Dead Letter Day (17 page)

She turned toward me, but it took a while. Willow’s synapses weren’t exactly firing at 100 percent efficiency. Whatever kind of joy juice they had her on looked like it was pretty powerful.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“No, but I have something for you,” I said, keeping my voice low.

Her brow furrowed and she stepped back. “What kind of thing?”

“Something good,” I said. “Something that will make you feel better.” I slipped the piece of bark out of my pocket and held it out toward her.

She looked at it, but didn’t reach for it. “What is that?”

“It’s a message from someone who wants to help you.” I held it out a little closer to her, but tried to shield it from view from behind us.

“It’s part of a tree.” She stared at the bark, but didn’t make a move to take it. Of course, her reflexes weren’t exactly snappy right now.

“Yes, it is.” I confirmed her statement of what was obvious to me, but might not be to her, given her present situation.

“They said that the tree stuff I’ve been seeing isn’t real. Are you sure that’s real?” She looked truly concerned.

Man, the docs were doing a real head trip on this poor girl. Not that it was entirely their fault. They thought they were helping. What’s that saying about hell and good intentions and pavement? “They may not be one hundred percent right about that, but I don’t think you should argue with them. The more you agree with them, the sooner you’ll get out of here. I don’t think you belong here, Willow.”

She turned back to the window and pressed her hand to the glass. “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

That came close to breaking my heart. I’d been confused plenty of times, but never about whether or not I belonged locked up. “I am and so is the, uh, person who asked me to give this to you. Will you take it, Willow? There’s an address on the back. You should go there when you get out of here.”

“Are you real?” she asked.

“Yep. Absolutely. One hundred percent real.” Of course, what would a hallucination say to her? I wondered what I’d have to do to convince her.

She thought about it for a few minutes more. I was starting to get nervous. The last thing I needed was for one of the nurses to come through and catch me trying to give tree bark with an address written on it to their weird tree girl. Finally she reached out her hand and took the bark.

And nothing happened. I’m not sure precisely what I expected. Maybe some sort of light breaking through the window and the sound of angels. Or a smile. Or the crackle of static electricity. There was nothing. Willow did smile a little bit, but only a little bit. Maybe, given all the drugs she was on, it was more like a big giant grin and I didn’t know it.

“They’re not going to let me keep this,” she said then, looking down at the bark.

“Then you better hide it really well,” I suggested. “I’ve heard the light fixtures in the bathroom aren’t a bad spot for that kind of thing.” With any luck, the bulb wouldn’t get hot enough to burn the bark.

She nodded. “Yeah. Really well.” Then she walked away toward the rooms.

I went back to the door, waited to be buzzed through and started back to the emergency room. I glanced at my watch. I’d been gone a little longer than I’d expected. Hopefully no one would have noticed yet. A girl can dream, right?

As I rounded the corner, I found Jenny lounging against the wall near the entrance. I glanced around, wondering what other people saw when they saw her.

Sometimes everyone can see the things I see. Everyone sees Alex and Paul and Meredith. I suppose I should say
they see parts of them. I don’t think they see them the way I do. Otherwise people would be running screaming down the sidewalks in front of them.

Sometimes people don’t see what I see at all, though. Brownies are a good example of that. Gremlins also. People seem to notice movement, kind of like when you catch something out of the corner of your eye and then when you turn to look at it directly, there’s nothing there. There probably was something there.

Judging by the way people glanced at Jenny, they saw her, if not everything she was. It was good to know because then I could talk to her in public without people locking me up next to Willow. The idea that I had imaginary friends was cute to people when I was six. Now that I’m staring at thirty, they don’t find it as adorable.

“So?” Jenny asked.

“So I gave her the item.”

“And?” She pressed.

“And nothing. She took it. She’s worried that the nurses will find it and take it away from her.” I grimaced.

“Crap. I hadn’t thought of that.” Jenny chewed on her lower lip for a second. “What do you suggest?”

I stepped back. “I have no suggestions. I delivered the item. That’s what I do. I don’t suggest.”

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows you do way more than suggest. Help a sister out, will you?”

I’m not sure she realized her comments on my reputation weren’t exactly winning her any favors with me. Some ’Canes don’t have a lot of social skills. “I don’t know, Jenny. You could come back when you think she’s going to be released and see if you can intercept her as she’s leaving.”

She cocked her head to one side, her blonde hair
gleaming even under the fluorescent bulbs of the hospital hallway. “Not bad. It might work.” Then she smiled at me. “Thanks, Melina. It’s been a pleasure doing business.”

I shook her hand and watched her go, then went back in to my desk.

7

I HAD TIME AFTER I LEFT THE HOSPITAL TO GET SOME coffee and change into a
gi
before I got to the karate studio. I found myself looking at my Little Dragons that morning with a completely different eye than I’d ever looked at them with before. Was the little person forming inside me going to be a completely fearless little person like Tiffany Gutierrez or a whiney little brat like Jackson Burton? I felt like I could handle either of those contingencies, but what if he or she was a sneaky mean little thing like Miles Watson? What would I do then? Was there something I could eat or take now that would keep that from happening?

I’d read some website that claimed you could determine gender, but I think you had to be doing all that during the conception portion of the proceedings. We were clearly well past that point. I wasn’t exactly sure how far past, but definitely past. I wasn’t far enough along yet that an ultrasound
would tell me gender. Which didn’t mean I shouldn’t go get one. Or at least go to a doctor. Or something.

Then again, that meant telling someone and I still wanted to tell Ted first. I just had to work up the courage to do it.

I let Sophie take the Little Dragons through their warm-ups. She had a nice way with kids, way better than I had. She was easy with them, having fun without ever letting go of her authority. It wasn’t an easy line to walk. It had taken me years of watching Mae and trying myself before I found it. Sophie had it naturally. Even with her hair pulled back and the scars on the side of her face from her car accident fully visible, she had a kind of un-self-conscious confidence that I still didn’t have.

The group of twelve kids on the mat wiggled and hopped and giggled across the floor, stretching and warming up as they did. Then I stepped onto the mat.

Everyone went silent and the kids shoved their way into a straight line. Sophie bowed to me and then the kids did, too. It wasn’t always a bad thing to be sensei.

It certainly made it easier to deal with the kids. They didn’t expect me to be fun. I was the authority figure. The Big Kahuna. How would that work with my own kid, though?

I started the kids through a couple of drills, mainly stuff that we’d done before. It helped build their confidence at the beginning of a class to do a few things they were already familiar with before we started something new.

I thought about little Justine. I hadn’t had much of a touch with her. She’d taken an instant dislike to me. What if it was like the trouble I had with dogs? What if all little kids instantly either disliked or feared me? What kind of parent would I be?

I added one new move to the series we’d been doing and about half the class managed to trip themselves and fall down. We started over.

The truth was, I still had options. No one knew, except Grandma Rosie and she clearly wasn’t telling anyone. I still had a choice, although possibly not for a whole lot longer.

Before I made any of those choices, though, I was going to have to tell Ted. I really didn’t want to think about that, so the lucky Little Dragons suddenly got my full attention once again.

I TOOK ANOTHER NAP AND THEN WENT TO FIND CHUCK. He wasn’t at his house, but after a fair amount of wheedling, the man who answered the door told me he was at a job site and where to find him.

I wound my way through some back roads to a house that stood fairly far off the street. It was huge and new looking. I wondered what could possibly need re-doing in a place like this. I found him on the driveway, looking at some plans.

“Melina, so nice to see you again. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Chuck hadn’t even turned around. He looked far more comfortable out here, a tool belt slung around his hips, than he did behind the desk in his office. Let’s face it. He looked good in general. Werewolves age well and Chuck was no exception. It wasn’t the first time I wondered how old he was now and how old he’d been when he’d been turned.

I don’t exactly have a great eye for architecture, style or design, but even I could tell the remodel he was working on was going to be magnificent. Big and open and airy. Positioned on its lot in a way that made it look like the trees had grown that way to welcome it.

“Have you heard from Paul?” I asked, still hopeful that all my fears would prove to be ridiculous.

“Nope. You?”

I shook my head.

“Well, this has been nice, but it hardly seems worth the drive,” he observed, still not really looking at me.

“I have some other questions, Chuck. Do you have a minute?” I scuffed my toe in the dirt.

Now he turned, watched me for a second and then turned away again. He put his fingers to his lips and emitted an ear-piercing whistle. “Yo, Sam. I’m taking a break. Melina’s here with more questions.”

Sam, the same werewolf that had been at the hardware store, poked his head out from behind some framing where I hadn’t seen him before. “Hey, Melina. How’s it going?”

“Great. You?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

Chuck and I walked away from the construction, down toward the street. “So what do you want to know now?”

“What do you know about Michael Hollinger and Leanne McMannis?” I asked, cutting right to the chase.

Chuck looked over at me, clearly confused. “Who?”

“Michael Hollinger and Leanne McMannis,” I repeated, just in case he hadn’t heard me correctly.

“I have no idea who those people are. Should I?” He sounded concerned.

“Yeah. I think you should.” I outlined what had happened in both cases, as far as I knew.

“So this woman saw what looked like two creatures halfway between werewolf and human in her garage?” Chuck asked.

“That’s what it sounded like to me, except wouldn’t they have continued changing?” I still wasn’t sure. I know a lot about werewolves, but I’m by no means as expert as someone who actually is one.

Chuck didn’t answer. He kept walking. His pace sped up, though. I hurried myself a bit to keep up with him.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” he asked.

It wasn’t exactly my job to keep him posted on werewolf news you can use. “I just found out. How would you normally find out?”

He scowled. “It’s part of Kevin’s job to keep his ear to the ground and let me know about any werewolf activity in the area.”

“You think these were werewolves, then?” I still wasn’t convinced.

He stopped, thank goodness. I was getting out of breath. The air was thinner up here. “I don’t know. I know we should have been checking into it. How long ago did this happen?”

“McMannis’s house was broken into about two days before the last full moon. Hollinger was bitten about two weeks ago.”

“And he’s where? This Hollinger guy?” Chuck’s foot tapped the ground.

“The psych ward.” I shuddered a little bit.