Hairwolf
Chapter Twenty

Foster’s snooping around the ditch where Stef had parked her truck. It’s definitely out of place and spiking his curiosity. He notices the tire tracks along the rim and the carved markings used to create the ditch.

“Why would somebody dig a ditch and drive over it?” Foster asks.

“Maybe they drove in and then had to dig the ditch for engine repairs. It almost looks like they used a garden troll, doesn’t it?”

He scoops up a handful of soil and smells it. “But there’s no oil, no grease.”

“What were those two girls driving,” Brizzbee asks.

“Chevy Tahoe.”

Brizzbee climbs out of the ditch just as Warden Charlie arrives in his truck. He exits with K-9, Rowley.

Brizzbee is excited to see Rowley. “Hey, Rowley. How ya doin, boy?”

The warden walks K-9 Rowley around the area. Rowley finds the bed of pines where Stef slept and takes a seat. Charlie rewards him and searches the bed. It’s odd, but nothing stands out. Rowley crosses to the ditch and follows a scent trail over to the tree where Lillian stood. Again, he sits. Warden Charlie rewards him and finds nothing of interest – at first. Then,

“Got something,” Charlie says. “Pair of torn leather gloves.”

Foster’s phone rings as he crosses to the gloves. “Warden Foster.”

Brizzbee takes the gloves and notices the torn leather running along the tops of the fingers. Very odd. Rowley wants them back and latches on to them.

“No,” Brizzbee says. “Let them go. Rowley, let them go.”

“Back. No,” says, Charlie.

Charlie finally pulls him off. But then Rowley takes an interest in Brizzbee’s shirt. Especially where the Creature-Stef grabbed him while pulling him out from the boat trailer. Rowley wants the shirt and tackles Brizzbee to do so. Brizzbee’s rolling around on the ground with him, fighting him off, but it’s all in play.

“Uh, anytime there, Charlie.” Brizzbee asks. “Rowley, stop. Stop. Down. No.”

Rowley drags Brizzbee around by the sleeve. It’s a tug of war and Rowley’s winning. Foster watches, shaking his head.

The warden again has to call him off. “Rowley, no. Out!” Rowley releases Brizzbee’s shirt.

“And this is why I don’t like you playing with him. You’re gonna get hurt and it’s going to be his fault.”

“Relax, Charlie. You know I love this little guy.”

“I don’t understand why he wants your shirt,” Charlie says.

“I’ve been out here all night. God knows what scents I’ve picked up.”

Foster, off to the side, remarks to the caller. “Really! Can you track it? Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

Brizzbee places the gloves in an evidence bag. He crosses back to the ditch, puzzled over it. Warden Charlie steps up alongside him …

“Who made that?”

“What I’m trying to figure out is why they made it. Looks like they used a garden troll or spade.”

“That’s not a spade. A spade is flat.”

“Hoe, then.”

“Hoe is also flat, but it’s bent at the elbow. Garden troll is much smaller.”

“Rake?”

“Don’t do a whole lot of gardening, do ya Brizz? Those marks weren’t done with a rake. Looks

like a four-tine cultivator. Think of a pitchfork with a bent elbow and four smaller tines; Forks. See em? They’re all over the place. Almost looks like claw marks.” Charlie turns to Rowley, “Was that you digging in the dirt, boy? Who was that? Was that you? Wasn’t him.”

“Four tine cultivator, ah? You’re wasting your talents here, Charlie. You should be selling garden equipment.”

“Always looking out for the little guy, aren’t ya Brizz?”

“Men don’t talk like that, Charlie. I’m just tryin to help.”

“What a guy.”

The dry banter brings them both to smiles.

Charlie leads the dog back to his truck. Brizzbee directs his attention back to the pit. He needs to figure this all out. It’s a puzzle for sure. The ditch, the bed of pines and the glove. There’s a connection here. But what? He continues walking around and spies a large clump of fur on the ground. Very odd. It’s not from any creature he’s aware of. He places it in the evidence bag.

Foster, with phone to ear, walks up to the ditch, offering to Brizzbee - “I’m betting they used a rake on those walls.”

“Four tine cultivator,” Brizzbee says, adding, “thingy.”

Foster looks at him with absolute disgust.

“Hey,” Brizzbee says, “It’s what it is. I said, thingy.”

“You’re banned from talking to the press. Four tine cultivator. . . “Yeah, this is Warden Foster. How can I help you?”

Stef holds the pay phone to her ear. She’s tense. Scared. Unsure if this is a wise thing to do. It’s the right thing, but is it a wise thing? Lillian hovers close by, wanting to hear both sides. It’s a little intrusive and disruptive, but Stef suffers through it.

“Hi, Warden Foster. They tell me you’re the man in charge of the bear incident last night.”

“That’s right. How can I help you?”

“Well, I’m looking for the two wardens that were actually at the lake,” Stef says.

“And how do you know who was at the lake?”

Stef holds the phone to her chest. She doesn’t know how to answer him. Lillian gives her advice.

“Did he answer you’re question? Ask him again.”

“It’s very important that I talk to the men that were at the lake. Can you help me with that or not?”

“I can – me. I was there. Can you please tell me how you know?” Foster asks.

“No. I can’t. But I can tell you the woman you shot with the dart is safe. She’s fine. You can call off your search. We don’t need you wasting your time looking for her. Okay? Alright, good bye now.”

“...No, no, no! Don’t hang up. Hello? Are you still there?”

“I’m still here.”

“Good, good! Thank you for calling. That was very considerate of you. So she’s okay, ah?”

“Yes. She’s fine. A little wet, but fine.”

“Gee, that’s great. Where’d you find her?” Foster asks.

“I didn’t find her. She was – we were together most of the night. Okay, goodbye now.”

“Um, Miss. I really need more than that – you know what I mean? I need to be sure.”

“Why aren’t you sure,” Stef asks? “I just told you she’s fine. You don’t need to be wasting man hours looking for somebody that isn’t lost. She’s right here next to me. Say something.”

Stef holds the phone close to Lillian.

“I’m okay,” Lillian says. “You can go home now. Call off the search. Oh, and I won’t be suing anyone for shooting me with the dart.” Stef pulls the phone away from Lillian, offering …

“Happy now? She’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, Miss, but that could be anybody. A phone call from a complete stranger isn’t going to prove anything?”

“Great. I got Columbo on the other end. So what do you want, agent Foster?”

“I’d like to see her and you in person. If you are who you say you are, you’ll know why I’m asking

that.”

Brizzbee, listening in, helps him - “Where was she last night?”

Foster gives him a thumbs up - “And if you don’t mind, may I ask where you were last night? If

that was her, where were you?”

Stef is stuck again and mentions to Lillian - “He has somebody helping him.”

Lillian pushes her with, “You can’t get into that right now.”

“I can’t get into that right now,” Stef says into the phone. “You’ll have to trust me. You wouldn’t believe me any. . .”

“. . . I’d like to trust you. I’d like to meet with you. Can we meet? Talk face to face. I have a lot of questions. You realize I just can’t call off a search based on a phone call. I have to have proof of life after knowing what I saw. And like I said, if you were there, you’d understand.”

“Oh, I understand,” Stef says.

“Can I ask who I’m speaking with?”

Stef is reluctant to answer. Lillian pushes her -

“Tell him...”

“...I’m not going to tell him who I am.”

“You don’t have to give him your full name. Just your...”

“...I’m not giving him any name. They have ways of tracking you with a goddamn letter...”

“We’re not sending him a letter,” Lillian says.

“Letter from a name. Not a stamped – how’d you get out of college?

“Really? You wanna do this now? Throw him a goddam name and shut the hell up.”

“I’m not gonna lie.”

“Oh, like you haven’t lied before. This whole thing is a lie.”

“When have I lied?”

“You’ve been lying to me for the past eight years.”

“That wasn’t lying. I told you I was going to Maine, I just never said why. Not that you ever asked. Barely even knew I was gone.”

“I knew you were gone. I just thought maybe you had a special relationship you didn’t

want to talk about.”

“Special relationship … with who?”

“Someone. You know. A woman. I really thought you were gay all this time. You’re so affectionate.”

Stef is a-gasp at the suggestion.

“Oh, come on, Stefanie. Gone every month. How did I know what you were doin?”

“That means I’m doin a woman?”

Stef crushes the mouthpiece to her chest, but it’s too late. Lillian realizes she just dropped her name.

Foster tries to interrupt them ... “Excuse me ... ma’am.”

Stef shouts at Lillian, “What is the matter with you?”

“...Hello … Excuse me. Ma’am.”

“What? Did you just say, ma’am? Do I sound like a ma’am?”

“I’m sorry. May I call you Stefanie?”

“You might as well. Maybe I should give the phone to my friend, Lillian so she can tell you where I live while she’s at it.”

Lillian’s jaw drops. She’s had it. She marches off in a huff. Stef tries to grab for her but misses. She then yells out … “Get back here … Now!”

Lillian turns, biting down on her balled fist. She wants to punch Stef and punch her hard but she’ll wait. Stef points to the ground by her side. Lillian walks into her, bumping her off balance.

Foster continues. “Stefanie, I’d really like to meet with the both of you in person. Can we do that?”

“Haven’t I helped enough? We’re really hungry and need to eat. I mean, how much more proof of life do you need? I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Lillian asks, “What’s he want?”

“He wants to meet us.”

“Tell him we’ll meet him if he buys us lunch.”

Foster interrupts again … “If I may, just. . .”

“. . .What?”

“You said I could quiz you. Would you mind?”

To Lillian. “He wants to quiz me.”

“Oh, good. I love a good quiz. What does he want to know?”

Foster clears his throat, politely, afraid to interrupt again. Stef hushes Lillian.

“I’m sorry. You wanted to quiz me. Go ahead. You’re probably just stalling to trace the call. Right?”

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