Free Return of the Wolf Man by Jeff Rovin Page B

when the castle was auctioned in 1948 my great-aunt was the only bidder. Nobody wanted the goddamned place!”
    “The government doesn’t care!” Pratt said. He stepped closer to her and put his hands on her arms. She shrugged them off. “Look, I understand your disappointment in the situation—and in me.”
    “Disappointment isn’t the word.”
    “Fine,” Pratt said. “Think what you want. But there’s nothing I could have done about any of it. I feel as violated by this as you do. But they would have gone in with or without us. At least if we’re here, we can make certain they do this with a minimum of inconvenience and as much respect as possible for Ms. Raymond’s wishes. Steve Banning is a good man. He’ll open the basement up and as soon as Porterhouse has had a chance to poke his head in we’ll close it again, no harm done.”
    “Except the betrayal of Aunt Joan’s trust.”
    “That’s right,” Pratt said. “And I’ll feel sick enough about that without you holding a serious grudge. Look, I didn’t return to LaMirada to make money. I came back because I love the town and I love its people. I loved your great-aunt most of all. I would never have done anything to hurt Ms. Raymond, and I did everything I could to try and spare her feelings. I succeeded in that but I couldn’t prevent the rest. It happens sometimes, and there’s nothing you can do but roll with the blow.”
    The young woman looked down. She shook her head. “This is a sick joke. My great-aunt wills me her home and a trust fund and the first thing I have to do is let someone punch holes in both of them. Talk about vampires.”
    “I’m the one who’s letting this happen, not you,” Pratt said. “You don’t take title of the Tombs until the deed is transferred and it can’t be transferred without the assessment.”
    “Another lawyerly distinction.” Caroline sighed heavily. “I thought this place would be a retreat from the world. A haven from unpleasant realities. I guess not.”
    Pratt hurt for her. Having to deal with dashed dreams, let alone the notion of her aunt scowling in the afterlife, were the last things she needed right now. He stepped toward Caroline and took her arms again. This time the young woman didn’t wriggle away.
    “Your great-aunt made me her executor because she trusted me,” Pratt said. “I’m asking you to do the same. If Mr. Porterhouse sets so much as a toe outside the law, I’ll step on it. I promise.”
    Caroline took a deep breath. “You did love my great-aunt, didn’t you?”
    “As though she were my very own blood.”
    “And when we’re finished here, we’re going to restore everything so that it’s just as my aunt left it?”
    “I had Mr. Banning cannibalize an old wall outside of town so we could use the same year, same make of bricks that are there now.”
    “All right, Mr. Pratt. We’ll do this your way. I know this is difficult for you and I’m sorry I made it worse.”
    “There’s no need to apologize,” Pratt said. “We were both looking out for a great lady in our own way.” He glanced up the winding stone path, which wound through a long stretch of gnarled trees. The ancient trunks and branches seemed as black as the castle, the limbs tightly interwoven. Beneath their canopy, day seemed to become night. Pratt turned toward the sun as it dipped toward the sea. “I suggest we get inside. I told them not to go in until we got there, and Steve is a veteran LaMiradan.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Like many natives, he’s a hard-core believer. He gets seriously creeped out if he’s in the field after dark.” Pratt winked. “That’s why I wanted to return to the mainland after the funeral and do this late in the day. Gives them less time to muck around in there.”
    “I see,” Caroline said. Still smiling, she gave Pratt’s hand a little thank-you squeeze. Then they strode along the dock to the island.
    Pratt felt a little shiver himself as he walked toward the