A Wolf After My Own Heart MaryJanice Davidson (children's ebooks online .txt) 📖

“Last week? How fortuitous!” Nadia exclaimed. To Oz: “The day after the plane crash.”

“I know, Nadia.” He was getting a distinct herbivore scent from Debbie, who was so short her head didn’t even come up to his shoulder. Weredeer, probably. Maybe wereantelope?

“Touchy, touchy.” Nadia turned back to the assistant. “And here you are, poor darling, trapped like a fly in honey, stuck with the grunt work. So typical of upper management.”

Gulo’s assistant waved her hand to indicate semipacked boxes, the desk, the room. “Yeah, needless to say, we’re running a little behind. Most of this we’ll have to ship to his new job.”

“Which is…?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. He keeps telling me he’ll zap me his forwarding address, but…” She shrugged. “Like I said. We’re all running behind.”

“What about his open cases?” Oz asked. “Did they get reassigned, or…”

“He doesn’t have any.”

“Really?” From Annette. “Is that common?” (Trick question; Annette knew damned well it wasn’t common.)

“No, actually, but it’s Dr. Gulo, so.” Debbie shrugged again. “He practically lives here. Anyway, he closed them all. The Smalls case—the one you were asking about—was the last.”

“Gosh, efficient and timely,” Nadia chirped.

“Ridiculous bullshit!”

Oz nearly jumped through the wall. Berne had some lungs when he wanted ’em. “Calm down, Magnus.”

Magnus put his hands behind his back, possibly so he wouldn’t pick Debbie up and shake her like a maraca. “We require answers, lass, d’you understand? Lives are at stake!”

“And you. Um. You got them. The answers.” All the color had fallen out of Debbie’s face as she shrank from a grumpy, shout-y Magnus. “He’s not here. I mean…maybe he’ll stop by on Monday to get the rest of his stuff. I could.” She stopped, coughed. Swallowed. “I could give him a message.”

“He won’t be stopping by,” Oz said. He turned to Magnus and raised his eyebrows. Apologize, would you? “He’s long gone from here.”

“I’m sorry, lass, I didna mean to bark.”

“It’s okay,” Debbie said, visibly relieved. “Dr. Gulo’s been on edge, too, what with trying to close all those cases in time for him to take a new job. And that put everyone else on edge.”

Oz doubted job stress was responsible for Gulo’s mood this week. And he was pretty sure the guy was suffering from OCD. Which might work in their favor—Gulo clearly couldn’t leave any of his work unfinished; his disorder wouldn’t let him. Even if it meant fabricating evidence. Nadia was already busy with her phone, doubtless requesting any additional records about Gulo, his cases, and his background that she could get her talons on.

“Plus, it’s hard for him, leaving his family behind in Shakopee. Guess he wanted a new start.” Debbie looked down at some of the pictures she’d been packing up. Gulo with family. Gulo with more family. Gulo in front of a car that had been washed and waxed so thoroughly, if you even looked at it you’d slide off. “I don’t know… We were all surprised when he gave notice. I thought he loved it here.”

Oz could actually hear the tendons in his jaw creak as his mouth fell open. “Gulo lives in Shakopee.”

Debbie looked up. “Yeah. His whole family does. He’s fifth or sixth generation, I think it is. His family’s descended from the Native Americans down there, what d’you call them? Cherokees?”

“Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux,” Annette prompted, looking as poleaxed as Oz felt.

“Yeah, them.”

Yeah, them. Debbie, like Dev and Caro, was too young to grasp the seriousness of the riot, then and now, and the centuries of bloodshed underlying the ongoing tragedy. To them, the Shakopee “protest” seemed as distant as the California Gold Rush or Prohibition.

Debbie cleared her throat, totally unaware that she’d dropped a bombshell, and likely to be horrified if she found out. “So, um, if I’ve answered all your questions, I haveta get back to this. Dr. Gulo might’ve quit, but he’ll still be super mad if I don’t get this done. Okay? You guys?” She was addressing her remarks to the group, but only looking at Magnus, clearly wondering if another roar was forthcoming. “Okay?”

“O’course, lass.” Magnus had recovered quickly. Almost too quickly; Oz had a niggling suspicion that Magnus Berne was keeping something back. “Again, I’m verra sorry. I lost a friend—Sue Smalls—but I didna mean to take it out on you.”

“A friend? I mean, I know you ID’d her, but…” Debbie looked startled, opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, then closed it. Then tried again and said to her feet, “Oh. That’s okay. I’m sorry about your. Uh. Your friend.”

“Never mind him,” Nadia said, sidling closer to Debbie, who kept twitching her nose like she couldn’t make up her mind to fight or flight. “He’s just a large dim cantankerous idiotic noisy uncouth bear.”

“It’s true,” Annette said with a straight face. “Bears are the worst.”

“I don’t know why anyone puts up with them. Can’t they hibernate longer?” Oz added, sidling out of Annette’s kicking range.

“You poor thing, I’ll bet Dr. Gulo was short with you, too.” Nadia was nearly vibrating with commiseration. “Under all that pressure to close—he must have snapped at you more than once.”

“It’s—yeah. I mean…he’s so uptight. But it’s gotten worse.” Debbie had stopped talking to her shoes, which was a relief. “And it’s funny—I shouldn’t say this. I really have to finish the packing.”

“We’ll help! Say whatever you need to say. Pretend we’re not here.” Annette looked around, grabbed a half-empty box, and emptied the entirety of the in-bin tray into it.

“Um, Annette, I think you just packed Debbie’s bin.”

“Shut up, Oz.”

“Oh, go on, darling. Our lips are…” Nadia mimed buttoning her lips closed, because she thought zippers were for lazy people. “You don’t fool me, sweetie. I know you’re dying to tell. Think how satisfying it will be.”

“Okay. After you guys left last time, after Mr. Berne identified the remains of his friend? Dr. Gulo said Mrs. Smalls didn’t have any friends. He said she did when she was younger, but not anymore. Which was weird, because he’d never