Howl Deadly (4 page)

More helpful yet was his employee Althea—grandmotherly in age and absolutely youthful when it came to knowing about all things technological.

Like computers. And how to get any information available online.

Using sources I knew better than to attempt to nail down.

Yes, Althea was, I believed, a hacker of outstanding skill.

“I hope you’ll never forget me,” I told her. “I’ve missed talking to you. And—”

“Cut through the crud, Kendra,” she said in a dry tone. “What do you want me to find out for you?”

A car I didn’t recognize drove into the HotWildlife parking lot. Not that I knew more than a tiny fraction of the people whose cars were here. Even so, I kept looking for someone who could help find mama wolf. Was this the one?

I scrutinized the car and its occupant as I spoke. “It could be a matter of life and death,” I advised Althea. I explained where I was and what little creatures I craved saving. And why they needed it.

The person in the white sedan got out. A woman, middle-aged. She didn’t appear to be the canine kidnapping type.

But then again, who did?

She seemed somewhat hesitant as she approached the main gate. She stopped to buy a pass. Probably just a visitor.

“So,” I concluded to Althea, still holding my cell tight to my ear, “I spent considerable time Googling Warren Beell, who dropped the pregnant wolf here in the first place. He seemed really bent out of shape that someone might wonder if he’d steal her back. I gather he’s in the car-sales business. But I didn’t get much background on him. If you could check him out, see whether there’s anything available online about if he ever adopted a wild animal, legally or not, that would be great. Or anything else that might help us find the mother wolf. Maybe there’s a site somewhere that says someone has just seen a female wolf wandering around the San Bernardino area. Whatever. I’ve used my usual resources to look, but haven’t found a thing.”

“Got it,” she said. “And I’ll be glad to help. Although, Kendra, you know that before I spend any time on it—”

“You have to clear it with Jeff.” I heaved a hearty sigh. I knew that would be so. Still, I hated to get him involved. And especially to feel beholden to him again.

But I needed to exhaust every resource, especially the best. And there was no one better than Althea.

“I’ll let you know what he says,” she said. We completed our farewell pleasantries and hung up.

I felt like folding into a frustrated heap, right there on the pavement. Instead, I approached the entry. The young volunteer in the booth recognized me from my many entrances over the past few days, and waved me in.

I spotted Jon Doe walking along the path from the storage area, arms full of bags of creatures’ food.

“Hi,” I called. “Can I help?”

And have you seen any sign of mama wolf
? But I didn’t ask what was so obviously on my mind.

“Nope. I’m good.” He aimed his shrewd gaze at me. “And, no, though I’ve looked everywhere, checked with anyone I know who’s visited this place over the past few weeks, I’m still damned frustrated. I haven’t found a clue about where that poor wolf went to. In case you wanted to know.”

I smiled. “How did you guess? More important, are the babies still okay?”

“Sure are, and they’ll continue that way as long as they’re in my care.” His goatee underscored his mouth’s straight line of determination. “Not that I’m neglecting my other responsibilities. I want to make sure everyone’s aware of that.”

“That’s great,” I said. I believed him. He certainly seemed earnest. And if he thought it important that people around here understood his attitude, I’d do what I could to spread the word. “And . . . well, when’s the next feeding time?”

He grinned. “I take it you want to participate?”

“You take it right.” I smiled right back.

“You’re my kind of people,” he said.

 

 

 

OKAY, SO MAYBE I have some unsatisfied maternal genes somewhere inside. Once again, I took great pleasure in holding a small bottle for a hungry little wolflet.

Beside me, also sitting on not-so-comfortable seats in the enclosure off the infirmary’s kitchen, were that same diligent Jon Doe and young Krissy, each also feeding a pup.

Too bad my hands were otherwise occupied. I’d have taken my cell phone from the bottom of my large purse and snapped a photo of our amazingly sweet activity.

“How often do you have to take care of newborn wild animals here?” I asked Jon, to make conversation.

“Not very,” he said softly, hugging the pup in his lap. “Fortunately, even while in captivity, most wild mothers take good care of their offspring. And we’ve been really lucky that our animals after giving birth generally remain in good health.”

“I helped with a baby bird not long ago,” Krissy chimed in. “A little hawk, whose mother was shot by some miserable hunter.” She, too, held her small charge close and looked at home here.

“HotWildlife is lucky to have devoted folks like you to help out,” I said as Dante came in. Gloriously handsome as always, he looked windblown despite the stillness of the air. I again assumed he’d been busy scoping out the sanctuary for further clues on the apparent wolf abduction. At this point, after no sightings, we no longer imagined mama wolf had left her babies voluntarily to head out for a hunt.

Dante and I were on the same wavelength in other ways, too. He whipped his cell phone out of his pocket and took a couple of photos. “This is one great scene. Maybe we can use it to help publicize HotWildlife and get even more volunteers.”

“Great idea!” exclaimed Krissy. She beamed an awe-struck smile in his direction.

“I agree,” I said. “Adding volunteers, I mean. Poor Jon, here, is making sure everything else he needs to do gets done, in addition to his care of the wolf pups. Extra assistance would be good.”

Jon nodded and gave a modest smile while checking the bottle in his wolf baby’s mouth.

But Dante didn’t appear especially impressed. In fact, he seemed somewhat dour. I figured he was as worried about mama wolf as the rest of us, and hadn’t fully taken in my approbation of the busy HotWildlife employee in our midst.

“There’s other help on the way, too,” Dante said. “A good friend of mine, Brody Avilla, really likes animals. He’s coming to help look for our missing wolf.”

“
The
Brody Avilla?” Krissy seemed extra impressed. Dante’s buddy Brody had starred in his share of big-budget movies and now appeared often as a judge on our very own
Animal Auditions
television show.

“None other,” Dante said, which got a shrill little squeal from Krissy. Much as I wanted to hold my ears, I nevertheless considered her reaction a good thing.

Maybe she’d stop panting over Dante when Brody arrived.

And of course I knew exactly why Dante had invited his longtime friend. They had a history together, one they’d yet to share with me. I suspected it was something deep, dark, and secret in their mutual past. Some military special ops, perhaps, or even something less savory.

One of these days I would ferret it out. I did, after all, have an excellent relationship with at least some ferrets, since, a few months ago, I had saved them from being murder suspects.

“That is really cool.” Krissy was still so excited that she disturbed the nursing wolf pup on her lap. I saw the small creature move, and heard a teeny whimper.

“How’s your little charge doing with his lunch?” I asked as a gentle reminder.

She shot me a glare that suggested I was the last person she wanted to hear speaking. Oh, well. She turned back to Dante. “I want to hear all about how you know Brody Avilla. Were you a backer for any of his films? Will you ask him if I could have just an itsy-bitsy part in one? It’s so cool,” she repeated. “I’m just really happy to know you, Dante.” Her expression suggested that she wanted to know him better. In all ways. Especially in the biblical sense.

So much for assuming an introduction to Brody would get the young brat to stop flirting with Dante.

Not that he was mine, of course. And I wasn’t convinced I wanted him to be . . . was I?

Hell, I
did
want him to be, at least for the moment. Why else would I even consider letting him keep a change of clothes at my house?

And that was the problem. He appeared to want more moments. Minutes. Hours. Years. Forever?

Anyhow, I needed to alter this conversation in a manner I could live with without retching.

“So when will Brody get here?” I asked Dante brightly.

“Any time,” he said, smiling.

I smiled back, as if we shared some kind of secret. I heard a gruff noise emanate from the throat of someone in the room, and assumed Krissy was attempting again to usurp Dante’s attention.

But when I quickly aimed my glance around, it wasn’t Krissy who looked irritated, but Jon Doe.

Interesting. His expression immediately lightened as I looked at him.

Still . . . what was that about?

And why, when I looked at Dante, did a grim expression again shadow his sexy face?

 

 

LESS THAN AN hour later, we sat in Megan’s office in the front building of the sanctuary’s enclosed complex. Brody had just arrived, and he, Dante, and I had joined the director for a discussion.

“Sorry to hear about the missing wolf,” Brody said. “I know you take your responsibilities here seriously, Megan, especially regarding members of endangered species.”

Brody was, of course, movie-star handsome, since he was, in fact, a movie star. He’d acted in many action features—although none lately—including a remake of
Rin Tin Tin
and another about K-9 Marines. His most recent gig was as a judge for
Animal Auditions
.

Imagine how a gorgeous guy should look on the screen, and that was Brody, with his firm jaw, jutting cheekbones, and glimmering gold eyes. His hair was light brown, thick, and wavy. Today, he was clad in well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt, taut over movie-star muscles.

“Have you been to HotWildlife before?” I asked Brody. I assumed he had, since he seemed to know Megan. And, as Dante’s friend, I assumed he trod many of the same paths as the chief funder of this facility.

“Several times,” he said. “Love this place!” His smile was directed at Megan, and she cast a wan one right back.

Megan’s face was drawn, her mouth pinched, and her usually bright brown eyes dull. The lost mama wolf obviously affected her psyche, and I felt sad for her.

Not to mention said mama wolf and her abandoned babies.

“I assume you’ve used the usual routes of investigation to try to find her.” Brody’s latest comment was addressed to Dante, who nodded.

He sat beside me, his chair abutting mine despite the roominess of this office. Now and then, he would touch my hand, lying on the metal armrest, as if in reassurance. To me or to him?

And why did that question in my mind make me want to get him alone and into my arms for a gigantic hug?

“We’ve gone all the usual routes,” Dante confirmed. “Everyone who works here and who’s visited lately has been questioned. We’ve walked every inch, looking for a hole in the perimeter fence large enough for the wolf to get through. Nothing.”

“And how about Wagner? Have you utilized him?”

“Hell!” Dante thundered as he rose. “I should have thought of him immediately. I’ve always kept him away from HotWildlife. Didn’t want his scent to aggravate the animals here, or for him to get edgy over the wild inhabitants. But he’s a German shepherd.”

“A well-trained one,” Brody added. “He might be able to follow the scent.”

“He’s in L.A.,” Dante grumbled.

“Can you get someone to bring him?” Megan asked. She, too, was standing, behind her neat wooden desk. A computer stand sat at her right, and its large, flat screen seemed state-of-the-art. Of course Dante would want the person running any of his operations, charitable or not, to have the finest office equipment.

“We’ll go back for him,” Dante said.

At the same time, I said, “My assistant, Rachel, has said she wants to see HotWildlife. If I can get someone to take over all our pet-sitting clients for a day, I’m sure she’d be glad to bring him.” Whether Wanda Villareal could handle them all was doubtful, but our additional contacts in the Pet-Sitters Club of SoCal could probably take up the slack. As long as our clients were okay with it, of course.

“Sounds great.” Megan looked relieved, as if she felt certain having a scent dog here would solve the missing wolf mystery. I hoped she was right, but it remained to be seen. Or scented.

“I’ll make some calls,” I said. “See if I can set it up.” Cell phone in hand, I exited the office and made my way down the hall.

The building was separate from the rest of the sanctuary, and the infirmary and nearest habitats were many yards away. The landscaping was lush along the paths, as if in imitation of genuine wilderness that would attract wild animals.

Stopping by a tall green hedge near the facility’s entrance, I saw Jon Doe outside the fence, on the pavement. He strode toward me with determination, as if eager to come back inside.

“Any sign of the mama wolf?” I asked as he approached. I’m sure he expected the repetitious question as much as I anticipated his negative answer.

I considered telling him about the upcoming assistance of Dante’s dog in finding the missing mama but decided against it. Better that I start making my calls.

I soon had everything lined up. Rachel would bring Wagner here first thing the next morning, after dropping my Lexie at Doggy Indulgence Day Resort to enjoy a day of pampering by my buddy Darryl Nestler. Rachel would get a tour of HotWildlife, then head home by evening. Wanda would round up a few fellow pet-sitters and get keys and instructions for my current charges from Rachel. I’d even gotten my clients’ verbal okays.