The Librarian from the Black Lagoon Page 3

  Unfortunately, it was too late now to drive home. She’d have to stay in Moonchuckle Bay for the night and get an early start in the morning.

  When she heard a door open behind her, she turned to find the handsome deputy — Larry Knight — and Tabitha Jones. And, if the badge on the other man’s uniform was any indication, the sheriff of this fine town was with them, too. They were all moving toward her with purpose, but they didn’t seem intimidating.

  When they reached her side, the sheriff put out his hand. “I’m Sheriff Samuel Winston. I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough day today, Ms. McCall.”

  “Please call me Joan,” she said as she shook his hand. “May I leave now? I’m really tired.”

  The sheriff looked at Deputy Knight, and Larry smiled at her. “There’s a little problem. Well, actually, a big problem.”

  “What is it?” she asked with a weary sigh.

  “Come into my office, please,” the sheriff asked.

  She followed him in, and the two deputies walked in behind her, closing the door.

  “Please, have a seat,” the sheriff said.

  Reluctantly, she sank down into one of the chairs.

  Sheriff Winston motioned to Deputy Knight. “You take this, Larry.”

  Larry looked uncomfortable, but shot her a look that was meant to be soothing. For some weird reason, it gave her butterflies. “Like the sheriff said, we have a problem. Several problems.”

  She continued to stare at him. Get to the point, man.

  “You saw something strange on that mountain.”

  “I was abducted by something strange. I escaped from something strange. And then I saw something else strange.” She sighed. “Part of me thinks I was hallucinating, and the other part thinks it’s this town that’s really strange.”

  The law enforcement officers exchanged glances. Larry said, “We’d appreciate it if you kept all of that to yourself for now, because there’s a more pressing matter.”

  “What is that?”

  “The monster who abducted you?”

  She shivered. “Yes?”

  “The creature has an amazing sense of smell. When he locks onto someone — say, dinner or a possible mate — he doesn’t give up.”

  “So? You fought it off.”

  “Temporarily. It’s probably already tracking your scent. It will follow you. Into town, if it needs to.”

  “Then I need to leave town. Get back home to St. George.”

  “You don’t understand.” Larry shook his head. “It will follow you to St. George.”

  That gave her pause, then she realized that she didn’t even know what she was dealing with. “It was hideous. What is it?”

  Larry said, “We’d like to take you to see a man who can answer all of your questions much better than we can. And we’d like to have you stay at his house for several days, under deputy protection, until this creature is found and captured.”

  She shivered again. She just wanted to go home, but ... would this thing really follow her? Show up in St. George? Cause havoc? Kidnap her again?

  “Am I dinner or a mate?” she finally asked.

  “We think it has claimed you as its mate,” the sheriff said.

  That gave her the creeps, and she shuddered. “And you can keep me safe for now?”

  “Yes.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. “All right. Two days.”

  His Incredibly Stinky, Slimy Shoulder

  LARRY NOW UNDERSTOOD WHAT SAMUEL had meant when he said that he would want to touch Joan if she was his mate. If his longing to touch her was any indication, she was.

  And, if he’d had any question about it at all, he just had to listen to his wolf, who kept declaring one word: Mine.

  On the short drive over to Walter’s home, she was curious and asking questions about the town even though he could tell she was exhausted. About Town Square. The food vendors there. The studio.

  She had asked about everything except whether the monsters were real. Though he knew she’d seen monsters today, he also knew it was a human’s protective instinct to deny anything out of the ordinary. It’s one of the things that made it possible to leave places like Moonchuckle Bay open to tourists.

  He pulled up in front of the house at 10:45 PM, and she looked up at it and sighed.

  “Are you all right? You’re not hurt, are you?”

  She looked at him curiously and shook her head. “Bruised, battered, and brain dead.”

  “Totally understandable.” When she reached for the door handle, he shook his head. “If you don’t let me get that door for you, my grandmother will turn over in her grave.”

  “Did she teach you to take a long time about it?” she asked, but her tone was light and teasing. He smiled, then hopped out and hurried around to open the door.

  She stood and said, “Thanks.”

  He shut the door, locked the car, and walked beside her — and was proud of himself for not touching her hand or her arm or her hair or any other part of her.

  He caught a whiff of her delicate scent; no wonder the monster found her so alluring.

  Walter opened the door before they rang the bell. With a broad smile, he held the door open. “Welcome! Come in, please. You must be Ms. McCall.”

  She smiled at Walter, and jealousy clawed at Larry. “I am. Please call me Joan.”

  “I am Walter Clemmons, Miss Joan, and I’m happy to help in any way I can. I have a bedroom ready for you because I’m sure you’re exhausted after your ordeal. We can talk in the morning.”

  She shook her head resolutely. “I’d like to talk tonight, please. I won’t be able to sleep until we do.”

  “All right, then.” Walter motioned for them to follow him back to his library. Larry had been there before. The walls were covered with bookshelves filled with old, rare, expensive books. It was an impressive sight, so he wasn’t surprised when Joan entered, paused in awe, and asked, “May I inspect the books?”

  With a delighted smile, Walter said, “Be my guest.”

  She walked forward, circling in the middle of the room. She reminded Larry of Belle in Beauty and the Beast, which Amber had insisted he and Samuel watch with her one night. Delight shone from her eyes, and she no longer looked exhausted. After touching the spines of several books, she pulled out three and leafed carefully through them before putting them back. She turned to Walter with reverence. “This is beautiful.”

  She was beautiful.

  “Thank you,” Walter said. “When you’re ready, have a seat. We have some important matters to discuss.”

  She pulled out one final book and carried it with her to a chair.

  When they were settled and Walter had placed glasses of water with floating slices of strawberries and lemon before them, Larry told Joan, “Walter is a renowned historian.” He was a paranormal historian, but Larry thought he’d wait to reveal that. “If there’s anything you need to know, just ask Walter, and he has the answer.”

  Walter chuckled. “I’m sort of like a living Magic 8 Ball.”

  Joan smiled. “I definitely have lots of questions.”

  “I hope I have the answers. Let’s start with you telling me about this creature that took you. Tell me what happened. What he did. Anything you can remember.”

  Joan sighed. He didn’t blame her. It was nearly eleven at night, and she needed to sleep, but she was talking to strangers instead. “I was hiking with a group I’d found online. We were walking past a small pond or lake. I was a few steps behind because I’d stopped to tie my shoe. When I stood, I saw this ... thing ... rising out of the water. I cried out and started to run, but it caught me.”

  “Did the others see you get taken?” Walter asked.

  “I don’t think so. They were far enough ahead of me that I think the trees hid us from view. They heard me cry out, though, because I heard them calling out for me. But the monster pulled me down into the water.” She shuddered just remembering it.

  “What kept you from drowning?”
Walter asked, gently.

  Larry wanted to pound the creature for hurting her.

  She was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “He put his hand over my mouth and I passed out, so I don’t really know. When I woke, he was dragging me out of the water, but it was in a much more wooded area. He tossed me over his shoulder.” She shuddered. “His incredibly stinky, slimy shoulder.”

  Larry resisted reaching out to touch her arm. Rather than comforting her, it might startle her.

  She explained how the creature had carried her into his cave/lair and locked her into the big ornate cage, and how she’d picked the lock.

  Larry was so proud of her. She wasn’t afraid of facing her fears, so maybe she could get used to him being a monster, too — especially since he wasn’t stinky or scary like the Creature.

  She sighed and finished her story. “And then I ran into a pack of three wolves, and they chased the monster off, and then they turned into men: Larry, the sheriff, and some guy who — weirdly enough — looked an awful lot like Elvis Presley. The young version, not the old one.” She raised her eyes tentatively to Larry, and smiled. “Thank you for saving me.”

  His heart did a strange little pitter-pat thing that he would never confess to anyone, and he smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

  She broke eye contact first, and told Walter what had happened after they’d rescued her. Finally, after she’d run out of words, Walter said, “The sheriff told me that I am allowed to give you this information.” He sent Larry a look, and they both knew that she might not remember any of this after the witches returned to town. “The monster that kidnapped you is the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

  She frowned. “How can that possibly be a real thing?”

  “How can wolves that turn into men be real?” Walter steepled his fingers. “There’s another dimension to reality out there that most people don’t want to know about.”

  “The sheriff and Larry told me that the creature thinks I’m its mate,” she said bravely, though she shivered. “And that it will follow me wherever I go.”

  Walter nodded. “Yes. And it’s incredibly dangerous. It’s important to keep you with us until it’s caught. Usually these creatures hibernate for decades at a time, and this one wasn’t due to surface for several more years. When they come up, they’re hungry and/or looking for a mate.”

  Larry hadn’t been hibernating or looking for a mate — but he’d found one. Mine, his wolf whispered.

  “I’m ready for bed now,” she said quietly, and she lifted the book in her lap. “May I borrow this book?”

  “Of course,” Walter said.

  If She Wasn’t Careful, She’d Attract Fruit Flies

  JOAN SLEPT FITFULLY. WHO WOULDN’T, what with creatures chasing her and wolves changing into men? And Walter Clemmons, historian, claiming that all of this was true.

  She’d lain awake for several hours, pondering everything that had happened to her.

  Finally, sleep had overtaken her and she’d fallen into a restless slumber. At seven the next morning, she was already up, showered and dressed.

  Still tired, but running on adrenaline.

  She needed to speak with Walter again. She wanted to know more — to know everything!

  She believed she was in danger from that horrid creature, so she was willing to stay in town until they captured him. She never wanted to be in his hideous clutches again.

  She entered the combination kitchen and dining room and the delightful smell of frying bacon made her mouth water. Walter and Larry greeted her, and Walter set a plate with bacon, pancakes and syrup, and hash browns in front of her.

  “Thank you, Mr. Clemmons.”

  “Please, call me Walter,” he said, then went back to the stove.

  He was dressed in business casual — slacks and a button-down shirt — while Larry was in his uniform. He must have had an extra one in his vehicle.

  She realized there was a very good reason that women liked men in uniforms.

  She ate quickly and drank a glass of milk, followed by a small glass of orange juice. She’d been hungrier than she’d thought. “So,” she said, “what’s the plan for today?”

  Larry said, “We’ve been brainstorming options.”

  “I love brainstorming sessions,” she said with a smile. “What did you come up with?”

  “First, we have to convince you that the paranormal world is real.”

  She shrugged. “I spent hours last night going over that in my mind. I think I already mostly believe it.”

  “But not totally.”

  “No,” she said with a laugh, “but only because then I’d sound certifiable.”

  “Are you okay with us sounding certifiable?” Walter asked. “As long as we’re keeping you safe?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “All right.” Larry took her plate and set it into the sink full of soapy water. “Since the creature is tracking you with his nose, we need to change your natural scent.”

  “I have perfume in my suitcase.”

  Walter shook his head. “That will mask your scent, but not change it. We need to do something more ... paranormal.”

  “This is so weird,” she said. “What do you want to do to me? To my scent?”

  “We have a coven of talented witches in town who can cast a spell to actually change your scent until the creature is caught.”

  She chuckled. “All right. I’m scared of the creature. I called it Nigel, so it wouldn’t seem so scary, but I was scared. I’m willing to suspend disbelief for a while.”

  “The catch is that the coven is out of town for a long weekend. They won’t be back for at least three days.”

  “And the monster can find me in three days,” she guessed.

  Larry nodded. “Most likely.”

  Walter paused, then added, “There is one witch who is still in town, but her powers are a little ... shall we say, glitchy. But she’s all we have until they get back.”

  Walter noted the concerned look on her face. “We can’t force you,” he said.

  “Actually, we could,” Larry said, “but we won’t.”

  “What could go wrong when she does the spell incorrectly?” Joan asked, worried. She didn’t even know what could go wrong if the witch did the spell correctly.

  “It shouldn’t harm you,” Walter said, “but it will not go smoothly. Maybe you won’t smell like yourself because you smell like an outhouse.”

  “Lovely image,” Joan said. She was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Finally, she said, “I’d rather smell like an outhouse for a few days than have the monster capture me. Let’s do it.”

  Joan didn’t have a clue what to expect from the glitchy witch, Triani Gryff.

  The woman lived in a medium-sized house, with each room painted a different vivid color. The effect was surprisingly cozy.

  She reminded Joan of a ditzier version of Betty White. She was about the same age as Betty, but her hair was frizzing out of control. And, like Betty, she had a welcoming smile. She wore a bright yellow housedress and bright lipstick. “Come in, come in.”

  Joan had been accompanied by Walter and Larry, as well as the sheriff and Tabitha, the female deputy. She felt reassured that the law enforcement in this town meant business when it came to keeping her safe, even if it was a wacky business that involved monsters, werewolves, and witches.

  Joan was beginning to believe that it really was true. She’d seen the monster and the changing wolves with her own eyes, and she wasn’t prone to exaggerations or hallucinations.

  When they were seated in the turquoise living room, Walter explained why they had come, and then added, “So we’re hoping you can help us in this emergency.”

  “I’m honored that you would ask me. I’d be delighted to prepare this potion.” That would have been more reassuring had the witch not looked so worried when she said it.

  Joan shook her head. Witch. How surreal.

  Could this woman really perform
spells that could change her scent?

  Triani Gryff jumped to her feet, spry for a woman who looked to be in her seventies, and motioned for Joan to follow her. As she did, the witch took her hand and lifted it to her nose, sniffing delicately. She sniffed at her forearms and shoulders, and along her neck. Now that was just freaking weird.

  Finally, Triani nodded, satisfied. “Yes, I can change your scent.”

  “How long will the spell last?” Larry asked, concern in his voice.

  “Guaranteed for three days, but may last as long as five.” Triani sounded confident now.

  “It’ll have to do,” Samuel said. “Thank you, Ms. Gryff.”

  The witch said, “I need to gather a few herbs and other ingredients in my storeroom. It shouldn’t take me more than twenty minutes to prepare the potion, if you’ll wait here.”

  She left the room, and Joan began to feel anxious. “Is this going to be safe for me to drink?” she whispered to Larry,

  He nodded. “Triani has never harmed anyone. Her magic is just ... eccentric and unique. Outside of the box.”

  “Pandora’s box,” Samuel muttered under his breath.

  Larry took her hand and squeezed. “You’ll be all right. And afterward, you’ll be safe from the creature until we can locate him.” He let go of her hand — reluctantly, it seemed, and she felt an odd sense of loss — and turned to the sheriff. “Has anyone sighted the creature yet?”

  “No, but we have three teams out searching. We’ll find him.”

  Tabitha came to sit beside her. “Triani cast a spell for my mother — oh, five or six years ago — when my mother came down with cancer. Triani cast a healing spell.”

  “Did it work?” Joan asked.

  “It sure did.” Tabitha smiled. “And the only unique feature of the spell was that my mother’s skin is now a beautiful shade of pink. She looks like she has a sunburn all the time. But a sunburn beats cancer any day.”

  Joan laughed. “Thanks for sharing that with me. It actually makes me feel better.”