Page 3 of The Crimson Wolf
“Yeah, I heard.” He shakes his head. “I’m so proud of you.” A longing look lingers in his eyes. “Let’s go inside. It’s a million degrees out here. I’ll get you something to drink.”
I part my lips to refuse. I just wanted to ask him my questions and get out of his way so it didn’t turn into a bigger deal than it needed to be, but Jack doesn’t give me a chance. He walks past me, back into his shop, leaving me with no option but to follow after him.
He ventures down a small hallway to his right, away from the shop entrance. It leads to a living room with a fireplace and two comfortable-looking armchairs. “Have a seat. Can I get you water, tea, coffee?” He motions to the chairs but walks to the small kitchen at the other end of the room.
“Do you live here?” I question as I look around the space.
Jack calls from the kitchen, already pulling out two mugs and making coffee on the stove. “Yeah. Remember my Uncle Jerry? Well, he died four years back and left me this cabin. I decided to turn it into a store and live here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about his passing.” I take a seat on the flannel armchair closest to me. I’ve interviewed hundreds of witnesses before, meeting them at their houses or various locations. I usually am calm and in control of the situation, but right now, it feels like my heart might beat out of my chest. This isn’t just any eye-witness. This is Jack, and here I am in his little cottage in the middle of the woods as he makes me a cup of coffee, using his ungodly muscles to do so.God, those muscles. How can I think of anything else?
“It’s okay. We were never that close. I was just his only nephew, and he had no kids.”
“How’s your dad?” I call.
“Dead.”
“Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry.” I want to punch myself.
“It’s alright. You know how my old man and I never really got along. He was never the same after my mom died.”
Jack and I bonded over both having dead parents growing up. He still had his dad, but now I guess we’re even. His father was a cold man—spitting image of Jack, but nevercracked a smile. The two were always arguing, which made me thankful to grow up with such a loving Granny.
I search my memories for the details of his mother’s death. She was murdered, much like my parents. Back then, I didn’t reflect on the similarities much, but now…
Jack interrupts my thoughts, emerging from his kitchen, holding two cups of coffee in white diner mugs. I reach out and take the one he offers me. “How did you know I wanted coffee? You didn’t even give me a chance to answer your question?”
His hazel eyes hold mine as if he’s sucking in the deepest parts of me. “I know you, Red. You’re never one to turn down coffee.” He sits in the seat across from me and brings the cup up to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine.
I look down at my mug, trying to find a distraction from the buzzing taking over my body. “That’s pretty assumptious of you. A lot about me has changed since I left.”
“I see that, but I can tell what matters has stayed the same.”
I shake my head. I’m not letting him distract me like he did for most of my life. No matter what he says, I’m a different woman now. My life doesn’t revolve around him and his opinions of me.
I take out my recorder, flip it on, and hold it up. “So, Jack, I’m here because of the attacks. I’m reporting on thecase and in a bit of a time crunch. I heard you were one of the first people on the scene.”
Jack looks down at his mug and takes in a big breath. A moment of silence passes as I wait for him to respond. He finally returns my gaze. “Have you been to the old diner since you’ve been back? It looks exactly the same as when we used to go.”
I squint my eyes. “What?”
“Joanne’s Diner. You know, the one we used to go to every Friday after the games. Come on now, don’t tell me the five years away has made you forget everything!”
Is he seriously trying to avoid my question? This is so like him. He’s always had a habit of letting me down when I need him most. “Jack, the attack. Can you tell me about it?”
He sighs. “Everything was already in the news. There isn’t anything else for me to tell.”
I know he’s lying. Not even because I’ve known him my whole life and can tell from the way his eyebrows pinch together, he’s avoiding the question. There’s something he doesn’t want to tell me. But why? This just confirms my suspicion that this isn’t just some freak animal attack.
I breathe out and soften my expression. “Jack, please. I don’t have many options. I really care about my job.” My puppy dog eyes have always worked in the past to get men to answer questions or to cut corners to find out moreabout a story. The art of seduction is one I’ve mastered well in the past five years, but I’ve never used it on Jack before, and this just feels all kinds of wrong.
Jack’s reaction is palpable. He stares at me with parted lips. His shoulders tighten, and his breath heavies.
I can’t deny that having this effect on him has been the source of every wet dream of my teenage years. Except it’s a little too late and stings too much. He sure does know how to make all my wildest dreams come true at the worst time. I clear my throat and stiffen, looking away from Jack’s intense stare.
He’s knocked out of his trance and sits up straight, tugging at the collar of his flannel. “How about this? Why don’t I take you to dinner tomorrow night, and we can discuss more?”
“Tomorrow? I’m kind of on a time crunch. Can’t we just talk now?”
