more guns than Owen had ever seen draped over a single person, even in Afghanistan.
The door closed, eliminating the sunshine and the man. Krazy let out a relieved breath. “I’m glad he left. He makes me nervous.”
“Can’t imagine why. What’s up with him?”
“He said he’s hunting wolves.”
Owen doubted the fellow had been hunting them with the pistols at his hips, but he’d also carried a rifle and a shotgun. “That legal?”
“Gotta have a permit, and they ain’t easy to get, but yeah.”
“It’s wolf-hunting season?” Seemed early but what did Owen know? He’d never hunted anything but terrorists.
“Mid-October to February. Though if the quota’s met, they end it early.”
“You get a lot of wolf hunters in here?”
“He’s the first.” From the twist of his lips, Krazy hoped he was the last.
“You don’t approve of wolf hunting?” Owen asked.
“I don’t know. They say there are too many now. They’ve been protected so long. But around here I’ve only seen one. Black as the ace of spades.”
Owen must have started because Krazy’s gaze flicked from his perusal of the back door to Owen. “You’ve seen her too?” He didn’t wait for a response. “She’s beautiful, and she doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone.”
She’d bothered Owen, and Reggie too for that matter.
“They say wolves steal small dogs, cats, chickens, calves. Sometimes an old horse or cow. But I’ve never heard of any being lost around here.”
Apparently the “lost” animals that had been found in Owen’s house had not been widely reported. Which was odd considering every stray cat was usually cause for a bulletin. Three should have been front-page news.
“Wolves are hard to find,” Owen said. “I’ve heard that wolf hunters have to bait them, like bears.”
“True,” Krazy agreed.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“There’s something about that guy…” He shook his head. “Weird smells coming from his cabin.”
“Probably sauerkraut.”
“I know what sauerkraut smells like.”
“Kielbasa?”
“It was more metallic.”
“He was cooking metal?”
“I don’t know, dude.”
“You didn’t ask him?”
“He said he was making his own bullets.”
“That would explain the metal.”
“I’ve smelled melting lead. This wasn’t it.” Krazy shifted his shoulders, uneasy. “He creeps me out.”
He’d creeped Owen out too, and he’d only caught a glimpse of the guy.
“Well, if creepy were against the law, half the world would be in jail.”
“Preaching to the choir, brother.”
Krazy was a lawyer. Guess he’d know.
“My place isn’t next to his, is it?” Beggars couldn’t be choosers but still …
“Nah. He wanted the cottage closest to the woods.”
“I bet he did.”
“Yours is up front. Closer to the bar, right?” He held up a hand, and Owen slapped a high five. “But after this week, it’ll just be you and him, so you could move wherever you want. I’m not full again until the weekend before Thanksgiving.”
“Gun deer hunting.”
“Right.” Krazy seemed like he wanted to high-five Owen again, but it was too soon. “You from around here?”
“I was,” Owen said. He really didn’t consider himself from here any more. He was a soldier. His home was the United States Marine Corps.
At least until it wasn’t.
“Visiting family? I know how it is. Visiting’s one thing. Sleeping in the same house’s another.” He tapped the keyboard of his laptop. “You’re good for a month if you want. Though who wants to visit family for a month? Unless they’re in Italy or something, right?”
“Right,” Owen agreed.
He hadn’t planned on being here more than a week when he’d arrived. Hence the sleeping bag and Coleman lantern in his truck. But more than a month?
No way in hell.
Owen took the proffered key and drove the white truck, which he was starting to think of as his, even though it wasn’t, to cabin number 4. He could have walked there, but then he’d have had to leave the truck in front of the tavern, and at this time of day, that would cause talk. At the least someone might walk over to see who was drinking at eight A.M., and once they discovered his name—he hadn’t told Krazy not to share it; maybe he should have—then they’d knock on his door and one thing would lead to another.
All of it annoying.
Owen parked at number 4, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door, Reggie at his heels. In the distance, a gun boomed. For a minute he was afraid the wolf hunter had bagged one, even though it was broad daylight. But the guy stood on the porch of the cottage closest to the woods, staring into them.
A second shot sounded, and Reggie did a little spin in the grass, then