The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (20 page)

"That's
a big ten-four," Tex replied. "I owe you a brown bottle, Sally."

"Make
it a case," Sally cooed. "And you got a date."

"Look
alive. Look alive," Windy City broke in. "We're approaching the
four-seven."

"Copy,"
Xochitl responded and straightened up in her seat, scratching her shoulder with
her chin. Her fifth wind was on the downslide, and she wanted to be done with
this job — even if it was for Bob's kid.

"We
should take the Harbor exit," Lucy said. "We can drive under the
bridge and park there."

"You've
been here before?" Xochitl glanced at her partner.

"Long
time ago," Lucy muttered. A faraway look passed over her face. "Gabe
and I tracked a dogfighting ring out of Long Beach. They would pay off harbor
security and use the underpass of the bridge to hold the fights."

"I
knew you had a hard-on for saving pinche perros." Xochitl gave Lucy a
little shove. "But wasn't that way out of your jurisdiction?"

"Yeah."
Lucy laughed. "We used to do a lot of stupid things."

"So,
nothing's changed then?" Xochitl smirked.

"Well,
you know, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks." Lucy nudged Xochitl back.
"See...see what I did there?"

"You
need to work on your material." Xochitl rolled her eyes and grabbed the
CB. "Tex?" Xochitl let off the PTT button.

"Is
this where we say 'Adios,' little loba?" Tex's drawl sounded melancholy.

"Yeah."
Xochitl's throat tightened, and she choked back a tear.

So many goodbyes. Should be used to it by
now.

But
people like Bob, Lefty and now Tex were reminders of how precious family was to
her, and that everything she was going through would somehow be worth it in the
end.

"Tell
him thank you," Lucy whispered.

"Little
Red Riding Hood says 'muchas gracias.'" Xochitl radioed back, smiling
smugly. "That goes for you too, Windy City, Sally."

"Always
enjoy pullin' the wool over Smokey's eyes." Sally chuckled.

"My
pleasure." Windy City's melodious voice flowed out of the radio. "Tex,
I'll catch you on the flip flop."

"Tex."
Xochitl clicked off the push-to-talk button, not knowing what to say to the
person who had saved her, Lucy's and probably Travis' life. "Vaya con
Dios."

"Y
tú también," Tex twanged, making Xochitl giggle. "I'm northbound and
down."

"Your
dad was right about truckers being the best kind of people." Lucy gave
Xochitl's shoulder a squeeze as they watched Tex's rig pass them.

El
Gallo veered off the 47 Freeway onto the Harbor Boulevard exit.
They drove the half-mile down Swimford
Street toward the old Catalina Express port in silence, each woman lost in her
own thoughts and exhaustion. This had been one of their more eventful trips. As
Xochitl took in the surroundings, it occurred to her that she'd never been to
San Pedro before. She had always wanted to go to Catalina Island, having heard
it was a beautiful place where golf carts were the only means of
transportation. The idea one could only drive a little car around was
fascinating to her, and she thought of how much fun it would have been to go
sea fishing with her papa and Miguel.

Papa
would have loved that.

But
the thriving tourist port to the magical island of golf carts and fancy fishing
was no more.

After
the initial Wereflu outbreak, there had been a mass exodus from the main island
through the Avalon Harbor. Since then, the channel to Catalina had been shut
down, essentially cutting off all the islands from the rest of the state. Now,
patrol boats kept a vigilant watch on the ports along the Southern California
coast. As with most deserted towns when the industry dries up, Catalina had turned
into a run-down, decayed ghostly version of itself.

Such
was the fate of the Catalina Express port.

"Turn
left there." Lucy pointed ahead to a dark area under the Vincent Thomas
Bridge. "It'll be a good place to stash the car."

Xochitl
wrinkled her nose. The idea of leaving El Gallo in such an unlit, seedy area
unnerved her. Nevertheless, she knew it was better than having someone spot
them carting a tranquilized Werebeast to a clandestine meeting with a venal boat
captain.

She
drove across the expansive asphalt roadway that had once served as a parking
lot to the ferry terminal. Several gaping cracks and a myriad of potholes
provided a challenging obstacle course. Xochitl maneuvered the rig cautiously so
as not to get stuck. She parked the car under the bridge and sighed
victoriously.

"Made
it!" Xochitl turned off the engine and looked at Lucy.

"Not
yet." Lucy opened the car door and stuck out one leg. "Now comes the
fun part." She exited the vehicle.

"Crap."
Xochi grabbed the keys and slid out from behind the wheel. Pausing to catch her
sixth wind, she shut the door with her hip and walked to Lucy, already standing
next to El Gallo's trunk.

"So..."
Xochitl stared at Lucy, waiting to hear her plan for getting Travis out of the
trailer and to the boat.

"So."
Lucy put her hands on her hips. "First, let's see if Travis is still
asleep."

Xochitl
unlocked the trunk, and Lucy grabbed Rollins' modified tranq gun. Tired and
achy, they plodded to the rear of the trailer. As before, Xochi unlocked the
latch while Lucy, gun readied, waited to see if Were Travis was sleeping like a
little Were puppy or ready to pounce and rip their throats out.

Xochitl
mouthed "three" and threw open the door. Nothing happened. She
chanced a look inside. Under the tunnel, without any lighting, the inside of
the trailer was a black void.

"I
need more than my phone light to see," Xochitl whispered over her shoulder.

"Will
this help?" a graveled male smoker's voice uttered.

"Holy
shit!" Lucy swung around and pointed her gun at the man.

"Whoa!"
The withered old man, dressed in a security guard uniform, raised his hands and
a large flashlight in the air.

"Who
are you?" Xochitl postured up by Lucy.

"Name's
Mac." The security guard shifted his weight from side to side. "I
work for Captain Azov. You're The Werewolf Whisperer, right? I'm here to help
you with...you know," Mac said apprehensively and nodded up to the horse
trailer.

Lucy
lowered the tranq gun and held her hand out for the flashlight in Mac's grip.
Which he gave to her. Without taking her eyes off him, Lucy handed the light to
Xochitl.

"Ready?"
Xochitl moved back to the opened trailer door.

Lucy
turned and nodded but kept Mac in her line of sight. "You might want to
stand back a bit," she said to Mac, hoisted the modified tranq gun to her
shoulder and aimed.

Xochitl
took a deep breath, switched on the light and shone it into the darkened
trailer. She panned around the right side of the rig where they'd last seen
Travis curdled up, and where he was still sound asleep. He'd rolled onto his
belly and was sprawled out on the trailer floor, looking almost comfortable
with his head resting on its side. He breathed heavily from his snout.

"Never
heard a Were snore before," Xochitl whispered. "Looks like we're good
to go. But we still don't have anything to put him on.

"I
got a flatbed hand truck you could use," Mac said.

"And
you didn't bring it with you, why?" Xochitl shut off the flashlight and
stared at the security guard.

"Umm..."
Mac hesitated answering. Xochitl eyed the man warily.

 
Something's
off.

"Well,
go get it," Lucy told Mac as if she were speaking to a dopey golden retriever.
"Go on."

"No
problem." Mac smiled weakly and left.

"There's
something off about that guy." Xochitl watched Mac trudge toward the dock.
"He seemed jumpy." Lucy looked equally wary.

"Well,
I did have a gun pointed at him." Lucy flicked her hand dismissively and
faced the truck.

"Yeah.
Still." Xochitl grabbed the loading ramp tucked in a slot between the
trailer doors and the rear bumper. She yanked on the grips and pulled, but the
ramp wouldn't budge. She yanked again. Nothing.

"¡Chingadera!"
Xochitl yanked a third time, but it was a no go. "Pinche ramp," she
muttered, slamming her hand on her thigh.

"Settle
down. Let's try together." Lucy took one end from Xochitl, and they pulled
with all their might. But the ramp wouldn't move.

"¡Ay
carajo!" Xochitl threw her hands up in the air as Lucy bent down and
checked under the trailer.

"Looks
like Travis' tantrum smashed part of the undercarriage along with the axle."
Lucy rose, slapping the dust off her sweats.

"So,
no ramp then." Xochitl sighed.

"Nope."

"Guess
we're doing this the old-fashioned way." Xochitl hopped up onto the end of
the rig then grabbed Lucy's hand to help her up.

They
approached Travis cautiously.

"You
take one arm. I'll take the other," Lucy said as she moved to Travis.

Xochitl
squatted down and hoisted Travis' arm, placing it around her neck. She glanced
over to Lucy who winced at the weight Travis added to her injured leg.

"You
okay?"

 
Lucy bit down on her lip but nodded "yes."

"On
three. One...Two...Three." They heaved Travis up by the armpits. "Oh...my...God..."
Xochitl groaned before dropping her side of the teen Were.

Lucy
let go of her side and bent over, panting. "That...was...a
bust...Grab...his..." She pointed to Travis' legs.

Xochitl
nodded and moved to the rear of the Werebeast. As if she were a powerlifter,
she squatted down, grabbed Travis' legs and waited for Lucy to grip his arms.

"Ready?"
Lucy asked. Xochitl nodded. "Go."

Again
they heaved Travis' body up with all their might. They managed to move him two
feet before Lucy lost her hold on him and dropped his head onto the steel floor
with a thump. They gritted their teeth, waiting to see if Travis would wake,
but to their relief his tongue lapped at his lips and he exhaled a deep yawn.

"This
calls for the carpet method," Xochitl said.

Lucy's
eyebrows squished together.

"You
know, roll 'em."

"Oh,
good idea," Lucy agreed.

Xochitl
shifted to Were Travis' side and sat on the floor, her legs bent for leverage.
She grabbed his other side and, as if she were exercising on a rowing machine,
pulled Travis' bottom half toward her so that his body was parallel to the
trailer opening. Exhausted, Xochitl fell on her back.

"Good
job," Lucy said.

Xochitl
pushed herself up to her feet.

They
rolled Travis to the edge of the truck. Like a dead fish, he flipped and
flopped side over side. To Xochi's surprise and relief, he never woke up.

"Now,
what?" Lucy asked, glancing over the edge of the trailer.

"We
roll him off."

"It's
about a two-foot drop." Lucy looked concerned.

Xochitl
shrugged.

"Okaaay."
Lucy shook her head and knelt next to Xochitl. They rolled Travis over the
edge.

He
landed on the pavement with a thud.

"Easy
peasy." Xochitl hopped off the side of the rig as Lucy slid gingerly off
its end. "So what're we gonna do with this heap of crap?"

"I
could take it off your hands," Mac said, rolling a hand truck toward them.

"¡Híjole!"
Xochi jumped. "For someone so creaky, you certainly are stealthy."

"Xoch."
Lucy scowled. "Sorry, Mac. It's been a long night."

"Like
I said." Mac eyed the trailer. "I'll take it."

"It's
in really bad shape," Lucy said. "It's got a broken rear axle and the
ramp is jammed."

"Not
a problem." Mac sized up the trailer.

Xochitl
approached the guard who kept the dolly between them.

"Xoch?"
Lucy asked.

Xochitl
wheeled the hand truck away from Mac to where Travis lay. "I don't want
it." She lined the flatbed dolly up with the Were. "Bob won't care."

"Guess
it's yours then." Lucy turned to Mac.

Mac
raised a hand up in thanks.

Xochitl
shrugged off the gesture, more preoccupied with Travis and the walk to the dock
than with the beat up horse trailer. She couldn't care less what some security
guard wanted.

Probably scrap it for parts.

A
truck like this could bring a good price, and on a less eventful night, she
might have called a few people she knew to chop it for her.

"Thought
we'd just flop him on the bed and roll him," Xochitl said to Lucy.