Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  “I’m sure. I’m sorry your family had to go through that. I really am. Loss is never easy.”

  She sighed softly, and when he glanced her way, he found her looking out the window with her chin on her palm. The air rushing through the open windows had left her no choice but to jam a hat over her long hair to keep it out of her face. Even so, the scent of it carried to him, impossibly enticing, her shampoo bringing to mind a tropical vacation. When was the last time he’d even had a vacation?

  Better yet, when was the last time he’d consider taking one?

  “It looks like we take the next right,” Jenna observed, pointing to the screen. “They’re a mile down on the left.”

  He let out a low whistle as they drove through a rather impressive neighborhood—if it could be called a neighborhood, the brick mansions spaced acres apart, all of them set far back from the road, some surrounded by iron fencing. “At least they were paid well for what they did to us,” he snickered, shaking his head.

  “That’s pretty morbid,” Jenna observed.

  “It doesn’t make it untrue.” Finally, the Douglas house appeared once they passed a line of neatly trimmed yew trees which formed a natural fence between one property in the next.

  He whistled again. It was like something out of a painting, an ideal, perfect sanctuary. Everything was manicured and maintained within an inch of its life, right down to the spotlessly clean gutters hanging over the third floor of the sprawling residence. There wasn’t so much as a spot on a window, a leaf on the lawn.

  “The driveway is empty,” Jenna observed as they rolled slowly past. Not too slowly, not so slow as to attract attention.

  “They could be parked in the garage,” he reasoned as they continued on. In case there were cameras somewhere picking up their movement, he couldn’t run the risk of driving straight past again too soon. Would Mr. Douglas be on the alert now that Lydia was no longer breathing? Did he even know?

  He took the long way around, and after fifteen minutes, they rolled past the house again. “I don’t know,” Jenna murmured. “It looks quiet. See the little doghouse? There’s a basketball hoop, a trampoline.” She craned her neck, trying to take in everything at once. “And it’s an absolutely gorgeous day. There should be at least somebody outside. Even the dog.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Though he suspected she was right, that her instincts were just as strong as his. It was easy to forget she was a wolf, just the way he was. Though she managed to suppress the wolf’s hold on her, something of that heightened awareness must have leaked through. It could explain how she understood them so well from the very beginning. How she’d found them.

  “Maybe we could find a motel or something, get settled in, then come back later? At night, the lights would come on, right? We might get lucky and see somebody inside.”

  “I can see your point,” he conceded, “but I wonder if there’s any purpose to doing that. Look, we found out what we need to know. There are kids in the household young enough to enjoy a trampoline and a basketball hoop set up outside the house. We’ll have to catch this guy when he’s alone, away from the house—or after the kids going to school, something.”

  “I couldn’t find anything about his family online.” It was clear from the way she said it that she resented what she probably viewed as a failing on her part.

  “Hey, these people are serious in what they do. They want to keep their families out of it, remove all trace of them from their online presence.” Logan looked around. “Well, the houses are all quiet enough, and spaced far enough apart that there’s little chance of an intruder being noticed. If we have to get into the house to get to him, I’m certain we could do it without raising any red flags.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” He nodded, signaling for her to continue. “Why couldn’t we do this remotely? Why couldn’t you just, I don’t know, use satellite images to see where he lived, how he lived?”

  “You tell me. No, really. Tell me. That was the sort of thing you did when you served, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why would I prefer to go in person?”

  It was clear she thought about it before answering, which was a good thing. “Because none of these people exist in a bubble. They have families and neighbors and lives.”

  “Right. I like to get a feel for people on a personal level, and I like to do it whenever I can. Sure, sometimes the situation doesn’t allow for it; sometimes it does.”

  Jenna looked up local motels, landing on one that seemed reasonably clean and reasonably priced. “Of course, their online reservation system is down,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes. “Honestly, if that’s how you do your business, you’re an idiot not to get a decent website and scheduler.”

  When they arrived at the motel, however, situated only twenty minutes from the Douglas residence, he thought he understood. The woman behind the desk had to be pushing eighty years old. The TV propped at one corner of the counter was the old-fashioned kind with rabbit ears. Yet there were plenty of cars and trucks parked outside in spite of the failed online system. He assumed they made their money from passing travelers.

  “Do you have two rooms available? Preferably next to each other?” He asked, noting the way the woman’s eyes widened when she took in his size. That was something he’d gotten used to over time.

  She turned, looking over the wall behind her. It was truly like something out of the past—keys hung from a series of hooks driven into the paneling. “Only have one room will available, king-sized bed.”

  “We can go someplace else,” Jenna murmured behind him.

  The woman had keen hearing for someone of her age. “You can try,” she chuckled. “But everyone in a twenty-mile radius is either solid because of a festival going on this weekend, or they’re the rent by the hour type of place.”

  She sized them both up, eyes narrowing. “Unless that’s what you’re in the market for, in which case you can be on your way.”

  Jenna made a strange sort of choking noise and turned away, leaving him on his own to deal with an embarrassing situation. “No, that’s not what we’re here for. I guess the king room is fine.” He could always sleep on the floor if that’s what it came to.

  Because no way would he be able to share a bed with her, king-sized or not, without temptation keeping him awake all night. It was bad enough they would have to share a room, breathing the same air. If he got so much as a minute of sleep, it would be a miracle.

  He went about the business of checking in and was just accepting the room key when Jenna clutched his arm. It surprised him, his head snapping around in her direction.

  She was as white as a sheet, staring at the TV where a report of the tragic death of Jack Douglas was playing out on the screen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You can’t be serious.” Logan blinked hard, his mouth hanging open. “No, there’s no way we could pull that off.”

  It wasn’t surprising. She wasn’t delusional. She hadn’t expected him to go for her idea right away. It was a good idea, maybe the best she’d had in a while. There was no way she was about to miss the opportunity to get insider information. “Fine, you don’t have to come. I can do this on my own. I’ll probably blend in much better than you ever could anyway.”

  “Is that supposed to be an insult?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She scowled down at him, stretched out on the bed with his hands locked behind his head.

  The only bed in the room. Her palms went clammy. They hadn’t discussed that little fly in the ointment yet, too busy talking about how to regroup after yet another complication had reared its ugly head.

  Jack Douglas was already dead. He’d been dead five days by then, killed in a crash. He was alone in the car, at least, but now she understood why the house looked so empty and lifeless.

  “I should’ve been on top of this,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I should’ve kept tabs on these people. I sort of fell off as of l
ate, since I had other distractions to worry about.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to be talking about my group, would you?”

  She only rolled her eyes. “We could’ve spared ourselves all that driving.”

  “Last time I checked, I was the one driving.”

  Another eye roll. “You know what I mean. We could’ve spared both of ourselves and gone to Delaware instead to look up Fred Harris.”

  “Well, now we know to set up alerts on each of the other three names,” he mused. “I could have Val keep tabs on them as we head north so we don’t waste time.”

  “But see, that’s my point. This doesn’t have to be a waste of time.”

  “If you think I’m going to go to that man’s funeral, you are insane.”

  “I never said anything about going to the funeral.”

  He sat straight up, scowling. “Did you or did you not just suggest minutes ago that we dress in black and infiltrate the funeral party tomorrow afternoon?”

  She winced. “I wouldn’t call it a party, Logan. A luncheon. They’re having a luncheon for him at the family home.”

  “You know what I mean,” he huffed. “It’s morbid, for one thing, and dangerous.”

  “What’s so dangerous about it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

  “What if someone recognizes us?”

  “Who in the world would recognize us? It’s been so many years, for one thing. For another, what are the chances of anybody involved in the project attending the funeral luncheon? That whole project was broken up years ago. These people never saw each other anymore and maybe for good reason.”

  “Why do you insist on putting us both in the crosshairs?”

  “We don’t both have to be in the crosshairs.” She folded her arms, smirking in triumph. “You can stay in the car. I’ll be the one who gets dressed up and goes inside. You can listen in.” She motioned toward the pair of earpieces sitting on the nightstand. He’d brought them along in case they were separated and needed to speak to each other more discreetly than over a phone.

  “Not a chance! I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

  “Then you come in with me.”

  It was practically impossible not to laugh when he picked up a pillow and punched it. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “What is the big deal?” she asked, throwing her hands into the air. “You and I both know how these people operate. What if the accident wasn’t really an accident? People talk, especially in situations like that, all together in a luncheon. Sure, they’ll be sharing stories about what a great guy he was, what a wonderful husband and father.” She scoffed. “But I’m telling you, if anybody thinks his death was suspicious, they’ll talk about it. Call it a hunch.”

  He practically snarled, his lip curling. She guessed he was supposed to be scary, but all she could do was fight the giggles threatening to burst free. It was so easy to get under his skin and rile him up like taking candy from a baby. “It seems like taking a risk for the sake of taking a risk.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s not. Wouldn’t you rather know the situation? What people are thinking? Don’t you want to know all you can about this guy?”

  “Honestly, no. I don’t.”

  She took a step away from him, stunned. “So it doesn’t matter to you that he might have been behind all these attempts to kill us? To kill people we care about?”

  “Dead is dead. And if somebody killed him, all they did was make life easier for us.”

  “I’m going. And I can always rent a car and drive myself back up to North Jersey if it makes you feel better, but I am going to go tomorrow whether you like it or not.”

  “And if I restrain you?” he asked in a dangerous, low voice. A strange light flickered in his eyes.

  She lifted her chin. “You can try. It might not go the way you think. Size isn’t everything.”

  When a sly grin spread across his face, she could’ve smacked herself. “I’ve never had to worry about that problem, so I wouldn’t know,” he practically purred.

  Terrific. Just what they both needed to be thinking about while sharing a motel room—and a bed. “You know what I mean, smartass. I went through training too. And my physical strength is still a lot better than it used to be, even with the pills.”

  She looked around the room, shrugging. “The way I see it, we would destroy this place.”

  “And I can think of much better ways to destroy a motel room.”

  What was the matter with him? It was like sitting on a bed had completely destroyed any hope of him acting like a professional. Granted, nobody could be completely professional all the time, but she expected better from him. He wasn’t usually like this. Smirky, full of double-entendres.

  Flirty.

  And she didn’t hate it. Not by a long shot. But it would’ve been nice if he would’ve been a little more consistent so she could know what to expect from one minute to the next.

  “So can I,” she agreed with a sweet smile. “So let’s not waste our time fighting physically. Okay? Don’t even bother trying to stop me.”

  They were in the truck minutes later with Jenna directing Logan into the nearest mall. She tried not to smile triumphantly throughout their shopping trip, but it wasn’t easy. She had always been a poor winner.

  And they needed funeral clothes.

  “It looks like everybody else is alive and well, at least for now,” Val announced, staring out at them through the screen on Logan’s laptop. “I’m mad at myself for not picking up on Douglas’s death sooner.”

  “He wasn’t exactly famous,” Logan pointed out, picking a fresh slice of pizza out of the box on the bed. “I’m sure if the accident hadn’t caused a chain reaction and resulted in a pile-up, he never would’ve made the news.” According to news reports that Jenna had been scrolling through since they returned to their room, more than a dozen cars were involved, and the interstate was backed up for miles in the hours after the crash.

  If it had been planned, the plan hadn’t exactly gone well. Sure, Jack Douglas was dead, but the accident hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “At least we won’t be wasting my time going forward,” Jenna pointed out, trying to be helpful. “And we can still get intel tomorrow. So all isn’t lost.”

  “Can we not talk about that?” Logan growled, shooting daggers at her from his eyes. “I still can’t believe you talked me into it.”

  Val coughed, though Jenna suspected she was trying to cover up a laugh. It was clear she enjoyed seeing her boss unraveled a little, no longer quite so put together. “Well, be careful out there. I’ll get back to you if I find anything else.” She ended the call then, probably so she could laugh without Logan being the wiser.

  Their new clothes hung on the rack which took the place of a closet, a reminder of what they were going to take on the following afternoon. It was hardly the first time either of them had used subterfuge—if anything, she would’ve expected him to jump at the chance to practice a little spycraft.

  But no, he had to go and act like a crotchety old lady. She had half a mind to suggest she go with the lady who sat at the front desk, who would probably have the stones to do what needed to be done. The woman looked like she’d seen things, experienced things.

  She might’ve said it too if it wasn’t for the uneasy, unspoken truce between them. He had almost acted normal ever since they’d arrived in Roanoke, and she didn’t want to ruin that, not when it was so much more fun to deal with him when he wasn’t in an awful mood.

  Except the clock was ticking. They’d have to go to sleep soon. She had the feeling neither of them wanted to talk about it, though they would have to eventually.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she announced in a voice way louder than the small room required.

  He shrugged, polishing off his fourth slice. “Go ahead. You mind if I finish this?” he asked, pointing to the last slice in the box. He had also enjoyed a large salad, an order of buffalo wings, and fri
es. The room smelled like a fast-food joint.

  “Go right ahead,” she shrugged, grabbing her pajamas and toiletry bag before retreating to the safety of the bathroom.

  It was small but clean without so much as a dust bunny or—God forbid—stray hairs in the corners. The water pressure was good too, the room soon filling with steam.

  That steam was nothing compared to what was going on inside her like a fire building, growing, spreading all through her. There were times when their eyes met, and she was sure she would just spontaneously burst into flame. That was the effect he had on her, the effect she struggled with.

  He was so unpredictable. One minute he was tender and passionate; the next, he turned cold. He could spend hours not talking to her after an argument, and then he could act like nothing went wrong in the first place. And people said women were hard to reason with. He was the worst.

  She almost wished Val hadn’t told her about Beth since now all she could think about was everything he must’ve gone through. Her heart was already way too soft and tender when it came to him—to soften up any further would be a big mistake.

  Either that or it could be amazing. It could be wonderful because now she could hope, hope that had been born with that kiss, hope that there might be more to life than being alone, that somebody in the world understood.

  And even more importantly, that he wanted her anyway, even knowing what she was.

  Only the thought of him having to use the bathroom and being unable to because she wouldn’t leave got her to unlock the door and swing it open once she was dressed and presentable. If it were up to her, she would’ve slept in the tub—anything to avoid what was sure to be painfully awkward.

  As it turned out, there was nothing for her to worry about. Logan hadn’t even managed to stay awake long enough to have their awkward conversation, determining sleeping arrangements. He had cleared the whole matter up on his own, falling asleep on top of the comforter, still fully dressed.

  And unless he was an expert at pretending to snore, he was most definitely out cold.