minutes to travel two miles in Oliver’s BMW. They had to have the group push the car out of the snow just to get out of the Parkers’ driveway, and after that they slid off the road twice. Oliver’s shirt was soaked through with nervous sweat when they arrived at his lot, and it didn’t help that Sheriff Parker was yelling instructions to Butch the whole time on how to drive in the snow.
Oliver found the keys to the bright yellow Hummer. Oliver, Butch, Ainsley, Sheriff Parker, and Marty all hopped in. From Oliver’s office, Ainsley tried to phone Wolfe, but no one answered. It was five miles from the car lot to Wolfe’s house, and Ainsley’s heart pounded as she tried to think of the route Wolfe might have taken home. Perhaps he caught a ride from a lone soul brave enough to be out in this weather. Had he stayed on the streets or tried to cut through the trees?
They finally turned onto Dreary Street, which led to the hill on which Wolfe’s house sat. It had taken only ten minutes, thanks in part to her brother at the wheel and in part to the Hummer.
“The house looks dark,” Ainsley said fearfully as she peered out the window. Butch pulled the Hummer to the side of the street.
“There’s a light on in one of the windows,” Sheriff Parker said. “Let’s hope. Leave the Hummer here. I’m going to have to climb the hill to get to the house. No use in getting stuck. Stay here.”
“Daddy, I’m going with you,” Ainsley said.
“You’re not dressed for this weather,” Butch said sternly.
“I don’t care.” She opened the vehicle’s door. “I’m going up to that house.” She hopped out and followed her dad and Butch up the hill. She’d been smart enough to grab her snow boots before they left, and
though she had her snow jacket, mittens, and a knit hat on, she wouldn’t last out here more than a few minutes. She shivered at the thought of Wolfe’s being out in this wearing less than she had on, and for longer.
The hill was nearly impossible to climb, and it took a good while to find the path that led to the house. When they finally got there, Ainsley hurriedly rushed to the front door and pounded. “Wolfe! It’s Ainsley! Open up! Are you okay? Wolfe!” She listened, but all she could hear were the dogs frantically barking at the door. “Wolfe, please. We know the truth. Garth did it! Please, if you’re in there, open the door.”