Page 18 of Bewitched By the Werewolf
“Sure.”
I pull a slim black wallet from my back pocket and hand over my ID. He takes it without touching my fingers in that creepy way guys do sometimes. I kind of appreciate his professionalism.
“Theresa Rowland,” he reads out loud. He doesn’t read out my address or birthdate, but I know he’s memorizing the information to look up later.
“Just Tess is fine,” I say sweetly with just a hint of sass. His now brighter silver eyes flick up to me, then he hands my ID back to me, holding it out between two fingers. I shove it back in my wallet and cross my arms over my chest again waiting to see what he does next. My stance is less cooperative and more stubborn. Mister Sheriff Evans is about to learn how stubborn I can be.
“Alright, Tess.” The way he says my name sends a chill up my spine, one that makes my nipples pucker, and I tighten my arms over them, stifling my body’s response to his deep timber. My unexpected reaction to him only makes me scowl harder at officer bulging arms. “Stay out of trouble and we won’t have any problems.”
“You got it Officer.”
I mock salute him with enough mockery to make him frown disapprovingly. He doesn’t say anything more before he rotates and makes his way to the parking lot beyond the campgrounds. He must have parked there and walked since I don’t see any other vehicles around. I wait till he’s a good distance away before opening my trailer and heading inside.
Sitting at my desk, I toss down my messenger bag and switch on my monitors connecting to the cameras. There are six in total and all seem to be transmitting clearly. The one I was installing when the sheriff caught me was the last one and closest to my trailer. The rest are deeper in the woods pointed along whatappear to be paths frequented by large animals. I can only hope the werewolves use the same trails.
Tabbing over to my website builder, I set into writing an entry about my progress. I leave out all specifics of location or names. Firstly, because if this is a werewolf hot spot I don’t want any other hunters and investigators showing up and scaring them off or interfering in my pursuit, and secondly, if it isn’t I don’t need to inconvenience the locals with the less subtle and more intrusive crazy theorists.
In the world of paranormal and extraterrestrial there can be plenty of coo-coo’s. There can also be plenty of normal people who just happen to have a healthy curiosity and open mind. Then there are the few determined and dedicated, like myself, who just can’t take no for an answer and won’t stop until we find our proof. I’ve given myself this one last hunt to find the truth and if I don’t, I’ll move on with my life. I’ll still read the blogs and follow the you-tubers, I just won’t be one of them anymore. I can only take so many dead ends and disappointments.
I clear my mind of all my own doubts and focus on the here and now, entering a log into my blog.
Day 3
I’ve already attracted the attention of local law authorities; this has to be a new record even for me. I thought I was being covert, but something must have tipped them off. The Sheriff is a giant stick in the mud and my usual tactics won’t work on him. I’ll have to be careful not to give anything away. I don’t know who in this town could be a werewolf, hell it could be all of them. I still don’t know. I have a few leads but so far nothing concrete. Not surprising, they’ve been carefully concealed this long I wouldn’t expect it to be easy. If there’s something here though, I’ll find it. I won’t give up until I do. It’s a small enough town if I stick around long enough something will give. There’s a lunar eclipse happening in two weeks, also known as a bloodmoon, it seems to be something of importance around here. I can think of one reason why. I imagine if I find nothing else before then, I will during the blood moon. That’s all for now. I’ll keep updating when I can.
I post the update on my blog and make sure to conceal my I.P. in case some nosey snooper tries to find out where I am. Now if they trace back the post it’ll show me somewhere in the middle of Canada. You pick up a few tricks along the way when learning to conceal your location, not only from authorities but others who want to cut in on the action. This town is mine, and until I know who is a werewolf and how many there are, no one will be able to find me or them.
Chapter 10: Ryder
My first stop after leaving Tess at the lake is Ginger’s. I need her to dig up as much information about Theresa Rowland and possible. I memorized her driver’s license information which Ginger can verify in a matter of minutes. I could run her info through my system back at my office, but all that will give me is her name, address, and criminal record. Ginger’s search is more…thorough. I’ll get the entire picture on who Tess Rowland really is, not just who she pretends to be. Because she doesn’t strike me as the star gazing sort. I highly doubt she’s in town just to witness an eclipse. No on intentionally comes to Snowberry who isn’t non-human or knows someone living here. There’s more to her story and I’m going to find out what.
Ginger’s apartment is located in a small complex only a few blocks from the center of town. It’s the only apartment complex in town and has a dozen units spread through a handful of two-story buildings. They’re pretty low key, no locked gates or codes for entry. Just a standard lobby entrance with mailboxes and a place for people to hang their wet jackets during the winter and boot drying racks. They’re empty now, since it’s barely fall yet.
I bound up the stairs to her apartment and knock on the door numbered 4. She answers after a few seconds. I know she has a hidden camera out here somewhere, so she knows exactly who’sknocking on her door. Ginger doesn’t immediately let me in but leans against the partially open door and smirks at me. Dressed less extravagantly than usual in a pair of bedazzled wide-legged jeans and a plain white t-shirt, fuzzy pink slippers on her feet.
“Hello, brother. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“I need you to look someone up for me.”
At the tone of my voice she perks up, on alert. Her blue-grey eyes brighten with intrigue as she steps back and ushers me inside. “Step into my abode and do tell. Who am I digging up dirt on?”
She shuts and locks the door behind us, even though Snowberry hasn’t had a break in or burglary in years. The space that’s usually reserved for the living room, where normally there would be a couch and coffee table, is instead filled with a giant curved desk and numerous computer monitors. On one screen I see the image of her front door from her hidden security camera.
Ginger plops into her seat and spins to face her many computers, her fingers already clicking away at her keyboard, pulling up windows and programs.
“There’s a new female in town, human I think. Theresa Rowland. I need to know everything there is to know about her.”
“On it.”
In a clicking frenzy, she types commands into the computer and clicks on windows and logins, no doubt accessing federal databases and social media sites. It takes a few minutes of process of elimination, when we find multiple Theresa Rowland’s. Apparently, there aren’t very many names that aren’t duplicates anymore. When I spot a familiar face and locks of fiery red hair Ginger delves deeper into her background.
“Okay here we go,” Ginger sits up taller and leans into her monitors, reading out the information she’s discovered. “Thirty years old, born in Philadelphia, graduated high school but thereisn’t any record of college. There is however something else very interesting.”
I step closer and lean in over my sister’s shoulder trying to decipher all the tiny font on the many screens. There’s a lot of information pulled up and I’m not sure which thing she’s referring to. “What? Does she have a record?” If she’s got a record, it’ll be easier to force her out of town if she misbehaves, I’m already considering possible reasons to threaten her with.
“Yes, but that’s not the interesting part. She’s been institutionalized.”
I frown, my brows pinching together in surprise and disbelief. “Like padded room, straight jacket kind of institution?”
