“They were invaders and thieves,” Henry agreed. “And that made them enemies. And meat.”

Simon felt the weight of Henry’s stare. The Courtyard’s spirit guide would either speak or whack him with a Grizzly paw.

“You’re not human, Simon,” Henry said in a quiet rumble. “You will never be human. And those who are human will always be meat.”

“Not all of them. Not anymore.” Then again, the way he, with the agreement of Vlad, Henry, and Tess, had chosen to punish the remaining thief was going to cause all kinds of upset among the humans.

He felt something shift inside him, a flutter of change there and gone.

He wasn’t human. Would never be human. But was he still, truly, a terra indigene Wolf?

• • •

Once Lizzy entered the Denby home to have breakfast with Sarah and Robert, Monty and Pete Denby joined Kowalski and Debany where the double’s walkway and the public sidewalk met.

“Something happened last night, and I don’t think it’s over,” Kowalski said, holding out the drinks holder so that everyone could take a coffee. “Meg doesn’t know, but Tess does. Her hair is red and green, and it’s coiling in that way that makes it look alive. The way she looked at me . . .” He shuddered. “Like she’s waiting for something.”

“What should we do?” Pete asked.

Monty considered the question and considered his men. Kowalski was in uniform, ready to go to work. Debany was in a T-shirt and denim cutoffs, since his official shift started later in the morning.

“Karl, I want you to stick close to the Courtyard for a while and keep an eye on things.” Monty looked at his own apartment building, then waited for the nod that indicated Kowalski knew exactly who needed watching. “Michael, you go on duty at your usual time, but keep your mobile phone handy until then in case Karl needs backup for any reason.” He looked at Pete. “The rest of you should go about your business like usual.”

“You think it’s safe for the children to go to the schoolroom?” Pete asked.

“I think, today, it’s the safest place for them to be,” Monty replied.

He pulled out his mobile phone and called the Chestnut Street station, requesting a car and driver to pick him up. He also talked to Captain Burke, reporting what he knew.

They lingered on the sidewalk, drinking coffee and talking quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“If a patrol car keeps checking the cairn, the Hawks or Crows will notice and report it,” Kowalski said. “Maybe Captain Burke can talk to the captain of the mounted patrol and have them check the cairn. They patrol Lakeside Park, so it wouldn’t look strange for an officer to ride past the spot.”

Pete looked at the three officers. “There’s a mounted patrol? Men on horses?”

“There was a mounted patrol in Toland,” Monty said. “Officers walking a beat too.”

“Here the officers on horseback mainly patrol around the park and the university, and the beat cops are mostly in the downtown area,” Kowalski said.

“With the emphasis on conserving fuel, the mayor and police commissioner may want to expand those ways of policing.” Monty thought of Jana Paniccia, the young woman who went to Bennett to become a deputy because she couldn’t get a job as a police officer in a human-controlled town. She was now patrolling with a horse and a six-gun. He wondered how she was getting along with the sheriff, who was a Wolf.

Officer Daniel Hilborn pulled into one of the on-street parking spaces near the double.

“That’s my ride,” Monty said. “I’ll check the cairn. If I don’t find anything, I’ll talk to Captain Burke about getting assistance to monitor the site.” He got into the patrol car and instructed Hilborn to drive to the cairn. It was a place in Lakeside Park, across from the Courtyard, where identification and other personal items were left when humans entered the Courtyard uninvited. When that happened, there wouldn’t be a body to find, so the ID left at the cairn was the only means the police had to fill out a DLU form that a family needed in order to get a death certificate.

But there was nothing at the spot where hunters had stood the night they killed Daphne Wolfgard and tried to shoot Sam. Nothing tucked among the stones. No wallet, no keys, no ration card or driver’s license. Nothing.

Returning to the patrol car, Monty called Kowalski.

“I called in the license plate,” Kowalski said after telling Monty about the van parked in the Stag and Hare’s lot. “We checked the glove box. No insurance card or registration. But the passenger side door was unlocked.”

“If the owner doesn’t show up in a few minutes, have the vehicle towed to the station.”

“Yes, sir.”

Monty ended the call. After a minute, he realized Officer Hilborn was watching him.

“Where to, sir?” Hilborn asked.

If you leave a vehicle, why not lock all the doors? And why would the driver exit from the passenger side? But there were ways into a vehicle that would leave no trace—a window open a crack to let in fresh air, the air vents, probably other ways he couldn’t name. Any opening that smoke could flow through would provide access. Easy enough then to remove any material that had a person’s name or address. Easy enough to unlock the passenger door and leave with the material.

It also would have been easy enough to relock the passenger door. Oversight or deliberate?

“Back to the station,” Monty said. “But I’d like you to remain available as a driver today.”