Against the Wild (27 page)

“I'm on it.” Dylan picked up his cell and punched in his brother's number. “I need another favor,” he said when Nick picked up. “We've got a name. Kyle Whitaker. Turns out he may have followed Lane up here. He's got a record for assault in L.A., just got out three weeks ago. Can you see if he's been in the Army? He could have been stationed at Fort Bragg.”

“I'll find out. Stay close to a phone, I'll call you back.” Nick ended the call.

“You gonna phone the police?” Caleb asked.

“Not yet. We need to get our ducks in a row. Chief Wills is going to need convincing, something more than we've got right now.”

“Even if Whitaker is Withers, there's no connection between him and Holly. Nothing but the fact the bartender saw him in Mad Jack's a couple of times.”

“First things first,” Dylan said. He reached for Lane's hand, tugged her over beside him. “I'm going to Waterside. We need to show this photo around.”

“I want to go with you.”

His gaze sharpened on her face. “Oh, you're going, all right. Until we know exactly what's going on, I'm not letting you out of my sight.”

It was noon by the time they were ready to make the short flight to Waterside. While they were gone, Caleb was going to look around, see if he could find any sign of the man Lane had seen outside the lodge last night. Paddy O'Ryan had volunteered to help.

“Caleb's a helluva tracker,” Dylan said. “He may be able to find something.”

“We don't really know who's out there. If he and Paddy go after him, it could be dangerous.”

“They'll be armed. They'll be all right.”

A chill slid through her. Kyle Whitaker had gone to prison for aggravated assault after beating a man so badly he had wound up in the hospital. She couldn't stand to think of something happening to Caleb or Paddy.

On the other hand, they needed to know what they were facing. Maybe the trip to Waterside would give them the information they needed. In the meantime, she prayed the men would be safe.

“Let's get going,” Dylan said, guiding her toward the door.

The sun was overhead by the time they started down the hill toward the float dock, where the plane sat bobbing in the water. They had almost reached it when Lane spotted Emily running toward them, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide. She slid to a stop in front of them.

“F-f-f-f.” She pointed madly and kept repeating the sound. “F-f-f-f.” But the word remained stuck in her throat.

Lane followed the direction of the small shaking finger—the side yard. “Finn! Oh, God, Dylan.” She started running. Dylan scooped the little girl up in his arms and ran after her. When they reached the yard, Lane saw that the gate was open and Finn was gone.

Emily pointed wildly.

“Did you see where he went?” Lane asked, worry pouring through her.

Emily shook her head and started pointing at the open gate.

Dylan set her on her feet. “It's all right, honey. He probably just wandered off. We'll find him.”

Winnie must have heard the commotion. She opened the mudroom door and walked out on the porch, Caleb and Paddy right behind her. “What's going on?”

“Finn got out,” Dylan said. “We need to find him.”

But Lane was already running up the hill toward the cemetery. “Finn! Finn! Come on, boy! Finn, Finn!”

Dylan started calling and so did Winnie, Paddy, and Caleb. They branched out in different directions, Winnie circling the house with Emily, while Caleb and Paddy moved off into the woods. Lane headed for the cemetery, hoping the dog had gone back to the place where she had been painting. But when she arrived, there was no sign of Finn.

Her worry mounted. It wasn't like him to take off that way. She thought of the moose and bears Dylan had mentioned. Had Finn run after some wild animal? Had the animal attacked him? Was he lying in the forest somewhere, hurt and unable to get home?

“Finn! Finn!” Her throat tightened. Finn hadn't been raised in the wilds of Alaska. The dog was as out of his element up here as she was. What had she been thinking to bring him with her? She should have known something could happen. It wasn't safe for a dog up here.

She stopped when Dylan came up behind her. She hadn't realized she was crying until he turned her into his arms.

“It's all right, baby. We'll find him. He's been here long enough to know where the lodge is. Even if he got lost chasing a deer, he should be able to find his way back.”

She looked up at him. “Do you think so?”

He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Yeah, I do.”

“He doesn't belong here. It's too dangerous out in the woods. I should have left him in L.A.”

Something moved across Dylan's features. “Maybe. But he's here now and we need to find him.” Turning, he headed farther up the trail, calling Finn's name.

Lane fell in behind him. What she'd said wasn't true. Finn loved it here. He was the happiest she had ever seen him. She loved it here, too. Maybe she and Finn didn't know their way around, didn't know one animal from the next, didn't know how to survive in the forest. That didn't mean they couldn't learn.

A kernel of something slowly broke open inside her. What if she stayed? Would Dylan want her here? Could she make him happy? Could she be the mother Emily never had? Was she up to the long winters and the remoteness?

She didn't know the answer.

She thought of the dog she loved and the lump returned to her throat. “Finn! Finn!” She continued up the trail behind Dylan. If Finn was hurt or dead . . .

She shouldn't have brought him, she thought again.

Maybe she shouldn't have come up here in the first place.

Lane just wasn't sure anymore.

He watched from his place in the high branches of a tree. Since he was wearing camo and hidden by the heavy pine boughs, they walked right beneath him, searching, calling the animal's name.

Damn dog.
He hadn't wanted to hurt him. He was usually in the yard in the daytime, in the house at night. But today one of the construction workers had left the gate open. The dog had spotted a squirrel on the other side of the fence and taken off after it. The squirrel had escaped, but the dog had picked up Kyle's scent. The stupid beast had tracked him all the way to the cave he had been using as a day camp, that he'd slept in a couple of nights when he hadn't felt like hiking back to the abandoned cabin four miles away.

He'd hated to kill the damn dog.

You shouldn't have done it
, the voice said.
He was only a helpless creature.

“I didn't have any choice. He tracked me to the cave. He could do it again.”

So what now? Lane doesn't want you. She's found someone else. You need to leave her alone.

Jealousy burned through him. He couldn't stand to think of Lane with Brodie. Couldn't stand to think of the man touching her, making love to her.

“It's my fault,” he said. “If I hadn't gotten into that fight, we'd still be together. I just need to spend some time with her, make her remember how good we were together.”

The voice in his head started laughing.
You're a fool, Kyle.

His features tightened. “I came here to get her. I'm not leaving without her.”

It hadn't been hard to find her. He'd hacked into her e-mail before he'd been released from prison, found her on Facebook. He'd started making plans even then. Now he was here, ready to execute those plans. He'd done the necessary recon, knew the area for miles around.

The cabin he had been staying in was only a few klicks down the road. It was clean and nicely furnished, a hunting cabin sitting empty, at least for now.

He glanced over at the well-oiled .30-06 he had found in a locked cabinet in the tiny bedroom. When he'd come to Alaska, he hadn't expected to need a weapon. But things had changed. He knew better than most how important it was to be prepared.

Just a few more days
, he told himself as the small group passed beneath him on their way back down the hill.

They hadn't found the dog. He didn't think they would, considering he had left its body at the bottom of a ravine.

Now he needed to get rid of Dylan Brodie. As soon as Brodie was out of the way, he would come for Lane.

 

 

They searched for Finn until dark. Caleb found some footprints, but they disappeared into the rocks near the top of the hill. By the time they returned to the lodge, all of them were exhausted.

Emily was inconsolable. She had closed herself up in her room and lay in bed weeping. Nothing Lane or Dylan could say could make her feel better. Lane knew exactly how the little girl felt.

She looked up as Dylan walked over to where she sat in the great hall, staring at the hearth. It was as empty and cold as her heart.

“Come on, baby. In the morning, I'll get some of the crew and we'll start looking again.” He reached out a hand, and Lane took it, let him help her up from the couch.

“It's a hard life here,” he said as he led her toward the hallway. “People freeze to death, get lost in the woods and die of exposure. Animals live by survival of the fittest. None of them die a natural death. I'm sorry this happened. I hope we get lucky and find him. But at least you can see why it would . . .” He broke off, glanced away.

“Why it would never work between us?”

Those incredible blue eyes swung to her face. “Yes.”

Lane made no reply. Maybe he was right. Maybe she could never make it in the harsh Alaskan environment.

She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “I appreciate all you did today. I know you had more important things to worry about than finding a dog.”

He caught her chin, forced her eyes to his face. “Finn's your family. While you're here, he's part of our family, too. We'll try to find him again tomorrow.”

She just nodded. Her throat was aching. Finn was lost and soon she was going to lose Dylan. She was in love with him. She hadn't considered even the possibility of that happening when she had taken the job in Alaska.

She had given herself this time with Dylan and this incredible adventure. She had finally put her grief for Jason aside. Now she would grieve just as deeply for Dylan.

Sliding her arms around his neck, she went up on her toes and kissed him. Dylan drew her against his chest and deepened the kiss. She could feel the hunger, knew he wanted her, and yet it was the most achingly tender kiss she had ever known.

She reached for his hand, started leading him down the hall toward the back stairs. She needed him tonight, needed him to hold her, make love to her. Neither of them spoke as they headed for his rooms upstairs.

If they weren't being so quiet, she might not have heard them: the soft, muffled cries of pain she knew belonged to Finn.

“Finn!” Lane raced into the mudroom, unlocked the door, and jerked it open. They had left the gate open in the hope he might find his way home. Injured and bleeding, he had.

Finn lay on the porch, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, his shaggy coat matted with blood.

Shaking all over, Lane knelt beside him. “It's all right, boy. I'm here.” She stroked his head, felt him tremble. “You're home now. You're going to be okay.”

“He needs a doctor,” Dylan said. “There's a vet in Waterside. Once I get the plane warmed up, we can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“I'll call ahead,” Winnie said, hearing the commotion and hurrying up beside them. “I'll let the doctor know you're coming.” The heavyset woman raced away, and Lane looked down at her big gangly dog.

Her throat closed up and her eyes stung with tears. “It's all right, boy. We're going to take care of you. We're going to get you well.” Her voice broke. Finn tried to raise his head, whined, and lay back down on the porch. At least he was still alive.

“Get some bandages,” Dylan said. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

Lane took off running, ran into Winnie, who had anticipated her needs and handed over gauze pads and a roll of flexible, self-adhesive tape, then took off to make the call.

Lane raced back to the porch. “Get the plane ready. I'll do this.”

Surprise flickered in Dylan's eyes. “You sure?”

She nodded. She could do this. She had tended her dying mother, though it wasn't the same. Still, she didn't have any other choice. “I'll take care of him. Go!”

As Dylan ran for the plane, Caleb appeared in the darkness across the yard, standing in the doorway of his cabin. Seeing them gathered on the porch, he hurried through the gate to join them. “Jesus, what happened to Finn?”

“I don't . . . don't know. He's badly injured. We need to stop the bleeding.”

Caleb crouched beside her. “Where's he hurt?”

Everywhere
, she wanted to say, since he was scraped raw all over and covered in blood. “I think it's his chest.” She searched through his fur, found the gash, pressed a couple of big gauze pads over the wound. “If you lift him, I can wrap the tape around him to hold the gauze in place.”

“You got it.” As gently as possible, Caleb lifted the big dog off the porch and Lane wrapped the elastic tape around him, pressed it into place.

Winnie appeared in the doorway with a sheet. “The vet is going to meet you at the dock and take him back to the clinic. He and his wife live in the apartment above. I brought this.” She held up a sheet. “I thought you could put him on this and use it as a stretcher to carry him out to the plane.”

“Good idea.” Caleb grabbed the sheet, folded it to a double thickness and laid it down on the porch next to Finn. Very gently, he lifted the dog onto the sheet.

“I'll get one end, you get the other,” Lane said.

Just then Emily appeared in the doorway, squeezed past Winnie, and ran out on the porch. She was making horrifying sounds in her throat, pointing at Finn and crying.

Winnie pulled the child into her arms. “They're taking him to the hospital, sweetheart. Your dad and Lane are going to make sure he gets well.”