Read In Sheep's Clothing Online
Authors: Rett MacPherson
In Sheep's Clothing (26 page)
Rudy came in then. “We're all set. We just have to wait for Colin to get his things in the truck.”
I went outside on the porch to soak in my aunt's farm one last time before heading home to Missouri, keenly aware that if Aunt Sissy was dying this might be the last time I ever saw it. And her. Though I would have opportunities to see her at reunions and weddings. But I might not make another trip up here before she actually â¦
I saw Uncle Joe come around the corner. He waved to me. I took the steps down and then walked around the corner of the house. “Uncle Joe. Thanks for putting us up for the week.”
“Yeah, you caused quite a stir in town.”
“Sorry.”
“So, you think Sissy's going to go back to normal now? You think you got to the bottom of whatever was bothering her?” he asked.
I glanced back at the house. “Yeah, I think so.” The birds chirped in the distance, their music so soothing and so comforting. “Uncle Joe.”
“Yes?”
“Just ⦠be nice to her every now and then. For no reason,” I said. What else was I supposed to say? It wasn't my place to tell him that she was dying. If she wanted him to know, she'd tell him. If I told him without her permission, she might not ever speak to me again. And she meant far too much to me to jeopardize our relationship.
“All right,” he said and nodded.
I was going to reinforce how important it was not to kill the wolf, but decided not to. It wouldn't do any good. If he was going to kill her, he'd kill her. Nothing I would say would matter. People don't change their minds about things overnight or because some nosy whippersnapper from out of town made them “see the light.” That just didn't happen.
Colin came out of the front door with a burst of energy, threw his suitcase in the back of the truck, and said, “Let's go.”
“Bye, Uncle Joe.” I gave him a firm hug.
“Ya'll drive careful.”
“We will.”
Colin held up a hand to Uncle Joe. “Thanks for having us.”
Uncle Joe nodded.
I got in the cab of the truck and sandwiched myself in between Rudy and Colin, just like when we were driving up here. Only this time I had a full-sized quilt on my lap. And a cooler full of dead fish in the back. We waved at Aunt Sissy standing on the porch, and Rudy gave a tap on the horn just as we pulled out of her driveway.
“We taking Iowa or Wisconsin home?” Colin asked.
I rolled my eyes.
“For God's sake, take Wisconsin so he'll have plenty of places to eat.”
“All right,” Rudy said.
Within a split second, Colin gasped and Rudy slammed on the brakes. “Is thatâ¦?”
When my head had recovered from whiplash, I looked in the bush on the side of the road. A head popped up and the golden eyes caught the sun. Then the wolf stood and looked into the woods. Then back at us and then across the road.
Nobody in the cab of the truck said a word. We all held our breath. Suddenly two little furry fat wolves crossed the road as the female wolf sort of jaunted back across the road to try and help her cubs scurry across. I knew that a wolf this close to civilization was facing an uncertain future at best. If hunters, poachers, or farmers didn't kill them, a car would. It was sort of inevitable. The problem with wild animals was once they became used to humans, then they were more likely to be killed. The passing cars no longer seemed all that dangerous, and they stopped to linger on the road.
Rudy, Colin, and I all seemed to let out a collective breath. Rudy gave the truck gas and started to go. I reached for the camera in the glove box, twisted around in the seat, and got a picture out the back window. The mother wolf just stood there for a second. As if trying to convey something to me. She seemed to be as enthralled with me as I was with her.
I kept staring out that rearview side mirror until I could no longer see her. I knew that I would never forget her. Just as I would never forget Anna Bloomquist. How could I? The two were so intertwined that I would never think of one without thinking of the other.
I turned around finally. Rudy put his hand on my knee. “She'll be all right,” he said. “She's survived this long.”
“Yeah, maybe she'll head back north. Or just become invisible again,” Colin said.
“Maybe,” I said.
“Or maybe your uncle will come around,” Colin said.
I rolled my eyes.
“Look, I'm trying to help,” he said.
“I know.”
The annoying electronic notes of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” played from Rudy's belt clip. He reached for his cell phone and glanced at the window. “It's your mother,” he said.
“Hmm,” I said and glanced at Colin as if to indicate that he was in trouble of some sort.
“Hello?” Rudy said. He came to an intersection and looked confused. Colin and I both pointed in the direction to go. The only problem was we pointed in
different
directions.
“No, it's left,” I said.
“No, it's not,” Colin argued. “He needs to make a right out of here.”
“If he made a right he'd end up in Duluth. He needs to go left.”
“No, Torie. Look, I am a man. And if there's one thing I know, it's directions.”
“Look, Bozoâ”
“Torie,” Rudy said.
“What!”
“That was ⦠your mom.”
“Yes, I know, you said that already. What did she want?” A sinking sensation settled in my chest and stomach. My breath caught in my throat. “What is it?” I persisted.
“It's your boss. Sylvia,” he said.
“What about her?”
“She's dead.”
“That's not possible. Sylvia is immortal,” I said.
Rudy looked over my head at Colin and I could tell by the seriousness of his brown eyes that he wasn't joking.
“No, Torie. She's dead. Elmer's got the morgue holding off until you can get there,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“They're waiting for you to decide on the funeral arrangements.”
“Why?” I asked, tears rolling down my cheeks for the third time in two days. “Why me?”
“Because she left you everything,” he said. “Her money, her possessions, the Gaheimer House. All of it.”
Blood Relations
Killing Cousins
A Misty Mourning
A Comedy of Heirs
A Veiled Antiquity
Family Skeletons
IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING
. Copyright © 2004 by Rett MacPherson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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First Edition: February 2004
eISBN 9781466888821
First eBook edition: November 2014