“The mayor,” Jane said incredulously.
“Turns out moonlight does have a smell,” Annie said, “and Mr. Hickok recognized the pairing with peppermint from the shooting competition.”
Frank shoved his hands into his pockets and remained silent.
“Well, what do you know,” Jane said. “Frank, you okay? What’s wrong?”
Frank smoothed the frown off his face. His conversation with Annie kept rolling over in his mind, made worse every time she looked up at him with those bright eyes and flashed a smile, as though they were best of friends now—or maybe more. He’d wanted to be more, and for a short, magical time, Frank had thought that Annie was the one. Until it became glaringly obvious that she hated wolves.
Hated him. She just didn’t know it yet. (Frank was a garou, in case you didn’t catch that in his last chapter. He’d been one ever since he could remember.)
“Frank?” Jane pressed.
“Yeah.” He pushed a false cheer into his voice. “It’s good news. I’m just figuring out how we’re going to handle him quietly.”
“Or kill him loudly,” Annie said. “Lest we forget, he’s probably responsible for turning lots and lots of people into bloodthirsty wolves.”
An eager light shone in Annie’s eyes. Frank had to look away.
Bill put his hands out. “All right. We have no evidence of that. Plus, we need to interrogate him.” He turned to the rest of the group. “Now, I’ve arranged a meeting with the mayor under the pretense that we have some information about the night at the candle factory.”
“But we do have information,” Jane said. “Why would you tell him that?”
“Because if he knows who Charlie is and who he works for, then he knows who we are, and he knows we still hunt garou. But he doesn’t know that we know who he is.”
“That’s a lot of knows,” Frank said, because that kind of commentary was expected of him. His heart wasn’t in it, though.
“So if he thinks we have information we want to share, then he won’t be wanting to ambush us and kill us,” Bill said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “When we get there, we’ll place him under arrest. Then we’ll interrogate him.”
“But if we know he’s turned a bunch of people—and killed people—why wouldn’t we kill him?” Annie asked, sending another dagger through Frank’s heart.
“That’s not how we do things,” Bill said, a disappointed-teacher tone in his voice. Then he addressed everyone else, too. “No one’s drawing unless it’s absolutely necessary, understood?”
Frank and Jane nodded. Annie stared at Bill, seeming to deliberate, but finally, she nodded, too.
“Let’s go,” Bill said.
Jack McCall met them outside the hotel, even though no one had invited him or even warned him that they were going somewhere. How the heck did this guy always know where to find them?
“Hey, guys! Where are we going?” he asked brightly.
Frank rolled his eyes. “We’re going to practice for the show.”
McCall frowned quizzically. “There’s no show tonight.”
What, did he carry around a schedule?
Jack McCall pointed his finger at Frank. “You guys are doing . . .” He looked right and left and then cupped a hand next to his mouth. “You know, a woof thing.”
“Of course we’re not,” Jane said. “We’re doing the opposite of that.”
“So then you won’t mind if I come with ya.”
“Oh, we mind,” Frank said.
McCall frowned. “I guess that’s okay. I have plans to meet that reporter, Buntline, for a drink.”
Alarm rolled through Frank. The last thing they needed was McCall telling a reporter his own version of what happened at the P & G. What did he know about it anyway? He’d gotten scared and had run off, not doing anything useful. But they didn’t need any of it in the papers.
“Fine,” Frank said, blowing out a long breath, “you can tag along, but don’t get in our way.”
The group departed for the mayor’s house.
It was darker than it should’ve been for five o’clock. Thunder clapped as the gang stood at the entrance of the mayor’s mansion.
Bill raised the knocker and banged it on the large oak door.
After a few moments, it opened, creaking loudly, and there stood a butler wearing a drab uniform and an even drabber expression.
“You know, you can grease them there joints,” Jane told him.
He looked her up and down and didn’t answer.
Jane jerked her head toward Bill. “Wild Bill Hickok, here to see the mayor.”
The butler gave a single nod. “The mayor is expecting you.”
The gang started forward, but the butler put up his hand. “He is only expecting Mr. Hickok.”
“Mister, we’re all coming in.” Jane pushed the side of her jacket out of the way and let him get a look at her gun.
“If you’ll follow me,” the butler said, turning around and raising a lantern. It was weirdly dark inside, but Frank figured maybe that was because of the dark skies outside, and the dark wood paneling on the walls.
The butler led them down a hallway and into a parlor. “Please sit. The mayor will be along in due time.”
The gang sat down, except for Jane, who opted to stand. “Haven’t they ever heard of more candles?” she asked.
“Maybe there’s a shortage after the factory thing,” Frank suggested.
“Ha,” Jane said unenthusiastically.
Suddenly there was another candle. “I never go anywhere without an emergency candle,” Annie said.
Right then, the door to the sitting room opened, revealing a silhouette wearing a top hat.
Everyone jumped, and Annie whispered, “I knew it!” even though Frank had no idea what she thought she’d known.
The silhouette held the lantern closer to his face. It was the mayor. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Not at all,” Frank said as his heart made its way from his throat back to his chest.
“Please excuse the lack of lighting. I’m afraid we have been hit by the candle shortage.”
Jane snorted, and Frank shot her a look.
The mayor crossed the room and sat in the largest chair near the fireplace. “Now, what is this information you have for me?”
Bill stood up. “Well, Mr. Mayor, our information involves you.”
“Is that so?” the mayor said.
“We think you could shed some light on the happenings at the P and G factory.”
“How can I shed light when there’s a candle shortage?” The mayor smiled at his own joke.
“Look, we’re not here to waste time. We know you’re a garou, and not only that, we know you were involved with the tragedy at the candle factory. I’m still deputized, and you’re under arrest.”
“Am I?”
Bill stroked his mustache. “But I’m willing to work with you if you—”
Suddenly the room fell into darkness, except for Annie’s tiny emergency candle. There was a scuffle, a muffled yelp, and the squeak of a door opening and then slamming shut.
“Don’t let him get away,” Jane shouted.
Bill lit the mayor’s lantern and turned it all the way up. Light flooded the room.
“He’s gone,” Jane said.
“Well, let’s split up,” Bill said. “Jane, you and McCall take the front of the house. Annie and Frank, the back. I’ll search the attic.”
Frank glanced at Annie, wishing he’d told Bill he didn’t want to be paired with Annie. Sure, on one hand, she was really good at everything, and going with her meant they’d probably catch the bad guy ten years before everyone else caught up. But on the other paw, she hated wolves and was it any surprise that he was wildly uncomfortable being alone with her now?
It was too late to argue.
Frank and Annie held their guns at the ready as they ran toward the back of the house. They found a secret door through the kitchen, but it was locked. Frank didn’t hesitate, nor did he think of the damage it would do to his shoulder: he threw himself against the door, and he and Annie burst outside.
But there was no sign of Mr. Top Hat, er . . . the mayor.
“You go that way, and I’ll go this way,” Annie said. “We’ll meet at the front.” And because they still had not learned their lessons about horror-movie tropes, they split up, each of them covering half a perimeter of the house.
They met in the front, but neither of them had spotted the mayor.
“I got him.” Jane was coming from off the street, the mayor in front of her, his hands tied behind his back. “He was halfway to who knows where when I caught up with him.”
Jack McCall was trailing behind her. “He was more like half a block away.”
“He was not,” Jane said with a scoff. “He was practically to the train station.” She turned to Annie and Frank. “Don’t listen to Jack. He’s got, like, no depth perception, and he obviously can’t judge distance.”
“Ffffffft,” McCall said.
Jane led the mayor back into the house. “Hey, servant guy, get us some gawl-durned candles!”
A few minutes later they were in the parlor again, which looked much less scary in the light. Frank lit a few more candles for good measure.
“Now look, Mayor,” Bill said, his hat in his hands. “You’re headed for a hangin’. But I can lessen your sentence if you help us.”
“I’ll never help you,” the mayor said.
“Frank, shoot a toe off.”
Frank tried not to flinch as he drew his gun.
“Okay, maybe I’ll help you.” The mayor shifted his tied hands. “What do you want to know?”
“Why did you try to kill Charlie?” Bill asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? I found out you all were still hunting garou and that Charlie was heading up the whole operation. Of course I’m going to try to get rid of him.”
Frank tried to hold himself back from striking the mayor.
Bill leaned forward. “If you’re running the Cincinnati area, then who’s running you?”
The mayor narrowed his eyes and smiled. “If I told you that, I might as well hang myself.”
“Why?”
“Because the Alpha would kill me,” the mayor said. “Or send one of the thralls to do it.”
“Thralls?” Jane asked.
But as the mayor opened his mouth again, Jack McCall stomped over and got in his face. “Tell us who the Alpha is,” he yelled, spittle flying.
The mayor laughed and looked at Bill. “Boy, does the Alpha have it out for you.”
“Tell us!” McCall raised his fist, and Frank and Bill lunged to stop him, but they were too late. Jack McCall punched the mayor, splitting his lip.
The mayor spat blood, and maybe it was Frank’s imagination, but his teeth looked a little longer.
McCall struggled, but Frank wasn’t about to let him hit the mayor again. “This isn’t how we do things.”
“Watch out!” Annie cried, as the mayor dropped his head and the veins on his neck bulged.
Frank and Bill both leapt back, releasing McCall.
“Calm down,” Bill said soothingly. “Just stay calm.”
“Wooo,” Frank suggested, but it did no good.
The mayor growled as the bones in his feet and legs cracked, bending backward.
“You need to stop this,” Bill said. “If you turn, you won’t be giving us much choice.”
The mayor took two deep breaths and the transformation slowed, but then a shot rang out. The mayor’s body went limp, shifting all the way back to human.
McCall’s gun was smoking. Beyond him, Jane’s eyes were wide with horror, and Annie’s fists covered her mouth. Even Bill seemed shaken.
Frank rounded on Jack McCall, as he lowered his gun. “What,” Frank growled, “did you do that for?”