Raised by Wolves

Chapter 64

CHAPTER 64

JUST ABOUT EVERY resident of Kokanee Creek turns up to watch us get pulled out of the helicopter and escorted into the police station. They stand with their arms crossed, heads nodding, like we’ve confirmed their worst suspicions about us again. I’ve done nothing wrong! I want to yell.

Actually, scratch that—I want to flip them off for making all their shitty assumptions. Unfortunately, I’m still in handcuffs.

Inside the station, Officer Randall immediately starts sucking up to the FBI guys, asking if they want coffee, saying how sorry he is that the chief never got back to them when they called, blah blah blah. Meanwhile, Pearl wants to know where the chief is, because Lacey’s been calling the station all morning. Dougie pokes his head in the front door. “Mind if I come in for a nap?”

Agent Rollins interrupts the general chaos. “I need access to your interrogation room, Officer,” he says sharply. “And my colleague needs a roll of paper towels and a bathroom.”

Randall points toward the jail cells. “Ya’ll are welcome to chat back there,” he suggests. “We use the interview room as a supply closet. But I think there’s some folding chairs in the hall there, so help yourself.”

“Are you kidding me?” Agent Rollins says, then mutters something about rural rednecks and small-town police budgets.

“I assume your station has running water at least,” Dunham says frostily.

“Oh sure,” says Randall. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Looks like you got something on your shoes, huh?”

Dunham stalks by him, shoulders stiff with annoyance.

Holo looks at me and giggles. “Nice one,” he whispers.

Rollins says, “Let’s go, kids.”

So that’s how Wendy, Holo, and I wind up in the same cell Holo and I slept in back in April, sitting on cold metal chairs with handcuffs cutting into our wrists. When Dunham comes in, shoes clean again, he sits down on my old thin, stained mattress. Rollins follows him but remains standing. Dunham folds his hands over his crossed leg and says to Wendy, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Waiting for what? I think. And am I crazy to think that he sounds relieved ?

Wendy must be wondering the same thing, because she says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what you want from me, or why you’ve brought us here, or—”

“I’d like to take your handcuffs off now,” Dunham says, interrupting her, “if you’re ready for that. It’ll make this a lot more pleasant.” He turns to me and Holo. “I’m pretty sure Wendy’s going to cooperate,” he says. “But can I trust you?”

Holo nods. I shrug. I don’t know—can you?

“They’ll be fine ,” Wendy insists. “They shouldn’t have been treated like criminals in the first place!”

“I hear they have some delinquent tendencies, though,” Dunham says, smirking like this is all some kind of joke. Then he swivels his head around and calls, “Officer Randall, can we get some water back here? Or that coffee you were talking about?”

I have no idea what’s going on. At first it seemed like we were being arrested, and now it sounds like we’re all going to have a coffee date. When Dunham unlocks our handcuffs, I rub my wrists where the metal bit into my skin. Thinking, When is any of this going to make sense?

Dougie comes strolling into the cell area. “Who’re you ?” he wheezes to the agents. He gives them a drunken appraisal. “Nice suits. Who died? Not me, I hope.” He places a hand on his chest, makes a dramatic, dying face. “I can feel my very heartbeat fading. Here’s to all the Jack I was still hopin’ to drink—may I meet you again, upstairs or downstairs, wherever I be sent—”

“Get out of here, boozer,” Rollins says.

“That’s enough, Dougie.” Randall hurries over and takes the town drunk by the arm. “Now’s not the time,” he says, steering Dougie toward the front door. “Go sleep it off in the park; the weather’s fine.” He calls over his shoulder, “Coffee’ll be ready in a minute.”

“But I didn’t even get to pet the little animals,” Dougie whines loudly. He turns around and winks at me.

I bare my teeth at him. Holo snarls.

Dunham finishes freeing up Wendy. Then he sits back down on the mattress and gazes at her face like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He says, “Wendy Marsden, I have been looking for you for thirty-five years.”