THE WOLF INFESTATION

Chapter Two

That day, the rain had held up over night, but the fog hadn't cleared. Odd. It always rained every morning in Red Creek, except in the late summer.

I was driving Quinn and Willow to work, with a thorough scolding about keeping their mouths shut. I told them about what had happened at the clinic and I knew Quinn had the habit of talking just a bit too much.

"We get it! Keep our mouths shut." Willow sassed. "This is the most excitement since the bridge flooded over."

I frowned at her through the rear view. "Someone died Willow."

She hated being scolded and in the wrong. "I know! I'm not saying it's a good thing..." and she mumbled the rest.

Quinn chewed on her lip the way she always did when she was thinking deeply about something. "And they found him naked? In his yard?"

I clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. "I know!" I agreed with her skepticism. "Something doesn't seem right."

"Maybe someone tried to poison him?" Willow said from the back.

"Maybe." Quinn muttered. Then in a normal tone she said. "I don't know though. What did anyone have against Paul?"

"Told you that man had something coming out of him." I added. That was no poisoning.

"What's with all those motorbikes?" I asked when I had parked in the diner's gravel parking lot.

Willow cursed. "I hate those stupid bikers and those stupid truckers. All that extra work. I'll take Frank over them any day."

"No you won't." Quinn said getting out. "You hate Frank."

I counted sixteen bikes and all sixteen of the owners filled up the diner. They were rowdy and the two waitresses that were covering the early shift were kept busy. They silenced as we stepped in, the bell above the door announcing our arrival and went back to what they were doing. I took one good look at them, all leather, all tattoos and all burly. I looked away quickly, not wanting to draw any attention.

I sat at my usual place and searched for Frank's usual glare. He wasn't there. Odd. He never missed breakfast.

"What do you want?" Quinn asked when the rush had cooled down.

"Just coffee." I said, resisting the urge to look around.

"Not hungry?"

"Not after what I've seen."

Quinn poured me a cup and I thanked her. I dug around in the pocket of my pink pinned striped dress and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I lit one and shoved the empty packet back into my pocket.

It didn't take long for Bob - the cook - too squeeze himself out the narrow kitchen door, "What have I told you about smoking in here Adora?"

"Sorry." I said to Bob's back as he went back to the kitchen.

I was finishing my coffee, cigarette between my fingers, when one the bikers came over. He was just as large as the rest, if not taller. Covered in tribal tattoos from wrists to neck, with a thin wife beater that barely covered the ones on his chest and abdomen. He wore black jeans and boots. His hair was faded at the sides and back and kept lengthier at the top.
He too, took me in before he spoke, "Got another one of those?"

I shook my head, "Nah, this is my last one."

"What's a candy striper like you doing smoking anyway?" His voice was low and smooth, not as deep as I had expected for a man of his stature.