Far to the north where the forest grew as thick as it did on his own land, he caught the scent of the bull elk and longed for it, but didn,t go after it. He dreamed of fields of sheep, of scattering them with a roar, and chasing down the biggest to rip into its woolly neck with his fangs, and gorge himself on the hot breathing mutton.
But he wanted to remain unseen, unnoticed in his own territory, and was never too far away from Laura, in her bower of white lace and flannel in the big master bed, whom he would awaken on his return with beast paws and beast kisses.
But was it enough, these blissful nights in the enchanted woodland that was his own? It was the pale shadow of the raucous urban wilderness that lay to the south, beckoning with its promises of thousands of mingled voices. Garden of Pain, I need you. What were the songs of beasts to the cries of sentient souls? How long could he keep this up?
In a way, the days were easier, even with the police coming and going.
He studied all the werewolf literature, the books, the "reports" of man wolf sightings the world over, from the Yeti of Tibet to the Bigfoot of California. He combed the records of the world for mentions of the distinguished gentlemen over the mantel and found nothing.
He learned the house in all its different ways, thinking all the while that it might well be turned over to Felix in the days to come, but for now it was his, and he would continue to love it and know it. He searched now and then for yet undiscovered rooms and doors and so did Laura.
A band of local Nideck people came to the door. Nina, the little high school girl he,d met on his very first night here with Marchent, was used to hiking the forest behind the house, and Galton had warned them away. In tears, she explained what it meant to the locals to roam the property.
Laura invited the hikers in for tea, and a compromise was worked out. Anyone could hike the paths by day, but no camping at night. Reuben agreed to it.
Later on, Laura confessed that she knew what it meant to those people to be able to hike these woods, she really did. And sometimes she wished there were more of them around. There were times when she felt so utterly alone here.
"I,ve never been afraid anywhere ever in my life," she said, "least of all in the California forests. But I could have sworn yesterday there was somebody out there in the trees, somebody watching."
"Probably one of those hikers," said Reuben with a shrug.
She shook her head. "Not like that," she said. "But you,re probably right. And I have to get used to it here. It,s as safe as Mill Valley."
They agreed it might well have been one of the reporters.
He didn,t like her being worried by anything. He was confident he would hear and scent anyone of malevolent intent. But she couldn,t. And he resolved not to leave her alone unless it was absolutely necessary.
He moved heaven and earth to have a big mechanical gate installed on the private road that led to the property, just to stop the vehicles of the reporters who were now revisiting the site of the original Man Wolf attack in light of Stuart,s growing fame. Of course the reporters and cameramen came on up the road on foot, but at least they couldn,t drive to the front doors.
Galton said over and over the story would die down like it had before, not to worry. He had a small crew coming and going to renovate the bedrooms on the front of the house, with new wiring, fresh paint, and all the appropriate electrical and cable connections.
This is what it means to live in such a house, Reuben thought, or what it would mean for a while. The quiet would come again. And so might Felix.
Laura took the conservatory in hand and made of it a splendid paradise, with giant weeping ficus encircling the smaller orange and lemon trees, while she brought flowering vines of all sorts - honeysuckle, jasmine, morning glory - to climb the iron-ribbed walls with the aid of delicate trellises. There were potted rose trees now with picture-perfect blooms. And the orchid trees were fully recovered from their long journey and heavy with spectacular blossoms. Laura slipped small virtual-sunlight lamps into nooks and crannies to supplement the pale northern sun. And a handsome Victorian white enameled woodstove was found to take the chill out of the room and provide a warmth the plants would welcome, as well as Reuben and Laura dining every night before the fountain on the white marble table.
Halfway into the week, Reuben astonished himself.
He did not know quite why he did what he did. But he found a small secondhand computer shop in Petaluma that did not have video camera surveillance and, dressing in his hoodie and sunglasses, he purchased there two laptop Apple computers for cash.
He was angry with Felix for vanishing without a word. He was sick with worry about Stuart. He was ravenous for the succulent evil of the southern cities.
And so he created an e-mail account under the name Vera Lupus exclusively for one of these computers, and wrote on it a long letter from the Man Wolf to the San Francisco Observer.
This letter was a great sprawling uncontrolled document and it was really an angry appeal to Felix Nideck to please come back and help him!
All he had to do to send it anonymously was drive into any city, park somewhere near a hotel or motel, beyond camera reach, and hook up to its Wi-Fi network, and hit SEND.
No way could the e-mail be traced back to him or to anyone.
But he didn,t send the letter. It was too full of pleading and rage and admissions of not knowing what he was doing. It was too full of self-pity that "there was no wise guardian of secrets" to guide him. It was his own fault, wasn,t it, that Stuart,s life was at risk? How could he blame Felix for this? One moment he wanted absolution and understanding. The next he was wanting to hit Felix.
He held on to the Man Wolf,s letter. He hid the computer in the old steamer trunk in the cellar. And he waited.
There were long dark times when he thought, If that boy dies, I will kill myself. But Laura cautioned him that he could not leave her, or leave himself, or leave the mystery - that if he meant to do something so brutal and terrible to himself, then he might as well give himself over to his mother and to the authorities. And when he thought of what that might mean to Felix, well, he backed off from all such ideas entirely.
"Wait for Felix," she said. "Keep that in your mind. When you become like this, think: I will not do anything until Felix comes. Promise me."
Jim called more than once, but Reuben could not bear the thought of telling him about Stuart. He got off the phone as quickly as possible.
As for Laura, she was battling her own demons. Every morning, she went down the long steep perilous trail to the beach and walked for hours near the cold banging surf. (Reuben found the path just about impossible. And the ocean wind turned him into a block of mean-spirited uncooperative ice.)