Hank turned. “At The Shack later.” He flashed a smile and winked. “I hope you’ll come.”
The hallway emptied. Clara stumbled backward, using a wall to brace the heaviness of her pounding chest. Even the simple task of taking in air required thought. He’d literally taken her breath away.
Hank wasn’t that much different from every other boy she’d met in the past few years. He wasn’t even smart. Her eyes widened. None of that mattered, though. There was no getting around it. There was no doubting it. There was no need for stimulating conversation. There was no need for fancy settings. She liked Hank Waverly and wanted to be with him.
Chapter 6
Jenny Fawn glanced over a map. “I’ve marked all the known reported sightings in the past hundred years.” She removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes. “Are we sure this isn’t another wild goose chase?”
“I doubt geese have anything to do with it,” her husband chuckled. “Are all those confirmed to be...”
“We can’t confirm anything,” she huffed. “I’ve researched all the regional legends. I’ve pulled all the data. There are no complete records. This isn’t going to be easy, George. Things are different this time.”
Mr. Fawn frowned. “It’s never easy, Jenny. If it were, we’d never need to move. There has to be a connection between the sightings and the cluster of unsolved disappearances in the area somewhere.”
“People go missing all the time,” Mrs. Fawn argued. “They could be runaways for all we know.”
“One or two perhaps, but not this many.” Mr. Fawn stood, placing a few more red dots on the map. “That forest...”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a forest was used for cover by mass a murderer.” She rubbed her husband’s back gently. “It could all be coincidence.”
“What if it’s not?” Mr. Fawn asked, staring off into the distance. “What if all the data is right?”
“Then we need backup,” Mrs. Fawn answered. “This is an unknown for us as well. First we need to figure out, why here? Why now?”
Mr. Fawn nodded. “The legends in these parts are all similar. We are missing the one that connects them together.”
“We could talk to the locals,” she replied.
“You know that’s against policy,” Mr. Fawn snapped. “If anyone found out why we are really here...”
“No one will,” Mrs. Fawn interrupted.
“I’m not so sure,” Mr. Fawn grumbled. “We’ve been barely one step ahead for years now.” He turned to face his wife. “We need to make sure Clara doesn’t go into the woods until we know more.”
“That’s a tall order,” Mrs. Fawn sighed. “The forest touches every blasted building in this town. We don’t even know if the woods are dangerous yet.” She paused. “She’ll have questions.”
“I know,” Mr. Fawn mumbled. “We can’t give her any answers when we don’t have any: plausible deniability. Trust me, now is the best time.”
“All right,” Mrs. Fawn agreed. “We’ll handle it after school. Any ideas on how to bring up the subject?”
“I’m working on it,” he answered. “We’ve had all the usual safety talks with her already. This has to be on another level.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jenny Fawn chuckled. “I’m sure this will make for an evening of amusement.”
Chapter 7
Shack was an accurate description of the place. There was no second story or basement. It was a single structure placed in the perfect location. A backdrop of trees clung dangerously close to the exterior walls. The forest.
A silver bell rang the moment the door opened. It was made of the same weathered wood as the rest of the small ice cream parlour. In any city, a similar style joint would have been broken into unmercifully. Crime in smaller towns was apparently non-existent.
Clara shook her head. It didn’t matter how safe she felt, she couldn’t get her head around leaving the front door unlocked. There were people confident with their neighbours enough in the world to do just that, though. Blind trust made no sense.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m still deciding,” Clara replied, moving closer to the display counter. At least there was a good assortment of ice cream flavours. She almost expected the standard three to be the only options. The names were different, though. “Wolf’s mane. Cookie Doe. Tiger’s Tail.” She raised an eyebrow. “What’s with all the animal references?”
The clerk stared back at her, his mouth hanging open for a moment. “I didn’t name them. I just serve them.”
Clara rubbed one hand through the back of her hair. “Right. Sorry. I figured there was some amusing story to go along with it.” She chuckled.
The clerk’s face remained stern. “Did you decide?”
“I’ll just have a regular soda,” Clara replied. “Whatever you have available is fine. Thanks.”
“You came here for a soda?” the clerk said, eyes slanting.
“I’m meeting someone,” Clara admitted. “I don’t want to order anything too big before they show up.”
The clerk nodded. “You want ice with that... soda?”
“Ice is good,” Clara replied. “I like ice.” She grabbed her glass, heading to one of the few tables. She shivered, staring at the door, feeling the weight of the clerk’s gaze on her back. It was entirely possible she’d been tricked and nobody was coming. She’d let her guard down. That was a classic new-girl prank.
A bell rang. “The usual, Stu,” Hank said. “Hey. You made it.” In one swift motion a chair swung around backward, allowing him to straddle it. “I’m glad.” He winked, smirking.
He was different. The first exchange they’d had, he seemed almost shy, genuine. Here, with a group of friends behind him, he was confident almost to the point of arrogant.
“Don’t tell me you are having just a soda,” Hank chuckled. “This place is famous for their ice cream. You have to try every flavour.”
Clara offered a meek smile. “The names are a bit strange, don’t you think? I’ve never seen so many animal named varieties.”
“It’s pretty awesome,
