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Hedge Row was Gun’s street. I debated whether to tell Alicia the truth. The teenager had nursed her mother through a supernatural-inflicted coma. She took care of herself while her father lived across the country and hermother worked insane hours in the city. Alicia was young, but she was wise beyond her years.
“I was there when it happened,” I said.
Ray groaned.
Alicia spun to face me. “Are you for real?”
I walked her mug to the table and set it in front of her with a spoon.
She gave the mug a cursory glance. “You forgot the whipped cream.”
“My mistake, Your Highness.” I hurried to the refrigerator to retrieve the can of whipped cream. Winter was the only time of year I kept such a luxury item on hand. Hot cocoa without whipped cream was like sex without an orgasm.
“What was the guy doing?” Alicia asked, as I passed her the can. “Did he try to hurt the lion, and the lion attacked him?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what happened. One minute the guy was checking out his reflection in the car’s side mirror, and the next minute he was dead.”
She added a small mountain of cream to her hot cocoa. “Sounds like he was bursting with pride. Get it?” She laughed at her own joke. “Ooh, and the collective noun for lions is a pride. Did you know that?”
I stirred two spoonfuls of cocoa powder into my own mug of warm milk. “I did know that.”
“There’s also rainbow flag pride, but that has nothing to do with being boastful. The other kind is when somebody’s ego goes off the rails. Right, Grampa?” She searched the air as though she might catch a glimpse of her grandfather.
“She’s smart as a whip,” Ray said.
“Now that’s boasting,” Nana Pratt pointed out.
My hand stilled, and I let the spoon fall to the side. “Shit.”
Alicia twisted to look at me. “That’ll be one dollar for the swear jar, please.”
“I don’t have a swear jar.”
“I have one at home. I’ll add it to that one.”
Ray chuckled. “My girl can hustle with the best of them.”
I dug through my purse until I located a dollar bill and placed it on the table in front of Alicia. “Let’s not make a habit of this,” I said.
“That’s what I keep telling my mom, but she keeps swearing all the same.” She folded the dollar in half and tucked it into her pocket. “Why’d you say that anyway? Did you burn your tongue?”
“Yes,” I lied. I didn’t want to burden her with my thoughts. It was one thing to correct her version of events; it was quite another thing to give the girl nightmares based on nothing but a theory.
Ray eyed me carefully. “You just lied to her. Why did you cuss?”
I shook my head and mouthed, “Not now.”
The witness to Chutney’s death said that the werewolf was particularly proud of his hunting skills that night. If the lion was some sort of pride demon at large, Chutney literally could’ve burst with pride. Bert had described an animal that sounded more like a lion than a dog. Spontaneous combustion suddenly wasn’t as ridiculous as I’d originally believed. But how on earth would I track the creature’s movements? Ask around to see whether anyone was floating their own boat more than usual lately? I was better off trying to hunt the animal than the behavior. Animals left tracks, except the inconsistent snowfall would make that difficult, and the wolves hadn’t picked up a scent. I’d have to find another way.
It was hard to focus on my conversation with Alicia when my brain was firing and wiring in all directions. I gave it my best though. The kid paid twenty-five bucks to be dragged uphill in the snow. The least I could do was give her my undivided attention for half an hour.
Alicia shivered. “Your house is cold.”
“Some of the radiators are busted.”
She hopped off her chair. “I’m going home where it’s warm. Thanks for the cocoa.”
“Alicia, I want you to promise me you’ll go straight home and stay inside, except to go to school.”
