Never Cry Wolf

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Aiyyyooo…

  Fear…warning…desperation.

  She tried conveying all in that single howl. Heart pounding, she prayed for a response.

  “Please let me know you understand, you rigid jerk. Please!”

  Seconds later, her plea was rewarded. The howl was definitely Donovan’s.

  “Yes!”

  Thankfulness filled her.

  And then she realized what she had done.

  WHAT THE HELL was Laurel doing out in the woods when he’d told her to stay inside?

  Thankful he no longer needed snowshoes to get around, Donovan was already loping in her direction, but he estimated a mile separated them. The only way he could accurately hone in on her position was if they kept calling to one other.

  Dangerous, perhaps, but necessary.

  He kept his howl short and sharp this time. Hers was non-existent.

  Why wasn’t she answering?

  Because she couldn’t?

  He wouldn’t think that way. Nothing bad could happen to her. Not now. Not when he’d finally acknowledged what his heart already knew.

  Not when he hadn’t taken his chance to tell her how much he loved her.

  HIS PRESENCE surrounded her.

  He was out there.

  The imposter…Billy Barker…Will Bancroft.

  She’d beat them all.

  Having checked the traps with Donovan twice, Laurel had a pretty good feel for the lay of the land. Luckily, the moon had slid behind a cloud. She might not be able to see him, but neither could he see her.

  Silently, an invisible fist squeezing her chest, she raced across the slush for cover and almost reached a thick stand of cedar before a crack split the quiet and a whine winged past her ear.

  A bullet.

  Omigod!

  Hunting her again. This time with a rifle.

  But Will’s not being able to see her was to her advantage, Laurel decided. She should be able to lose him.

  Only she couldn’t.

  No matter how many twists and turns she took, how many zigs or zags, bullets followed.

  He was keeping up with her, must be able to hear her, because he certainly couldn’t see her in this dark, not from any distance. Not when she was barely able to see several feet in front of her nose.

  Ducking behind the cover of a felled tree, she stopped and cloaked her mouth with her jacket collar to muffle her breathing. She was already exhausted and felt as if she were carrying extra weight. A short rest would do her good.

  A minute went by.

  Then two.

  Just as she was feeling safe, another shot pinged so close to her head, she swore it parted her hair. The only reason Will kept missing was because he was so far away—and that far away, he shouldn’t be able to see or hear her.

  Then how could he know where she was?

  How?

  Only one explanation came to mind. He must be using a nightscope on his rifle. Which meant that as long as she was in the open, he’d be able to find her.

  Carefully backing off, quickly taking stock of her approximate location, Laurel thought and thought…and finally came up with a place to hide where he would never find her.

  HIS KILLING Laurel was inevitable now.

  The idea sickened him. The whole murder thing was a concept he’d never considered when he’d started out. He would regret her death the most, but all affected him. He even regretted the livestock, though they had been necessary sacrifices.

  Too late to go back and undo anything. His plan had snowballed out of his control.

  Why did fate always have to screw things up for him? The story of his life.

  His plan hadn’t started this way. No one was supposed to get hurt…not physically.

  Now he’d have to kill four of them, at least.

  What choice had they left him? Veronica knew who he was and so did Laurel. He’d been close enough to the cabin window to realize they’d put it together.

  As if sensing his escalating distress, his four-footed companion whined.

  “Good boy.” His hand shook as he bent to pat the muscle-solid side. “Take it easy. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. It’ll be over soon.”

  He would do what he had to.

  Self-preservation…every species possessed it.

  Making the adjustments necessary to pin Laurel’s current location, he went after her.

  IT HAD TO BE here somewhere. Laurel was on an incline, searching for the opening in the hillside. The idea might be crazy, but it was all she had. Once she was out of sight, Will wouldn’t be able to find her, not even with the aid of a nightscope.

  She was ahead of him—he hadn’t released a round for a few minutes—but if she didn’t find the entrance soon, Will was bound to catch up. Her search becoming frantic, she almost tripped right over it Stomach quavering, she dropped to her knees in the snowy mush and literally felt the lay of the land.

  The opening seemed big enough, but was she really brave enough to go through it?

  A little claustrophobic, her stomach doing a nervous dance, she hesitated.

  But what choice did she have?

  If the passage seemed too narrow, she could always back out. Besides, Donovan had told her about trappers going into dens to get pups—had even indicated she’d fit nicely.

  Getting down on her stomach, she poked her head inside. Then her shoulders. With barely enough room to rest her weight on her elbows, she slithered forward on her belly. Her breathing thickened and her stomach felt like a bunch of squirrels were running on a wheel.

  Entering the tunnel was psychologically the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  Not the hardest, she amended. Burying people she loved was a million times harder. And she’d survived that. Twice. By comparison, facing something that scared her was more in the area of a challenge.

  With that bracing thought in mind, she scooted forward, inches at a time, until all of her was inside the tunnel. Now she should be safe if not comfortable. There was no way to relax stretched out on stillfrozen ground, cold walls encircling her too close, something hard and lumpy pressing into her hip. What in the world was in her pocket? She tried adjusting but there wasn’t room enough where she was.

  The denning chamber would at least give her the ability to move around a bit.

  Already halfway there, she went the distance. The larger opening didn’t give her a whole lot of options, but at least it was a bit more comfortable.

  At last Laurel was able to relax a little. She unfolded herself from the cramped position and curled her legs to the side. She even breathed easier.

  Until a scrabbling sound told her she was not alone.

  She sucked herself back against the wall away from the other occupant. Unable to see a thing in the blackness of the den, she had to know for certain…

  Digging her little flashlight out of her pocket, she snapped it on and swept the other side of the chamber.

  Fierce yellow eyes glowed back at her.

  She was sharing the den with a wolf!

  Chapter Thirteen

  Heart thundering with fear for Laurel, Donovan listened to the forest, hushed but for his own quickened breath and light tread. No rounds of ammunition fired for several moments now. Even the wolves had grown silent, the strange cracks in the night undoubtedly forcing them to safe havens.

  Only wishing safety for the woman he loved, he kept on the same track.

  Guided by the sounds of rifle shots, he’d gotten close before they had ceased. He told himself Laurel had lost the intruder. That she remained unharmed.

  To believe otherwise would madden him with grief.

  Slowing to a momentary stop, he tried to discern anything that would pinpoint direction.

  But his own senses weren’t sharp enough.

  Closing his eyes, he silently beckoned to his animal spirit for help, and was rewarded by the hazy impressions gathering in his mind.

  Images wavering from side to side…the way a wolf
ran, head moving, gaze covering his territory…rugged, rocky terrain…a hillside…a gateway…

  Eyes flashing open and ending the shared vision, Donovan raced for Laurel’s very life.

  “LISTEN, GUY—or girl, pardon me for being sexist—I’m not going to hurt you, okay,” Laurel whispered.

  The wolf was cowed. Head down, ears flattened, muscles coiled tight, it lay unmoving.

  Familiar.

  She shone the narrow beam of her flashlight down toward the beast’s front paws. One was slightly larger than the other. Due to an extra toe?

  “Hopeful? Is that you?”

  The wolf gave her a look at once baleful and distrusting.

  “It is you,” she whispered, joyous for something. “Donovan will be so happy to know you’re alive and safe.”

  For now, anyway.

  Not that she would share that concern with the already frightened wolf.

  “I know you’re scared,” she continued, the sound of her own voice making her more comfortable sharing the small space with the cornered beast. “But I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to spread it around. So am I.”

  She’d gone around the bend, making deals with a wolf, but Laurel swore the fear slowly left his eyes and his muscles began to uncoil. She figured, in for a penny, in for a pound.

  “We’re in this together, you know. If either of us shows our face out there, we might get shot. But we’re safe here. We can wait all night if we have to.”

  Making a whimpering sound, the wolf crawled on his belly several inches toward her. If you talk to the animals they will talk to you and you will know them… Poor guy. She hoped she wasn’t steering him wrong.

  How would she know when it was safe to leave the den?

  She reclined on an elbow in his direction to meet him halfway. The lump in her pocket dug into her hip again.

  “What is that thing?”

  Laurel shifted so she could get at the annoying bulge. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled it free.

  “Uh-oh…”

  Heart falling, she glanced from it to Hopeful.

  No sooner did she whisper, “I hate to tell you this, buddy, but we’re in big trouble here,” than trouble arrived on their doorstep.

  “You might as well come out, Laurel,” he called through the tunnel. “I know you’re in the den.”

  Of course she recognized his voice.

  As if the wolf felt her rush of fear, Hopeful crawled closer until he was practically touching her. Looking into his trusting eyes, she refused to give Will the satisfaction of an answer. Let him come in here after her. Then it would be two against one.

  Her hand curled around the transmitter Will had placed in her jacket pocket, probably at the same time he’d set the trap in the bed. She’d been wearing Donovan’s borrowed parka at the time, and her own jacket had been hanging in plain sight.

  “Laurel!”

  She remained stubbornly silent.

  Suddenly, a shaft of light flooded the interior. She pressed into the chamber’s wall to make herself small.

  “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start shooting. I have nearly a full box of ammo.” He paused a second, then voice ominous, he started counting.

  “One…”

  Laurel knew he wasn’t bluffing. Chances were she’d be shot and Hopeful along with her.

  “Two…”

  She might not be able to save herself, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let the bastard shoot her wolf.

  “Wait! I’m coming.”

  At least face-to-face, she’d have a chance. Maybe she could talk him out of whatever he had planned.

  “Hurry up, then.”

  “You stay here,” she whispered. “Lay low until it’s over.”

  Hopeful softly whistled through his nose, not unlike a dog.

  “Thanks.”

  Laurel shot through the tunnel and out to the hillside, now partially illuminated by the moon struggling to free itself from the clouds. Rising, she faced the business end of a rifle. And her imposter.

  “Nice to see you again, Donovan,” she said tartly, ignoring the pounding of her own heart. She couldn’t help herself after so much misplaced concern. “How could you up and disappear on me like you did? Why didn’t you call?”

  “Cut the chatter. You know who I am.”

  “Yeah.” Slyly, she acted more restless than she might while furtively looking for some escape. “Now I know you’re Will Bancroft…and that you used me. Although I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”

  What she saw sitting a short distance away was a young dog, a rottweiler who gazed up at Will with devotion, guarding a mobile receiver and antenna.

  “I wasn’t using you, Laurel.”

  The rifle lowered slightly and so did his guard, she hoped.

  “Then why lie about your name?”

  “Impulse. I liked you right off. And you seemed to love wolves as much as I did. It was killing me not being able to work with them anymore. That’s why I was hanging around the workshop. To feel like I was still part of things. Anyway, I figured you might recognize my real name, especially if Rebecca said anything about my being there, so I gave you the first name that popped into my head.”

  Not having to pretend shock—that was about the last thing she’d expected to hear—she asked, “Are you telling me I wasn’t part of your master plan?”

  “You just happened.” The rifle dropped waist high. “I never wanted to hurt you. I fell in love with you. That’s why I asked you to marry me…and why I disappeared. I knew you had doubts without knowing the truth. I couldn’t go on with the charade any longer, but I didn’t want you turning on me, too. Why couldn’t you let it alone, Laurel? Why did you have to drag Raymond McKenna into it and start this whole mess?”

  Guilt made her shift uncomfortably, even as he put the blame on her shoulders, when he was the villain. And yet…his voice was rife with pain. She believed he did love her. If so, she might have a chance to stop him from doing any more harm to others…or to himself.

  “I was worried about you,” she explained. “Afraid something had happened to you.”

  “But you didn’t love me.”

  “I cared for you, Will. I care what happens to you now.”

  Even after all she’d been through, Laurel knew that was true. Will might be more troubled than she’d suspected, but he wasn’t a monster.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” he suddenly asked. “The real Donovan Wilde.”

  Recognizing jealousy when she heard it, Laurel figured this was one time that honesty wasn’t the best policy.

  “You think I love a rigid, bad-tempered throwback to the last century?” she hedged. “Or that I could get involved with another man so quickly after you? I thought you knew me better than that.” And while she was at it, she demanded, “Why do you hate him?”

  “He destroyed my life. Because of him, I’m a joke professionally.”

  Certain she saw a movement over his right shoulder, she asked, “What did he do to you?”

  “I was up for a tenure track position at the University of Wisconsin, but I had to publish my current study on wolf-moose encounters fast to impress the committee. I was short on data and didn’t have enough time to finish collecting what I needed…”

  Someone was behind him. With clouds clearing off the moon, she wasn’t kept wondering who. Heart racing, she tried keeping Will distracted.

  “So you borrowed data from Donovan’s study on wolf-deer encounters that he’d done years ago.”

  “I was desperate to get that position. Wolves are my life. Or they were. This was my big chance to make a difference for them, Laurel. You don’t know how hard it’s been for me to get as far as I did.”

  The dog scrambled to his feet, a low growl rumbling from his throat. Certain Will was warned, she held her breath.

  He continued, “When my ‘Predator Versus Prey’ article was published, Wilde recognized the similarities in my data and blew
the whistle on me.” He whipped around and pointed the rifle directly at Donovan, who was coming up behind him. “You destroyed my life.”

  Laurel couldn’t believe the man she loved walked right into the path of the gun. Her heart skipped a beat. What was wrong with him? He’d had the advantage and he’d blown it.

  “You destroyed your own life, Bancroft, when you decided to plagiarize me.”

  “Most of that work was mine! You made everyone think I hadn’t done any of it.”

  “You’re still guilty of plagiarism.”

  Using the rifle, Will waved Donovan over toward Laurel. The rottweiler now sat at alert and watched his master closely. Donovan stopped short, however, leaving several feet between them.

  “Why couldn’t you have left it alone, Laurel?” Will asked, sounding heartsick. “I even tried scaring you back to Chicago, but you wouldn’t go. Then everything got out of hand, just like it always has in my life. The court system. The foster homes. My career. Losing you. All I wanted was to get even with the man who ruined me. I wanted to make him look incompetent.”

  “Then why did you hurt my father?” Donovan asked.

  “He caught me spying on you. We got into an argument and he tried to hit me. Max here was only protecting me.”

  “That the dog you stole from Ham Gault?”

  “I didn’t steal him. I found him in the woods. He was lost and beat up and hungry. I took care of him is all. And Max thought he was taking care of me that night. I got him off McKenna, but I believed your father was dead, so I beat it. Took his car for a fast getaway. Then, when I read he survived, I knew he’d blame me if he ever came out of the coma. A man with that kind of power…he could arrange anything. My spending years in jail for something I didn’t do wasn’t fair.”

  “So you tried to kill him. And Laurel.”

  “You wouldn’t leave well enough alone,” he insisted, sounding as if he were at his wit’s end. “I only meant to stick around and finish what I started. To ruin you. But everything goes wrong for me. I couldn’t even get this nightscope to work right…”

  Laurel knew Will wasn’t a killer at heart. Maybe he’d even missed her on purpose. Like the omega wolf who lived at the edge of the pack, he’d never been able to get himself together to be accepted. Unfortunately, he’d finally gone out of control.