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The Penguin Who Knew Too Much(63)

By:Donna Andrews


“Just no?”

“He said ‘No, sir,’ “ Vern said. “I raised my boys to have manners. And I asked if he was sure, and he said ‘Yes, sir.’ I figured that was it.”

“You were just going to let him go down to the police station by himself?” I asked.

“He's not a child anymore—he's eighteen. Old enough to make his own decisions, even if they’re stupid ones.”

I considered suggesting that maybe Charlie was old enough to do without a curfew, but I didn’t want to get into an argument.

“No one should ever talk to the cops without a lawyer,” Rob said, shaking his head. I was glad to know that Rob had absorbed that much wisdom from his time at law school. Given Rob's ability to get into trouble, it was probably worth the whole three years he’d spent learning it, even though he’d never gotten around to taking the bar exam so he could practice law.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t gone down there yet,” Vern said.

“I can,” I said.

“The hell you can,” Vern snapped. “He didn’t kill Lanahan. He's a decent kid.”

“A decent kid, yes,” I said. “But he's also a teenage boy. Based on my close observation of the species—”

“She means me, obviously,” Rob said, nodding.

“And several of our nephews who actually are teenagers,” I said. “Unless we’re talking mental age, in which case you still qualify—”

Rob stuck out his tongue at me.

“Anyway, based on my observation of the species, you blew it. Left him an out.”

“How do you see that?” Vern asked.

“You told him the chief wanted to see him,” I said. “And you asked him if he wanted you to go down with him. But you didn’t say to get himself down there today or else. So he's been procrastinating.”

“She's got a point,” Rob said. “When I was his age, that's exactly the kind of stupid thing I’d do.”

Actually, I thought it was more than an even chance that Charlie was dodging Chief Burke, but I wasn’t about to say that to his father.

“You could be right,” Vern admitted. “Eighteen or not, I just might tan his hide when I catch up with him. Of all the stupid—”

“Maybe you can help make up for it,” I suggested. “If you find him before the chief does, and convince him to turn himself in—”

“Right,” Vern said. “I’ll set the whole family on him.”

He strode out, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he went. I sat down on the top step, leaned against one of the railings, and closed my eyes. Peace. Quiet. Bliss.

“Poor kid,” Rob said after a moment.

“You mean the poor kid who still might be a murderer, no matter what his doting father thinks?”

“Typical,” Rob said. “Just because—whoa! Where’d he come from?”

I opened my eyes to see a wolf standing at the bottom of the porch steps, staring at me.





Chapter 34

I might have mistaken him for a large dog if not for the eyes. They were bright yellow and unsettlingly alien. Not like a dog's at all.

“Aren’t they supposed to be in cages?” Rob whispered.

“Yes,” I said. “But they’re not completely vicious. Remember, Rose Noire and Horace were taking them for a walk this morning.”

Of course, I suspected the wolves’ outing had taken place immediately after they’d been fed, and with close supervision from Dad and Dr. Blake. And I didn’t have Rose Noire's ability to coexist with all creatures, great and small.

I remembered, suddenly, something I’d read about wolves— that they interpreted staring as a form of aggression. So maybe it wasn’t quite the smartest thing in the world to be sitting here, exchanging stares with an unfettered wolf.

Except he wasn’t really staring at me, but at something near my feet.

Spike chose that moment to utter a low, threatening growl. Absolutely no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. The wolf lowered its head slightly.

I reached behind me and scrambled for something to use as a weapon. The wolf flicked its eyes at me, decided I wasn’t a threat, and focused back on Spike. My hands found something— Mrs. Fenniman had left her enormous black umbrella on the porch. It was three feet long and had a pointy end—it would have to do.

I grabbed the umbrella and whipped it around in front of me, leaping to my feet as I did so. “Go away!” I shouted.

Then I jumped down between Spike and the wolf. I’m not sure the umbrella would have worked all that well as a weapon, but while I was jumping and waving it around, I accidentally hit the button to unfurl it. The black fabric expanded with a whoosh and a thump, startling the wolf. Startling me and Spike, too. He began barking, and thanks to the umbrella, I had no idea what the wolf was up to. I bent down and snatched Spike up. He tried to bite me, but was too busy barking at the umbrella to aim well. I shoved him behind me.