The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 118

“Oh, no?” he frowned a little, as if he didn’t quite believe me. “And where did the crews of workers come from who are removing rubble and moving bricks, as if they were going to build a five-star hotel on your property?”

“Luke, I’m telling you I haven’t hired anyone. Who is working on my property?”

At first, I must admit, I was quite frightened.

When the sheriff finally understood that it wasn’t my doing, he did me the favor of taking me to the former site of my house, and I confirmed that there were indeed two trucks, a small crane, three mobile trailers, and at least twenty people in yellow helmets working on the land. They had already cleared all the burned debris and the basement; and they were installing the new boiler when we arrived. At that moment I didn’t connect it with anything, and I nearly had a nervous breakdown. What was happening!?

I asked to speak with the foreman. Very obliging, the man explained to me, as if everything were perfectly normal, that he worked for an Australian construction company called Faraday Brothers, and that the blueprint had already been approved by the chief architect.

He showed me the blueprint and the three-dimensional drawings that accompanied the project: it was a replica of my old house, down to the smallest detail.

I didn’t know what to say. Nor did I notice at the time that Luke was quite nervous the entire time, never stopping looking at the workers.

“…does none of this truly ring a bell to you, Johanna?” he asked me while we waited for the foreman to bring all the paperwork authorizing those people not only to be in the country, but to work on that land. “The foreman is a wolf-man. And so are the chief electrician and the

master builder. I’m sure there are a few more.”

“Really?” I asked, looking around me with wide eyes.

“I think I already know what’s going on. Don’t say anything and let’s leave soon. We’ll talk

later.”

The papers and permits of all those workers were in order. Luke couldn’t object to anything,

not even in his capacity as county authority, and once I was certain that the contract was perfectly legal, there was little more I could say. Of course, I also looked with great interest at the foreman, as if expecting the man to transform into his semi-animal form in front of me. He had something of Richie about him-very tall, enormous, with kind light blue eyes. I couldn’t see his hair beneath the safety helmet, but I would have bet anything that it was black. Luke had advised me not to say anything, so I didn’t; but the man (who introduced

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himself as Wayne Faraday, said he was a cousin of the company’s owners) ended the conversation by assuring me that no later than two weeks from now they would hand me the keys to my rebuilt house, and that I would be very satisfied with the result.

I did not doubt it they all looked very professional and worked very fast.

On the way back to Luke’s house, we kept talking and came to the conclusion that no one but Alexander could be behind it. Had we met anyone else connected to the events who had the

means to undertake a project like that, with such speed? There was no way to be sure,

because the foreman assured us that the owners of Faraday Brothers themselves had signed the contract for that job, so there was no proof, but to me it was more than obvious. If that wolf-men had paid me eight million dollars to keep his secret, if he had saved my life more then once and had said he owed me much more, how could I not hope-even if it was small and foolish-that the gesture was his?

If it was true, that was the first news I had had about Alexander in many days, and the mere idea did me so much good that my mood lifted for quite a while, and I smiled again with genuine sincerity.

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Chapter 118-2

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Chapter 118-2

It no longer hurt me as much as before to be certain that, very likely, I would never see him

the calm I felt was intense.

“Well… everything is fine. How’s the weather over there in Moscow? Very cold?” I asked foolishly, because I just wanted him to keep talking.

There was a sigh on the line, and then he said:

“No, actually I’m in Düsseldorf. They took us all to Hans’s clinic; it’s a safe location.”

“Oh. I see.” I raised both eyebrows, surprised.

Düsseldorf, Germany.

“…How are you?”

“Fine, fine, I think. I’m staying at Sheriff McCord’s and his wife’s place for a few days. But everything is fine. Are you okay? You were… pretty bad, the last time I saw you.”

“I’m going to survive,” he assured me confidently.

“…I’m glad. What did they do to you?”

“A few stitches in my mouth and eyebrow, minor surgery on my arm, they put in titanium screws… they drained my lung because the bullet wounds Hans had operated on reopened and I broke a couple of ribs. They shaved about half my scalp. Almost nothing, right? In short, I have to stay until I can breathe properly; the ribs are my biggest problem right now. Hans’s own people are handling my case, so no one will ask indiscreet questions.” He paused again and continued. “They told me I could be out of here by Christmas. The fractures will take at least another three weeks, but I don’t want the children to spend Christmas Eve with me in the clinic, so it’s fine. I’ll get used to the cast.”

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