I finally told Jeremy I had stayed long enough to help them find and kill this mutt on the condition that, when it was over, I could leave without him or Clay trying to stop me.
Jeremy agreed. Then he went to tell the others, taking Clay out back for an extended explanation.
When Clay returned, he was in high spirits, joking with Connor, mock wrestling with Nick, chatting with Edouard, and offering me the couch when we went back to the study to resume the meeting.
Since Jeremy would not have sugarcoated my arrangement, Clay had obviously reinterpreted the facts through his own filter of logic, a logic as indecipherable as his code of behavior and ethics.
I had straightened him out soon enough. As expected, the plan was to hunt down and kill the mutt. Given the dicey nature of the affair, this would take place in one or two phases.
Tonight, the five of us, excluding Jeremy, would go into town to track the mutt down. We had split into two groups, Edouard and Connor in one, the rest of us in the other.
If we found the mutt's lair, Edouard or I would determine whether or not the mutt could be killed safely. If it was not a safe kill, we had gathered information to plot the killing for another night.
After the Jose Carter fiasco, I was surprised Jeremy was willing to give me the responsibility of making such a decision, but no one else questioned it, so I kept quiet.
Before lunch, I went to my room and called Nicholas. Downstairs, Connor and Edouard were loudly debating some fine point of high finance.
Drawers in the kitchen banged open and shut and the smell of roasting lamb wafted up to me as Clay and Nick made lunch.
Although I could not hear Jeremy I knew he was still where we had left him, in the study poring over maps of Bear Valley to determine the best areas of town for our search that night.
Once in my room I walked to my bed, pushed back the canopy, crawled inside with my cell phone, and let the curtain swing closed, cutting off the outside view.
When Nicholas did not answer his office number, I tried his cell phone. He picked up on the third ring.
As his voice crackled down the line, all noise from downstairs seemed to stop and I was transported to another world, were planning to hunt down a werewolf was only a B movie plotline.
"It's me," I said. "Are you busy?"
"Heading off for lunch with a client. Potential client. I got your message. I went downstairs for a thirty-minute workout and missed your call. Can I get your number there? Hold on while I find some paper."
"I have got my cell phone."
"Okay, I'm an idiot. Of course, you do. So if I need you, I can call your cell, right?"
"I can not take it in the hospital. Against the rules. I will check for messages though."
"Hospital? Damn it. I am sorry. Five minutes into the conversation and I have not even asked what happened to your cousin. An accident?"
"His wife actually. I used to come down here in the summers and a bunch of us hung out together, Jeremy, his brothers, Celia—that's his wife."
Nicholas knew my parents were dead but I had told him none of the gory details, such as how young I was when it happened, so I was free to improvise.
"Anyway, Celia was in a car accident. Touch-and-go for a while, when Jeremy called me. She's off the critical list now."
"Thank God. Geez, that is awful. How is everyone holding up?"
"Okay. The problem is the kids. Three of them. Jeremy's really at loose ends here, trying to look after the little ones and worrying about Celia. I offered to stay for a few days, at least until Celia's parents get back from Europe.
Everyone's pretty shaken up right now."
"I can imagine. Hold on." Static buzzed down the line.
"Good. I am off the expressway. Sorry about that. So you are staying to help out?"
"Until after the weekend. Is that okay?"
"Sure. Absolutely. If I wasn't so tied up with work this week I had come down to help out myself. Do you need anything?"
"Got my credit card."He chuckled.
"That is all anyone needs these days. If you max out, give me a shout and I will transfer some money from my account. Damn—passed my turn."
"I will let you go."
"Sorry. Call me tonight if you get a chance, though I expect you'll be pretty busy. Three kids. How old?"
"All under five."
"Ouch. You will be busy. I will miss you."
"It will only be a couple of days."
"Good. Talk to you soon. Love you."
"You too. Bye."
As I hung up, I closed my eyes and exhaled. See? Not so bad. Nicholas was still Nicholas, nothing had changed.
Nicholas and my new life were out there, waiting for me to return. Only a few more days and I could go back to them.
After lunch, I went to the study to check my dossiers, hoping to find something that might help me figure out which mutt was causing trouble in Bear Valley.
One of my jobs with the Pack was to keep tabs on non-Pack werewolves. I had built a dossier of them, complete with photos and behavioral sketches.
I could recite over two dozen names and last known locations, and separate the list into the good, the bad, and the ugly—those who could suppress the urge to kill, those who could not, and those who did not bother trying.
Judging by this mutt's behavior, he fell into the last category. That narrowed it down from twenty-seven to about twenty.
I turned to the cupboards below the bookshelf. Opening the second one, I cleared a path through the brandy glasses and felt around the back panel for an exposed wooden nail.
When I found it, I twisted the nail, and the rear panel sprung open.
Inside the secret compartment, we kept the only two condemning articles in Stonehaven, the only things that could link us to what we were. One was my book of dossiers.
When I looked, though, it was not there. I sighed. Only Jeremy would have taken it out and he had left for a walk an hour ago.
Though I could always go looking for him, I knew he was not just taking in exercise but was finalizing the plans for our mutt hunt that night. Interruptions were not appreciated.