AllFreeNovel
Share Us
West followed me into the kitchen and sat at the small table while I reheated the kettle and steeped his tea bag. He didn’t seem eager to tell me the reason for his visit, so I didn’t press the issue. I applied the most important skill I learned in England—I talked about the weather.
“Didn’t expect to wake up to snow today,” I said, flinging the soggy tea bags into the trashcan with awkward zeal.
“No, it came as a surprise to us, too.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Usually, Rosalie can smell it before it starts.”
“Neat trick.” I set a mug in front of him and sat at the table. “Any milk or sugar?”
“No thanks. I’m trying to cut back on sugar.”
“Aren’t we all?” I sipped my tea and savored the two teaspoons of sugar I tasted. I was trying; I just wasn’t successful.
He took a sip from his mug. “We lost one of our own last night. Chutney.”
I didn’t recall meeting anyone named Chutney. “I’m sorry to hear that. I guess you’re not knocking on everybody’s doors to deliver the sad news.”
His face remained solemn. “Just yours.”
Lucky me. “What can I do for you, West?”
“Would you be willing to contact his ghost and tell us what happened?” Like everyone else in town, West was aware that I could communicate with ghosts, but that was the extent of his knowledge.
“You don’t know how he died?”
“Yes and no.”
Very illuminating. Glad the alpha of the Arrowhead Pack was as forthcoming as ever. “Was he ill?”
West shook his head. “He was out running with a few members of the pack last night, before the snow started.”
“He died in his wolf form?” That was unusual. Werewolves were stronger and more resilient in their animal forms.
West nodded. “He ended up in pieces on the ground.”
“An attack by another animal?” I didn’t want to contemplate what might be bigger and stronger than a werewolf and roaming in the woods by my house. Then again, I lived near the crossroads in Wild Acres, so anything was possible.
“An attack is the likely scenario, except nobody saw anything, and it looked more like he…” West seemed to be struggling for the right words. “It wasn’t a leg here and an arm there. His body was more like confetti.”
Werewolf confetti didn’t sound very celebratory.
“I can’t think of anything that would cause that,” I said. There was always the chance that an unfamiliar monster or demon had wandered through the crossroads at an inopportune moment for Chutney, a wrong place and wrong time scenario.
“Somebody suggested spontaneous combustion,” West said.
Not a theory that occurred to me. “Is that even possible?”
West shrugged. “It wouldn’t be my first thought, but at this point I see no reason to rule it out, given the state of the body.”
“I can see why you’d like to ask Chutney what happened to him.” I hesitated. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“When it comes to my pack, I’ll do whatever’s necessary.” And by ‘whatever’s necessary,’ he meant ask a favor of me. West had made no bones about the fact that he wished I hadn’t moved to Fairhaven.
“Lie down with dogs and get up with fleas, right?”
“You know you don’t have to say everything that pops into your head.” He tapped his temple. “Think of your head like Vegas. What happens there stays there.”
“For someone asking a favor of me, you could try being nicer.”
He closed his eyes, as though collecting himself. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Would you mind coming with me now? I’m worried the snow will make it harder.”
