by Vella Munn
There he was. Standing motionless with the trees surrounding him, watching her with what might’ve been amusement. He wasn’t a ghost dog. If she shot him, he’d die.
Maybe he knew she wasn’t going to fire her weapon today.
“Were you there?” she asked. Yes, this was an intact male. “Did you kill that woman? I don’t see how you could have and gotten back here but…”
When the dog tilted his head, she almost repeated herself, then grimaced at the crazy notion that the gray might understand what she was saying. She could’ve been in danger but didn’t quite believe it. His expression was benign. In fact, he resembled the majority of dogs she’d seen, happy to have a human in his life and comfortable in that human’s presence.
“You miss that, don’t you?” She nodded to reinforce her wisdom. “You’d like to get that easy feeling back, sad because you know it isn’t.”
Smallish ears tilted her way.
“Life sucks sometimes. We do things we can never take back and that changes everything. Did you have to kill those chickens? Maybe you didn’t have anything to do with that, don’t even know it happened.”
She was tempted to tell the gray everything she knew, starting with confessing her role in the disaster, but expecting comprehension and compassion would be asking too much of the creature. Besides, maybe he knew more than she did, details she could do without.
“Do you mind if I take your picture? It won’t be the first one, but you weren’t this close in the others.”
By way of response, if that’s what it was, the big male opened his eyes wider. Shaking a little, she placed the rifle on the ground and pulled her cell out of her pocket. He didn’t blink as she took several shots.
“Thank you,” she said once she’d replaced the phone and retrieved her weapon. “Thank you so very much. I just wish I understood why you’re hanging out here. Granted, Chinook is a pretty appealing—”
Where was her dog and how had she forgotten about her? She looked past the gray but couldn’t see anything. Besides, Chinook would have acknowledged her if she was nearby.
“I don’t suppose you’re hiding her.” She was only half-joking. “Seducing her with your charms.”
As she backed up and scanned the area for her dog, it occurred to her that she was letting the gray’s presence distract her from what Darick had said. He’d come within a few words of blaming her for the woman’s death. At least that’s how she’d taken it. She was willing to assume responsibility for what had happened to the chickens, but the other was a stretch, the way Darick’s mind worked.
When she spotted Chinook near her grandfather’s place, she gave silent thanks followed by turning around, but the gray was gone. Maybe she’d been wrong to dismiss the possibility that he was a ghost.
“Your boyfriend was here,” she told Chinook loud enough so her voice would carry. “I’m surprised and relieved you weren’t with him. Are you playing hard to get?”
Chinook loped toward her, ears flopping. People asked why she hadn’t had the Doberman’s ears cropped. It was simple. She wanted her dog to look the way nature intended.
“You’re full of energy today. Still a lot of puppy in you.” She fell silent as a thought occurred to her. “What do you think of sharing your turf with another dog? Not your suitor, but a part-hound with a scar around his neck?”
If Chinook had an opinion, she kept it to herself.
“Do you understand what’s happening?” Cradling the rifle, she started toward her place. Her grandfather had spent his life close to the earth, much of it working in the woods as a logger. These days, he led people interested in identifying the local flora and fauna into the wilderness. She’d gone on any number of those hikes with him. Sometimes she’d done so simply because she needed to get away from civilization. She’d show Grandpa the shots she’d taken of the gray and ask his opinion. He also needed to know how she’d become connected with the gray and his companions. Why hadn’t she already told him?
Because she’d let her own agenda take priority—that and seeing Darick Creech.
Darick who was right now aiming his private vehicle at her parking area.
While Chinook trotted over to the truck with her tail wagging, Niko stood with her rifle against her chest thinking nothing and everything. Maybe the gray had heard the vehicle approaching and decided to make himself scarce. If she’d known that, she might have asked the animal to take her with him. As she waited for Darick to open his door, she went over what she knew about the grays’ early years. What had the older man who’d raised them called them? Smoke was the female. There’d been two brothers, but one had been killed, which had left Gun to keep his sister company and help carry out their agenda.
Gun. From now on that’s what she’d call the animal that had become part of her world.
“What’s that for?” Darick indicated her rifle.
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to do anything with the information.”
“I can’t do that until I know what you’re talking about.”
“Then I’m not going to explain. What are you doing here?”
He extended an arm and let Chinook smell his hand. “It’s nearly five. The news will soon be on. I think we need to watch it together.”
He expected her to invite him into her place? “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Tired as she was of dealing with so many emotions, she had no defense against her sudden anger. Hadn’t Darick beaten up on her enough for one day? The man needed to be gone—even if he met Chinook’s approval.
“That’s not enough.” She could barely make her lips move. “I don’t need to listen to a reporter tell me what I already know.”
“You don’t know everything.”
Damn him for lowering his voice and making her aware of the weariness in his eyes. “Tell me.”
“The police have identified the woman.”
* * * *
Niko’s TV was a small flat-screen. Maybe she’d settled on that size because she seldom watched it. The picture would’ve been brighter if she’d blocked out some of the light, but his guess was that she was determined to keep the illusion of intimacy to as much of a minimum as possible. She’d put the rifle in the coat closet and pointed at the older of the two recliners in what he took to be an invitation for him to sit. Chinook had placed herself between them. Most of the dog’s attention was on him.
Niko not asking for details about the woman’s identity confused him. Maybe she was determined to limit what they said to each other. If so, that should have made things easier for him. It hadn’t.
Darn it, he should have worked out in his mind what he hoped to accomplish by coming to see her. Instead of doing that one vital thing and possibly talking himself out of the visit, he was keeping an eye on her while they waited for the advertisements to be over.
“There’s only one top story this evening,” the young female anchor said. “The wild dogs that were determined to be responsible for two deaths and a vicious attack several months ago have either returned or they never left. They’ve struck again.”
The anchor’s image faded to be replaced by a distant shot of where he’d been this morning. A male reporter on the scene explained that police had been called to the isolated residence by the county animal abuse investigator and a Fish and Wildlife officer who’d discovered the body of a deceased female.
“According to Detective Anders, who is in charge of the investigation, the death was extremely violent and strongly reminiscent of what happened to two hunters earlier in the year.” The man glanced at a small notepad he was holding. “The deceased is Cheryl Moyan. I was able to talk to her brother, who positively identified the body.”
Mouth sagging, Niko stared at him. “They let him see—?”
“I don’t know.”
“I hope to hell not.”
“According to the brother, his sister is estranged from her husband, who is the only one currently living on the proper
ty. The husband, James Moyan, was working out of town. He asked his wife to check on his animals. It appears that’s when she was attacked.”
The reporter made the point that police weren’t saying much about the investigation. In contrast, the brother, Lucky Walters, was certain his brother-in-law had had a hand in Cheryl’s death.
“He’s a bastard,” Lucky said onscreen. “I told Cheryl not to marry him. Now it’s too late. James had a dog I never trusted. I don’t think those grays had anything to do with what happened to Cheryl or those stupid chickens. It was that damn dangerous dog.”
Niko aimed the remote at the TV and hit mute. “Did you know this when you and I talked earlier?”
“No.”
“Seriously?”
He couldn’t blame her for not believing him. However, he’d give a great deal to know she trusted him. The why of that didn’t matter.
“Why would I only tell you part of the story? I knew nothing about the brother.” He pointed at the TV. “This is why I wanted to make sure we heard the first newscast together, so you wouldn’t think I was keeping anything from you.”
“Does she have children?”
“Two grown daughters living out of state. That’s one of the things I asked when Detective Anders called me.”
“At least she wasn’t still raising them.”
“Thank goodness. There’s something else, something I think we need to talk about.”
She turned off the TV. “All right.”
As he gave her his full attention, his respect for her grew. He’d admired her from the moment he’d understood what she’d done to try to save the two horses. Now, even though she couldn’t know what he was getting at, she wasn’t backing down.
“Cheryl wasn’t living there,” he said. “According to Lucky, she moved out about a month ago. Do you know what that means?”
“Tell me.”
Judging by how Chinook’s ears went up, her dog had caught her no-nonsense tone. “She might not have had anything to do with the condition you found the dog in. Lucky says that was the husband’s dog. The gray that killed her targeted the wrong person.”
Niko leaned forward, fell back, came upright again. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “And you’re saying I’d be wrong to defend Smoke’s action.”
“Smoke? How can you be sure it was the female?”
“I know, all right. Is that why you’re here? You’re waiting for me to admit, what, that Smoke’s puppies are vicious killers?”
“You tell me. Cheryl Moyan was there to feed and water the hound and chickens. She died for her efforts.”
When Niko’s head snapped back, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Of course she felt as if she was being attacked. Would he be saying what he was or thinking his thoughts if he hadn’t seen what was left of the poor woman?
If he wasn’t marked by what had happened the day he’d nearly lost his life?
“Let me put something to you.” Ice all but dripped from Niko’s voice. “Doc Beck said the hound had been wearing that cable for a long time, maybe all his life. Don’t tell me Cheryl didn’t know that. She saw that dog every day up until a month ago. What if she’d freed him? Taken him to the vet? She’d still be alive.”
Neither of them could say that with certainty, but, damn it, Niko was right. Why the hell hadn’t he put the pieces together before this?
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” He wanted to ask forgiveness. “You’re right. Cheryl had ample opportunity to change the hound’s life but she didn’t.”
She studied him for so long he became uncomfortable. His back was threatening to cramp, but he couldn’t put his mind to dealing with it.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “Maybe what she didn’t do wasn’t all that different from what I did.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The chickens.” She again flattened her fingers against her forehead. “If I hadn’t let them out, Lobo and Smoke’s puppies wouldn’t have, you know. Maybe tasting the chickens’ blood did something to the puppies and that’s why they went after Cheryl.”
“It happened. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
She chuckled without warmth. “Sure. No problem. So what happens now? The grays become public enemy number one? I don’t care what the brother said. The hound had nothing to do with what happened.”
“I don’t make that decision but—”
“But you’re part of making sure the decision is carried out.”
He wished he dared tell her that today he was seriously questioning his career, but if he did, she might pounce on his confession, just as he’d earlier blamed her. He hadn’t such a complicated relationship since—oh no, he wasn’t going there.
“One thing at a time,” he said. “Jeff and I’ll be meeting with local law enforcement tomorrow morning.”
“I want to be part of that meeting.”
“You can’t. Come on, you don’t really think anyone would let you—?”
“Of course not. All I did was set the wheels in motion by being the person the grays chose to rescue the horses. I let the chickens loose and freed the hound. Hell no, it isn’t as if I was personally involved.” She got to her feet and stalked to the window. “It isn’t as if I still am.”
“What are you talking about?”
She spun around, nearly losing her balance as she did, and stared at him again. A thousand emotions played out in her eyes, her anger fading and doubt coming to the forefront. He might’ve been deluding himself, but he thought there was something else, a need for peace between them. He wanted the same thing.
“I shouldn’t even be considering telling you this. I’ll probably regret it.”
But she was because there was no one else she could trust—either that or her information deeply concerned him. She kept changing before him, one minute strong and independent, the next, a solitary figure in need of his arms.
Arms he knew better than to give her.
“What do you want from me?” he asked. “A promise to keep what you’re debating saying to myself?”
“Yeah. Pretty much that. And even if you promise, I have to decide whether to believe you.”
“I’m black or white. Good or bad. Honest. Lousy at deception.”
“All right.” She sighed and leveled her gaze on him. “I hope I don’t live to regret this.”
It wasn’t until his head started pounding that he realized he was holding his breath. She took a long time returning to him, walking with a slow grace that put him in mind of a deer torn between curiosity and the instinct for survival. He’d thought he understood women as well as any man did, but that had been before today.
Before he’d met Niko Fox.
She dug into her front jeans pocket and extracted her cell phone. “I took those shortly before you showed up.” She handed the phone to him.
A huge gray. Looking as wild as the woman who’d captured the images. The pictures taken from only a few feet away. Canine eyes direct and non-judgmental, almost friendly.
“Gun,” she whispered. “He was just here. Maybe he still is.”
“What?”
“He was reaching out to me. Call me crazy if that’s what you have to do, but that’s how I see it. And today wasn’t the first time.”
“It wasn’t?” He sounded stupid.
“No. Chinook isn’t in heat so it isn’t that. Gun’s trying to tell me something, to reach me.”
Gun might not have killed Cheryl, but his sister and her offspring had. There was nothing mystical about the grays, nothing noble about what they’d done. He’d stood over what was left of a middle-aged woman so he knew what he was talking about.
“You’re in danger.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What makes you say that?” He handed the camera back to her. “I’m not going to ask you to forward the pictures to me. That way you don’t have to concern yourself with what I might d
o with them, but, Niko, the grays are killers. They—”
“Go after animal abusers.”
He shook his head and stood.
“Darick, they led me to a desperately sick mare and her helpless newborn.”
This wasn’t getting them anywhere. He needed to find a way out of the argument before they said things they’d always regret.
“What if I make you a promise? I won’t tell anyone about Gun being here if you agree not to trust him. Keep your rifle with you.”
“I’m not going to shoot him.”
A stand like that could get her killed, damn it. On the brink of spelling out that simple fact, he forced himself to face where he was coming from. His parents and siblings occasionally accused him of being hardwired to play white knight. Taking responsibility came naturally to him.
And that had nearly killed him.
“I don’t like this,” he said.
“You can’t force me to do what you want.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Don’t go looking for Gun, please.”
Her voice had dropped as she said ‘please’ because like it or not, in some respects she was at his mercy. He could let law enforcement know where they were likely to find Gun. The big dog was a killer. He probably would have attacked Cheryl if he hadn’t been here.
Was dangerous.
But was Niko in danger? That’s what he couldn’t answer. Besides, as she’d pointed out, without Gun and Smoke’s intervention, the mare and foal probably would have died.
“I can’t make a long-lasting promise,” he told her. “But for right now this is between the two of us.” He pointed at her cell phone.
Her lips trembled, the slightest of movements, a hint of how vulnerable she must’ve felt. “Thank you,” she said as she collapsed rather than sat.
He needed to leave, needed to try to straighten out his thinking, so why was he planting his hands on her armrest and leaning toward her? Instead of pushing him away, she looked up with those big deer eyes of hers.
Something was happening, a connection, deepness, vulnerability on both their parts, rubbed raw, electricity filling the air.