Then they all had to get themselves back to Dooley’s General Store without anyone besides Earl knowing that Roarke had not been alone on this trip. That would be tricky, but as he ran, Roarke considered the possibilities.
Donald was the first order of business. Roarke had revised the plan concerning Donald. Instead of mentioning information about a Bigfoot sighting in another part of the forest, Roarke would mention a Bigfoot mauling near Portland. Lots of blood. Suspicion that the Sasquatch were on a rampage. That might spur Donald to get the hell out of the forest, and quickly.
He hoped they would all move more quickly, too, since the packs would be lighter after they’d eaten a lot of the food. If Roarke carried everything of Abby’s, they could make it in one long day. Abby would have to stage a miraculous recovery, but if Donald was spooked, maybe he wouldn’t question her ability to hike.
Abby might have some other ideas, maybe even some better ideas, which was another good reason to get back before Donald woke up. Abby and Roarke could brainstorm their next plan of action. Yeah, right. As if they’d spend their time together brainstorming.
Still, they could have time to talk after they’d rolled around on Abby’s sleeping bag for a while. Roarke put on a burst of speed as he caught Abby’s scent on the breeze. Not far, now. He’d have to circle the camp and retrieve his clothes, damn it.
He calculated whether he dared stop short of the clearing, shift, and then crawl naked into her tent. That would save some time, and if he could manage to return to his tent unnoticed by Donald, he could dress in the clothes he’d left there. No, too risky.
All he needed was for Donald to suspect he’d been lied to and the whole program would be jeopardized. Keeping Donald in the dark was . . . Roarke paused as another scent drifted toward him, a scent he would have caught immediately if he hadn’t been so focused on Abby. Were.
His hackles rose as he crept forward, using the trees for cover as he neared the campsite. The clearing was empty. No tents, no cookstove . . . no Abby.
Her scent still clung to the area, but Abby, the producer of that lovely fragrance, was gone. Gone. Frantic with worry, he raced around the camp looking for clues as to what had happened, although in his heart he knew.
A stray tent stake showed that the camp had been dismantled in a hurry. The Were scent was stronger by the flattened grass, but the wolves were no longer there, either. Dread clawed at his chest. This had to be Cameron’s work.
A breeze ruffled his fur and he caught a movement to his right. A piece of paper fluttered under a rock. Running to it, he nudged the rock away with his nose and placed a paw on the corner of the paper to hold it in place. Something was written on it, but clouds covered the moon, leaving him with very little light. He strained to read the message, pushing it this way and that.
And then the moon broke through the clouds.
My dear Wallace—
I trust you’ve taken care of the business we agreed upon. However, I’m puzzled by your decision to bring Abby Winchell on this assignment, and she’s unwilling to discuss it. The other member of your party seems to be an accidental addition, but according to Earl himself, you chose to take his granddaughter.
She and I, along with the engineer, have returned to the estate. Perhaps she’ll be more talkative there.
Regards,
Cameron
So that had been Cameron’s helicopter he’d heard. Rending the note into small bits with his teeth, he allowed the scraps to blow away. The contents were burned forever into his brain, anyway.
He had clothes hidden in the woods, but his wolf shape would serve him better than his human form now. Leaving the clearing, he ran, his body stretched out, his belly low to the ground. He’d vowed to protect her, and he would do that with his last breath.
Abby had never been inside the Gentry mansion and she would have been happy to forgo the experience, but Cameron’s goons propelled her under the whirling blades of the helicopter and up the steps of a side entrance, into a marble hallway. Cabinets on either side contained all sorts of sporting equipment, from snowshoes to hockey sticks. She supposed this was the wealthy family’s version of a mudroom.
Behind her, she could hear Donald’s ragged breathing. All during the helicopter ride he’d tried to explain that he was an important personage in the Sony Corporation and they’d better let him go because high-placed executives would be looking for him soon. No one in the helicopter had responded.
“It’ll be okay, Donald,” she said over her shoulder. She thought it would be for him, once they realized he didn’t know anything. But Cameron sensed that she did, and that wasn’t going to help her cause any.
After following a maze of deserted hallways, a course that Abby was convinced Cameron had designed to make escape more difficult, her host opened tall double doors and ushered them all into a room lined with bookshelves and dominated by a large ornate wooden desk.
“You can let them go now,” Cameron told his henchmen. “I want two of you outside the door at all times.”
The men nodded and left, closing the door behind them.
Abby rubbed her arm where the werewolf had been gripping it. She’d have bruises, but that might be the least of her worries.
Cameron gestured toward two leather armchairs in front of the massive desk. “You may each take a seat.”
Abby remained standing. “I don’t care to sit. I demand that you take me back to my grandfather’s place. This is an unconscionable violation of my rights as a citizen of the United States of America.”
“And I demand to be set free, as well.” Donald’s mouth quivered, but he kept his shoulders back and his gaze steady. “I promise you that you’ll regret detaining me against my will.”
Go, Donald. Abby admired his courage, something she couldn’t have predicted when she’d first met him. “I also hope you have good insurance,” Abby added, “because I plan to sue you for the bruises I’ve sustained at the hands of your employees, and I’ll tack on a hefty amount for pain and suffering, too.”
Cameron walked behind his desk and settled into his burgundy leather desk chair. “Suit yourselves. But you should both know that I’m the wealthiest man in Portland, and I contribute heavily to every civic charity in this fair city, including any and all that support the police department. It’s a long-standing Gentry tradition.”
Abby folded her arms. “Why don’t you call them what they are, Cameron—bribes.”
“They certainly are not. They’re legitimate donations reported to the IRS. I’m a responsible citizen who loves his native town. Plenty of high-placed officials will step forward to vouch for me, especially when I tell them I caught the two of you breaking and entering.”
“Oh, yeah?” Donald moved toward the desk. “No one would believe that.”
“Of course they’d believe that.” Cameron gazed up at him. “I have a house full of fine art and precious antiques. Everyone knows about the Gentry collection. You’re a stranger around here, and Abby’s the granddaughter of a Bigfoot nut. Neither of you would have any credibility compared to me.”
“I don’t get it,” Donald said. “Why are you harassing Abby and me and trying to get us in trouble for something we obviously didn’t do?”
“I don’t intend to explain myself to you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to just stand here and take this crap. I’ve figured out that Abby and Roarke aren’t actually married, but why does that matter to you? So they’re having sex without the benefit of marriage. Lots of people do that these days. It’s not a crime.”
Abby glanced at him. “Thanks, Donald. I appreciate that, considering that Roarke and I weren’t completely truthful with you.”
“Hey, Abby, it’s okay. It’s your business.”
Cameron cleared his throat. “If I may interrupt this lovely display of solidarity, I’d like to interject that I appreciate your candor, Donald. I suspected that Abby and Wallace were sexually involved, but thanks to you, that’s a
confirmed fact.”
Donald looked horrified. “Don’t take my word for it! I wasn’t exactly there, you know? Maybe they weren’t having sex at all! I mean, unless a person actually witnesses the horizontal mambo, they can’t be sure that it really took place, now, can they?”
Cameron smiled. “In this case, I think they can.”
“Sorry, Abby.” Donald hung his head. “But I still don’t know why this has anything to do with the price of beans.”
“It may not,” Cameron said, “but I like to gather all the information I can. I’m convinced you’ve told me everything you know, Donald, so I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”
Donald squared his shoulders. “I don’t deal with terrorists.”
Cameron, the arrogant bastard, laughed at that. Abby would have loved to punch him in the nose, but the satisfaction of that probably would be short-lived. She thought about the note Cameron had left and knew that once Roarke had read it, he’d come to the rescue.
Exactly how he’d effect a rescue was still hazy in her mind, but until Roarke showed up, she planned to hold the line with Cameron Gentry. Donald was welcome to cave, though. She wouldn’t blame him at all for doing that. He had nothing at stake here.
“So you don’t want to hear my offer?” Cameron asked him.
“Not particularly.”
“Well, I’ll make it anyway, because I can see you’re a discerning man and I want to present you with all the options.”
Abby thought Donald would react well to the flattery, but instead he sniffed in disdain. Her respect for the tubby engineer grew. Depending on how this all worked out, she’d like to keep in touch with Donald Smurtz. He had hidden depths.
“Here’s my proposition,” Cameron said. “I have no quarrel with you. You stumbled upon Abby and Roarke by accident, so—”
“Or maybe it was fate,” Donald said.
“That’s for you to decide, but if you’d like to walk out the front door and get on with your life, I have only one request. That you won’t speak of this incident to anyone, ever. If you wonder how I’d know if you did, let me assure you that I, too, have contacts in the Sony Corporation.”
Donald took several deep breaths.
“You should take that deal,” Abby said. “You didn’t ask to be part of this craziness. Just put it behind you and move on.”
Donald shook his head. “I can’t. I promised Roarke I’d watch out for you. So I’m not leaving.”
“It’s okay!” Abby was desperate to get an innocent bystander out of the line of fire. “Roarke meant for you to watch out for bears and stuff. He didn’t mean you should defend me from crazy rich guys.” Abby sent a searing glance in Cameron’s direction when she said that.
“I know,” Donald said. “But I can’t help thinking he would want me to stick around.”
“Suit yourself.” Cameron raised his voice. “Samuel! Colin!”
Two of the men from the helicopter came through the door immediately.
“Show this gentleman to his room. And see that he does not leave it.”
“Hey!” Donald tried to resist, but he was no match for those two. “Abby, I wasn’t going to leave you! I wanted to stay with you and make sure you’d be okay!” “I’ll be fine.” She gave him a reassuring smile as he was practically dragged from the room. “Take care of yourself, Donald!”
Once he was gone, Cameron gestured to the armchairs in front of his desk. “Now will you sit down, Miss Winchell?”
“All right.” She chose the armchair on the right, because it was closest to the door. She didn’t give herself much chance of escaping through that door, but if the opportunity presented itself, she wanted to be ready.
“May I offer you a glass of wine?”
Said the spider to the fly. “No, thank you.”
“I’ll have some, if you don’t mind. It’s been a trying few hours.”
“Go right ahead.” Maybe she could coax him to get drunk. That would have distinct advantages.
He left his desk chair and moved to a sideboard where he uncorked a bottle and poured red liquid into a crystal goblet. “Fortunately my wife and two children are away visiting relatives in San Francisco, so they were spared this nasty business.” Returning to his desk, he set the wine on a coaster.
“It doesn’t have to be nasty, Cameron.” She reconsidered her strategy. “Maybe I will have some of that wine, after all.”
“Excellent.” He returned to the sideboard and poured a second glass. “I have a cellar full of French wines, but I’m old-fashioned. I prefer the local Willamette Valley wines. Besides, I have investments there.”
She didn’t doubt it. He was proud of his wealth and his standing in the community. She’d do better if she catered to that instead of fighting him.
“Is this from one of your vineyards, then?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
She sipped the wine. “It’s very good.”
He looked pleased. “Do you come up here often to visit Earl?”
“I did as a child. But as an adult, I haven’t spent nearly as much time here. I regret that.”
“Have we met?”
“Not officially.”
“I didn’t think so. I would have remembered you.”
No, he wouldn’t, but she wasn’t about to correct him.
“Your family and the Dooleys have been neighbors for a very long time.”
“Yes.” Draining his glass, he walked over to refill it. “Too long. It’s time for your grandfather to sell.”
She pretended to sip her wine, but she wasn’t about to drink much of it. “Here’s the interesting part, Cameron. He might have done that if you’d allowed him his moment of glory with the Sasquatch.”
“Excuse me?”
“All he wanted was to go out with a bang. Sighting that mated pair would have allowed him to do that, after a lifetime of searching in vain. And then you brought Roarke in to ruin it. Grandpa Earl dug in his heels.”
Cameron rested his forearms on his desk and stared at her. “I’ll be damned.”
“If you would allow Roarke to confirm that my grandfather saw something out there instead of insisting it was only hikers, I might be able to convince him to sell. Maybe not to you, but—”
“I can create a dummy corporation to buy it. That’s not an obstacle. It could all be so simple, except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You, Abby Winchell.”
“I’m nothing, a cog in the wheel, a person trying to make this come out okay for my grandfather.”
“Ah, Abby, you are also a person trying to pull the wool over my eyes, and I can’t let you do that.”
Her heart beat faster. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. Now tell me how you convinced Roarke to let you go along to look for the Sasquatch.”
“I told you why. He was feeling guilty about Grandpa Earl, so I convinced him to take me in Grandpa Earl’s place.”
Cameron looked at her over the rim of his crystal goblet. “This was a top-secret operation, and no matter how guilty Roarke felt about discrediting your grandfather, he wouldn’t have been eager to take anyone with him unless he had no choice. I want to know what leverage you used to make him agree to take you, Abby.”
“I had no special leverage.” She wondered how long it would take for Roarke to get there. Yes, they’d hiked for two days, but not steadily, and in wolf form Roarke would move much faster.
Still, she couldn’t reasonably expect him anytime soon. Once he arrived, Roarke would corroborate her story because he was as dedicated to keeping Cameron in the dark as she was. Maybe he could convince Cameron, werewolf to werewolf, that she was no threat to the Were community.
“I believe you did have leverage,” Cameron said. “And that information happens to be critical to me. I’m afraid I can’t let you leave this house until I find out what I need to know.”
Abby met his cold gaze as if what he’d said made
no difference to her whatsoever, even though her stomach churned. “Surely you’ll give me a place to sleep. It’s been a long night.” Yes, this place looked like a fortress, but left to her own devices, she might figure out a way to escape.
“That would be the hospitable thing to do, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling hospitable right now. You and I are going to sit here until you decide to tell me the truth.”
She lifted her chin. “Will you bring out the thumbscrews, then?”
He smiled. “I hardly think that will be necessary. My goodness, you’ve barely touched your wine.”
She leaned forward and set her glass on his desk. With luck it would leave a ring. “You know, it’s amazing how quickly a good glass of wine can turn to vinegar.”
Chapter 21
By the time Roarke came in sight of the mansion, his paws were bloody and every breath brought a stab of white-hot pain. He disregarded both problems. Unless Gentry had misdirected him, Abby was in there, being held prisoner.
He spotted a sentry in human form at the entrance to the wolf tunnel. The sentry appeared to be unarmed, but Weres seldom openly displayed a weapon, even if they were carrying one.
Roarke wondered if the sentry would try to prevent him from going through that tunnel. If so, Roarke would have to take him out, and he could do that more effectively as a wolf. He trotted closer, mentally preparing to attack if necessary.
Then he noticed a Bluetooth attached to the sentry’s ear and heard the man say something to whoever was on the other end of the connection. Obviously the sentry had been posted to sound the alarm, not prevent Roarke from entering. That made sense. Gentry had left a note inviting Roarke to come after Abby, so barring the door would serve no purpose.
Roarke pushed at the revolving tunnel door, leaving a bloody print on the stone as he entered the system of passageways that led to each of the mansion’s bedrooms. Exhausted though he was, Roarke traversed every tunnel and climbed every stone stairway, leaving bloody tracks as he went.
Werewolf in the North Woods: A Wild About You Novel Page 21