Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The man is an asshole, but it’s really working for us right now.
I am so grateful, but I cannot express it, not even slightly. I am working overtime to not look like a man who has two dead gendarmes buried in his pack cemetery. As he turns away from the detectives, Volkov flickers a slight wink at me. It’s the first positive facial expression he’s ever given me, and I find myself stunned by the fact he didn’t drop me in it the first chance he got.
“Mr. Volkov takes his role as therapist very seriously,” I explain as the door is closed.
Detective Gaulle tries to deflect, having just been thoroughly shamed by the therapist. I know how it feels to come away from an interaction with Volkov feeling less than. Now I’m getting the backlash.
“What would you call this place? Not a family home, is it? Too many people living here?”
“This is the ancestral home of myself and other families. It’s now run as a going concern, so there are family members living here, and business associates.”
“So, a commune,” Detective Barbier says.
“Or a cult,” Detective Gaulle shoots back.
I don’t care what they think we are doing as long as they don’t find the dead men.
Unfortunately, inexorably, we are eventually required to go outside. They wander the gardens and then look toward the cemetery. I try my best to calm myself. There’s no reason for them to assume that the men are buried here.
The younger detective pulls out his phone. “Looks like we’re getting closer,” he murmurs.
They approach the cemetery and I wonder who the pack will decide to be the alpha next. In the absence of an heir, my father’s lineage will end. I have disappointed generations of ancestors, and I will likely end my days rotting in a cell on a charge of murder while God knows what happens to Beatrix.
“Well, well, what is this?” Detective Barbier snorts.
I steel myself for a terrible discovery.
When I look in the direction the detective is pointing, there are no bodies, but the graves are open, recently dug up as if by animals. I know immediately what has happened, and where Beatrix went.
I have no idea what she’s done with the bodies, or the tag. In the immediate moment, I don’t care.
“We have been having trouble with the local wolves. They’re running low on prey,” I explain. “They can turn to scavenging if we are not careful. The graves were fortunately dedicated to pets.”
They give me suspicious looks.
“Climate change,” I explain. “The deer have less forage, which in turn puts pressure on the…”
“Is that a train?” Detective Gaulle looks for anything to get him out of this conversation, and he finds it.
“It is a train,” I say, moving toward the little station at the side of the chateau. The train is looking good today, gleaming in the sun. I keep it spotlessly clean so there is no day it does not look good.
“Mind if we…”
“Of course not.”
The two men love the train almost as much as I do. It is an impressive piece of engineering and workmanship, and there is no limit to their admiration. I even begin to forget that they came to look for the police my mate killed and has now presumably dragged off somewhere.
“You must have a lot of money,” Detective Gaulle says.
“My family has been blessed in that regard.”
“It is steam?”
“A very refined version of steam, yes. It chugs and choos less than your average engine, but it does run on coal. Powered rails are a danger for wildlife and ramblers, so the decision was made to keep it old-fashioned.”
“Monsieur, you are living the dream,” Detective Barbier says.
“If you call ahead next time, I can have my engineer ready it for departure, and we can enjoy a jaunt through the countryside if you like. In the meantime, I hope you find your comrades.”
“One probably ran off from his wife,” the older detective laughs. “And the other… there are rumors that the two of them were the reason she was jealous. It is possible they will turn up of their own accord, but we had to follow the tag, you understand?”
Men trust men who own trains. I do not entirely know why, but now that we are standing inside the cabin, these two detectives are looking at me as if I could never possibly have ever done anything wrong.
“Of course. You have my number. Please do call any time if I can be of further assistance. Would you like to come for lunch? The chef is preparing quite a spread for the household today.”
They look at one another, as if knowing they shouldn’t.
“It is a long drive back to the city, no? Fortify yourselves with us.”
The pack feasts every lunch, with the chef putting on a grand spread mostly for her own edification. She often requests additional budgets for experiments and such. We are lucky to have Madame Foisin.