Priceless

there was no way out for him.
    I shook off my melancholy and walked down to the office, Alex tight against my leg. He was very literal, which was always good to remember.
    The office was quiet when I stepped in, the creak of the door the only noise. “Mary?” I called out. John should have been off his night shift by now, his wife Mary taking over in the early hours of the morning. There was no answer. I tried again. “John? Hello, anybody?”
    A shuffle from behind the back door and Alex began to growl. I wrapped my hand through his collar. No need to make matters worse and have Alex making more werewolves.
    Another shuffle, and the door opened. “Checking out, Ry? Kinda early, ain’t it?” John wheezed out.
    I blinked. “Yeah. You okay, John? You look like you’ve pulled an all nighter.”
    He blushed. “Maybe you of all people would be the one to believe me. I got a funny feeling near the end of my shift last night. Hairs I got left all stood up on end and I got the feeling like I needed to have all the lights on. Find a shotgun and protect the homestead. Weird, huh? I didn’t like what I was feeling, so I told Mary to stay in bed and lock the door.”
    His description didn’t really surprise me. Humans don’t like the feeling those from the veiled world give off, even though we all pretty much live side by side. It seemed Alex was right; it had been his pack leader. She was quite the bitch and the amount of power she carried around could make even the strongest heart stutter. She must have set old John’s spidey senses into overdrive. His rheumy eyes looked up at me and then flicked down to the large black dog at my side.
    Before he could ask, I cut him off. “This is my dog, Alex. He followed me here and I didn’t have the heart to leave him out in the Jeep. If there’s an extra charge or penalty for having him in the room . . .” I trailed off at the look John was giving Alex.
    “Never seen a dog quite that big before. Seen a wolf once. ‘Bout that size.” He stared up at me, his mind behind the rheumy eyes far more shrewd than I gave him credit for.
    It was my turn to blush. “I guess, if you say so.” I pulled out two one-hundred dollar bills, more than twice what the room was worth for the night, and laid them on the counter. “Will that cover it?”
    John smiled at me. “That’s fine, Ry. You and your . . . dog . . . are always welcome here. He don’t bite, do he?”
    I shook my head. “No, of course not. I’d have to have him euthanized if he was to start that sort of thing.” My hand tightened on the collar. Alex may be simple, but he wasn’t stupid and he was very sensitive to the vibes people threw off. His tongue lolled and he kept his eyes lowered.
    We left the motel, heading west on I-94, stopping only for breakfast at a McDonalds drive-thru, mostly for Alex. I ordered a coffee, black, for myself and a breakfast sandwich to ease my hunger pangs. Alex had three sandwiches, a stack of hotcakes and a large hot chocolate that he lapped up eagerly. There were still some very human things about him, despite his less-than-human exterior.
    “Ready for a road trip, buddy?” My hands already on the wheel, my fingers licked clean of the fast food grease.
    “Road trip!” Alex howled out the window, which set the dogs in the area into a frenzy.
    “Back in the Jeep,” I said as I leaned over and rolled the window up. He slumped in his seat and gave me his best hound dog eyes.
    I let out a sigh. “At least wait till we get on the interstate. Then you can howl out the window all you like. All right?”
    His eyes lit up and his tongue lolled out past his wicked sharp teeth. I laughed at him and hit the gas as I drove up the on ramp. At least this trip would be anything but boring.
    If only I knew how true that would turn out to be.

~11~
    I t was his day off. He should have been relaxing at home, not rehashing a case, but he couldn’t settle himself down. For some reason, Adamson’s digs still stung. It didn’t help that he knew she was out there hunting for India. Picking up a sheaf of papers he had on his retro black-and-white kitchen table, he flipped through the pictures.
    India, the missing girl, showed a distinct resemblance to a young Adamson. He put the two pictures side by side; although Adamson was in her teens when her picture was taken, they looked close enough to be sisters, and
that
was a little spooky. Both of them had auburn hair that fell in waves, and there