Shadows Have Gone (25 page)

“Carly, look.” On Miz Marson’s grave was a bundle of wildflowers, tied with a ribbon. Nearby, there was a lone shoe lying on the ground, tipped on its side and still tied. Carly had seen Veronica in these black and pink sneakers many times. Sam sniffed it, then whined and shifted on his paws.

“Shit,” Pearl whispered.

Carly crouched and picked up the shoe to put it in her backpack. Pearl gave her a questioning look.

“When we find her, she’s going to need it,” Carly said. “Now, let’s look around for the direction she went.”

“No need to look around.” Pearl pointed. It was a boot print in the soft, damp soil, a fresh one from the look of the crushed grass between the print of the boot treads. A man’s boot.

“Let’s go.”

“Carly, don’t you think we should go back for the others now that we know she’s not just lost?”

“Not yet. Not until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Maybe you should have Sam howl and alert the others?” Pearl’s breath fogged white in the air around her face. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the tree line.

Carly took a deep breath. “Pearl, I’m not sure I want to lure anyone else here.”

Pearl considered for a moment and nodded.

They followed the path toward the road. In a bramble of raspberry vines, a scrap of cloth was caught on a thorn.

Carly examined the piece, and there was no need to ask Pearl if she recognized it. Both of them had seen Veronica wearing this purple coat many times. She turned the scrap of fabric in her fingers and frowned. “These thorns aren’t sharp enough to tear off a piece of nylon like this. And look, these fibers have been cut, not torn. This piece was cut off and left here for us to find.”

“That’s it, we’re going back now,” Pearl said. She grabbed Carly’s arm to draw her back in the direction they had come, but it was too late.

A truck rounded the corner at almost the same time as they heard the sound of its engine. Pearl and Carly spun in the road, looking for cover, but there was none. None they could reach in time, in any case. The brakes screeched as it pulled up beside them. There were five of them, and they had guns. Three rifles and two pistols were pointed in their direction from behind the sides of the truck. Eyes peeped at them from behind the cover.

Sam snarled, crouching low for a leap. Carly flicked a hand at him, and he froze. His lips were pulled back from his dagger-like teeth, and every hair on his back stood bristling, but he was silent and still. Perhaps even more menacing for the silence.

There was a crunch of boots as a group got down from the truck. Two men in fatigues cautiously stepped away from the tailgate, eyeing Sam with more trepidation than the two armed women beside him. Veronica struggled against their grip. One man held a pistol, not pointed at her but an obvious threat just the same.

Tears streamed down Veronica’s cheeks and soaked into the bandana that had been tied around her mouth to keep her silent, and her wrists were bound behind her back. Carly glanced over her quickly and saw no sign of injury, thank God.

She scanned their faces. She saw expressions that were firm, resolute, impassive—but not malicious or sadistic. Some of them even avoided her gaze. Doing their duty, then, but not taking pleasure in it. It told her all she needed to know. The fire had been intended to lure someone out, and that someone would serve as bait.

“ ’Arly oh!” Veronica cried around the bandana.
Carly, no!

Carly nodded. She knew. She understood. But she would do what she had to in order to get Veronica free of them.

“Let her go,” Pearl said, gripping her pistol at her side. They were outgunned, but Pearl’s cheeks were red with fury and her eyes were blazing. “You fuckers don’t even
know
the kind of hell you’re gonna unleash.”

The menace in her voice was enough to make the men look at one another uneasily, even though they had the obvious upper hand.

Carly tried to see a way to win it, but the odds were against them. They had no cover, and even with Sam, they couldn’t win against five armed people and somehow manage to defend Veronica, too.

Another man hopped down from the back of the truck and strode toward them. He was just a couple of inches taller than Carly but wider and stockier, with sandy-blond hair cropped close to his head. His flushed, pink complexion gave him the look of a man who sweated a lot, even in cool weather.

He eyed Carly with a hint of surprise in his expression. “You’re Carly, aren’t you?” His eyes swept over to Sam as if for confirmation.

Carly lifted her chin. “I am. How do you know my name?”

He gave her a slight smile. “Not many women with their own wolf these days. My name’s Lieutenant Craig Meyers. I have to ask you to come with us, please.”

Pearl and Carly exchanged a glance. Pearl’s expression said,
We’ll fight it out.
Her hand shifted slightly toward the gun on her hip.

Carly shook her head. They couldn’t win. Their opponents had them outgunned, and Veronica was in the line of fire.

“Pearl, take Veronica home,” Carly said. She took the backpack from her shoulder and set it on the ground to unzip it. She heard the clicking of guns and looked up. “Relax, guys, I’m just getting her shoe.” She reached in slowly, holding the pack open so they could see all she had inside were a only a couple of bottles of water and some packets of food tucked beside a small first aid kit. She drew out the shoe and handed it to Pearl.

“Carly, no. No way.” Pearl had her hand on her gun and some of the rifles swung her way. Pearl’s eyes flicked over their faces. Counting them again and again, weighing their options. Judging their will and how fast they would be.

Sam growled again. His head dropped low, and he stared up at the occupants of the truck with burning amber eyes, waiting for Carly to release him.

“I’ll be fine. Go on.”

Carly unstrapped the gun belt from her hips and handed it to Pearl. She nodded to Craig and stepped forward. With a deep breath, she gripped the frame of the truck to hoist herself up, ignoring the hands extended to assist her. Sam sprang up beside her, and the people in the truck gave an involuntary lunge backward. “Ma’am, um, I’m gonna have to—”

“If I’m coming, so is Sam. Deal with it.” Carly glared at him until he nodded.

“Beg pardon, ma’am.” A man in his thirties stepped forward and patted down the side of Carly’s ribs, hips, and legs. But he stopped at her calves and thus missed the knife in Carly’s boot. He swiped a hand across the small of Carly’s back and released her, indicating a spot on the bench along the sides of the truck bed.

Carly ignored the suggestion and sat on the floor beside Sam. The engine started with a rumble, and the truck turned around before heading north. Pearl stared after her as the distance between them grew, hands clutched on her pistol as if still trying to figure out a way to resolve the situation, while Veronica cried beside her.

Sam glared at the troops, his head lowered, his amber eyes burning. If one of them so much as moved to scratch their nose, he peeled his lips up from his teeth and growled. Carly didn’t chastise him for it.

No one spoke. Carly put an arm around Sam and laid her cheek against his back. The men watching her would think it was a hug, but wolves saw an arm around their backs as dominance. Carly was silently reminding Sam to obey her. He turned and gave her chin a lick, as though in agreement.

Carly silently surveyed the group. They hadn’t expected to find Carly. The surprise in Craig’s eyes had told her that much. But they had hoped the fire would lure out someone they could take as a hostage so Justin would bargain for their release. That it was Carly in their clutches only made it better for them. They thought. But they hadn’t counted on Sam, and they didn’t know about the knife in Carly’s boot. Let them keep underestimating her. She heard one of them cough and mutter an apology when the sound made the person beside them jump a little.

The sun was low and red in the sky when they approached a collection of modern commercial-style buildings, square and plain, most of them clad in metal siding with flat roofs. SUNDOWN PROPANE INC, read the sign by the gate. Behind the largest building she could see huge propane storage containers. A small office building was to the right, and that was where the truck headed after two men in fatigues pulled open the gate and locked it behind them.

Carly stood when the truck stopped. Craig hopped down and offered her a hand, which she ignored as she climbed down. Sam landed beside her, as graceful as a dancer. He snarled at Craig for stepping too close, and Craig darted back a pace to give them space. Sam shook his coat as though throwing off the bad scent of being in the truck. His ears were low to his head as he surveyed their surroundings.

Carly saw young men and women peeping out of the surrounding buildings, watching with obvious curiosity as she passed. Sam gave a low grumble that drowned out their whispers.

They brought her into an office building. Craig opened the front door, which still listed the old company’s hours of operation on the glass panel. It was a one-story complex of faux-wood paneling and gray carpet, a large stained patch where customers had once stood at the counter. Along the wall were dead ficus plants, their brown leaves crumbling onto the floor. Blank computer screens stared sightlessly from dust-coated desks.

Craig gestured at one of the empty offices. “Tell your wolf to go in here.”

“I told you he was coming with me.” He was forcing her to break her promise never to leave Sam behind again.

“You’re going to speak with the Big Guy, and he ain’t going to want that wolf in his office. You’re safe, I promise, and he will be, too. Just have him wait in here.”

“Then he has nothing to fear from Sam.”

“I don’t want to shoot him, ma’am, but I will. Please, put him in there. We’ll reunite you shortly.”

Sam, sensing the rising tension, growled, a soft rumble that filled the small hall.

“Ma’am?” Craig took out his pistol and pulled back the slide to chamber a round. She could see that he wasn’t bluffing.

Carly closed her eyes. “Sam.” She gestured to the room.

Sam met her eyes for a long moment before he stepped inside. She hoped he could see she didn’t want to do it. Craig shut the door fast, almost clipping his tail.

“I hope there’s nothing in there you wanted to keep,” Carly said as a loud crack made all the men escorting her jump. “Because he’s going to vent his frustration on the furniture.”

They escorted her to the door at the end of the hall. Craig tapped twice before opening it. Carly blinked at the brightness for a moment and stared up in wonder at the glowing florescent panel in the ceiling. Electricity. It was like encountering a ghost.

Her eyes drifted downward. The man at the desk under the light fixture was ordinary—there was no other way to describe him. His was a face that was instantly forgettable because it was so bland. He was a suburban dad, or a face on a cereal ad, neither attractive or unattractive. Even as she stared at him, Carly thought that she’d never be able to pick him out of a lineup. Brown hair, trimmed neat and close to the head. Brown eyes. Clean-shaven. No feature stuck out, but he was not so symmetrical as to be called perfect, either.

“Hello, Carly,” he said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“How do you know my name?”

He just smiled.

“And who are you?”

“I think you already know that.”

“Kirgan Lewis.”

He nodded. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to one of the two cloth-covered chairs in front of the desk.

Carly crossed her arms and glared at him.

Lewis’s glance flicked up to Craig, and he took Carly by the shoulders and pushed her down into the chair. She didn’t resist because an idea was forming. It was a hail-Mary shot, but it might be her only chance.

“I apologize for being so insistent, but I’ve waited a long time to meet you.”

“Let me go,” Carly said. Her lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “Please, just let me go.” She dropped her head into her hands and hunched over, sobs wracking her form.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Craig step forward, hovering beside her chair, obviously unsure of what to do. Carly wailed louder, and he reached out to pat her clumsily on the shoulder.

Carly snatched the knife from her boot. She gripped it with both hands as she whirled around in her seat to bury it in his gut.

The shock traveled up her arm with a bolt of pain that knocked the knife from her numbed fingers. She doubled over, hugging her arms, momentarily paralyzed from the force of it.

“Ow!” Craig bellowed, staggering back. He pulled up his shirt to examine the vest he wore below it. “She actually punctured it! Look! It didn’t go all the way through, but wow . . .”

“I’ll bet you’re glad I told you to wear it now.” Lewis twirled a pen in his fingers.

Carly clutched at her arm, but she had recovered enough from the surprise to lurch to her feet and lunge toward the door. Craig thrust out an arm to stop her and caught her across the midriff, knocking her sprawling onto her back. She fell with a loud grunt as the wind was knocked out of her.

“Yeah, shit.” Craig poked at the rip in the vest before bending over to pick up the knife Carly had dropped. “That still really fuckin’ hurt. She packs quite a wallop for such a tiny thing. How’d you guess, anyway?”