Witching Moon (17 page)

When Falcon had brought Starflower into the group, she'd been excited by the contact. Excited at being with others of her kind. But she'd discovered that wasn't enough.

Falcon was the leader. The strongest man. And so far she was the strongest woman. She liked that position, at the top of the heap. And she didn't want anyone around who could challenge her. Like Sara Weston. Which meant pretty little Dr. Weston had to be eliminated. Her and her boyfriend, Adam Marshall.

He was dangerous, too. And totally expendable, as far as she was concerned. He'd rejected a good thing a few hours ago. And he was going to find out the consequences of that.

Starflower climbed out of her car and eyed the portable CD player. She wanted to tell Falcon to turn off the damn music, but that would give away her mood.

So she kept her simmering hostility to herself.

Her gaze zeroed in on the six-packs of beer sitting in a tub of ice. Tonight she needed a couple.

She'd spent the past several hours thinking of how to put the best possible face on what had happened at Nature's Refuge. She'd worked out a good story, and she was sticking to it. And really, most of it was true. There were just a few little details that she'd changed.

Usually she liked being the center of attention. Not this evening.

“How did it go?” Willow asked, taking in the scanty shorts and top she was wearing.

“Not exactly the way we planned,” Starflower tossed off as she walked toward the beer, snatched a can out of the ice and flipped it open. She took several swallows before she turned to face the group.

“He didn't want to get it on with you?” Grizzly asked.

“Of course he did. Then that Sara Weston came along and interrupted us.”

“Interrupted how?”

“I had him ready, willing, and able. Then she showed up, and he was embarrassed about getting caught with me.”

Of course, that wasn't exactly how it had happened. But she was pretty sure none of the other participants was going to get a chance to revise the story.

In the light from the camp flashlight, she could see Falcon watching her closely. She kept her gaze trained on him.

“So are you saying the park ranger is fixated on her?” he asked.

“Yes. And she's fixated on him, too. She lashed out with her mind and called up a storm when she caught me fooling with him. She was going to fight me for him. Only she didn't quite know how to do it, because she doesn't have anybody to teach her how to use her powers.”

“We could teach her,” Willow said.

“No!” Starflower caught Falcon's piercing gaze and lowered her voice. “I mean. She's strong. And dangerous. I felt it. Together they make a dangerous pair.”

“So how do we deal with them?” Falcon asked.

“I don't think either one of them would work out in the group.”

Razorback had been silent until now. “Because she's a rival?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

The question hit too close to home. “Because neither one of them is going to go along with our plans. Because both of them are too locked into the…the world of the regular folks in Wayland. They fit into the system. They don't have anything to gain by joining us,” she answered. She wasn't going to admit that she'd developed an intense hatred for Sara Weston and Adam Marshall. She wasn't going to explain that her personal plans included making sure they both ended up dead. At least not yet.

Falcon gave her a considering look. “Let's not do anything hasty. I think we ought to wait and see how things develop.”

“Just don't wait too long,” she said, making the warning low key because she could see that pursuing the subject was only going to reveal too much of her own feelings.

“Let's get back to the fun stuff. I've been waiting to tell you what I have in mind for later this evening. A little raiding party in town that I think you're going to like. But we need to wait until after midnight.”

Starflower was only half listening to the plotting session. She couldn't stop thinking about Sara Weston and Adam Marshall. Falcon might want to put off making a decision about them, but the matter was of more urgency to her. The sooner they were eliminated from the face of the earth, the better she was going to feel.

ADAM SPENT A
long restless night, unable to sleep. He knew that a satisfying run into the wild, untamed acres of the park would settle him down. He needed to turn off his human thoughts and submerge his personality into a simpler, more primitive being. He wanted to be a wolf—his only object to stalk prey and satisfy his craving for warm flesh and blood.

But he kept picturing Sara waking up early in the morning and going outside. Sara coming upon a wolf tearing apart a deer, and the image made his blood run cold.

So he tossed in his double bed, and got up early, thinking that running as a man would work off some of his excess energy. It wasn't the same, he conceded as he sped down the access road to the park entrance; then he did another couple of miles along the highway before heading home.

Back in his cabin, he pulled a beef roast out of the refrigerator and hacked off several slices, which he ate raw.

He was in the office early, waiting for the others to arrive, looking at each of his fresh-faced rangers with new eyes. When all the full-time staff had reported in, he called a meeting. The office was too small, so he used the room where they did nature programs for school kids. Moving aside an alligator jaw, he leaned back against the table at the front of the room.

“I want to talk about security,” he began, looking at each of the men and women sitting on wooden chairs ranged around him.

“Because there's been some trouble in town?” Rosie Morgan asked.

“You're referring to the truck incident?” Adam responded.

“And the break-in at the historical society,” Dwayne Parker added.

“When? What break-in?” Eugene Brody and Lisa Hardin asked, speaking at the same time.

“Last night,” Dwayne answered. It was obvious he'd enjoyed dropping that bombshell. “I found out about it because my mom is tight with Mrs. Waverly,” he said importantly.

Adam saw Amy Ralston shift in her seat. “Why would anyone break into the historical society?” she asked.

“Who knows? They don't keep any money there.”

“Just old books and papers,” Rosie said. There were nods of agreement around the room.

“Okay. I didn't know about that,” Adam said, thinking he was damn well going to find out what he could—later. “But I am concerned with a breech of security at this facility. Last night, someone came through the gate after hours claiming it was unlocked.” He looked toward Eugene, who had the duty of closing up the night before.

He saw the boy blanch. “I locked it,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Adam gave a tight nod. He was inclined to believe the kid. Eugene was a good worker. He was smart and conscientious. And he wanted to get ahead. Adam had been thinking that when he eventually moved on, Eugene would be a good choice to run the park.

“So then we have to assume that someone unlocked the gate after you left.” He looked at each of his staffers in turn, thinking that they all had keys to the padlock. Amy was the one who looked the most uncomfortable. What did she have to gain by letting Miss Sexpot onto the grounds?

“If anyone has something to tell me, we can speak in private,” he said. “Meanwhile, I have something else to discuss with you.”

The staffers waited for what he was going to say.

“I'm sure you're aware that Nature's Refuge is the site of a project being conducted by Dr. Sara Weston for Granville Pharmaceuticals.”

There were nods of agreement.

“She's been living and working at a cabin near the back entrance to the grounds.”

“The witch house,” Rosie murmured.

“What do you know about it?” Adam asked sharply.

She looked down at her hands. “Most people know about it. I mean that's what people call it.”

“You know it burned down,” he asked, putting the question in pretty bland terms, considering what had happened there.

“Yes.”

“So should I assume that everybody in greater Wayland knows about that except Dr. Weston and me?”

“Pretty much everybody,” Dwayne answered. “It's hard to rent the place, you know.”

“Yeah, well, considering its history, I've determined that living there might not be good for Dr. Weston's health. So I asked her if she wanted to move into the vacant cabin here on the grounds. She accepted the offer. And she's using the old workshop next to the cabin for her plant experiments. So you'll probably see her around. She's got the run of the facility.”

“Sure. Okay,” Dwayne answered for the group.

Adam went on to discuss work schedules, then went back to his office, closed the door, and made a phone call.

The sheriff picked up on the second ring. “Delacorte here.”

“I hear you've had some more trouble in town. At the historical society.”

“News travels fast.”

“What was taken?”

“I've got Mrs. Waverly working on that. So far, she hasn't told me about anything that sounds valuable.”

“Interesting. So what do you think it means?”

“I'd like to know.”

They talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. Adam rocked back in his chair, thinking that a wolf he knew was going to pay the society a visit after it got dark.

He thought about going over to Sara's cabin to tell her what had happened downstairs. Then he stopped himself. He wasn't going to charge over there this morning. He was going to give her time to settle in.

 

SARA
knew that Adam was deliberately staying away from her. Did he regret his impulsive invitation to move her to the main grounds of Nature's Refuge? Or was he simply giving her space? she wondered as she arranged her petri dishes on the long tables in the workroom.

She'd spent the morning giving the place a good scrubbing. It was dusty from disuse, but really it was a better place to work than the old cabin.

There was even a utility sink with running water.

As she arranged her equipment, she saw various staffers going about their duties. But they—and Adam—kept their distance.

In a way she was grateful. At the same time, she was disappointed.

But she held the disappointment in check while she considered her reasons for coming here. Fear had been one of her motivators. She'd never been comfortable at the cabin.

The dark foreboding atmosphere had played a part in that. And now she knew that people were watching the place. She'd felt it, hovering in the background of her consciousness. Adam had confirmed her subliminal impression.

Of course, it could be that the man he'd seen lurking around had only been the blackberry man. But she couldn't count on that. She couldn't even assume that the blackberry man wasn't going to turn from mild to aggressive. If it was him, what was he doing down there at night?

The danger had been a good reason for letting herself be persuaded to move onto the grounds of Nature's Refuge.

But she knew that wasn't her only motivation. The admission brought her back to Adam. She'd wanted to be near him. She'd welcomed the excuse. Even if she wasn't going to tell him.

 

THE
phone rang in the Nature's Refuge office at two in the afternoon.

“This is Austen Barnette,” the testy voice on the other end of the line announced.

“Yes, sir.” Adam's hand tightened on the phone receiver. He'd been expecting the call, and now he had to deal with it.

“I didn't authorize you to move Sara Weston into a cabin on the park grounds.”

“Do you disagree with the decision?” Adam asked, keeping his own tone mild.

“That's not the point. What did she do, come running to you right after she left my house yesterday?”

“I wasn't aware that she was at your home.”

“She's in Wayland because Granville approached me about using the park as a research site. I invited her over to find out how she was settling in. She seemed upset about the incident with the pickup truck.”

“Almost getting run over could do that to you,” Adam answered blandly.

“Why is she at your place?”

“She's not at my place. She's in the vacant cabin on the grounds.”

“That's what I meant,” the old man snapped.

“She was concerned about the history of the cabin where she was living,” Adam said. “And I was concerned, too.”

“What do you know about that?” the sharp voice on the other end of the line demanded.

“I know a mob killed a woman there.”

“That was years ago!” Barnette said, emphasizing each word.

“Uh huh. But I discovered someone lurking around the place this week.”

After several seconds of utter silence, the old man spoke, putting his retroactive stamp of approval on the action Adam had already taken. “You have my permission to do what you think best.”

“Thank you, sir,” he answered. “Can I do anything else for you?”

“Keep me informed of what's going on at the park.”

“Yes, sir. In my monthly report.” Adam hung up, wondering how long he was going to hold his present position.

 

“DR.
Weston?”

Sara looked up from her worktable to see a young, dark-haired woman wearing khaki pants and a ranger shirt standing in the doorway of the shed.

“Yes?”

“I'm Rosie Morgan. Mr. Marshall sent me over to see how you were doing.”

“I'm fine. Thanks.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No. But I appreciate your asking. This is an excellent work space.”

The young woman lingered.

“I love the way the park looks,” Sara offered. “The grounds are so well kept. And those plant identification signs are a nice touch.”

“Yes. We've had them for a few years. But a lot of them were missing. Mr. Marshall had a bunch of new ones made.”

Sara nodded.

“Did you hear about the robbery at the historical society?”

Sara set down the beaker she was holding with a clunk. “No. I didn't know about it.”

“Somebody smashed a basement window and got in. But they don't know what was taken.”

“Oh. Thanks for telling me,” she answered.

“We talked about it at the meeting this morning. And the break-in here, too.”

“The break-in?” she echoed, feeling her chest tighten.

“Well, Mr. Marshall said somebody came in after hours.”

Sara nodded, pretty sure she knew who that was.

The young woman glanced over her shoulder, then back at Sara. “There's a lot of bad stuff going on in town. Mr.

Marshall said that probably everybody in town knew about it, everyone but you and him.”

“Like what?”

Rosie lowered her voice. “Like, some people think the witches are back! There are old-time stories about them. But now people are talking like they're real.”

Sara felt the air freeze in her lungs, but she managed to say, “I'd like to hear more about them.”

Rosie examined her fingernails. “I shouldn't talk about it. I just thought you ought to know.”

“Know what exactly?”

The woman shrugged. “It's good that you're out here now. It's safer here than at that cabin.”

Before Sara could ask another question, the woman turned and hurried away. Leaving Sara standing with her heart pounding and wondering why the park staffer had said so much.

 

IT
was after one in the morning, which was perfect for Adam's purposes as he drove through downtown Wayland.

Leaving the business district, he headed for a house he knew was vacant. After pulling around the back of the garage, he cut the engine, then climbed out and sniffed the wind, sniffed for danger.

He was taking a chance. But he wanted to know who had been at the historical society. Slowly he took off his clothing and stood naked in the starlight. After stepping into the darker shadows cast by the house, he began the ancient chant that had been such a familiar part of his life since his teenage years.

The change from man to wolf was painful as always. It would be nice if there were some way to make it easy, he thought as muscles and bones contorted and transformed.

Still, he felt the old familiar exhilaration as he came down on all fours and looked around, sniffing the wind again. He had been born for this. It was his destiny.

He was a creature of the night. At home in his familiar surroundings, he breathed more deeply, suddenly excited by the prospects of the environment. The scents were richer now, more distinct. There was a squirrel in a tree several yards away. Fresh meat.