Part 23 (1/2)

He takes a minute to readjust the seat and steering wheel. While he's doing that, he says, ”Is there something I should know about Tamara? She's not married, is she? Or divorced with ten kids? Not that I mind kids but I don't know what kind of father I'd be.

I've had friends with stepkids and it doesn't always work out well. 'Course, that-”

”Jesus, David.” My voice is high-pitched and screechy. ”This is a f.u.c.king first date. You don't even know the woman. I haven't known her for long. What if she's a flake? Don't you think you should go to lunch maybe or coffee before taking her out at night?”

David looks over with an expression that makes me want to smack him. He's trying hard not to laugh. ”Go to lunch or coffee before taking her out at night? What are we, twelve? You want to come along to chaperone?”

Not a bad idea. Well, not coming along to chaperone exactly, but I could follow them. Make sure Tamara keeps her skin on.

David is eyeballing me again. ”Come on, Anna. Spill it. You have something against Tamara? I suppose if you do I should hear it.

You certainly had Gloria pegged.”

Now that I've decided on a course of action, I relax and smile over at him. ”No. Get me to my car and you can go on your date.

It's a block or so from the Four Seasons. I'll direct you.”

David drives with one eye on the road and one on me. I don't reverse myself often. It's amusing to feel his confusion. What wouldn't be amusing is Tamara turning into a werewolf and attacking him. I'm not sure how I'll tail them since he knows my car, but I'll figure something out.

We're about a block from my car when David slows the Hummer. ”Holy s.h.i.+t. Is that the Jag? What the h.e.l.l happened to it?”

His tone snaps me from my reverie. I follow his gaze.

I can't believe what I'm seeing.

The Jag is parked where I left it. Under a streetlight, a block from the hotel.

It's been trashed. The paint is scored with thousands of scratches, every inch of the body sc.r.a.ped and cut. Not even the windows escaped. The ones not shattered outright bear deep nicks and abrasions.

David's voice is hushed. ”It looks like it was attacked by a pack of wild dogs.”

I'm too stunned to respond, words just won't come, but I know he's right. It was attacked by animals.

Not dogs, though.

Wolves.

CHAPTER 50.

LIGHTNING FAST, SHOCK VEERS TO ANGER. ”I'M GO-ING to kill her.”

I didn't mean to speak the words out loud.

David is no longer looking at the car. He's staring at me. ”Kill her? Kill who?”

I've stumbled out of the Hummer and am standing in stunned silence beside my car. I love this car. It was the first really nice car I ever bought-my dream car. Sandra trashed it. The musk of wolf hanging in the air confirms it.

David joins me at the front of the Hummer. ”Anna? You know who did this? We'll call the police. Anybody this twisted should be locked up.”

He's reaching for his cell phone. I grab his hand. ”No police. I'll take care of this.”

”Are you kidding? What do you mean, no police? I've never seen damage like this. I can't even imagine what was used. A trowel?

A knife? A bat? Jesus. You'd think someone would have noticed a car being vandalized like this.”

David's outrage is escalating. So is my own; my insides are seething with it. Except that I know there's nothing the cops can do except take a report. It was Sandra and her pack. How they managed in daylight on a busy side street, I can't even imagine. I do know that if she's capable of the things I saw and felt last night, she's capable of creating the kind of glamour that would render her invisible.

David is waiting. What kind of explanation can I give him for not wanting to call the cops? I give voice to the first thing that pops to mind. ”It's been a long day. What happened to my car is bad enough. Standing here for an hour doing paperwork is worse.”

David doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't argue. I can tell by his expression that my outburst when I saw the car is replaying in his head. I can also tell that he's filing it away for a future conversation. He says, ”What do you want to do?”

I'm suddenly conscious of tears running down my cheeks. Stupid. Crying over a car. I swipe at them with the back of my hand.

”Call a tow truck, I guess.”

David has his cell phone out again. ”I can do better than that. I have a friend who owns a body shop. High end. I'll call him. He'll come get the car.”

”It's Sunday night.”

”Doesn't matter.” David is scrolling through his address book. ”He and I played for the Broncos. If he's not in the hospital or dead, he'll come.”

I rest my b.u.t.t against the side of the Jag, running a hand along the damaged door, listening to David's side of the conversation. In less than two minutes, he snaps shut his phone.

”He'll be here in twenty minutes.”

Guess the football fraternity runs deep. I glance at my watch. I know in my gut that Tamara had a part in what happened to my car.

At least the one good thing that could come out of this would be David canceling his date. I give him a forlorn smile. ”What about your date? Aren't you going to be late?”

David is on the phone again. ”Hey, Tamara. David. Listen, I have to cancel tonight. There's been an accident. No. Nothing serious.

Can we postpone until tomorrow night?”

Evidently she agrees because he's smiling and nodding. ”Great. Pick you up at seven.”

He pockets the phone and joins me.

I've got a twenty-four-hour reprieve.

”Where does Tamara live?” I ask.

He looks surprised. ”You don't know? She's staying with a friend at some doctor's house in La Jolla. Quite a place to hear her tell it.”