Page 14 of Bewitched by the Werewolf (The Bewitching Hour #5)

My first stop after leaving Tess at the lake is Ginger’s.

I need her to dig up as much information about Theresa Rowland and possible.

I memorized her driver’s license information which Ginger can verify in a matter of minutes.

I could run her info through my system back at my office, but all that will give me is her name, address, and criminal record.

Ginger’s search is more…thorough. I’ll get the entire picture on who Tess Rowland really is, not just who she pretends to be.

Because she doesn’t strike me as the star gazing sort.

I highly doubt she’s in town just to witness an eclipse.

No on intentionally comes to Snowberry who isn’t non-human or knows someone living here.

There’s more to her story and I’m going to find out what.

Ginger’s apartment is located in a small complex only a few blocks from the center of town.

It’s the only apartment complex in town and has a dozen units spread through a handful of two-story buildings.

They’re pretty low key, no locked gates or codes for entry.

Just a standard lobby entrance with mailboxes and a place for people to hang their wet jackets during the winter and boot drying racks.

They’re empty now, since it’s barely fall yet.

“Hello, brother. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“I need you to look someone up for me.”

At the tone of my voice she perks up, on alert. Her blue-grey eyes brighten with intrigue as she steps back and ushers me inside. “Step into my abode and do tell. Who am I digging up dirt on?”

She shuts and locks the door behind us, even though Snowberry hasn’t had a break in or burglary in years.

The space that’s usually reserved for the living room, where normally there would be a couch and coffee table, is instead filled with a giant curved desk and numerous computer monitors.

On one screen I see the image of her front door from her hidden security camera.

Ginger plops into her seat and spins to face her many computers, her fingers already clicking away at her keyboard, pulling up windows and programs.

“There’s a new female in town, human I think. Theresa Rowland. I need to know everything there is to know about her.”

“On it.”

In a clicking frenzy, she types commands into the computer and clicks on windows and logins, no doubt accessing federal databases and social media sites.

It takes a few minutes of process of elimination, when we find multiple Theresa Rowland’s.

Apparently, there aren’t very many names that aren’t duplicates anymore.

When I spot a familiar face and locks of fiery red hair Ginger delves deeper into her background.

“Okay here we go,” Ginger sits up taller and leans into her monitors, reading out the information she’s discovered. “Thirty years old, born in Philadelphia, graduated high school but there isn’t any record of college. There is however something else very interesting.”

I step closer and lean in over my sister’s shoulder trying to decipher all the tiny font on the many screens.

There’s a lot of information pulled up and I’m not sure which thing she’s referring to.

“What? Does she have a record?” If she’s got a record, it’ll be easier to force her out of town if she misbehaves, I’m already considering possible reasons to threaten her with.

“Yes, but that’s not the interesting part. She’s been institutionalized.”

I frown, my brows pinching together in surprise and disbelief. “Like padded room, straight jacket kind of institution?”

“Not quite that extreme, but yes. Her family had her involuntarily committed when she was seventeen. Give me just a second and I can pull up her medical records…Yup okay, here we are. She was committed because she believed werewolves were real—huh.”

We’re both stunned silent while we scan through the doctors’ notes on Tess’s sessions at the institution.

For a moment I feel like an ass reading her personal conversations with her therapist. It’s hard to imagine the smart-mouthed redhead I met today as insane and committed to a looney bin.

I suppose she isn’t really insane though, is she?

She believes werewolves are real, and in a sense we are.

It’s one of the many names humans have given to shifters over the years.

The most popular one in fact. The myth of us only turning on the full moon brought on because that’s the only time a shifter might not be able to control their shift and be spotted.

There are dozens of files documenting Tess’s time at the facilities.

Numerous therapy sessions, medications, reports of violent outbursts and subsequent “punishment.” It’s a side of the human world we don’t see very often.

We only see when they’re trying to out us, not the aftereffects of their rantings or memory loss after being fairy dusted.

We just assume they go back to their lives and keep on living.

None of us see when humans go to the extreme to try and fix someone who happens to believe in the paranormal or strange.

I thought people had stopped trying to convince other’s things like werewolves weren’t real.

There’s so many out there now online talking about alien abductions and yeti sightings, we just assumed no one cared anymore. I guess we were wrong.

I stop reading through the doctor’s notes on her “psychosis and delusions on the existence of mythical creatures” because I feel bad for her.

She wouldn’t be the first human to be considered crazy because they believed in non-humans.

But for some reason I don’t like that they treated her so poorly when all she spoke was the truth.

My muscles bunch in irritation and a desire to punch this doctor in the face for his ignorant theories and complete dismissal of her claims.

Ginger clears her throat and continues clicking documents and windows, closing out the one with the doctors rather insensitive notes.

“Looks like her stint in the funny farm didn’t stop her obsession with werewolves.

She left the institution after a year, but soon after she started her website, werewolvesarereal.com .

Guess the doctor’s insistence on our non-existence wasn’t convincing enough. ”

She clicks open a link and pulls up the website.

There are photo’s, all blurry, bad shaky videos, first, second, and third hand stories from people who believed they saw werewolves.

Some might be actual sightings of shifters but none of what’s posted is clear enough to prove anything.

There’re all kinds of links to other sites and “evidence” of sightings.

There’s also a blog on her own searches or what she refers to as hunts.

The posts go back years, a dozen at least. She’s been after shifters for over a decade. She has to be one of the most dedicated people I’ve seen. Even after being forced into a mental hospital to “cure” her of her belief, she still believes. Stubborn and thickheaded, sounds familiar.

“She hasn’t posted anything specific yet about Snowberry.

It’s all very vague. She hasn’t even mentioned it by name, that’s why the site didn’t pop up in my scans.

She’s claiming to have received the information on our location anonymously and doesn’t want to reveal her location yet. I guess that’s good news for us.”

Ginger does some more aggressive typing, this time into one of those black screens like in the movies that’s all code and gibberish I don’t understand.

“She’s good too. Redirected her IP so if anyone tried to trace it would think she was somewhere in the middle of Canada. I kind of respect her for that.”

My sister sounds impressed, which is not an easy task. That doesn’t mean she isn’t going to be trouble or at some point tell others about Snowberry.

“Anything else I should be aware of?”

“Besides her being a snoopy werewolf hunter with a website? No, I think that’s the gist of it.

There’s not much online activity anywhere else and from what I can see of her phone records she doesn’t have many friends and doesn’t call home much.

Definitely a loner. I can keep an eye on her site and remove anything that might point in our direction, easy enough. ”

“Okay good. Keep me updated.”

“You’re not going to just dust her and send her on her way?” she asks.

I consider it. It’s what we do with a lot of humans who find their way to us.

The problem here is she’s been obsessed with werewolves since she was a teenager.

So much so that she was committed. Dusting her to forget the last couple days won’t do much good.

Fairy dust can only erase or alter a person’s memories for so much time.

Sometimes it can work up to a few weeks, but beyond that it gets tricky.

There’s too much history and memories associated with shifters and hunting them to alter her memories.

Eventually she’d end up right back here, which would only be confusing for the locals.

“I don’t think that’ll work on someone with so many years of shifter obsession.

I think the best course would be to convince her there’s nothing of interest here and have her leave of her own accord, thinking we’re nothing but an odd little town that doesn’t require further investigating.

If she concludes on her own that this was a dead end, it’ll be better for everyone.

Last thing we need is word getting out this could be a hot spot for werewolf activity. ”

Ginger nods in agreement. Even her stubborn ass has to concede that diverting attention away from us is a good thing.

And since this isn’t just a post on a website she can delete, that means I’m in charge.

I check the small satchel at my utility belt that holds the sack of fairy dust I always keep on hand just in case.

It’s secure and still plenty full if I need to use it.

“Let me know if you find out anything else important. She hasn’t admitted why she’s really here yet. Telling some story about wanting to witness the blood moon through a clear sky. Which means we might be stuck with her till then, which is not ideal.”

There will be dozens of extra shifters in town for the eclipse and all of them will be shifting and running through the woods that night.

It’s going to be a difficult task keeping her away from them.

Guess that means I’ll be keeping a close eye on Miss Rowland.

Exactly what I wanted to be doing right now. I’m a sheriff not a babysitter.

“Let the others know not to shift unnecessarily, or in the public woods around the lake. She’s staying in a trailer at the far end of the campgrounds. I don’t want to risk her spotting anyone out for a casual evening run.”

“Got it.”

Ginger immediately picks up her phone and starts texting.

I don’t ask what she’s saying or who she’s texting, I trust her to word everything appropriately and tell those who need to know.

This will at least keep most shifters in human form and away from Tess for the time being.

At least until I can figure out what to do with her.

First, I have to get her to confess why she’s really in town and then convince her there have been no sightings or strange events that might suggest werewolf existence.

Anyone else would probably call her crazy and claim werewolves aren’t real, but I can’t do that to her. Not after knowing what she’s been through in her past. I’ll just have to be persuasive enough that she believes she’s looking in the wrong place. I may want her gone but I’m not cruel.