Unleashed (23 page)

They had to park a couple of blocks away from the store and walk down the cobbled paths of the extremely quaint, old-timey town. They passed one structure with a small white metal sign on the wall that read
WOLF SPRINGS TAVERN, EST. 1859, A HISTORIC SITE
.

“That might be where Xavier Cazador got his free drinks,” Katelyn said excitedly.

“I still say he never found the mine,” Cordelia insisted. “I think he made it all up. After all, he was the town drunk.”

“Then why did Jubal DeAndrew disappear two days later?”

“His daughter killed him.”

“Nice,” Katelyn drawled.

“No.
This
is nice,” Cordelia announced, gesturing to Babette’s.

The tiny storefront window of Babette’s Vintage featured mannequins dressed in clothes from different time periods; one wore a cute Katy Perry 1950s dress, and a male figure stood in embroidered bell-bottom jeans and a baggy Indian-print top with wide sleeves. In the far right corner hung the flyer for the meeting, beside a poster that read
WE LOVE YOU, HALEY AND BECKY. LOVE, BABETTE & CO
.

A little bell tinkled over the door as they walked in. An attractive middle-aged woman seated behind a counter looked up from a book and gave them a wave.

“Hi, Babette,” Cordelia said.

“Help yourselves, girls.” The woman flashed a smile and went back to her book.

Katelyn walked slowly down one of the aisles, marveling at the variety of the clothes. It was almost as good as any place on Melrose Avenue.

And then she saw it—the perfect dress. It was a short floral print in creams and burnished golds with a faint sheen to the fabric. Cream lace cap sleeves fluttered on it. The neck was a rounded scoop. A cream belt complemented the sleeves.

“Ooh la la,” Cordelia gushed as Katelyn modeled it for her. “Even
I
want you.”

Katelyn fluttered her lashes with a pleased laugh.

Katelyn paid for the dress and took the bag from Babette.

“This must be for a special occasion,” Babette said.

“Party,” Cordelia said, winking.

“The one at Sam’s?” Babette asked, and Cordelia nodded a little too brightly. Katelyn wished she could invite her along, but as the new girl, she didn’t have the power to include other people. “Guess they’re not canceling after all. There was talk about it.”

Then Babette nodded at Katelyn. “You’re the new girl. Kat McBride.”

“Yes,” Katelyn said, surprised.

“Babette is gossip central,” Cordelia told Katelyn. “She knows
everything
that’s going on.”

Katelyn took a deep breath. “Do you know anything about … what happened to Haley and Becky?”

Babette exhaled slowly and let her smile fall, as if she no longer had to pretend that everything was all right.

“Oh, girls, I don’t know
what
to think.” She scanned the room, as if making sure no one else could hear her. “I was one of the people who really pushed to let Jack Bronson purchase the old hot springs. He’s been buying my little wolf figurines for his gift shop.” She gestured to a display of ceramic statues—a wolf standing on its hind legs, wearing a Superman costume; another one doing kung fu. “And I’ve got some of my nicer pieces on consignment in his gift shop.”

She chewed her lower lip. “But I can’t remember the last time an animal attacked a human being around here. And hunting season’s right around the corner. The bears are going to be even more jittery.”

“Is that what you think it was? A bear?” Cordelia asked.

Babette picked up the figurine of the wolf in the Superman uniform. “Well, I don’t think it was a wolf. Wolves are shy.”

“A wolf attacked me,” Katelyn said, but Cordelia nudged her to be silent.

“What? When?” Babette’s eyes widened.

“It was my first week here; there was a dead deer in the road,” Katelyn said hastily.

The bell on the door tinkled, signaling the arrival of another customer.

“We should go,” Cordelia announced.

“I’m going to be getting some pretty winter formals,” Babette said in a stage whisper. “I’ll set aside some dresses for the two of you.” She eyed Katelyn. “I’m thinking something in an ice blue to set off that gorgeous hair of yours.”

“Thanks,” Katelyn said sincerely, warming to the woman.

“Enjoy the party,” Babette replied, waving goodbye.

Katelyn and Cordelia turned to go, then nearly ran into an elderly woman walking with a cane. She wore a heavy black coat and a broad hat trimmed with black feathers.

“Terrible business, terrible,” she said. She frowned at Katelyn and Cordelia. “You two girls shouldn’t be out. You should be home, where it’s safe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cordelia said sweetly, then pulled Katelyn past the woman.

“Listen, Kat,” Cordelia said as soon as they were outside. “Don’t tell Babette anything about
anything
. She’ll broadcast it all over town.”

“But why should I hide what happened?” Katelyn asked.

“Do you want Mike Wright shooting around your cabin?” Cordelia pressed. “Shooting out the windows?”

“You have a point,” Katelyn said. “But is there some kind of investigation going on? Do you get the news?” It seemed like a luxury to be connected to the outside world.

“Satellite,” Cordelia told her. “Maybe we can watch sometime.” Her voice trailed off, as if simply having someone over to watch TV was a luxury to her.

“There’s a sort of coffee house up the block that way,” Cordelia said, changing the subject. “You want to get something to drink?”

“Sure,” Katelyn said, eager to extend the afternoon excursion.

“Cool.” Cordelia patted her jacket pockets. She looked stricken. “Oh, great. I forgot my cell in the car. My dad wants me to stay in contact. I’ll be right back.”

“Take my dress?” Katelyn asked.

“And such a dress.” Cordelia smiled and trotted off with Katelyn’s purchase.

The wind began to pick up. Katelyn wrapped her arms around herself. It was getting chilly. Leaves fluttered down, obscuring her line of vision as Cordelia disappeared around the corner.

“
Ooorooo
!”

Katelyn jumped. Someone—and it was definitely a some
one
, not a some
thing
—was howling close behind her. She spun around and a man in a destroyed gray INNER WOLF sweatshirt leered at her. His hair was matted and both sleeves of his sweatshirt were torn off at the shoulders. The bottoms of his jeans hung in tatters.

She took a couple of hasty steps back. The guy looked crazy.

“What have we here?” he asked.

“My, my.” A second man appeared behind the first. He was wearing a business suit that was in decent shape, tie loosened, and had leaves in his hair.

Sweatshirt flashed her a vicious smile. “Hi. You look … cold.”

“We can warm you up,” the suit guy said, staggering toward her.

“That’s okay.” She took a few steps backward, trying to understand what was going on. Had they been drinking?

Sweatshirt grinned at Suit Man. “Hear that? It’s okay!”

They both threw back their heads and howled.

“Hey, back off!” she shouted, scared.

The suit guy staggered toward her. Katelyn tried to remember something, anything, from the one and only self-defense class she had taken in her entire life. But probably the best thing she could do was run. She turned … and came face to face with Cordelia. Her head was held high, and her hands were balled into fists.

“Hey, losers!” Cordelia bellowed.

A chill shot down Katelyn’s spine.

Oh, my God, she’s going to get us both killed!

Before anyone could move, a third man charged from around the corner, heading for the four of them. He looked familiar—silver hair, trim beard, a polo shirt, and Dockers. His movements were athletic, like those of a personal trainer or a bodyguard, and as he neared, she felt an odd kind of power about him.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice low but filled with authority.

Sweatshirt laughed uncertainly. “Jack, we were just …” He laughed again.

“Yes?” the man—Jack—demanded. “Just
what
?”

“Letting out our wolf,” number two murmured, clearly embarrassed. His breath reeked of alcohol. Katelyn had been right: they had been drinking.

“Is that what this is?” Jack’s eyes flashed as he stared down the two men.

And then Katelyn realized who he was—Jack
Bronson
, in the flesh. She watched openmouthed as the scene continued to play out.

“But we—we—” Sweatshirt stammered. “It’s okay. Everything’s all right.”

Bronson looked hard at him. At both of them. The air was charged with tension so thick Katelyn could feel it.

She glanced at Cordelia, who blinked and looked back. Cordelia’s free hand hovered inches above her cell phone, as if trying to decide if she should call someone.

“Go back to the center.
Now
,” Bronson said.

“But, Jack,” Sweatshirt protested, his shoulders rounding. Beside him, the Suit Man backed down, also lowering his head.

“You too,” Bronson commanded the Suit Man; then he pulled out a cell phone. “The van will take you to the airport when you get back. Both of you.”

“
What
?” Sweatshirt cried.

“My company paid for the training,” Suit Man protested. “I didn’t
do
anything!”

Bronson said nothing, only stared them down again. Abashed, the men silently withdrew, turning and shuffling away.

As soon as they were out of sight, Bronson turned to Katelyn. “I’m sorry. My students are not like that.”

Katelyn was amazed at the way he’d handled them. All he’d had to do was speak and they backed down. She thought about Mike and wished she could handle him the same way. Still, she didn’t like Jack Bronson. That she was sure of. He was scaring her, and she didn’t understand why. She wanted to get away from him as fast as possible.

“You should think about keeping your animals in a cage,” Cordelia said angrily. She grabbed Katelyn’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Cordelia charged down the street, practically dragging Katelyn behind her.

“They should shut that guy down,” she said.

“He
did
come to our rescue,” Katelyn pointed out.

“Yeah, from
his
groupies,” Cordelia retorted.

Katelyn was still trying to process Cordelia’s bold reaction to the two drunk men. She’d been really pissed—and ready to take them on. It reminded Katelyn of the chin-up episode in the gym. Cordelia’s temper had flared then, too. Maybe that was what Paulette had meant—not too deep down, Cordelia had a short fuse that ignited if she felt threatened.

They reached the coffee house. It was in the bottom floor of an old-fashioned wooden building. Katelyn could smell coffee and cinnamon before she even saw the big goofy cow face hanging over the entrance. It wore a cowbell that read COWFFEINE. Cordelia opened the door, and warm air wafted toward them. Jazz music was playing.

And there was a display table containing a dozen or so copies of
Unleashing Your Inner Wolf
.

“No way,” Katelyn blurted. She walked straight to the display, picked up one of the books, and showed it to Cordelia. “He’s everywhere.”

“Cordelia,” said a thirty-something man behind the counter. He was wearing a white apron over a plaid shirt. “I was so sorry to hear about Becky.”

Cordelia grabbed the book out of Katelyn’s hand and shook it at him. “You shouldn’t be selling this,” she said. “This guy is psycho. For all we know, one of his groupies killed her. Or maybe
he
did!”

The man blinked. Then he glanced at Katelyn. She didn’t know what to do or say. But after what had just happened outside, she had to admit that Cordelia had a point.

Friday came, and with it, the party.

With butterflies in her stomach, Katelyn pulled up around the corner from the house where the party was going to be, grateful that Trick’s directions were easy to follow. Located on a rambling street not far from the high school, the little stone house had a chimney and was pressed on either side by broad trees whose leaves were beginning to erupt in purple, pumpkin, and egg-yolk yellow. It looked kind of like a hobbit dwelling, something from a storybook, and reminded her of one of the old stone houses in Hollywood, very few of which were left.

Trick had told her that the hostess, Sam, used to coedit a literary e-zine with him in middle school. It was the same girl she’d asked to relay the message to Trick that she was leaving early that Tuesday, and she was happy to meet her formally.

She’d picked the corner so she could approach without being seen right away. She needed a moment to compose herself and make sure her hair and makeup were still good. After she checked in the rearview mirror, she slid out of the truck and locked it, tossed the keys in her tiny shoulder-strap purse, then walked around the corner.

Trick was leaning against his Mustang in a tight pair of jeans, a white button-down shirt, and his cowboy boots. She couldn’t help noticing that his eyes lit up when he saw her. He pushed away from the car and stood up straight.