Werewolves and Wargames by Amy McNulty

Author:Amy McNulty [McNulty, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Fox Publishing
Published: 2023-06-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I finished my pancakes and informed Mayor Abdel and Chione that the conversation they’d witnessed me having with King was the start of me helping Inigo with this mystery.

Only, I may have fudged the “helping Inigo” part of it. We could both look into things and come together in the end to share our findings.

Even if Inigo hadn’t been so close to this case—so close that I still wasn’t entirely convinced he was in the clear—I doubted he wanted to work with me, anyway. Since I was an amateur, after all.

By the time I’d finished brunch with the mayor and Chione, there was no sign of King next door in Hungry Like a Pup when I peered in, just Jonathan and Frieda hard at work. Not that I’d expected him to stay in there another twenty minutes.

“Do you think I should check on Faine?” I asked Broomie as she flew us down the block. I kept my eye out for anything unusual.

Broomie nodded at first, then shook her head.

“I suppose she would be using this time without the kids and with her parents at the café to sleep,” I said to my broomstick. “I don’t think any of the werewolves besides the kids got a wink of sleep last night.” I nudged her toward the woods, the scene of the crime. “Let’s take a look at things in the light of day, and without everyone else crowding around. I bet Inigo flagged the path Echo took so Sheriff Roan could get a better look at it.”

Broomie nodded, and off we flew to the edge of town.

Broomie came in for a landing by the Team Blue makeshift headquarters first at the treeline in the clearing. In the distance, there was movement on Jeremiah’s farm, the farmer bringing crates out of a greenhouse to the back of his pickup truck.

The snow was sloshy in patches, paw- and footprints of the wolf and humanoid variety spread widely throughout the clearing, and especially around the makeshift hut. It had always been a slapdash job, but in the daylight, after so much activity, it was starting to wear down, a plank of plywood on one side not lined up correctly and threatening to make the entire thing collapse.

“There’s a little yellow flag in the snow there. I was right. I’ve seen those at the sheriff’s office. Those must be to mark Echo’s path last night after the game started.”

Broomie took us to the ground, my black boot crunching in the snow.

There was a circle of wolf pawprints behind the makeshift headquarters, the snow so worn, the mud beneath was showing in patches, like one wolf had paced here quite a few times. I peered inside the gaping hole in the plywood acting like a window of sorts and saw the Team Blue paintball ammunition and extra goggles and vests stacked inside still. Our yellow team flag still flew high behind a stack of tires, no team having been declared the winner last night.

“There are several sets of pawprints leading to this location,” I told Broomie.

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