Lone Wolfe Protector (4 page)

Chapter Five

Maggie let her words sink in a minute, watching Candi with renewed interest. The other woman fidgeted with the clasp on her tennis bracelet. Even though her gaze was averted, Maggie could tell there was an expression of longing there. It certainly made sense. The guy was drop-dead gorgeous. But that wasn’t all. There was something about him that screamed
bad boy.
Danger. Maybe it was the clothes. Or maybe it was the look on his arrestingly handsome face. Whatever it was, she could see how someone could fall for him in such a way as to never really recover.

“Since the ninth grade?” Maggie asked quietly.

Candi nodded, her lashes forming dramatic black smudges beneath lowered eyes. “My home life wasn’t great. I got put into foster care after junior high. Zane and Koda’s aunt took me in.” She looked up. “Too much information for a coffee date?”

“No, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

“I haven’t talked about it in so long. Whenever I do, it kind of takes me by surprise. All those old feelings come up again.”

Maggie waited, feeling a surge of emotion for this woman whom she barely knew. There was pain here. And she identified with pain.

“The state bounced me around for a few months before Ara found me,” Candi said. “At that point I didn’t even know how to boil an egg. I was always dirty. I remember that. Aunt A, she took me out and bought me new clothes, showed me how to fix my hair and nails, cooked for me.”

Ara.
Maggie blinked, thinking of the nice lady behind the counter at the Inn.
You’ll need a jacket, honey. It’s cold out.
This was the woman who had taken Candi in. And for a second, everything was clearer. Everybody in Wolfe Creek seemed connected somehow. They were like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that, when put together, formed a detailed picture of life in a very small town.

“She must have cared for you very much,” Maggie said.

“She’s the only mother I’ve ever known. The only
real
mother. Before I came to Ara, I was a pissed-off train wreck. Who knows if I’d have even made it to fifteen? She loved me so much, I don’t think I had any choice but to love her right back. She never agreed with the stripping later on, but it was the best I could do to help out with the bills.” Candi smiled. “Anyway, that’s when I met Zane and Koda. She was raising them, too. She’s had them since they were babies, barely old enough to crawl.”

“Are they twins?”

“Koda’s older, but only by a year. You’d never know it, though. He’s an old soul, always has been.”

Koda
. The tall deputy with the striking features that made her toes curl. He’d looked serious and drawn when Maggie had met him that day. She’d chalked it up to a cop thing. But there was probably more there. Much more, by the sound of it.

“He’s always running around after Zane to keep him from making the next big mistake. Trying to keep him out of trouble. Koda got into a lot of fights at school over his baby brother.” Candi’s smile widened at this, and Maggie couldn’t help but smile, too. “You should have seen them. These two skinny Indian boys, one hell-bent on taking on the world, the other hell-bent on protecting him from it.”

“And you liked Zane? Right away?”

Candi looked at Maggie, her eyes twinkling, her earrings glinting merrily. “Who
wouldn’t
like Zane right away?”

Maggie kept her mouth shut.

“He’s kind of like…” She paused, looking past Maggie now, into the night beyond the foggy windowpane. “He’s kind of like this force to be reckoned with. He draws you in before you even know what’s happened. Or, at least, that’s how it was with me.”

“Did you…date?”

“Not sure you could call it that. It was the summer between our junior and senior years in high school. One day he just looked at me
different
. Out of the blue. He didn’t even have to work at getting me into bed. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other for months. We were joined at the hip.” She winked. “So to speak.”

“Have you been together since?”

“Oh, no. There’ve been others in between breakups and jail time. The most persistent is one of Koda’s cop friends, Alan. He asked me out just the other day, but I think he knows there’s no real chance. Someday Zane will straighten out and want to settle down. And when he does, I’ll be there.”

Maggie swallowed. “Jail time?”

“A long time ago, Zane’s trouble making caught up and Koda was too late to help.” Candi looked pensive. “He started changing after high school. He’d disappear for long stretches of time, never told anyone where he was going or when he’d be back. Drove poor A crazy with worry. Koda worse.” She paused, taking another sip of coffee. “I never understood how he could hurt us like that. Especially me.”

“Of course.”

“Then one day, we got word that he’d stabbed somebody up north in a bar fight. Zane says it was self-defense, and maybe it was. But the guy almost died. Zane did six years. Hard time.”

Maggie’s mouth went slack.

“When he came back, he was different.
Really
different.”

“Different, how?”

Candi frowned and leaned away.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push.”

“No,” Candi said, running her fingers lightly across her cleavage, as if making sure it was still there. “I don’t mind. I like talking to you. It feels like I’ve known you forever.”

It was such an open, honest statement, that Maggie felt it tug at her heartstrings. “Me, too.” It wasn’t a lie. She felt a connection with Candi, though why, she had no idea. She’d never been the kind to believe in fate and chance encounters. She supposed her mother was responsible for that. Things were what they were. Period.

But she was comfortable around this woman with the makeup and big hair. She was more comfortable with her than she’d been with anyone for a long time. Though she’d be hard-pressed to admit it, it almost felt like moments of talking with Aimee. And again, there was the familiar, unrelenting ache.

Candi smiled, and the glow was back. “Good.” Crossing her long legs, she set her mug on the table and wiped the lipstick off the rim. “How long do you think you’ll be in Wolfe Creek, Maggie?”

Maggie knew she should be vague and distant just like she’d planned. But something about Candi made her want to confide in someone. A friend. She’d only been in town for a few days, but the remoteness was already wearing on her.

“As long as it takes.”

“Really?”

Maggie nodded.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how can you do that? Don’t you have responsibilities at home? A job, a family?”

“I do. I do have all that. But I have a responsibility to Aimee, too.”

“And that stuff about writing something for the tourism bureau?”

“That was mostly for Gary’s benefit. Don’t think it worked, though. He might be smarter than he looks.”

“Doubt it.”

Maggie smiled. “It’s an interesting town, though. I didn’t lie about that. I came here prepared to hate everything about it. But it hasn’t exactly worked out that way. It’s strange.”

“This place grows on you,” Candi said. “If you really pay attention, you’ll see that most people here had a chance to leave at one point and make a life somewhere else. But they didn’t. And the ones who do end up leaving always seem to come back.”

Maggie looked up and noticed the barista watching them while wiping down the counter.

“I think someone’s listening,” Maggie whispered.

Candi looked over Maggie’s shoulder and wiggled her fingers. “Don’t worry about her,” she said under her breath. “But you’re gonna run into people who don’t like you, for no other reason than you’re from out of town.”

“You seem awfully friendly.”

“Well, I’m an ex-stripper who wears my heart on my sleeve. What can I say?”

Laughing, Maggie set her mug down. She was as full of coffee as she’d ever been. If she kept laughing, even a little, she was going to wet her pants. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down that hall, first door on the left.”

Maggie stood. “Be right back.”

The unisex bathroom was warm and cheerful. Small black-and-white photos of Paris and Rome hung on the walls and made it feel surprisingly exotic, as did a vase of dried flowers on the sink. But it was still a public restroom, and Maggie had developed a phobia of them since Aimee’s disappearance.

She dried her hands, tossed the paper towel in the garbage, and opened the door with her sleeve pulled over her fist, something her mother had taught her by the tender age of five. A rule of thumb when using the public potty that was right up there with “Don’t lick the walls.” It had stuck.

“Germaphobe?”

Startled, Maggie looked up to see Koda Wolfe leaning against the wall. The expression on his face was so like his brother’s that for a second she just stood there, caught off guard. His starched, long-sleeved uniform shirt fit like a glove and hinted at a nice physique underneath. The silver star on his chest practically glowed in the subdued light of the hallway, reminding her that he was in a position of universal power, no matter how small the town. She tried to think of something witty to say, but all that would come out was, “Uhh…”

His lips tilted. Not quite a smile, but not a frown, either. He looked different than he had at the café yesterday. Standing across from her now, close enough to reach out and touch if she’d wanted to, he almost seemed approachable. Almost.

“I was just using the bathroom,” she said.
Brilliant.

“I see that. But I don’t think you want to go out there quite yet.”

His face was perfection. Had she noticed just how perfect yesterday? Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, like they were sharing some kind of private joke. Hesitant, she smiled up at him, drawn in by those dark eyes. By the way he seemed to be leaning toward her, just a little.

“I don’t?”

It wasn’t her imagination. He
was
leaning toward her. And all of a sudden, it was hard to take a full breath.

He reached out as if to put an arm around her waist. She could feel the heat of his breath against her face.
What the…?

“Not unless you want to drag this along.”

He pulled something from the back of her jeans.

Maggie looked down to see a feathery strip of toilet paper in his hand. It took a second for this to sink in.

“Oh…my God.”

“Yeah.”

If there had been a hole anywhere near, she would have happily crawled in to die.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

He stepped aside, letting her pass without another word. Which was just fine with her. She had no desire to make small talk with a man who’d just plucked Charmin from her jeans.

Maggie made it back to her chair with her cheeks still burning. She must have looked uptight because Candi frowned.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. But I’d better get going.” The urge to leave the coffee shop at nothing less than a sprint was overwhelming.

“Why? Besides, Koda just came in. He’ll be back in a second. You can say hi.”

“I kind of already did. We bumped into each other in the bathroom.”

“Oh. That’s great, because you guys didn’t get off to the best start yesterday.”

Maggie looked at her shoes, not trusting herself with the toilet-paper story without laughing. Or crying. Or both.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Candi continued, mistaking the look on Maggie’s face for something else. “He’s really just a teddy bear underneath.”

Maggie wondered what else might be underneath before she could help it.

“Koda.” Candi glanced over Maggie’s shoulder and waved him over. She stood, adjusting the skirt, which had crept up her thighs. “Want to hang out for a minute?”

Maggie watched as Candi gave him a kiss on the cheek. She felt like an outsider. Which, of course she was.

“Can’t. I’m on patrol. But I’m glad I ran into you.” His gaze shifted toward Maggie.

“Yeah?”

“Aunt A is making dinner tomorrow. Wanted to see if you’d come.”

“Of course. Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself.”

“You know,” Candi said, stepping back, “Maggie’s staying at the Inn. She doesn’t really know anyone in town yet. I’d love to bring her, if that’s okay.”

Horrified, Maggie stared at her. “Um…uh…I wouldn’t want to—”

Koda cut her off. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” His demeanor went rigid again. Formal. Apparently without toilet paper in the mix, he was going to be a tough nut to crack. “We wouldn’t want her to feel like a fifth wheel.”

Maggie shot him a look. It was one thing for her to say it. Another for him to. She wasn’t nearly as stubborn as her mother, but she’d never been one to back down from a challenge, either. And he was starting to represent a hell of one.

“Nonsense,” Candi said. “I know Aunt A wouldn’t mind. I’ll call her tonight.”

Frowning, he put a hand on the back of his neck and rubbed methodically. “I don’t think—”

“I’d love to,” Maggie said, and smiled sweetly.

Chapter Six

Koda watched Maggie Sullivan walk out the door, not thinking about the way her green eyes had looked just now, or the way her hair corkscrewed about her face. Or the way those jeans cupped her slender backside.

Mostly, he just wanted to throttle her.

“Well,
that
was rude.” Candi swatted his arm.

“Rude, how? She’s staying right across the street. She doesn’t need an escort to walk across the damn street.” Unable to help it, he looked out the window at her retreating form. Actually, she probably did need an escort.

“There’s a murderer on the loose, or have you forgotten? Besides, isn’t it in your job description to protect us female folk?” She batted her lashes, coaxing a reluctant smile from his lips. She was always teasing, always trying to get him to loosen up.

“Maybe I should try protecting you from yourself,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you don’t need to be involved in this.”

“In what?”

“You know what.”

“I like her. I like talking to her. Is that so bad?”

“
Yes.
”

“Why?”

“Because she’s here to prove that someone in this town murdered Aimee Styles, that’s why.”

“I think someone in this town
did
murder Aimee Styles, and you do, too,” Candi said, whispering for the barista’s benefit. “Maybe y’all could use a little help.”

He bristled. “Help? From
her
?”

“She’s not an idiot, Koda. Would it kill you to help her out? Maybe she’ll see a different angle or something. Something you missed.”

“Please.”

Candi tilted her chin. He knew her well enough to see she was done talking about it. “Well, I like her. And it’s been a long time since I’ve had a girlfriend around here. I get so tired of men trying to decide what’s best for me. And that includes you, mister.”

“Candi—”

“Don’t want to hear it. I’ll be there tomorrow night, and so will Maggie. Get used to it.”

Grabbing her keys from the table, she threw her purse over her shoulder and walked out the door, leaving him standing there wondering what just happened.

Koda Wolfe didn’t mind working nights. Actually, he kind of liked it. He was an introvert by nature and the darkness and chill that fell over the small town as dusk crept in suited his personality just fine.

He sat in his SUV now, his sheepskin-lined jacket pulled high around his neck, and listened to the occasional voices coming through the radio. It was a slow night. He’d stopped patrolling half an hour ago, ending up outside the bar with the motor running, watching and waiting with a resigned look on his face. Sooner or later some drunken idiot would stumble out into the fog and end up peeing on something, fighting someone, or both.

The radio crackled, and he reached over to turn it up.

“Four Victor Ten?” said the dispatcher. Abigail.

“Go ahead,” he said, cuing the mic on his shoulder.

“A motorist hit some sort of an animal just south of exit 21. Another motorist called it in. Unknown if you’ll need to dispatch.”

Koda sighed. He hated shooting half-dead animals on the side of the road. More than likely the driver would be upset. And more than likely it’d be messy.

“Copy. Anyone hurt?”

“Negative. Just shaken up.”

“What kind of animal?”

“Said it was a big dog.”

“Copy. En route.”

“Copy that.”

Koda pulled out of the lot and drove slowly through the fog. It had rolled in after the rain and settled so thickly over the streets that in some areas he couldn’t see ten feet in front of his vehicle. He passed the bar to his right and hoped that no one got too stupid tonight. He was the only deputy on duty this far north, and with this fog, it’d take a while to get any backup.

By the time he pulled onto the freeway and turned around in the grassy median, it was shortly after midnight. He crept along with the light bar flashing an eerie blue and red into the mist.

Just ahead, he could make out the beginnings of someone’s hazards. After putting the SUV into park, he got out and walked through the freezing night air toward the little car ahead. The little
yellow
car ahead.

Shit.

Maggie stood beside the passenger door, hugging herself. She only wore a light sweater, and he could see her shaking from where he stood. There were obvious tear tracks down her pale face, and her hair hung in damp clumps against her neck.

“It was just there,” she said, her voice laced with panic. “It jumped in front of my car.”

He stepped close, taking her in, from the top of her head to her scuffed tennis shoes, completely wrong for winter mountain living. A small cut glistened on her forehead and was already surrounded by nasty purple swelling. Tears streaked her cheeks and she wiped them with the back of her hand. She was a beautiful mess.

He took his jacket off and draped it across her shoulders.

“Hold still,” he said, cupping her face. The cut was deep, but probably wouldn’t need stitches, which was good, because by the time he got her down the mountain, it’d probably be too late anyway. He looked down into her eyes, and she stared back. They were wide, but weren’t wandering. She seemed focused. Other than the shivering, she stood straight and still, not swaying at all.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“It was right here. It was—”

“I’m not concerned about that right now. I’m concerned about you. How do you feel?”

“I…” She sniffed. “My head hurts.”

“I know it does. We’re gonna take care of that. Do you feel dizzy at all? Nauseous?”

She shook her head.

“Good. That’s good.” He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until she answered, and he took a deep breath. Even in this day and age, it could be dangerous living this far up. He’d seen people die from car accidents before they could get help fast enough.

Maggie continued staring at him with those scared eyes, and he had a sudden urge to pick her up and carry her to his truck. Away from whatever had run in front of her car and could very easily have killed her. Out of this godforsaken cold-ass night and into somewhere warm and safe. She looked like someone who’d just seen a ghost.

Taking her by the elbow, he led her onto the gravel by the side of the road. It crunched underneath his boots, as if objecting to the weight.

“Now,” he said. “Tell me what happened.”

“It was right here.” She pointed to the front of her car. “I turned around and it was gone.”

“What was gone?”

“A big dog. The biggest dog I’ve ever seen. It was at least waist high.” She motioned toward her own hips, which were partially obscured by his jacket. “And it was black. I didn’t see it until I was right on it. It came up over the hood and then rolled off to the side of the road. I
saw
it. I got out of the car and came around, and it looked dead. It was bloody. And wasn’t moving.”

He looked at the hood of the car, which bore no marks, no dents whatsoever, and then narrowed his eyes at her. She might have hit her head harder than he’d thought.

“A car passed and I turned around, and it was…gone.
Gone.”

He walked over and kneeled in front of the fender. She followed so closely that he could feel her heat, smell her scent.

He ran his hand along the chrome, leaving a clear trail in the grime. No dent. No hair. No blood.

He looked up, and her face contorted. “I hit something. You believe me, don’t you?”

“I believe you hit something. But it obviously wasn’t hard enough to kill it. Or even injure it that badly if it was able to get up and run away.”

“But it
was
injured. I saw it.”

“Maybe you clipped a bear or something. It might have been able to withstand a nudge with a car.” Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. Hitting a bear, even a small one, would have left some kind of mark on the car.

“It wasn’t a nudge, Deputy.”

Blood trickled from the cut on her head as if to emphasize her point, and he sighed. “No, I guess it wasn’t.”

“Then what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t driving.”

She looked over her shoulder into the woods. “Whatever I hit is hurt somewhere out there. It’s got to be.”

He knew where this was going.
Christ.

“We can’t just leave it out there to die.”

“Sure we can,” he said, standing up. “I’m going to drive you back to the Inn. You can come back tomorrow and pick up your car. There’s a good shoulder here. It’ll be fine.”

“Deputy.” She grabbed his arm. The feel of her hand through his uniform sleeve was almost hot, in stark contrast to the bitter cold they were standing in. “Please.”

He turned, prepared to tell her to get her ass in the truck. Prepared to make her, if necessary. It was cold, and he was tired of standing out here on the side of the road. But the look on her face made him stop.

“Please. I can’t leave it out there, hurt. Will you just check? And then I’ll go. I promise.”

They considered each other for a long moment. Koda could think of a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t venture into those woods, and just one why he should. And she was standing there now, freezing, bleeding, and looking stubbornly tenacious. For some reason that touched some deep, primal part of himself. He admired that tenacity. As incredibly maddening as it was.

“All right,” he said. “Crap. All right. I’ll go take a look. But you’re going to sit in the truck where it’s safe, got it?”

“Got it.”

A smiled bloomed across her face, transforming it into something reserved for magazine pages and movie screens. His chest tightened. If she’d asked him to run to the equator and back, he’d do it, or gladly die trying.

He opened the door and she climbed in, her feet slipping on the icy running board. He reached out to steady her and grabbed her hip. His face warmed. He’d meant to take her elbow.

She shrugged his coat off. “You’ll probably want this back.”

He took it, aware that she’d only been wearing it for a few minutes and it still smelled incredible. “Stay right here, understand?”

“Yes.”

He leaned across and retrieved his rifle from the backseat, brushing her arm in the process. She caught his eye, and it was as if she pulled away from him.

“I’ll be right back.”

She flinched, and again he wondered how hard she’d hit her head.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He let his gaze drop to her lips, where she kept wetting them with her tongue. She was scared. That much was obvious. What he couldn’t understand was why it was having such a powerful effect on him. Again, he had the urge to take her away from here. From whatever was causing that panicked look in her eyes. But she wanted him to take a look. And for some reason, he couldn’t seem to tell her no. So he would. And then he could get her back to the Inn, where she’d at least be warm again.

Nodding, he closed the door and turned toward the tree line, which was only a few yards away. The spaces between the frosty pines were dark and gaping. Sinister. He swallowed. He’d grown up here, born and raised. When you were a Tututni Indian, you were expected to be comfortable with the forest. At one with it, in the daylight as well as night. And mostly, he was.

But honestly, the woods around here were spooky as shit.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Maggie peering out the window, her face a pale moon behind the foggy glass. She wiggled her fingers at him, and he waved back, suddenly feeling ridiculous. He was a Deep Water County sheriff’s deputy. He’d seen murderers, rapists, rabid wild animals, car accidents, train wrecks, and one helicopter crash. He could certainly handle going in there to find one injured dog.

Clenching his jaw, he clicked on his flashlight. Holding it in one hand and his rifle in the other, he walked down the slight embankment, careful not to slip and fall on his ass. He could almost feel the weight of Maggie’s stare on his back. It wasn’t like he was trying to impress this girl. That was stupid. However, he
would
like to keep from shooting himself in the balls in front of her. That’d be nice.

He stepped inside the woods following the strong blue beam of the flashlight. It didn’t cut through the fog, so much as illuminate it. The forest floor was damp and spongy underneath Koda’s boots, and moisture dripped from the trees around him. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, and chills rose up the back of his neck.

“Here, puppy, puppy…”

The woods smelled wet. The scent of pine mingled with that of moist bark and moss. Koda looked around, sweeping the beam of the flashlight back and forth. The owl hooted again.

“Here, puppy.”

Off to his right, a twig snapped.

“Dog?”

Silence. Even the owl didn’t answer this time, and the goose bumps that had risen on Koda’s neck, now crept onto his scalp. He took a step forward, his boots sinking into the soggy forest floor. “Where are you, boy?”

Some Tututni.
Spooked by a poor animal with a broken leg. But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn’t the dog that had him spooked.

“Pup?” Koda’s finger hugged the rifle trigger. “Come on.”

Snap.
Another twig broke, this time closer.

An icy drop of condensation landed on the back of his neck. Koda stared into the darkness where the sound had come from, forcing himself to hold still.

Something was there with him. He was sure of it now.

The legend
. It was the one thought that crouched at the edge of his mind, always there, always stalking his subconscious. Some crazy urban legend about Wolfe Creek that had somehow managed to survive all these years. He knew better, of course. But sometimes despite that, it got the best of him.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said, sweeping the flashlight to the left. Then to the right, the barrel of his rifle, a rigid iron finger pointing at the unknown.

And then, from somewhere deep in the belly of the mountain night, was a low rumble. He froze. It was a warning. Instinctually he knew that, just like he knew if he took another step, he might not be fast enough to shoot whatever it was in the cover of those trees and shrubs. A cougar maybe? A bear? It sure as hell wasn’t any fucking dog.