Howl Deadly (5 page)

All would work out well. I hoped. I intended to keep in close touch with Wanda the next day, to make sure.

As I finished, I saw movement in the nearest animal enclosure, where a couple of coyotes resided. They’d been brought here from around L.A., where a lot of the scampish scavengers still resided. They were cunning, yet cute in their own way—as long as they weren’t eating someone’s pet kitty. A peek at them on the prowl inside their habitat drew me toward the walled, moated, and fenced enclosure.

Inside, Jon Doe bustled about, apparently shoveling the dirt to clean the area. It was his movement I’d seen, not the coyotes’, who must have been confined in the smaller, secluded area behind.

Jon saw me at the same time and gave a wave, as he ducked into the back area. He quickly appeared outside and must have opened the inner gate, since the coyotes reappeared in the enclosure. In moments, Jon stood beside me. I was impressed that someone who appeared more than middle-aged was as quick and agile as he.

“Did you learn anything useful?” he asked. “I noticed you were on the phone.”

I opened my mouth to tell him of the impending presence of Wagner when I saw Dante, Brody, and Megan emerge from the nearby office building. I raised my hand in a wave.

And noticed, from the corner of my eye, that Jon seemed to startle. Then freeze. I glanced over at him, but he didn’t look any different than usual. Had I imagined the odd reaction?

Probably.

The three approached, and soon also stood on the path outside the coyote enclosure. Volunteers Krissy and Anthony came down one of the nearby paths and joined us. Krissy’s apparently awed gaze was on Brody. I introduced them, and she stammered something in greeting. Brody grinned, then looked at us all before turning his attention back to the coyotes.

“Fascinating animals,” he said. “Sneaky and sly as all get-out. Predators of the highest magnitude.” He looked at me and smiled, but his glance seemed to slide over my shoulder before returning to meet mine.

“Oh, but they’re great survivors,” said Jon Doe from behind me.

“Sure are,” Dante said. “But they need a pack to watch their backs.”

I looked over at Megan, who stood between the two men. Her expression mirrored the confusion I felt. Were these guys saying something unrelated to coyotes? I thought so, but I couldn’t imagine what that was about. Krissy, on the other hand, seemed unable to decide whether to stare at Dante or Brody, and her eyes moved from one to the other. Was she clueless about anything other than her apparent dual crushes? Who knew?

“Anyway, not much more we can do here tonight—as long as you have enough people around to feed the pups.” Dante looked inquiringly at Megan, who nodded.

“I’m staying!” Krissy announced. Jon Doe didn’t say anything, but I felt sure that, with his dedication to the place, he’d be around as well.

“Great,” Brody said. “I’ve got some computer work to do tonight. But I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to see how else I can help while we wait for Wagner.”

“Who’s that?” Krissy inquired.

“Dante’s dog,” I said. I explained why he was on his way.

We said our good evenings and departed. Dante drove his car toward his cabin, and Brody followed.

By the time we arrived, I was ready to strangle Dante. He had responded to all my questions about any undercurrent in their comments with absolute innocence, along with incredulity at my suspicions.

I didn’t buy it.

 

 

A WHILE LATER, we three were ensconced back at Dante’s mountain retreat. We’d stopped for dinner at a sandwich shop along the highway, and now each of us sipped from a stein of icy amber beer we’d brought back.

At least Dante and I did, as we sat in front of his big-screen TV in the vast yet comfortable living room. Brody had excused himself and headed for the office at the far end of the posh cabin’s first floor. Which made me mighty curious.

I knew full well that Dante and Brody had a secret history together, and suspected it had something to do with the military—maybe the K-9 corps, which was what showed up on Dante’s incomplete official bio posted at the HotPets Web site. Or some kind of security ops. Whatever. My assumption now was that the hot actor Brody was not online scouting for upcoming entertainment industry gigs, but for something to do with the lost mama wolf. Would someone post a notice on a secure site about finding a stray, prowling wolf in this area?

Or was it something else Brody was after?

The curiosity drove me crazy. But I did my utmost to act normal with Dante as we watched a reality show where people competed by pruning plants into exotic and interesting topiary designs. Of course, I preferred the ones that resembled animals. No wolves, but an elephant, an iguana, and even a potbellied pig.

“They look like some of your clients you’ve described,” Dante said. We were snuggled up together on his lush leather sofa. He had an arm around me, and I’d laid my head on his shoulder. A sweet and serene moment, sure, but I couldn’t help being sexually aware of this really handsome and hot guy.

“I’ve never taken care of an elephant,” I contradicted. Iguanas and pigs? Sure.

“So which of those pseudo artists do you think will win?” he asked.

“I’d vote for the one who snipped out the big, beautiful heart,” I said.

“Hearts are supposed to be red,” he countered. “Not fuzzy green plants.”

“Maybe, but—”

I didn’t finish, since Brody suddenly appeared in the doorway. He looked like he had something on his mind.

“Find something interesting?” Dante pulled away slightly as I lifted my head from his stiffening shoulder. I looked at him. Whatever he was hoping to hear was clearly important to him, considering how he stared so pointedly at Brody.

Brody aimed a glance in my direction. “Possibly,” he said. “Some ideas on how else to look for the missing wolf.”

“Right. Let’s go talk about it.” Dante rose and strode across the room.

I stood, too. I absolutely wanted to assist in locating mama wolf.

“Er—how about getting us another beer, Kendra?” Dante nodded toward his empty stein on the long, low coffee table, where we’d been resting our feet.

Obvious translation: this was a guy thing, a conversation to which I wasn’t invited.

Which definitely suggested to me that mama wolf wasn’t the topic. At least not the only topic.

What was going on? And why was I being excluded?

With a shrug, I picked up our mugs and headed to the kitchen.

But when I got there, I slowly and silently squeezed my back against the wall and sneaked into the hall. I heard hushed male voices from the den that doubled as an office. Big surprise. Brody obviously had shared the result of his research with Dante, and they were discussing it.

As quietly as I could, I went toward the office. I didn’t hear much discernible, except something that sounded like “Jon Doe.”

I’d gotten a sense, at HotWildlife, of an undercurrent among the men, but hadn’t known what it was. Still didn’t.

Did Dante and Brody think the sanctuary’s employee had something to do with the wolf’s disappearance? If so, why? To show off his nurturing skills with the pups?

Made no sense to me.

I heard some stirring, like the men were on the move, so I quietly hustled my bod back into the kitchen, where I opened more beer bottles and poured out the brew as if absolutely thrilled with the assignment.

As Dante and Brody entered the room, I handed Dante his refilled stein. “Where’s your glass, Brody?” I asked. “Do you want more beer?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s in the den.”

“I’ll get it,” I said brightly, excited about the idea of an excuse to get into the room for a quick look at the computer.

“Don’t bother.” Brody hurried his movie-star self out of the kitchen toward the den.

“So, did he find something helpful about mama wolf?” I asked Dante.

“Not as much as I’d hoped,” he replied cryptically, then lifted his glass to his lips.

Which I watched. I loved his talented lips. And not especially for the use of sipping beer. My insides steamed, if only for an instant. And then Brody was back with his mug. I refilled it with a bright, if false, smile.

Okay, so I enjoyed watching Dante. Liked Brody’s company, too, as we all strolled into the living room and sat back down. Watched more of the reality show, followed by a flip of channels to financial news.

To which I paid little attention.

What I really wanted was to go into the den and check out the computer.

DAMNED IF I didn’t get my opportunity a little later. The men, clearly chomping at the bit to continue their conversation, eventually excused themselves to go outside. “Brody and I need to talk about some ideas I have for
Animal Auditions
,” Dante said.

“I’d love to brainstorm about it,” I replied.

“It’s about my financial backing and other stuff I think you’ll find boring.”

“Could be.” I doubted it, although I also doubted they really intended to discuss
Animal Auditions
. And so I let them head out to the rustic front porch, illuminated by lantern-shaped lights, without me.

The porch was in the front, and its windows into the house opened onto an entryway. That meant they couldn’t see me leave the living room and sprint down the hall toward the den.

A good thing.

Just in case, I didn’t turn on the light but saw what I could from the hall’s glow behind me—enough to get me to the desk, where I pressed a key to waken the computer from sleep mode.

Not surprisingly, only the desktop showed. I got onto the Internet—this far from civilization, Dante had paid for a satellite connection—and checked the list of sites Brody had visited. To my delight and surprise, he hadn’t had the foresight to delete his browsing history.

But the Web sites listed didn’t make a lot of sense to me. One was something called
bop.gov
. I clicked on it—and learned that it was the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Another involved the U.S. Treasury. There were a couple that concerned wolves and their habitats, which was unsurprising.

The screen also showed that Brody had Googled Jon Doe.

I was almost as confused after seeing this as I’d been before accessing the computer.

Hearing the front door open, I hurried out, hoping no one would duck into the den before the computer transferred back to sleep mode. I headed down the hall to the nearest bathroom, as an excuse not to be in the kitchen or in front of the TV.

Even as my mind continued to spin in curiosity and confusion.

 

 

 

LATER, I CONSIDERED pressing Dante with pillow talk to extort some answers. Sex in exchange for information? Well, no. I’m not that kind of woman. Sex, yes. Holding out for an unrelated request? No.

So, the next morning, I felt sensuously sated as we got ready to head to HotWildlife. While Dante showered, I finished dressing. I went into the kitchen for a glass of fruit juice poured by one of the housekeepers who showed up each morning to ensure the place was perfect. As I thanked her and started sipping, my cell phone rang, and I recognized the number right away.

“Hi, Rachel,” I said. “Where are you?”

“Just getting off the freeway. I should be at HotWildlife in twenty minutes.”

“Sounds good. We may be there a little later.”

But not by much. I saw Rachel standing by the front entrance with Dante’s dear Wagner as the three of us— Dante, Brody and I—pulled into the partly filled parking lot about a half hour after our conversation. I grinned and waved. Rachel waved back and approached us.

“Does this entitle me to a tour of HotWildlife?” she asked as she handed Wagner’s leash to Dante. Rachel had recently turned twenty. When I first met her, she’d been trespassing in my large, rented-out house—kinda. Her dad was my tenant, and neither he nor I expected his offspring to move in while he was out of town.

But he’d welcomed her, and she and I had become good buddies—so much so that I’d hired her as my backup caregiver at my pet-sitting service, Critter TLC, LLC. She thrived at it. And as a wannabe actress, she wasn’t doing too badly, either—often off on auditions and occasional roles—and she was doing a great job as on-air hostess of
Animal Auditions
. In fact, a good percentage of the people part of our cast was now here, with Brody around.

Rachel was waiflike, with huge brown eyes that glowed now with anticipation. She was dressed, as she often was off-screen, in jeans and a short T-shirt.

“Private tour coming up,” I told her, glancing at Dante for confirmation. He nodded, and we all went in, waving at the volunteer who manned the entry booth. Inside, there were already quite a few visitors strolling the sanctuary’s pathways to see the wild populace.