Realm of the Wolf Book I: Wolf Dance (8 page)

Sheriff Moss had just raised his hand to knock again when

Laura opened the door. "Ma'am," Paul greeted her with a

smile.

"Hello, sheriff." Laura made a feeble attempt to return his

smile, but her still sleeping body refused to respond.

"May I come in?" His blue eyes danced with humor.

"Yes, of course." Laura blushed. Embarrassed by her own

lack of manners, she stepped aside to allow him entrance.

Laura led him toward the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of

coffee?" she asked while in the process of putting a pot on to

cook.

"Yes, that sounds great. And by the way, my name is

Paul," he told her as he was taking a seat at the kitchen

table.

"Well, Sheriff Paul...." she had turned away from the stove

to face him. "You're out and about early this morning." A

smile touched her lips.

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He caught on to the fact that she wasn't real thrilled about

being woken up at eight o'clock on a Saturday morning.

"Sorry about waking you, Miss Ellison, but this is the first free

moment I've had in the last couple of days. Figured I'd better

get out here and get this taken care of before something else

comes up."

"That's fine, as long as something is being done." Laura

rubbed at her tired eyes. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I

need to dress."

"No problem, and I am sorry."

Laura dressed quickly in a white sundress, and then ran a

brush through her hair. When she was finished, she reached

under her bed and pulled out the mangled briefcase.

Returning to the kitchen, Laura placed it on the table in front

of the sheriff.

His eyes traveled from her to the object in front of him,

and without comment he picked it up to examine it. After a

few moments he looked up at her.

"Where did you say you found this?" he asked.

"About halfway between here and Beaver Creek ... in the

woods."

"And how did you happen to be out there to find it?"

Laura explained how it had happened. When she finished

she noticed that he was eyeing her skeptically.

After a moment he smiled. "I don't think this is anything

significant. It was torn up by an animal, that's clear enough."

Laura wrinkled her forehead. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, too messy to be anything else."

"What about all his clothes?" Laura persisted.

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"Where are they?" he questioned.

"Next to the couch ... in the living room. I boxed them up

so that I could have room for my own clothes." She was

pointing toward the other room.

"Mind if I take a look ... while you are pouring us some of

that coffee?"

"Okay." Laura took two cups from the cupboard and filled

them with the steaming brown liquid. She placed the cups on

the table and waited for his return.

Before long he came back into the kitchen wearing a

baffled expression. After taking a small drink of his coffee, he

told her, "I'll have to agree with you about Mitchell, there

does seem to be something wrong there."

Laura smiled. "What's changed your mind, sheriff?"

"I shouldn't really confide any of the details of our

investigation, but I can tell you this much. Not even his family

in New Mexico has heard from him since his disappearance."

"We already knew that much—that's one of the reasons I

was sent here in the first place," she informed him.

"From here on out, it's strictly police business. You'd be

better off to stay out of it. Safer too—just in case there is foul

play involved." His tone of voice was like that of a parent

lecturing a child.

"In that case, I wish you luck with your investigation."

Laura's smile was strained. His condescending attitude grated

on her nerves. And of course, she had no intention of staying

out of the investigation.

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Paul finished the last of his coffee and then stood to leave.

"Well, thank you very much, Miss Ellison. I'm sure things will

turn out just fine."

"Yes, I'm sure they will." She was not so much agreeing

with him, as trying to convince herself.

In the living room, he pointed toward the box. "I will have

to take that with me."

"It's all yours."

After he picked up the box, Laura opened the door for him.

On the porch he stopped and turned around. "Another thing,

Miss Ellison. The Wildlife people said that they have had other

reports, so do be careful."

"Yes, I will ... thank you."

Standing at the door, she watched him leave. Though the

man could be quite irritating at times, Laura realized that she

had been glad for the company. Back in the kitchen, she

poured herself another cup of coffee and took it out on the

porch. It was such a beautiful morning and she didn't want to

waste it inside with the gloominess of the cabin.

The sun penetrated the shimmering leaves of the tall

aspens, bathing the purple and red wildflowers in golden

light. A hummingbird flew past, missing her head by mere

inches. Laura sighed, reclining on one of the two chairs that

sat on the cabin's porch. She had to wonder how a place of

such beauty could feel so desolate and lonely.

Laura smiled to herself, realizing that she was still feeling

bad because of the events of last night. Thinking of Justin

brought the scene clearly into focus and with it, bittersweet

pain. Laura shook her head, feeling foolish about the whole

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episode. Every time she found herself in his arms, she turned

to soft putty and seemed to lose her mind.

She was not a woman of the world, but she did have some

idea about how it all worked. Kenny had been her first, and

she his. Together they had experienced the pleasures of the

flesh. Their love had been a sweet, innocent love—a memory

to always treasure.

So why had she reacted so violently to his touch? It was so

different from Kenny, so intense. She could still see the

smoldering passion in his eyes, and she felt her body

responding, even to the memory of his touch.

Laura closed her eyes, trying to bring her feelings under

control. It was lust, and that's all. She tried to reassure

herself. The one thing she was certain of—she wouldn't let

herself come under Justin Gray Eagle's spell again. Laura

could only hope that there wouldn't be a situation where her

new resolve would be tested.

Draining the last of her coffee, it dawned on her that she

had been sitting out here for nearly an hour and still had no

idea of what to do with her time today. She finally decided

that she would take a look at the logging camp and maybe do

some exploring.

Laura went inside to pack a picnic, thinking it would be

nice to stop somewhere for lunch.

She made up her mind to start in Brantic City. Exploring

on foot would give her a chance to get a closer look at some

of the interesting old buildings. Laura started walking down

the main road, but before long the road ended at a cemetery.

Curiosity drew her through the wrought-iron gates. She noted

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the overgrown weeds and thought of how sad it was that no

caretaker kept the place nice for those who had passed on.

Many of the headstones were weather beaten and in different

stages of decay.

Stepping carefully through the thick weeds, Laura tried to

read as many of the headstones as she could. For some

reason, an odd sense of discomfort settled over her.

Unexpectedly, she was hit with the certainty that she was

being watched. A shiver traveled up her spine. This was all it

took to persuade Laura that the time had definitely come to

leave.

While walking back to her car, Laura tried to pinpoint what

exactly it had been about the graves that had iced her

nerves. It was not until she had gotten in and started the

engine that it hit her.

The dates on the headstones! Most of the people had died

so young. She thought about it for a moment, and then

smiled when another realization came to her. Dying young

was not so unusual in the Old West. It could have been small

pox, Indians, any number of things.

Laura laughed out loud. She had spooked herself again

with her overactive imagination.

She made a u-turn and headed north. Just before coming

to the saloon she spotted a sign pointing north in the

direction of the Sweet Water Mine. Taking the road, she was

determined to find out as much as she could about the area.

The road began a sharp incline, but she soon came to a turn-

off that led to the mine.

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From the car, she could make out an array of mining

equipment scattered through the gulch. Deciding to walk the

steep road that led to the mine, Laura's eyes searched the

gulch. There seemed to be no one in sight. Though it

appeared to be a working mine, it was completely deserted.

"Hello! Anyone here?" she called out.

Nothing ... The only answer she received was the eerie

sound of the wind.

Nearing the mine's entrance, she again called into the

darkness. "Is anyone here?" Her words echoed through the

endless tunnels.

A voice boomed from behind her. "Hey there, little gal.

Don't you know you're trespassing?"

His yelling caught her off guard, startling her. Laura cut

short a scream when she recognized who it was. The old

miner who she'd met on the day of her arrival stood close

behind her.

"Oh Lord! You scared me nearly to death." Laura laughed

nervously.

His stare was hard and full of suspicion.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't see a sign posted," she tried to

explain.

"Makes no difference. You go snooping around someone's

mine, you're liable to get shot."

"I said I was sorry," Laura apologized once again.

"You'd be that gal that works for those clear-cut fools."

Laura nodded an affirmation.

"Well, you'd best be getting on your way." He turned away

from her and spit a wad of tobacco into the dry dirt.

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"Excuse me, sir, but what is your name?"

"Name's Hughes ... Dewey Hughes." The old man's voice

was as rough as sandpaper.

"Is there any way I can ask you a few questions?"

"Nope." He made no attempt to hide his obvious distrust.

"One of our employees by the name of Dan Mitchell has

disappeared. Do you have any idea what might have

happened to him?" Her voice remained polite, in spite of his

rude behavior.

"Lady, you don't listen very well do you? I done told you I

don't have anything to say."

"Mr. Hughes, I'm sorry to intrude on you like this, but

there is something very wrong around here. There is a man

missing. Doesn't that mean anything to you people?" Laura

was unable to keep her irritation from coming through in her

voice.

"Miss, it isn't any of my affair, and if you had any smarts

you'd skin on out of here yourself," he warned.

Thinking it best to change the subject for now, she pushed

on. "I was looking around the graveyard in Brantic City today

and I noticed a lot of people around here died at a young age.

Do you know why?"

"Well ... I'm not all that old Missy, but it's been said that a

lot of those people that lay in that cemetery were put there

by the Indians."

That is when it dawned on her what else had troubled her

about the graves. "It seems to me that several of those

graves are Twentieth-century. That couldn't have been the

Indians. When you walk through that cemetery, you get the

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idea that Brantic City became a ghost town as a result of its

residence dying rather than relocating."

His eyes held the mischievous gleam of someone who is

keeping a secret that they find very amusing. "I'll bet your

Mr. Mitchell could answer your questions, and if you keep

going the way you are . . . you just might get the chance to

ask him about it." His cackling laughter followed him as he

started toward some outbuildings.

"Hey, if you know anything about his disappearance it

would be best if you talk to me about it. If you don't tell me,

you'll just have to talk to the police," Laura yelled after him.

He made no effort to respond, but kept walking. The old

fart was probably just a nut, she concluded. Laura started

back to her car, thinking it would be best to let the police

handle it anyway. As soon as they got the cutting well

underway she was going home.