“Thank you for your time, Ms. Jorgens.” I stood.
“If you can figure out why…” She bit off the rest of the sentence, her mouth a straight line.
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all anyone can do. But sometimes it’s not enough.”
Lonna met me at the diner, where we grabbed another cup of coffee and compared notes.
“How’d it go with Louise’s daughter? What’s her name?”
“Honey. And there’s a little girl that I didn’t see at all.”
“I bet all the parents are keeping their kids close.”
“From what I’ve seen of the werewolves, I don’t blame them. Who knows what they’d do on a hunt?”
Lonna shuddered. “That’s not a pleasant picture.”
“Since we’re on the topic of unpleasant pictures, she got a phone call while I was there, and the junkyard guy told her they’d found Louise’s car, and it was messed up pretty bad.”
“Ooooh, any chance we could see it?”
“I got her permission.”
“Good.”
“And how did things go with Matt?”
“He wasn’t there. His secretary said he hadn’t been in all week.”
I lowered my voice. “But hasn’t he been on the hunt?”
She shrugged. “We’ll have to ask the guys. But first, let’s go see the car.”
I didn’t ask where she’d been while I spoke with Louise, but I could guess. Talking to Matt’s secretary would only take so long. I glanced out the window as we drove out of the square and saw Peter Bowman, his eyes narrowed in our direction, at the door of his office.
Chapter Twelve
Ricky’s Junk Yard was just outside of the subdivision boundaries and farther along the twisted mountain road we had taken to get up to Crystal Pines. When we pulled up, Ricky himself came out to greet us.
“And what’ll you ladies be wantin’ to look at?” he asked as he gave each of us the once-over. His narrow face betrayed only polite interest, but I got the feeling he figured we’d be a waste of time.
“We’re interested in a car you just towed back here this morning,” I said. “It belonged to Louise Jorgens.”
His eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “And how’d you know that?”
“Honey told me.”
“Ah, so you’ll be the old man’s granddaughter. And this is the friend?”
“This is Lonna Marconi, a social worker from Little Rock.”
“Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand and turned the full force of her smile on him.
“Well, now, I normally wouldn’t mind you ladies takin’ a look, but Sheriff Knowles said no one was to touch the car ’til he gets his guys out here to check it out. He was already pretty pissed I’d moved it.”
“We’ll only be a moment,” I said.
He chewed on something. Gum, I hoped. “He was pretty insistent.”
“I’m sure he was,” said Lonna. “Can you at least tell us where you found it?”
“Honey mentioned it was between town and my place.”
“Yep. It was off the road a little ways in the woods. I’d’ve never seen it if it hadn’t caught the glare off the rising sun.”
“And what were you doing on that road?” I crossed my arms and tried to look intimidating.
“The old man paid me to drive that way a couple times a week and take care of any dead animals in the road. I thought I’d do it outta respect for his memory.”
“Oh. Thanks, then. I appreciate it.”
“Are you sure we can’t take a little peek?” Lonna was in full charm mode now. “We don’t even have to touch it, just take a look.”
Ricky rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, if y’all don’t touch it, I guess I can let you take a peek at it.”
“Thank you.”
He led us through the wood cabin that served as an office to the “back lot”, a dirt slope strewn with vehicles in various stages of disembowelment and dismemberment. Louise’s car, a white domestic hatchback, was near the edge. The crumpled front end and dented sides told us it had gone off the road, rolled, and crashed into a tree or other large obstacle.
“Wow,” I said. “How in the world did she survive that? That’s why she was in such bad shape when she showed up at my place.”
Lonna was already scribbling her number on a piece of paper. “Would you do me a favor, Ricky?”
“Sure, ma’am.”
“Would you give me a call and let me know what the police say about the car?”
His jaw dropped. “I don’t know if I can do that, ma’am.”
She looked up at him through her long eyelashes. “It would mean a lot to me if you would.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll see what I can do.” Something caught his eye at the back of the lot, and his face went white. “I’ve got to do some paperwork, ladies. The gate in the fence over yonder is unlocked. Just remember, don’t touch the car.”
He scurried back into the office, and I turned to see a woman in a long white dress gliding through the cars. My first thought was that it was the angry ghost of one of the vehicles’ former owners, but then Lonna narrowed her eyes.
“Isn’t that the chick who was with Leo in the restaurant on Tuesday? What’s her name, Kyra? The third —”
“Yep, that’s Kyra Ellison.” I interrupted her before she could blurt out the word.
She came closer, and I saw she wore a white sundress. So much for the ghost. But she did look pissed.
“You!” Her shout was almost a shriek. “You’re the one.”
“One what?” I couldn’t tell if she was looking at me or Lonna.
“Man-stealer!” She reached into the pocket of her dress, and Lonna grabbed my arm.
“Run!”
We ran through the gate, hopped in the Jeep, and Lonna gunned the engine. We peeled out of the gravel parking lot, and when I looked back, I couldn’t see her.
“What was that about?”
Lonna relaxed her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “I think she’s jealous.”
“Of who? Could she be sleeping with Peter, too?”
“I think she was jealous of you, Joanie.”
“Me? That’s a preposterous idea. Why should she be jealous of me?”
“Because her boyfriend is sleeping at your house right now.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”
“Just what you need, a territorial bitch of a woman who can turn into a predator.”
“I think most of us can when we’re threatened.” Honey Jorgen’s red-rimmed eyes came to mind. “Or when it’s our kids in trouble.”
Gabriel had lunch ready for us when we returned. Although the dark circles under their eyes and shadowed jaws betrayed the fact they had only had a couple of hours of sleep, Leo and Ron seemed to be in good spirits.
“How are you so awake?” I looked at each of them as they dug in to the Philly-style cheesesteak sandwiches. “I would be dead after that little sleep.”
Leo spoke around the bite in his mouth. “We were in residency, remember? It’s no worse than a call night.”
