Morning comes in a jiffy. I and Olly are still lounging in the bed. Last night’s sickle moon has been replaced by a warm, orange sun. It’s eight in the morning and my room is flooded with a golden yellow light.

I feel rested. Rejuvenated. While the last night’s cool moon made me restless, this morning’s sun roots me to the ground. Its glorious warmth spreads through my body in a warm caress. My brain centres in its shell. I am relieved that I can think straight again.

Yesterday's messy puzzle feels already simple. I do not care if Mrs Bates is a witch or not. I want to find her, anyway. I do not know if I and Olly are werewolves or not. All I know is that these people cannot oust us from this place.

Phyllis is wrong. If our grandpa was really the chief here, we have every right to be here, werewolf or not. No one has the right to kick us out.

“So, what’s the plan?” Olly sits up, rubbing her eyes.

“The plan is to buy us more time.” I get up and stretch myself. We are not scared. And we will not be bullied out of what is rightfully ours.

“For that we need some bargaining chips.”

“We’ll have enough of them. Just get me your makeup bag.”

“My make-up bag?” Olly looks flabbergasted. “Danny! Don't tell me you are planning to offer the ogre makeup?”

I snort. Not a bad idea. It will be a big improvement, but unfortunately, it won't make him any more tolerable. I have other plans.

“Just get it Olly. We’ll need it before we go down.”

I push her out to bolt the door to stand against it. I need to play this right. We must stay here as long as we can to try to find the truth. And in the meanwhile, I plan to give these people a taste of what’s it like.

*****

We get ready and climb down the stairs dot at the stroke of nine. Today it’s a full house. John presides the breakfast table flanked by Phyllis and Adam on either side. The rest of the family follow after them in the order of age. Tina sits at the end looking slightly lonely and aloof. Her eyes light as she sees us.

“Danny! Olly! I was waiting for you!”

She taps the seat next to her, inviting us to join. We start towards her when John calls.

“Today, Danny and Olivia will sit with me.”

We stop in our tracks. Umm... Did we hear right?

“Yes, come along. It’s been two days since you arrived, and we never offered you proper hospitality. I think it’s high time.”

John glances to his right, where his eldest is sitting. He looks stunned, as if his father had just told him to give up his inheritance. On his left, Phyllis looks scandalised.

“But John! This is against our rules. In this house, we have always followed the rules of hierarchy. It’s Adam’s place. And this is mine.”

She sits squarely, as if someone is physically wrenching her away. I suppress my snigger.

“It’s just for today, darling.” John smiles at his wife, but I see there is something else in his voice. “The girls are having a difficult period. It doesn’t harm us to be a bit nicer to them. And it’s not like you’d cease to be my wife if someone else sits here.”

Right! The entire table has gone quiet. Everyone looks on, expecting something to happen and that something is Phyllis giving up her place. Apparently, it has never happened before. She was probably born with her butt glued to her chair.

Will it happen today? Will she do it? Will the sun rise in the West?

Apparently, today is the day it rose to the West. Phyllis gets up menacingly, throwing me a haughty glance, then turns to John.

“Alright, honey. If you say so. I’d rather sit with my girls.”

She stalks two seats down and wedges herself between Gabe and Tina, who dutifully shuffles up further down.

Adam follows the suit to move down a place, but not before shooting me a red-black arrow.

Ouch!

We take our seats, and John motions to the servers to begin. A couple of girls who I have not seen before come out carrying yummy food. There is bacon, and sausages and hot cinnamon rolls. My stomach grumbles loudly.

“I am sorry your first days here have not been very enjoyable,” John starts as he pours Olly orange juice. “And your stay here is marred by complications. But I promise to make it easier as we go forward.”

Sure. I don’t understand what he means. Is he planning to disinherit his son? Divorce his wife? Or is this a ‘Be Nice to Humans Day’ that werewolves celebrate once a year (provided they are werewolves)?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I know yesterday must be a shock to you,” John continues, not unkindly. I feel a laser piercing me right from my diagonal opposite. Olly is sitting next to Adam, with her eyes on Gabe, who is next to me. It’s a kind of cross connection I would have preferred to avoid.

“It was a shock,” I agree solicitously. “Especially when grandma sent us here with so much trust. We did not expect this kind of welcome.”

I say this to John, but my eyes are on Adam. He chews his bite as if he it's some particularly foul piece of meat.

“I agree, and apologise,” John says hastily. “Knowing that you are Rey’s granddaughters, you should have received better treatment.”

I nod sagely as I attack my sausages. I suppose this is the right time to swerve in action…

“Rey’s granddaughters? You mean Rey Armstrong?” Adam’s startled voice interrupts my thoughts. I look up to see him frowning deeply.

John coughs. “Yeah…I mean...”

“But our grandfather was Rey Hayward.” I correct them politely. This is turning into an unexpected fun. I glance at Olly. She too has stopped gazing at Gabe to join in.

John coughs harder. “Yeah… I mean, he was Rey Hayward-Armstrong. Hayward was his mother’s name and many times he preferred to use just that, especially when he was in the city. But around here, we know him by his father’s name.”

Good save. Full marks to John. I raise him a mental toast. The guy has got the presence of mind.

Adam looks confused, but shakes his head.

“So, about yesterday.” John continues his previous thread. “I thought about the condition Adam has put forth and find it a little harsh. You cannot possibly have any information on your housekeeper if you did not even know her that well. It’s a bit unfair of us to…”

“But… we might have some information on Mrs Bates,” I say smoothly, to John’s surprise. “I and Olly talked about this last night. We think we might be able to help you…no we must help you if you consider Mrs. Bates a threat.”

“Are you sure?” John looks surprised. Next to him, Adam has gone quiet. He has stopped eating and I have his complete attention.

“Yes,” I say merrily. “We have a few things that we would like to share. We first thought they were unimportant details, but we would like to share them, anyway. You never know what may prove to be an important clue.”

“And what kind of details are they?” Adam asks, his laser gaze trained on me. His red eye glows brighter, black eye dulls like a moonless night. I have a hard time deciding which one to look at. Finally, focus on his crooked nose.

“A few things. But first we have a request.” I answer, focussing on his half-and-half bridge. “We want to visit the place of the crash. We think we might find something there that will lead us to Mrs. Bates.”

*****

Ah hour later we are in a Jeep trundling towards the crash site. Olly and I sit in the back while Adam is at the wheel. Gabe has decided to come with us, for which I am eternally thankful. I do not wish us to be left alone with Mr Grue.

As a side effect of it, Olly is rendered virtually useless. She is pink in face and keeps steeling glances at Gabe. I am mortified to see my sister falling for yet another handsome hunk for the twenty-third time in her life. I wish he pays her at least some attention, but he looks totally unconcerned.

I sigh and peer out of the window. We have taken a different route this time, one that takes us down the mountain towards the main road from the camp and turns back into the jungle a few miles further down. It’s not a proper road, but more like a tentative path through the jungle. However, it looks much tidier than the one we took a couple of nights ago.

For one, it’s wider. The trees do not crowd the sides to block the driver’s vision. And more importantly, it’s daytime. I can see for miles as we climb up the mountain.

“Why didn’t they bring us back this way to the camp?” I can’t help my accusing tone. Gabe shrugs, answering me through the rear-view mirror.

“Ask Jeff. He and his troupe were on patrol duty that night.”

“Then what was your elder brother doing there?” I make a point to avoid saying the name. Gabe raises a wry eyebrow.

Lay it off…he says. Never.. I shrug.

“Adam was supervising. Night patrols are Adam’s domain; he is in charge of the security of this area. He has a knack of smelling trouble, and he’s never made a mistake before.”

I purse my lips. So he was here because he ‘smelt’ the trouble. It must be some special kind of nose which can smell a supposedly witchy smell from miles away. I wish I had that nose so I could have smelt him from LA and never made this detour.

My eyes flicker towards Adam. He looks as if he heard my very thoughts.

“It’s a special skill, Mr Winters. It’s called common sense. Unfortunately, not everyone is blessed with it.”

I humph and ignore him. Such snide remarks do not deserve the dignity of my response.

Finally, after a ride of more than two hours, we reach the spot. To my dismay, there is no boulder. Or any weird-shaped tree or any remnants of the giant animal I was supposed to have hit. Apparently, it was just Adam.

*****

In the light of the day, the place looks different. It’s quiet, lonesome, and slightly eerie. I scan the area, but it looks undisturbed, as if no car crashed there barely two nights ago.

“We moved your car to get it repaired.” Adam supplies helpfully. He is trailing behind me, keeping an eye as if I am up to some mischief. Gabe is behind him, keeping an eye on his brother, and Olly is behind Gabe. I know it must look comical, but I cannot help it. I wish Olly would come back to her senses. We have a job to do here, and I cannot do it with so many people watching. But the stupid girl is in her own la-la land.

I wander around looking for ditches, and dips or holes where Mrs. Bates could be lying in wait. I hope she is not there, but a tiny part of me wants it just to spite the man behind me.

He watches me like a hawk, and my back is tingling. Any longer and my shirt will be torn with holes.

“What did you do with the luggage?” I ask as I take a third round of the place, partly to distract him, but mainly to know what happened to the big navy holdall Mrs Bates had stuffed in the boot before we left. It had taken so much space, I had to leave my books behind to accommodate it. Olly obviously would not relinquish any of her possessions, which included precious shoes, designer clothes and a case full of makeup.

“We sent everything to your rooms.” Adam replies.

“I mean Mrs. Bates’s luggage." I clarify quickly. "She had a navy holdall in the boot. What did you do with it?”

“There was no holdall.”

“But… there must be. I put it in the boot myself. It was a big navy bag with a puma …” I fall silent. There is no point explaining. It’s clear that I am in the wrong again. It’s just another proof that Mrs Bates vanished with her luggage. She couldn’t even carry it from the house to car in LA, but here she has managed to disappear with it, as if by magic.

Where did she go? How did she manage it unless…

I shake my head to stop that train of thoughts. I am thinking like a superstitious illiterate. It took me like 5 seconds to believe Mrs Bates was a witch.

The afternoon sun slants on the horizon. I stop for a breath, taking a bottle of water from my backpack and start drinking, when my eyes fall on an object.

There it is. Shining in the golden rays, waiting quietly to be discovered. I rush forward and pick it up to hold it up triumphantly. I have found the clue I was looking for. In my hands is Mrs. Bates’s tobacco pouch.

***** *****