He seemed to be having some trouble pronouncing the words, and she wondered what was wrong with his mouth now when it had been fine a minute ago.
“Do you know how to work in a place like this?”
Everyone in the Courtyard had a job. Everyone in a Wolf pack had a position. And while not all the humans who were being allowed to share in the Courtyard’s bounty had been assigned tasks, it had been clear that the Others expected all the newcomers to figure out what skills they could offer that would justify their being accepted.
Twyla considered what Elliot was saying. It would be a change from mopping floors and scrubbing toilets—although they needed someone to do that too. She didn’t think many people bothered Elliot, so it would be calmer than working at one of the Market Square stores, and she could use a little calm in her day if she was going to help look after the children in the afternoons.
“I never learned about typing and computers and such,” she finally said. “Answering the phone and filing—that I can do for you. But only in the mornings when the children are having their lessons. I came to Lakeside to help Crispin take care of Lizzy, and that has to come first.”
“Of course,” Elliot said calmly, his pronunciation once more crisp. “We take care of our young.” He paused before offering, “Sam is my grandson.”
Twyla smiled. “He’s a fine boy.” She’d seen Sam around the Market Square, sometimes spending time with the other children but more often in the company of Meg Corbyn and a young Wolf named Skippy. The first time she’d seen him and noticed the gray eyes, she’d thought he was a human child with hair that was an odd mix of gold and gray. And she’d thought he was Meg’s younger brother or a cousin. Then she’d seen Meg with a Wolf pup who had that same coloring.
“The Sierra listed computers and typing as some of her skills,” Elliot said. “Maybe she could—”
“No.”
The sharpness in her voice surprised her more than it surprised Elliot. But she’d had time to think about the prophecy cards Meg had drawn that morning. She didn’t know how someone else would interpret those cards, but she knew what she had deduced from them about her family. It made her angry, and it made her heart ache, to realize Sierra had lied to Crispin when the girl insisted that she had no way of contacting their brother, Cyrus. If she had been honest, Crispin still wouldn’t have paid for Cyrus’s train fare to Lakeside the way he had for his mother, sister, and two nieces, but he would have called his brother and warned him to leave Toland before the storm hit.
Twyla looked at Elliot. Not the actual leader, but he had a significant position in the Courtyard and among the Wolves. She couldn’t ask Crispin for help in confirming what she suspected. As a police officer, he had the means to find out, but it would create trouble between him and his little sister once he realized Sierra was in contact with Cyrus. “My Sierra is a good girl. She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s a hard worker, and she loves her children. And most days and about most things, she can be trusted. But we all have our weaknesses, Mr. Elliot, and Sierra’s weakness is her brother Cyrus. He twists her up and convinces her to do things she shouldn’t do—things she knows are wrong.” Twyla looked around the first floor of the consulate. “This is like a government office. Some things are everyday and don’t matter, and some things are no one’s business but yours. If Sierra worked here for you and Cyrus came by to pressure her into giving him information that would be worth selling, she might resist for a little while, but eventually she would give it to him and then try to justify why he should have it. That would cause trouble for her and for the rest of us.”
“But the Cyrus isn’t here,” Elliot said.
“I think he might be on his way here.” She went to one of the desks and wrote down the phone number for Howling Good Reads. She tore off the sheet and handed it to Elliot. “Sierra told me and Crispin that Cyrus hadn’t left a number where we could contact him. I think she lied. I think she’s called him a couple of times since we got here. Can’t say if she made calls on other phones without permission, but when I saw her using the phone near the cash register on a day when Mr. Simon and Mr. Vlad weren’t in the front of the store, she got flustered and claimed she was ordering pizza. I can tell you the children didn’t have pizza for lunch that day.” She hesitated. “The police have ways of checking calls made from a particular phone, but I can’t ask Crispin to check this. Even if I’m wrong about her calling Cyrus since we arrived in Lakeside, the lie she told before we left Toland will create tension between her and Crispin.”
Cyrus had always managed to create tension between his siblings, even when Crispin was standing up for Sierra.
“A lot of calls are made from the bookstore’s phone,” Elliot said.
“Most likely it would be a Toland phone number. One Mr. Simon and Mr. Vlad wouldn’t recognize.”
“All right.” Elliot folded the paper and put it in his pocket. “If your pup isn’t suitable, can you think of someone else who is?”
“Katherine Debany,” Twyla replied. “She worked as a personal assistant. Probably knows how to run an office like this better than the rest of us combined. I know Pete Denby was asking her about working for him a couple of afternoons a week.”
Elliot didn’t ask why a skilled worker would be available, and Twyla didn’t offer an explanation. Like her, Katherine had been dismissed because she wouldn’t join the Humans First and Last movement in order to keep her job.
“Tell the Katherine to see me.” Elliot headed for the stairs. His foot was on the first step when the phone rang. He looked back at her.
“You want me to answer that?” Twyla asked.
“Yes.” Elliot headed upstairs. “Thank you.”
Smiling, she picked up the phone. “Courtyard Consulate, Twyla speaking.”
CHAPTER 2
Windsday, Messis 1
Monty took a seat at the conference table and wondered if anyone else was baffled about his presence at a meeting that included Lakeside’s mayor and police commissioner, an ITF agent, and Captain Douglas Burke. He was just a lieutenant in charge of a two-man team.
He tried, unsuccessfully, to convince himself that the duties of that team had no relevance to his being there.
“Thank you for putting aside your important duties to speak with me.”
Walter Chen, the new acting mayor, smiled at each man in turn. It was a gentle smile in keeping with the man’s small stature and quiet voice. Deep lines spread from the corners of his brown eyes, and his black hair was carefully combed back from his face.
“We appreciate the opportunity to meet with you,” Greg O’Sullivan replied. Then he nodded at the other man Monty didn’t know.