Chapter Two
Agatha’s wasn’t the only wolf sighting that night. The small seaside town of Cryer’s Bluff had over fourteen calls to the police station about a huge, shaggy wolf that had been seen in backyards and parks. Locals had been warned to stay indoors and avoid heavily wooded areas. They were reminded that if they saw a wild animal they should not try to engage with it, but should instead seek shelter and call the police. Agatha had been the only person to see a second white wolf.
Agatha didn’t return home until the next afternoon. She went to a friend’s house and slept fitfully on the couch. Her nerves were on edge all night. Even the smallest of noises from outside, like leaves rustling or a twig snapping, would pull her from her sleep, jerking her awake, leaving her breathless. It was all too strange and too wild. Agatha’s life was a simple and quiet one. She worked in an office building, she drove a Ford, she just wasn’t used to this level of strange danger.
It was a bright and sunny afternoon when she returned to her house, but the pleasant weather didn’t put her at ease. Stepping out of the car she could see a paw print in the mud. It was sunk deep down into the mud, the claw marks stood out in stark detail. Whatever had left this had been huge, it must have weighed a ton.
Skirting the paw print Agatha looked around her. The wind whispered through the trees and the grass. She could hear birds chirping to each other in the forest and she watched as a squirrel skittered up a knobby oak tree. Her stomach churned. This was her home, her favorite place in the entire world, but it was tainted now. She had never been as afraid as she had been last night.
Her hands were shaking as she pushed her key into the lock and opened the door. She closed the door and locked it behind her. Taking a deep breath, she moved through her kitchen and to her living room. Her heart was pounding and she was still shaking. It was driving her crazy. She was home now and she was safe, so what was making her so nervous?
Agatha jumped when she heard a noise from outside. She peered through her sliding glass door to her wide back yard. On the back patio, there was a table, a few Adirondack chairs, and a couch. It sounded like something had just moved out there. Agatha moved towards the glass slowly, her cell phone clutched in one hand prepared to call the police.
Step by inching step she moved closer to the door. Her heart was thundering in her chest as she peered around the curtains. At first, everything looked normal. The grass was a verdant green, her daffodils were in full bloom and the furniture was where she had left it.
Then she saw it. There was a hand hanging over the back of the couch. Her heart skipped a beat when the hand moved. She moved to the side to try and get a better view of who might be out there. She raised her phone debating if she should call the police.
The hand continued to move, it was pulled back to the other side of the couch. For a breathless moment, she waited and then a head came into view as whoever was out there sat up. He was tall and had a head full of dark black hair. She could tell by his build that he was strong, his shoulders were muscular and those muscles extended down his arms and back.
Agatha’s mouth fell open as the man ran a hand through his hair and then turned around. With a gasp, Agatha quickly hid behind her curtain. It was her boss. Well, not really. He ran the company where Agatha worked. He was at the top of the totem pole and Agatha, who worked in accounting, barely merited a place on the pole at all.
She was frozen, hiding behind a curtain when it occurred to her that this was her house and her land. It wasn’t her, but Mr. Crane who should be hiding. He was the one who had fallen asleep in someone else’s backyard, not her.
Taking a deep breath Agatha pushed open her screen door and marched out onto the patio.
“Mr. Crane?” Her voice came out high-pitched and more scared sounding than she had intended. He turned to look at her and all of her bravado left as she stumbled on the grass.
The couch was between them and he turned around to face her. Agatha saw that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She tried not to stare, but she couldn't help but notice the many scars that marked his strong chest. Some were deep and old, with the skin wrinkled and puckered around them, while others still had a tinge of red that marked them as new. She wondered how a man as rich as Mr. Crane had come to have so many scars.
He looked her up and down and then sheepishly looked away.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“I um... must have had a little more fun than I expected to, last night. I’m so sorry that you found me like this...” He looked around and gestured to himself and said. “Do you have a robe I could wear and could I trouble you for your phone so I could call a car?”
Was he naked? She wondered. Was he actually naked on her back patio? That didn’t sound like Mr. Crane at all. His family was famous in Cryer’s Bluff, the town had almost been named after them. Crane Antiques were considered the best antique and custom furniture outlet in the world. Henry Crane, who was currently sitting naked in front of her, was the CEO and principal shareholder. He had graduated from Harvard. His family had never had even a whiff of impropriety against them. The Cranes were perfect. They were rich, intelligent, well-travelled and, above all, incredibly attractive.
“Sure, just a sec,” Agatha managed to sputter as she hurried inside, grabbed her bathrobe and headed back outside. Her eyes focused on the treetops behind them as Agatha handed Mr. Crane her robe which he quickly belted around himself.
She still couldn’t believe that Henry Crane was in her backyard. She had worked for him for the last eight years and had only ever seen him in passing. He was notoriously private. He wasn’t an actively social man and people rarely saw him outside of his mansion up on the bluff.
“Here,” Agatha said holding out her phone. It hung in the air between them as he looked first at it and then up at her.
“I am sorry, Agatha. I am sorry that you have had to see me like this. I promise I don’t make a habit of sleeping in my employees’ backyards.”
If only he did, she thought wistfully. A naked man on the property sounded very dangerous unless it was this man. Henry Crane could show up in her backyard naked any day he pleased.
“You know my name?” She stammered tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he took her phone.
“Of course, I know your name. You’re one of my best employees.” He said it in such a casual manner that Agatha for a moment thought she had imagined it. Mr. Crane actually knew her? It seemed impossible.
She knew him of course. She knew everything about him. He was thirty-four years old. He had been born here in Cryer’s Bluff. He had inherited the family business from his father and it had only grown more successful under Henry. He wore dark suits to work and drove fancy cars.
Agatha rarely had a reason to speak to Mr. Crane at work. He had a fabulously attractive assistant that did most of his communication for him. He always seemed so far away and untouchable, but that had never stopped Agatha from dreaming about him. She had several elaborate fantasies that involved Mr. Crane sweeping her off her feet and taking her away to some private island where the two of them could be alone to do whatever dirty deeds she could imagine.
“You’re lucky, you know. When I came home last night there were these two huge wolves fighting on my property. It's a wonder you didn't run into them.” Agatha said with a shake of her head.
It was at that moment that a stunning realization hit her. It was like a ton of bricks had just been thrown directly at her stomach. She lost her breath and the world spun in front of her as the thought seeped into her brain.
Huge wolves acting strangely at night. A naked man in the backyard. No. It was impossible. They were just stories, not real. There was no such thing as Werewolves and to even say that word in front of Henry Crane would be madness.