“I highly recommend it,” he concluded with a sniff.
I nodded and cracked a window. Pietr’s was open. “Thanks, guys, but I don’t think tea is going to help.
Hey, while I’ve got the three brightest guys from Junction High at my disposal”—they blushed—“what do you guys think about this recent teen suicide trend?”
“Tragic,” Smith concluded.
The others nodded.
“Okay, I’m rephrasing. Why do you think we’re seeing a sudden rise in teen suicides?”
Smith cracked his knuckles, the sound reminding me of the noise Pietr’s joints made sliding from their sockets during his change. “I tend to believe we aren’t seeing a rise in teen suicides but rather with the growth of media coverage we are more able to bring such stories to the public.”
“You think there’ve always been the same number of suicides in the area?”
“There are, of course, differences in the numbers related to the growth of population. The easiest way to confirm my belief would be to do a quick comparison chart between the populations over the past few decades and the numbers of teenage suicides, breaking it into a ratio or percentage—your choice.”
decades and the numbers of teenage suicides, breaking it into a ratio or percentage—your choice.”
“A chart? Yee-aahh. Anyone else have an opinion?”
“It’s not so much an opinion as a bit of information I read online.” Jaikin signaled me to lean in. “I’m not al owed to name my sources.” He grinned.
“Oh. Them,” Smith muttered with a rol of his eyes.
“What? Who’s them? ” I asked.
“Jaikin indulges in fantasies of a conspiratorial nature,” Smith said, picking at his fingernails and clearly disapproving.
“Are you a conspiracy theorist?” I teased Jaikin.
He blushed. “I give room to al possibilities.”
“He flat out denies Occam’s razor,” Smith remonstrated.
I wondered what Smith would think if he discovered he was sitting two rows behind a werewolf. “Have you considered that sometimes life is so complicated, slicing things down to the simplest answer like Occam suggested isn’t good enough?”
Smith got quiet. He was crushing on me—he wouldn’t argue.
“You’re fascinating,” I assured Jaikin. “Tel me about this theory related to the suicides.”
“It seems the most recent suicide victims left behind interesting notes, journals—”
“Actual y a blog,” Hascal interjected, wheezing.
“Right. The blogger journaled every night, leaving detailed notes of what he did and what he saw.”
“Did they have something in common?”
Hascal pointed to me and touched his nose. “Yeth!”
Jaikin continued, “They al either wrote something, drew something, or claimed to see something related to werewolves.”
I stiffened in my seat. “Werewolves?” Without looking, I knew Pietr’s body language mimicked my own.
“Now she sees my point,” Smith declared. “Not so much fascinating as gul ible, aren’t they?”
Jaikin said smugly, “You’re just jealous. You want to be fascinating to Jessie, too.”
Smith glared back.
“Werewolves,” I whispered.
“It’s one of myriad possibilities.” Jaikin shrugged.
I rubbed at my arms, chasing a chil away at the thought the Rusakovas were linked to the suicides. “Tel me what else you’ve heard.”
“Since you asked … these werewolves—some cal them loup-garous or hamrammr—”
“Or oborot, ” I added.
“What language is that?”
“Russian.”
Al three sets of eyes turned to Pietr. Smith twitched, and Hascal’s eyes widened behind his thick glasses, giving him a distinctly owl-like appearance.
“What? I can’t know something from time to time?”
Hascal patted my arm. “You’re fathinating, too, Jethie.”
Jaikin concluded, “So, one group believes the werewolves have set up people to be kil ed on the train tracks.”
The memory of standing blindfolded on the tracks moments before Pietr shoved me out of the way was so fresh in my mind a shiver rattled me. “Why?”
“Do they need a reason? Would a werewolf—a creature at least as much beast as man, a monster—hold to the same principles we do? Maybe it’s just fun.”
I couldn’t fathom what raced through Pietr’s mind.
“Murder as a pastime? Sounds like pure human evil to me,” I proposed. “Any other opinions?”
“Some have suggested it’s not the werewolves doing it, but people who want to keep the werewolves secret,” Jaikin added.
“What? The werewolves are spotted and some clandestine organization takes out the witnesses?” My heart sped at the possibility, but I shook my head. “Any other options?”
Smith cleared his throat. “The only other option is the option. Teens have a reputation for being dissatisfied. Our hormones are horribly out of balance, choking off our brain’s higher functions whenever we notice someone has a nice rack.”
“That must be why you can’t do calculus whenever you’re in the same room with Jessie,” Jaikin chuckled.
Pietr’s shoulders shook with laughter.
Smith looked like he’d sucked on a lemon.
“So,” I said. “Smith, you were saying…”
“Most of the time we’re simply unhappy with what life hands us. We struggle to find our place. In the world and in our families. Life is tumultuous. As the stressors become greater, it’s only natural the wil to survive becomes less in certain members of our species.”
“So to you, suicide is an example of survival of the fittest?” I hoped my dismay could be read on my face, but uncertain, I added, “That’s cold, Smith. I may agree with you on lots of other things, but…”
The van pul ed up to Golden Oaks and I hopped out first. I shot a look at Pietr and he sighed, resigning himself to meet the greater good. We quickly clarified who was partners with who and taking which of the local animal shelter’s animals on our rounds.
Smith was miffed that Pietr and I had reunited. “Is this because you’re angry with my answer?”