Alaskan Sanctuary (20 page)

Piper should have seen this coming. The wolves were her pack, and she was their leader. They were her responsibility. She’d made a promise to them and to herself to always protect them. To give them sanctuary.

She’d failed the one and only family she’d ever had.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she make things work, even with a pack of wolves? Was it really such a bad thing to want a family? To want someone to love, and to be loved in return?

She took a deep breath and smiled through the tears she could no longer keep from falling. “Thank you, Zoey.”

“Piper, they’ll be here any minute. I promise.” Zoey stood no less than fifteen feet away, but somehow that space felt impossibly large. A cavernous gulf. Everything seemed different. Distorted. The morning sun moved behind the clouds, and the sky, swollen with snow, felt as if it was pressing down on Piper. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get enough air.

Because for the first time, the wild, beautiful world she had created for herself—the only world where she felt safe enough to live and love—felt as if it might be nothing but an illusion.

* * *

“Describe to me again exactly what you saw when you first arrived on the property this morning.” Tate scanned the contents of his police notepad and looked expectantly at Ethan. He’d been jotting things down all day, and it was beginning to grate on Ethan’s nerves.

He wanted action. He needed Tate to do something.

“Do we really have to go over this again?” He felt like jumping out of his skin. How long did Tate expect him to stand here on the opposite side of the fence while Piper was in there beside Stu Foster? They were bent over Koko, who’d managed to wake up before help arrived. But the wolf’s copper eyes were cloudy and distant. He didn’t seem capable of focusing on any one thing. Not even Piper.

On a normal day, she was his sun. The center of his orbit. That wolf never took his eyes off her.

“Look, I know you want to get back in there. I know Piper needs you right now,” Tate said.

Ethan glanced at Piper. Did she need him? Really? He wasn’t even sure. But he knew one thing—he needed to be beside her.

“I’m just doing my job,” Tate added. “You want me to get to the bottom of this, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Ethan lowered his voice. “But you and I both know who did this.”

“Who?” Tate asked blithely. His composure was beginning to grate on Ethan’s nerves.

He knew Tate was simply doing his job, being a professional. But it was hard to understand how anyone could be so calm, when Ethan himself felt as if there was a wild animal inside him, trying to claw its way out.

Get ahold of yourself. Losing your mind isn’t going to help anyone, least of all Piper.
“The person who left the graffiti is the same person who poisoned the wolf. It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?”

“No. Not obvious.” Tate shook his head. “For starters, we don’t even know for sure that the wolf was poisoned.”

He couldn’t be serious. Had they not just witnessed Stu Foster administering activated charcoal to Koko so all the toxins could be purged from his system? “The animal was poisoned, Tate. Without a doubt.”

“We’ll see. Stu is taking three vials of blood for testing. We won’t have the toxicology report back until tomorrow morning. Maybe even tomorrow afternoon.”

Ethan’s fists involuntary clenched at his sides. He felt like punching someone.

Tate sighed. “Look, I know this is frustrating. But we can’t make assumptions. Investigations don’t work that way, and I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do. Got it?”

On a purely cerebral level, Ethan understood what his friend was saying. He even agreed with it. But every time he thought about the faraway, wounded look in Piper’s eyes when he’d told her that he’d suspected Koko had been poisoned, all rational thinking flew right out the window. “Got it.”

“So once again, describe everything that you saw.”

Ethan’s gaze flitted back toward the pen, where Stu was setting up an IV for the wolf. Piper looked shell-shocked, smaller and more vulnerable than he would have ever imagined, still wearing his oversize parka. Someone should get her a blanket. And some mittens. Maybe even a sleeping bag. He knew there’d be no dragging her from the enclosure until Koko was out of the woods. If that didn’t happen, if things ended as badly as Ethan thought they might...

He couldn’t even imagine how she’d react if Koko didn’t survive. He remembered with heartbreaking clarity what had happened when the alpha female of one of the oldest wolf packs in Denali had been shot by a hunter. For eight straight nights, the canyon echoed with the mournful howls of her pack. They’d stood by her, even in death.
We are here. We are here and we remember you.

The other wolves, five in all, had remained loyally by her fallen carcass and refused to move. The hunter hadn’t even been able to collect his kill, fearful for his life. At last they’d moved on, but without the fallen wolf’s mate, the alpha male. He’d buried himself in the snowy hillside, so still that Ethan had mistaken him for a downed log. He’d abdicated his role as alpha and abandoned his pack. He’d become a rarity, a lone wolf. A beaten and broken prizefighter.

There was a reason why lone wolves were an uncommon sight. They didn’t last long. Wolves needed their pack to survive. Ethan hadn’t been at all surprised when he’d arrived in the canyon one morning to find the wolf gone. All that was left of him was a trail of crimson blood in the snow. There’d been no other wolves to mourn his loss, no aching, desolate howls cast to the sky. But Ethan had somehow felt those howls rattling around in his rib cage. A nighttime elegy.

He felt them now, again, when he looked at Piper.

He cleared his throat and directed his focus once again on Tate. “I told you. I was only here for a few minutes when I noticed that the wolf seemed out of sorts. Everything happened very quickly.”

“You didn’t notice any suspicious vehicles or people?” Tate double-checked his notes.

“No.” For the thousandth time. “Just like before, on the day of the graffiti. Except this time, Zoey’s car was in the driveway alongside Piper’s. Other than that, nothing.”

“No one left the area after you’d arrived? Perhaps while you were inside talking to Piper?”

“I didn’t go inside. I got straight to work.” Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Piper and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms. Or we weren’t. I’m not even sure anymore.”

Tate lifted a sardonic brow. “So you really took our talk this morning to heart, I see?”

“Tate.” Ethan’s voice sounded lethal even to himself.

“Sorry. We’re all tense, okay?” He flipped his notebook closed. “I’m going to take a look around, maybe shoot some photos. Zoey called Posy, and the recital committee is on their way over with food. She figured cooking is the last thing on Piper’s mind at the moment.”

Ethan couldn’t see Piper having much of an appetite, but it was nice to see the community rallying around her. It would do her good to spend more time with people. “So I’m free to go now?”

Tate pocketed his notebook and pulled out his camera phone. “Is that what you want to do? Leave?”

No. Not at all.

He wanted to stand beside Piper. He wanted to tell her that she could lean on him. She didn’t need to be strong on her own anymore. She didn’t need to be a lone wolf.

But it was turning into Grand Central Station around here. Liam Blake had already shown up with a half dozen kids from the youth group, and they were finishing the chores. The dance recital crew would be here any minute with food. Did Piper even want him around?

He wholeheartedly doubted it.

She’d reached for him in those first few minutes, before half the town had descended. She’d clung to him as if he were a shelter in a storm. But what about now?

He glanced at his cell phone to check the time. In less than twenty-four hours he was scheduled to arrive in Seattle. His flight to Anchorage on Zoey’s charter plane left at six in the morning.

He inhaled a ragged breath and answered Tate’s question. “I’m going to stick around. At least for a little while.”

“Good.” Tate’s gaze flitted to the tree-lined drive, where yet another car had arrived. A man Ethan didn’t recognize climbed out of the driver’s side, glanced around and walked toward the cabin. “Who’s that?”

Ethan frowned. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”

“You and me both,” Tate said.

Ethan cast a final glance in the direction of Koko’s enclosure before heading for the cabin alongside Tate. Piper seemed far too busy assisting Stu with the IV to notice anything beyond the fence.

By the time the two men reached the steps of the cabin, the stranger had already knocked on the door and was trying to peer in the front window.

Ethan tapped on his shoulder. “Can I help you?”

“Do you work here?” The man turned around, casting a sideways glance at the state trooper badge pinned to Tate’s chest.

Ethan cleared his throat. “In a way.”

“My name is Jack Oliver.” He offered his hand for a shake. A brown leather briefcase dangled from the opposite hand, a sure sign he was an out-of-towner. Ethan had never seen a briefcase within Aurora city limits. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen one anywhere in Alaska, for that matter. “I just flew in yesterday from Washington, DC.”

“DC? Really?” Tate said. “What brings you to Alaska?”

But Ethan already knew.

Jack Oliver had to be the businessman that Zoey had picked up from Juneau.
Some government official...

Now?
Really, God?
Ethan knew he had no right to question God’s timing. He’d only recently begun praying again. But didn’t Piper have enough on her plate at the moment?

Jack Oliver smiled. Poor guy. He had no idea what kind of mess he’d traveled all this way to see. “I’m with the National Nature Conservatory. This facility has applied for a government grant, and I’m here to conduct an inspection. May I speak to Piper Quinn? She’s the director of the facility, is she not?”

“I’m afraid she’s indisposed at the moment.” Ethan hated the fact that he’d been right. Why couldn’t this guy have been a traveling salesman or something?

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Ethan. He’d been against the NNC funding since day one. He’d sat by and watched Piper struggle with the paperwork, and he hadn’t once offered to help, despite the fact that he’d applied for six such grants himself in Denali. All of which had been successfully awarded.

But this wasn’t how things should have gone down. He didn’t want to win this way. This wasn’t a fair fight. Piper didn’t stand a chance. Passing the inspection didn’t seem possible when the sanctuary had basically become a crime scene, and the star wolf was busy fighting for his life.

“She’s indisposed?” Jack Oliver let out a laugh that sounded far too haughty for Ethan’s taste. “Sir, perhaps you’re not aware, but agency rules stipulate the premises must be made available for inspection in order for the grant application to move forward. We were very impressed by Ms. Quinn’s documentation of her work with wolves, but this sanctuary can’t be approved for funding without an inspection.”

“An inspection isn’t possible right now.” Ethan stepped between Jack Oliver and the enclosures. The last thing the man needed to see was a semiconscious wolf hooked up to an IV, although it was probably clear from all the activity that something was amiss.

And why exactly do you think it’s your place to protect these wolves?

It wasn’t about the wolves. It was about Piper, and not letting her get kicked while she was already down. Ethan would have done the same for anyone. His actions didn’t have a thing to do with the wolves themselves. Or love.

Love.

Where had that thought come from? The stress of the situation was getting to him. He’d been thinking about Tate’s romantic notions that he and Piper somehow belonged together. Which was nonsense. Obviously.

“Again, I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Perhaps another time. Because I’m actually up to speed on NNC rules, and I believe there are provisions for an amended application in certain situations.”

Jack Oliver deflated. Slightly. “In rare cases, yes. But it’s most uncommon. Amendments to applications are permitted once, and then only when the facility has undergone significant changes in personnel or quality of care.”

“Just as I said. Uncommon.” Ethan smiled. “But not impossible.”

“No, not impossible.” The inspector glanced at his watch—a fancy-looking silver thing, another clear indication that he wasn’t from around here. “I’ll be on my way, then. I have another facility to visit before I head back to Washington in the morning. I trust you’ll tell Ms. Quinn I was here.”

“Oh, I will.” When the time was right, not when she was standing vigil over Koko like that mournful lone wolf.

Ethan tried to shake that tragic visual from his consciousness while Jack Oliver got back in his car and drove away. He failed. That sad wolf, nothing more than a ghost of what he’d once been, had made his home in Ethan’s head.

He remembered long, bitter nights digging snow caves under the dim glow of a headlight strapped around his skull. For ten consecutive nights after the lone wolf had gone missing, Ethan had wandered the camp trying to find him. He dug caves, makeshift dens, in the unlikely event that the wolf was still alive and needed a place to rest and recuperate. On the tenth night, a blizzard had blown in off Bristol Bay, and Ethan had suffered pretty severe frostbite. He’d nearly lost a finger, all because of those snow caves. It had been a waste of his time in the end. He never found the wolf.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the sad creature back into the forest of memory. When he opened them, he found Tate watching him with a sad smile.

“That was a good thing you just did,” he said, nodding toward Jack Oliver’s car rolling back toward the highway. “And you keep insisting you don’t belong here.”

Why couldn’t Ethan shake the tragic recollection of that lone wolf? Probably because he hadn’t been able to save him. And he couldn’t seem to save Piper, either.