by Teri Wilson
He was an abysmal failure as a stalker.
That was his problem, not hers, wasn’t it? She pushed herself off the rock and headed to the cabin. Today was enrichment day on the wolves’ schedule, so she had a little something special planned for them.
Wolves in the wild faced constant physical and mental challenges. From foraging for food, seeking out prey and avoiding hunters, to finding a mate and caring for a litter of pups, a wolf in its natural environment encountered stimulation at every turn. These beautiful animals were shaped by the world around them. Those that thrived survived.
Obviously, life for a rescue wolf living in captivity was vastly different from the daily struggle of surviving in the wild. Without the constant stimulation of their natural environment, wolves could become stressed. And stress could lead to harmful behaviors, such as pacing, illness, self-mutilation and even aggression. Piper was constantly coming up with new, innovative ways to keep her pack challenged, happy and smart. And today that particular task involved over one hundred fifty chicken broth ice cubes.
She opened her freezer and an ice tray came flying out. She caught it before it fell on her foot. A broken toe was all she needed to make this day complete.
Maybe she’d gotten a little overzealous with the wolf Popsicles. She’d gone through almost five gallons of chicken broth the night before. Enrichment was one of her favorite parts of her job, and every one of her wolves loved ice cubes. Even more so if they tasted like chicken.
She dumped a few trays’ worth of ice cubes in a bucket and headed back outside. Much to her irritation, her heart gave a little pang when she still failed to spot Ethan’s truck in the drive. Or anywhere in the vicinity.
She didn’t miss him or anything. That would have been pathetic. He should be here for enrichment, though. It would give him something new and different to write in his column. Piper would have loved to read an article about her wolves playing with ice cubes rather than what dangerous, bloodthirsty predators they were.
She tossed a few chicken cubes over the fence of Tundra’s enclosure. The white wolf leaped for them, twisting midair with the grace and elegance of a dancer. Tundra’s teeth snapped shut with an audible bite. Then she landed on all fours, shook her woolly head and tossed the cube she’d caught back in the air. Piper smiled, watching her play, until she finally settled down in a white ball of fur on the snow with an ice cube between her front paws.
“Enjoy it, girl,” Piper whispered as Tundra licked the cube with delicate swipes of her pink tongue.
By the time Piper got to the next pen, Shasta was prancing back and forth at the fence line with his ears pricked forward and his mouth open in a wide, wolfish grin. Shasta was never as polite as Tundra with his enrichment activities. He slammed against the fence on his back legs, gaze fixed on Piper’s bucket. She pitched six chicken-broth ice cubes over the fence in rapid succession, all of which he somehow managed to catch. Shasta liked to swallow things whole. Ice cubes. Meat. Stray mittens on occasion.
“Goofball.” Piper shook her head, grin fading. “Ethan doesn’t know what he’s missing, does he?”
Where was he, anyway? At least an hour had passed since she’d left Posy’s ballet school. As pleasant as it was to be able to go about her business without him watching her every move, his absence was troublesome. It bothered her far more than it should have.
I’m just concerned for his safety. That’s all. His car could have broken down.
Concerned for his safety. Right.
Ethan didn’t want, or need, her concern. He had a cell phone. If that SUV where he liked to sleep so much had broken down, he could have called for help.
Unless he’s been injured.
Piper hugged her empty bucket closer to her chest as she marched through the snowdrifts back toward the cabin. The snow was really coming down now, much thicker than earlier in the day. The curvy mountain road leading to the sanctuary had surely iced over, and it was typically one of the last streets in the city that road crews reached with salt and deicing chemicals. A car could slide clear off the mountain and no one would ever know.
She paused in front of her freezer again. What if something had happened? What if Ethan had indeed slid clear off the mountain?
Surely not.
She flung the freezer door open, even angrier with Ethan than usual. Which was pretty angry. How dare he make her worry like this? Didn’t he know it was rude to announce his intention to stalk someone and then vanish off the face of the planet?
She reached for her cell phone and dialed Ethan’s number while the air from the freezer cooled her face. She’d explain to him just how inconsiderate he was acting as soon as he answered.
But he didn’t answer. The phone rang and rang, then went to voice mail. Piper didn’t leave a message because, really, what could she say? Where are you? Right. And sound like a worried girlfriend, when that couldn’t be further from the truth? No, thank you.
She pocketed her phone and went back to work, emptying ice trays into the bucket. She didn’t have time to worry about Ethan’s whereabouts. Didn’t he know she had wolves to entertain?
She couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong, though. So when she’d filled the bucket, she tried his cell phone one more time.
Again, no answer.
Maybe it was time to call his editor. No, she couldn’t. Ethan had already gotten in trouble with Lou for not knowing about her involvement with Posy’s dance recital. Piper would not be directly responsible for Ethan losing his job. As much as she wanted him to stop insulting her life’s work in the newspaper, getting him fired wasn’t how she wanted things to end.
She slammed the freezer door, and her gaze landed on Tate Hudson’s business card anchored to the brushed chrome with a magnet. Ethan had given it to her after the graffiti incident, with strict instructions to call if anything seemed amiss. Something seemed amiss, all right. Besides, Ethan and Tate were friends. They were probably living it up at the Northern Lights Inn coffee bar right that very minute.
Before she could change her mind, she dialed the number on the card.
“Tate Hudson.”
This had seemed like a much better idea before he’d answered the phone. Maybe she should just hang up. But wait. He was a state trooper. Wouldn’t he know exactly who’d hung up on him?
It was too late to back out now. She took a deep breath. “Hello, Tate. This is Piper from the wolf sanctuary.”
“I hope everything is okay out there,” he said, his professional tone laced with concern.
“I’m fine. The wolves are fine. No problem at all, except...” Gosh, this was humiliating. “Ethan.”
“Ethan?” Tate laughed. “What’s he done to upset you this time? It must be something really bad for you to call law enforcement.”
“Funny.” She rolled her eyes. The feud between her and Ethan was destined to go down in history, at least in the state of Alaska. “It’s not like that. Listen, I’m not trying to alarm anyone unnecessarily. I know you and Ethan are friends, and it seems he’s gone missing.”
“Missing?”
“Yes.” She gave him a rundown of the morning’s events, assured him that, yes, she’d tried Ethan’s cell phone and, no, he hadn’t answered.
Tate promised to look into things. She hung up and reassured herself that she’d done the right thing. At least now she could continue enrichment with the wolves with a modicum of peace of mind.
Bucket in hand, she headed toward the cabin door. But just as she reached for the knob, a loud thump from outside shook the door in its frame.
Heart pounding, Piper took a giant backward step. She blew out a breath. “Ethan, you just about frightened me to death.”
She knew he hadn’t driven off the side of the mountain. He was too annoying to disappear entirely. She swung the door open, fully prepared to chastise him for worrying her enough that she’d called Tate and then for beating on her door like a caveman.
But Ethan wasn
’t the one standing on her front porch. Not even close.
Chapter Ten
Ethan tossed the last of his belongings into his duffel bag and zipped it closed. It felt as if a century had passed since he’d slept in his own bed. Now that he’d made the decision to quit his column, he couldn’t wait to check out of the Northern Lights Inn. If he did so fast enough, he’d save the newspaper the cost of another night’s stay.
Not that it mattered. Once Lou got wind of the fact that he’d walked away from the assignment, Ethan was sure to be out of a job. He’d had his chance, and he’d blown it. He’d broken the cardinal rule of journalism. He’d failed to maintain his objectivity. Worse than that, he’d become personally involved. With the woman as much as the story.
At least he’d managed not to kiss her.
He stood for a moment, thoughts snagged on the notion of kissing Piper Quinn, until someone knocked on the door to his room.
“Ethan, you in there? Open up. It’s Tate.”
What now?
Ethan reached for the door and swung it open. “Sorry, but I’m not really in the mood for visitors.”
“I’m not visiting. I’m here on business.” Tate’s hand rested casually on the radio in his holster as if to emphasize his point.
Ethan’s brow furrowed. “What kind of business?”
“Missing person business.”
A missing person? In Aurora? The one time someone had been reported missing in town it had been a retired fisherman who’d wandered away one late summer morning from his room at the assisted living facility. Tate had located him less than an hour later on the banks of the river, fishing pole in hand and picnic basket at his feet.
“Who’s missing?” Ethan asked.
“You are.”
“No, I’m not. I’m standing right here.”
“I see that. Listen, you may want to call your boss.”
“Lou?” Ethan hadn’t even had a chance to quit yet, and already Lou was hunting him down? Not a good sign. At all. “How does he know I’m not at the wolf sanctuary?”
“Not Lou.” Tate shook his head. “Piper. She called the station and reported you missing.”
“What?” Unbelievable.
Tate sank into the hotel room’s lone armchair. “Yep. And might I add that it’s the first time anyone’s called in because they were worried about their ‘stalker.’”
“I was not stalking her. I was doing my job.”
“Was doing your job?” Tate frowned. “What’s exactly going on here, friend?”
Ethan blew out a breath. “Nothing. I’m quitting. That’s all.”
“You’re quitting your job? Does this mean you got the position at the paper in Seattle?”
Did they have to do this right now? Ethan had never been less in the mood for a heart-to-heart. “Not my job. Just my column. And Lou doesn’t know I’m giving it up yet, so I’d be grateful if you could keep a lid on it.”
“You’re quitting your column? The one on the front page of the newspaper?” Tate shook his head. “I was less worried when I thought you were a missing person who’d also been accused of stalking.”
“I’m fine. It just got...”
Tate raised his brows.
“...personal.” Ethan picked up the duffel bag and hauled it onto his shoulder. “And that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
Tate stood. “Okay. But give Piper a call, would you? So she knows you’re alive and well.”
Alive and well.
Ethan didn’t feel either.
“Fine.” Piper deserved an explanation, and the news would probably be better coming from him than from Lou.
She’d be hurt. And angry. But she’d have to agree that this was better for both of them. Maybe Lou would keep the column going. Maybe he’d send another reporter to the sanctuary, one more sympathetic to her cause. That’s what she’d wanted all along. She’d definitely be happier if someone different was assigned to the story.
The idea didn’t sit well with Ethan.
Before he could process a feeling that felt altogether too much like jealousy, the portable radio in Tate’s holster buzzed to life.
“Dispatch to Captain Hudson. Nine-one-one. Are you in? Over.”
“What now?” Tate shot a worried glance at Ethan and reached for the radio. “This is Hudson. Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a possible hostage situation just outside the town limits. Repeat, a possible hostage situation. Over.”
A hostage situation?
Aurora had never experienced anything remotely as dangerous as a hostage crisis. Surely there’d been a mistake. Some kind of misunderstanding.
Ethan tossed his duffel on the bed. He’d follow Tate to wherever the thing was going down. Maybe he’d get a big enough scoop for the newspaper that Lou would keep him onboard.
“I copy. On my way. What’s the 20?” Tate was already out the door, halfway down the hall, before he even knew where he was headed.
Ethan matched his stride, step for step. Everything was happening in a blurry rush of alarm.
Then the dispatcher spoke again, and the world came to a screeching halt. “One-eleven Chugach Scenic Road. Do you copy?”
Piper’s address.
Tate barked something into the radio, but Ethan didn’t make out the words. His head buzzed with white noise. Sickness rose to the back of his throat.
How had this happened?
He should have been there. He was supposed to be there right now. Was this some kind of cosmic joke? He couldn’t be responsible for losing someone. Not again.
And not Piper.
“Ethan!” Tate snapped.
Ethan had almost forgotten Tate was even there. He’d been concentrating on nothing but running. Moving. Getting to Piper as fast as he could. Before it was too late.
They pushed through the revolving door of the inn, out into the snow and cold. Ethan’s SUV was parked close by, but Tate rapped on the hood of the police cruiser that occupied the spot nearest the hotel.
“Get in. You can ride in the squad car with me.”
Ethan swung open the door and climbed into the passenger seat. Tate pulled out of the parking space, sirens blaring, before Ethan even had his seat belt buckled.
He was grateful for the ride, grateful for Tate’s siren and flashing red lights. But the wolf sanctuary was halfway up the mountain, a fact that had nagged at Ethan since the moment he’d first set foot on Piper’s property. The trip up the mountainous winding road would take a minimum of fifteen minutes, regardless of how fast Tate drove or how loud his sirens blared. It was a simple matter of physics. And that was the absolute best-case scenario. Ethan didn’t want to contemplate the worst.
A lot could happen in fifteen minutes. A life could be lost in half as much time.
The bear attack had occurred in under six minutes. He’d made a call on his radio at 7:02 p.m., the moment he’d spotted the missing girl. By 7:08 p.m., she was gone. Those had been the longest six minutes of Ethan’s life. Until now.
Tate handed Ethan his cell phone. “Why don’t you dial Dispatch on speaker, and see if they can give us any additional information?”
Ethan had the dispatch officer on the line in less than ten seconds. “Tate? Are you on your way up to the wolf sanctuary?”
“Yes, and I’ve got Ethan here with me.” The tires screeched as he maneuvered the car around a bend in the road. “Can you give us a rundown of the call?”
“Sure. Piper called in and asked for you at exactly 10:28 a.m.” Ten minutes ago. Ethan closed his eyes, but all he could see was the word Killers painted on the side of her cabin. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, but could no longer seem to see anything else. How could he have left her there alone? She’d been threatened, and he’d turned his back on the vow he’d made to himself to keep her safe.
The dispatcher continued. “She asked for you, Tate, and said she was trapped inside her cabin because someone was holding her hostage. She mentioned a name
, but it was unintelligible. When I asked her to repeat it, the line went dead. I’ve tried calling back multiple times, but her number goes straight to voice mail.”
Ethan and Tate exchanged a glance. This didn’t sound good. Not at all.
“The strange thing about the call was how calm she sounded. Very composed in light of the circumstances.”
Ethan wished he could take solace in this news, but he couldn’t. Every one of Piper’s wolves outweighed her, and she let them crawl all over her every day. Sometimes he wondered if the woman had the good sense to know when to be afraid.
Tate gunned the accelerator as the cruiser headed up a steep incline. “Thanks. We’re turning off the main road and should be there in an under a minute. Send for backup if you haven’t already.”
“All cars are already en route.”
“Excellent.” Tate nodded, and Ethan ended the call.
Every state trooper in the vicinity was on his or her way to Piper’s property. Outside the police cruiser, the snow was coming down so thick and white that it looked like the end of the world was at hand. This wasn’t a nightmare. It wasn’t a product of Ethan’s overactive imagination. This was real.
God, not again. Please not again.
He would have promised everything. Anything. Just please not again.
* * *
“Seriously? You’re just going to stand there in my doorway and keep me trapped in here?” Piper sighed.
She was beginning to warm up to her captor. Sure, she’d been startled at first. Maybe even a little afraid. But once she’d had a chance to catch her breath and assess the situation, she realized he wasn’t so bad. He was actually kinda cute.
In a Rudolph sort of way.
“So you’re the infamous Palmer.” She inched closer to the massive reindeer looming in the entryway to her cabin. When she’d opened the front door, oblivious to what waited for her on the other side, he’d taken the liberty of walking right up to her. Apparently, he was an in-your-face sort of reindeer. Now here he stood, halfway in and halfway out of her home. He’d nearly toppled the vase of flowers that Caleb had picked for her.