We pulled into the driveway of a house in a nice-looking neighborhood, and I start to wonder if there aren't security cameras around; the last thing I need, or anyone for the matter, is a criminal record. As if he read my mind, Remy turned and reassured me, "There aren't any security cameras. This guy is dealing drugs, so he wouldn't want any proof of his own wrongdoing around."
"He's just a dealer right? I don't want to be exposed to the chemicals that might be lingering around a drug lab."
"Definitely just the dealer. We have a possible lead on the manufacturer, but nothing concrete."
Remy turned to me as he said, "manufacturer," so I'm assuming he's referring to my mom. I will never cease to be amazed by Eleanor's common sense. I would have never thought about possibly being exposed to toxic chemicals in a drug lab.
The four of us made our way to the bright white front door, Eleanor's parrot on her shoulder.
"Can I pick the lock?" I turned back to face the group as I approached the door.
"No, we have a key." Justin replied.
"How did you get a key?" Eleanor asked curiously.
"We stole it." Remy smiled uncomfortably. Eleanor immediately stopped and gasped, as if she wasn't part of this plan.
"Well could I try to pick the lock and then we use the key if we can't do it?" I added.
"No, it could leave marks on the door that give us away!" Justin replies.
"What's the point of committing a misdemeanor if I don't get the full experience? I begged, hoping they would at least let me try.
"You can come over and pick the lock to my room sometime if you want." Remy smirked.
I didn't reply to Remy's offer. Something told me that it worked to serve him more than me. Oh well, I'm sure I'll have the chance to pick a lock at some point in my life. Justin pulled out the key and let us into the house.
As we walked inside I expected the interior to be run down, or at least poorly maintained, but it was spotless and elegantly decorated with Renaissance-style portraits. Wait, why is the face in that portrait replaced with a dog face?
I scanned my head around the room. Wait! Why is every face in all the portraits replaced with the face of a dog? Eh, he deals drugs; I shouldn't question things too much.
We continued walking through the house and into what appeared to be the living room.
"Do you think this is the homeowner's picture?" Eleanor asked after pointing to a picture.
"It is," Justin affirmed.
"Okay, but lowkey why is he," Eleanor smiled before pausing, her face burning. If her skin was fairer a blush would have been evident.
"Hot," Justin finished her sentence.
"Yes. Shouldn't he look more aged or gross if he does drugs?" Eleanor added, giggling with Justin.
"I don't think he does drugs, I think he just deals them." Justin replied.
"If he doesn't do drugs, why is every portrait in the house but that one filled with dog faces? Also, how do you know that's definitely him?" I asked, trying to get them to stop their awkward line of conversation.
My questions never got answered because Remy shouted from another room. He must have wandered off while we pondered the house owner.
We took a moment to find him and then gathered around a closet full of men's clothes with a safe in the bottom.
"Justin, what do you think?" I turned to him.
"It's definitely a drug safe." He replied confidently.
"That's what I thought." Remy added.
"How do you know it's a drug safe?" I asked.
"We can smell it." Justin said nonchalantly.
"How can you smell drugs through a metal safe?" I pressed. It made no sense.
"I trust it." Eleanor added, "But we aren't here for drugs. We need something more interesting. Something that would make it more than a simple drug bust. I'm not risking my record for a boring story, afterall."
"Everything is digital nowadays. Do you think the evidence could be on a laptop instead?" I wondered out loud.
"Ooh! Yes, we should look or a laptop or tablet for sure." Eleanor cooed.
We spread back out among the house, each searching a different room.
As we looked, I came across a room filled with boxes and books. The walls were covered in pages that had been ripped from the books, all related to differing werewolf myths across the world. Most of the pages, however, were related to Norse mythology and the wall was completely free of anything Celtic, which tells one a lot.
Norse legends of werewolves stem from the wolf Fenrir, Son of Loki the trickster god. Fenrir was seen as a threat and chained, but he broke free and was believed to have killed Odin before being killed by Odin's son Vidar, the god of vengeance.
The death of Odin was named Ragnarok and was seen as being an apocalyptic event that sparked a rebirthing of sorts in the world.
By contrast, Celtic myths often view wolves as central protectors and defenders of man. The pages saved on the wall tell a story of not only a rich culture of the past but the mindset of the man who lives here.
I deduce that he believes that his drug business, which is being compared to the drugs used by supposed werewolves in the past by those using it, is somehow rebirthing and transforming the town of Gnawville. The page about the cleansing that follows Ragnarok is central in the room, showing that he truly believes he is creating a revolution of sorts.
If there is anything more dangerous than a drug dealer, it's someone with an occult mind. They aren't just giving teens drugs out here, they are manipulating kids and trying to induce lycanthropy—a mental illness in which one believes they are shifting into an animal—to create an army of minions who can do their bidding. It looks like the scheme behind my uncle's death is much more complicated than I could ever imagine. I was so focused on reading the room that I didn't realize Remy had entered it until he spoke.
"Elora, we found a computer. We think it may have data on it. We couldn't figure out how to login, so Eleanor is taking out the memory thingy. She thinks Conroy might be able to hack it if she brings it home to him."
"Great. I think this is way more an a few drug deals though. I think they might be inducing lycanthropy in the teens around here so they can manipulate them. I don't know what their agenda is but it's looking like things are much more dangerous than I originally thought." I added letting my imagination take the best of me. I wasn't entirely sure I believed in mythical creatures, but the people here did and whether they were actually turning kids into Lycans or not, they at least believed they did.
"More dangerous than your mom murdering your uncle." Remy challenged.
"Well yeah. She would never murder me, I'm her baby. But all these crazy people she's gotten herself tangled up with might not be the same. She is the one supplying the drugs right?"
"Yeah. I just didn't want to say anything in front of Justin or Eleanor. I saw her giving a duffle bag to the guy who lives here. I could have written it off as a doctor helping out a patient in need but this guy is too loaded to be in need. I also saw him hand her wads of cash."
"That actually adds up. She runs a free clinic every town we visit yet we have never been short on money."
"Well we better get going."
"You're right. We don't know when the homeowner might be coming back."
In this moment I realized that I had completely forgotten about the possibility of being discovered or caught. What if we make it out of the house only to be busted? After coming this far!
I started shaking as we went to make our way out. Remy and I met up with Justin and Eleanor at the entrance of the house. Then it was the moment of truth. Would we step out and be discovered or make it free.
I watched Justin turn the handle of the door, and slowly swing it open.
"Clear. Let's go."
We all started making our way to the car as quickly as we could, Justin taking time to relook the door before joining us. It seemed as though we were going to get away with it too until the neighbor of the guy decided to take our her trash.
"What are you kids doing over there?" She said with a thick accent.
"Nothing, just hanging out." Eleanor replied.
"You smell like burned chicken."
"Funny bird you have there. Haha. But it doesn't seem like you all are here to hang out. He isn't here either, so you couldn't have been visiting."
We all sat completely still in silence for a moment. We'd been caught and had absolutely no idea what to do.
"I hope you took all of his money. I'd like to see his face when it's all gone. He'll come crying to me asking if I saw anything and I can tell him to go back to the landfill where he came from. Trash!"
We might not have stolen his money, but his whole world will come crumbing down once we are able to get to the bottom of the whole scheme. I'd be willing to bet good money that what we are gonna find on that memory card from his computer will be juicy.