Beneath a Winter Moon (64 page)

Jack turned out to be a huge attraction as well, especially to women and their kids. The book outlined many lighthearted adventures with Jack during Thomas’s research and people apparently loved the Siberian Husky, and as local word went out that the dog was with Thomas, more and more people came in to see him. Jack loved it. He was more than willing to lick the face of a little girl or nuzzle against a woman’s leg as she made cooing noises and rubbed his head. Jack liked girls the best. He had always favored them. Thomas was happy to see the dog so enthused.

Around 8p.m as Thomas was boxing up some of the unsold books and preparing to call it a night, a couple entered the bookstore. Thomas noticed them because the store’s owner had been trying to lock up, but had allowed the latecomers inside. The man was fairly young, younger than Thomas, and reminded him of that actor...Nicholas Cage. Not handsome, maybe, but the man did look like the actor. The woman at his side was tall and beautiful with flowing black hair down to her waist. Not many women could pull off that look, Thomas thought...not to mention that she wore a dress that seemed out of place in small-town
Maine
. The woman laughed and tugged at her escort’s coat and pointed to Thomas.

The man nodded and walked over to the table.

Jack growled. It was something the dog had not done since…

“Mr. Devereux So glad I caught you before you left for the day. Huge fan…huge fan of your book.” The ‘your book’ came out thickly, and sounded like ‘
yer
boook
.’ The Scottish accent was more than obvious.

Thomas tried to smile, but something about this man made his skin crawl. The anxiety was of a sort that he had not felt since…
the mountains
. Instead of smiling, Thomas turned away to soothe Jack as the man continued. “If I could get a signed copy…well that would indeed make my day, sir.”

Thomas could not ignore that, and so he forced himself to look at the man. The eerie smile and strange expression on the man’s face seemed to indicate both arrogance and danger. Thomas removed a book from the box and set it in front of him as he looked directly into the man’s shockingly blue eyes. “Sure. Who do I make it out to?”

“Do you believe what you’ve written in your book, Mr.
Devereaux
? I find it most interesting that you’ve written this particular piece as your first work. I mean…after what happened in
Canada
those years ago. Is there a connection? I’ve supposed that there may be.”

Ah
, Thomas thought.
There it is
. This person was not the first to find out about the strange deaths on the mountain and the subsequent rumors of a government cover-up. Alan Tucker’s suicide
after having already been killed
provided the perfect fodder for anyone interested enough to take a deeper look. Captain Russeux had fanned the flames after Alan’s supposed second death, shouting outlandish, (yet detailed), claims before dying in a mysterious car accident. He had mentioned Thomas in those claims, even though they had never met. He tied the deaths at Steven’s cabin with the deaths from the supposed helicopter crash but fell short on exactly how they were connected.

He’s a reporter
, Thomas thought, though the man didn’t look the part.

“I’d rather not talk about that…but I am happy to sign this for you.”

“Of course, Mister Devereux. My curiosity is stemmed from one of the victims of that most unfortunate series of events. I had been looking for him for...well...
many
years.”

Thomas froze, trying to hide the shock and the fear that coursed through him like cold electricity. He straightened. “What was his name, this friend of yours?”

The man chuckled. “
Och
...
well..I
don’t think it would be fair to name him. It is not a good idea to name the dead. I’m sorry to trouble you. I’ll speak no more of it.”

Jack suddenly growled. There was no mistaking the intent behind the menacing sound. "He is a lovely dog...though you might want to keep him locked up. Doesn’t seem to like folks.”

The man grinned…and Thomas wanted to wipe the grin off of his face.

“Would that be Jack? The same dog from your stories?” Jack growled again, and stood up, his tail curled.

He’s already read the book
, Thomas thought.

“Just a second,” Thomas said as he took Jack to the front counter, maneuvering as far around the man as he could. He handed Jack’s leash to the young cashier who said she would be happy to hold him for a few minutes.

Thomas came back to the table, but didn’t bother to use it to separate himself and the man. By now, he had the silver dagger easily accessible and was prepared to use it. Thomas knew it might be crazy to think what he was thinking—but the way Jack acted, the man’s accent, and his likely familiarity with Alastair bolstered his belief that the stranger was more than what he seemed and definitely dangerous.

“So, I’ll take just the one copy, then, please,” the man said, still smiling like a Cheshire cat.

The woman looked bored as she came to stand beside the man, tugging on his arm.

“Sure, to whom?” Thomas asked, remaining wary of the strange man and wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

The man smiled and leaned forward just a bit, moving closer to Thomas…though he new this man would not understand the relevance. “The name is
Camran
, Mr.
Devereaux
.
Camran
Shaw.”