"Ashe does it all the time; he and Sali make a game of it," Aedan agreed. Ashe shifted his mist uncomfortably at the sound of his own name.
"I will do some sniffing in the garage, then." Radomir walked toward the broken door.
"Will you recognize this scent again?" Nathan asked Radomir later, after Radomir searched the garage.
"A werewolf was certainly here," Radomir observed, "but the scent is strange. As if it has been mixed with something else to nearly destroy the scent, somehow. I don't know that I could truly connect it with anyone."
"Pat Roberts' disappearance could certainly be connected," Nathan suggested.
"Of course, and we will demand to see his home," Radomir inclined his head in agreement. "But that will still not guarantee that I can distinguish the scents. I wonder how this was accomplished." The Enforcer was definitely puzzled over the scent.
"Let's go to Marcus and let him know. He may have a way to get into Pat's house," Aedan walked out of Old Harold's garage. Ashe waited outside the house as Nathan closed the door. Silently, sadly, Ashe said good-bye to Old Harold.
"So, he's dead, then?" Marcus asked later, standing in his brightly lit kitchen.
"Yes. There is some scent there, likely werewolf, but it is confused, somehow," Radomir stated flatly. Ashe, hovering over his father's head, desperately wanted to drop onto his father's shoulders and hug him. He would certainly be in trouble if he did that, so he held himself away and watched while Sali's father paced.
"We have nothing on Pat," Marcus growled. "Message after message left on his cell and no reply. We'll go over there now, but Micah and I went earlier. There's no sign of him."
"I only wish to get the scent," Radomir said.
"Then come. The autopsy can be performed afterward. Mr. Winkler and the doctor are at the O'Neill's now, but they know things might be put off for a little while." Once again, Ashe misted inside his father's SUV, but the vehicle was becoming crowded. Marcus climbed into the back seat and rode with Nathan. Ashe was hovering in the cargo area as his father drove to Pat Roberts' farm.
"It looks as if he hasn't been home for at least two days," Marcus observed, once they were all inside Pat's small farmhouse. It only held one bedroom, a kitchen, the small sitting room and a bath, with no lower level. Ashe had spent all his life in a home where most of the rooms were below ground. He felt exposed, somehow, in Pat Roberts' house.
"I can't tell," Radomir was sniffing around the house. "This makes things so much more difficult."
"How did Harold die?" Marcus thought to ask.
"Beheading," Aedan growled. Marcus didn't reply; he merely nodded. "Old Harold didn't kill that boy," Aedan said. "You don't know what he was—who he was—before. I promised not to tell while he was alive. But since he's dead, now," Aedan didn't finish.
"Then who was he?" Marcus demanded.
"How good are you with Roman history?" Aedan asked.
"Not good," Marcus admitted.
"Wealthy Roman families at times employed Greek tutors for their children. Harold was a Greek scholar teaching language and mathematics nearly a thousand years ago. He cared for the children he taught. You never knew that he might have taught the children of Cloud Chief Greek and Latin. Better than anyone else, more than likely. Yet he settled for being a janitor and cleaning the school at night, before helping Nathan and me guard the perimeter. Harold would never harm any child from this community. It wasn't in him." Aedan shook his head.
"And now he's dead. Just like that." Marcus flung up a hand. "If Pat did this, I promise I'll kill him myself." Ashe wanted to shiver at Marcus DeLuca's words. "Come on, the doctor's waiting." They trooped toward Aedan's SUV. Ashe had no desire to be anywhere near when they cut into James's body, so he misted home instead.
"Ashe, are you in there?" Adele was banging on Ashe's bedroom door when Ashe misted inside the house. Hurriedly he slipped under the door, materializing immediately and opening the door, feigning a yawn.
"Sorry, Mom, I fell asleep," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Ashe felt guilty for lying to his mother, but he'd had no desire to stay behind and miss the chance to learn what happened to Old Harold.
"Your father called a few minutes ago. Old Harold's dead."
"Mom, that's awful."
"I know, honey." Adele pulled Ashe into a tight hug.
* * *
"Who cleaned?" Sali began complaining the moment he set foot inside the school Wednesday morning. It smelled strongly of disinfectant and that offended every student's nose, but the werewolves most of all. Old Harold had somehow struck a balance that wasn't overpowering when he used cleaning agents.
"Don't know, but I don't like it much," Ashe agreed. The one thing he could say was at least the trash was emptied and the floor looked clean again. He still felt bad about Old Harold, especially after his father explained who the old vampire really was. Ashe heaved a weary sigh. He could have asked Harold so many questions, and now that opportunity was lost forever. News of Harold's death was all over school, giving students yet another topic for their daily gossip. Ashe itched to ask Sali if he knew what the autopsy revealed. His chance came when they sat down in Transformational Arts.
"Did you hear anything? From the doctor?" Ashe whispered, kicking his book bag beneath the desk.
"Yeah. I wasn't supposed to, but I sneaked halfway down the hall so I could listen while they talked in the kitchen," Sali whispered back. "Dude, you cannot say anything. Promise."
"Promise," Ashe agreed.
"They said James's heart exploded. Like a bomb or something. Dude, that's just not natural."
"You're kidding. That's not possible. Are you sure you heard right?" Ashe couldn't believe what Sali was saying.
"I heard it, all right. Just don't tell, okay? Dad will be mad for sure."
"Mrs. Rocklin's coming," Ashe hissed and students rushed for seats as the class quieted.
* * *
"Honey, Denise says the witch will be here tomorrow to renew the concealment spells. Denise will be going out with her, so Sharon O'Neill, Wynn's mother, will pick you up after school."
"Okay," Ashe nodded and stared at his plate. He'd eaten two pork chops; he couldn't help himself. Maybe he was growing again, besides being able to turn. "Mom?" Ashe looked up at his mother.
"What, hon?" Adele asked.