by Terry Spear
That's when the blue lights on the grill of the vehicle behind her flashed, and her worst fears were realized. She was in a hell of a lot of hot water.
"Hell," Sarge said. "What were you doing that you got the cops on our tail? I should have been driving."
"Just be quiet and let me do the talking," she calmly said, but her voice had bite, and if he said another thing...
She slowed down and pulled off onto the shoulder, but she kept her foot on the brake due to the slight decline in the hill. The mini-SUV stopped some distance behind her, but no one got out of the vehicle. Her palms grew sweaty as she clutched the steering wheel. He had to be calling in the plates, maybe checking with Leidolf to see if she'd stolen the Jag if he was suspicious of her driving. She knew she should have been driving faster.
So what would Leidolf say? If the guy wasn't a lupus garou, Leidolf probably wouldn't have her arrested. Or maybe he would.
Pack leaders whose pack members tested them could be totally unpredictable, even if she wasn't one of his members. Sarge could be another real problem. She didn't trust him to keep his mouth shut in front of the police officer.
The vehicle behind her continued to idle. Come on, come on. Get it over with. She slipped her foot off the brake, and the car rolled forward, but then she figured he might think she would try to make a break. She would, but not the way he probably would expect. Maybe nothing would happen. He'd say, 'Hi, false alarm,' and let her go on her way. Fat chance.
"What's he doing now?" Sarge asked.
"Just sitting in his car. Probably checking the license plate to see who owns it and if anyone has reported it stolen. If the guy is a lupus garou, he'll just 'arrest' us, so to speak. If he's not, Leidolf might have enough influence to have the guy detain us until he gets here. Either way, it's not good."
She applied the brake again and tapped her other foot on the floor. Come on, come. Do something.
"Make a run for it. The Jag's got to be fast enough that we could outrun his vehicle."
She gave him a get-real look. As noticeable as the car was, even if they could outrun the police vehicle, helicopters would soon see the yellow Jag anywhere along the winding, hilly road.
Maybe the officer had contacted Leidolf and was waiting for him to arrive to confiscate his vehicle and her and Sarge. She just hoped the officer would hurry up and greet her at the Jag. Then she'd make her move.
* * *
Leidolf hadn't gotten far down the road when his cell phone rang. Jerking it off his belt, he flipped it open and recognized the sheriff's number. Good news hopefully. "Yeah, Sheriff?"
"Mr. Wildhaven, I stopped a Jag that was driving slower than normal, brakes kept being applied, and the vehicle was weaving a bit. So I ran the license plates and found it was yours. We didn't have any others in the area, and you said you never drive it, so I just wanted to make sure the Jag hadn't been stolen."
Thank God for small miracles. Donating to the local sheriff's department, which didn't have a lupus garou on staff, sure had gotten his butt out of a sling a few times. Not his exactly, but a couple of his pack members' rather.
"Thanks, Sheriff. We're engaged to be married, but we had a bit of a disagreement. She's never driven the Jag before, so she's probably not real familiar with it. Where are you exactly?"
The sheriff gave him directions, and Leidolf said, "Just hold her for me, will you? We'll be right there."
"You got it, Mr. Wildhaven. And congratulations."
"Thanks. Anyone else with her?"
"I'm headed to the vehicle now. It's hard to tell who's in the car since the windows are so darkly tinted and with it being night and all."
"All right. Thanks. Be there shortly."
Leidolf passed the word along to his men and couldn't have pushed his Humvee any faster on the curving road after getting word that the sheriff had caught up with his little runaway wolf and maybe that idiot Sarge. Didn't she realize how conspicuous she would be in the Jag?
Good thing for him. This time she wasn't getting away from him. And he was going to learn the truth about her. All of it. One way or another. As for Sarge, if he was with her and had coerced her in any way, Leidolf wouldn't be responsible for his actions.
* * *
Cassie watched in the rearview mirror, her skin perspiring lightly in Leidolf's flannel shirt and wool sweater that smelled musky and--if she was willing to be honest with herself--heavenly.
Sarge smelled of sweat and fear. She'd strangle him if he said anything that gave them away.
The driver's door of the police car opened slowly. Police had the market on giving good guys--well, normally good guys--a case of nerves. Can you move any more slowly than that? she wanted to scream.
Her eyes glued on the rearview mirror, she anticipated his every move like a wolf would.
He slapped a notebook against his leg, his look fierce, sure to put the fear of the law into her. And she would spill all her secrets as soon as he opened his mouth and began questioning her. Right.
Sarge shifted again in his seat. "Now would be a good time to make a run for it."
She ignored him but moved her foot to the gas pedal. Outrunning the police wasn't really in the plans. If she continued on this road in the direction she was headed, she'd drive right by her car. And if she tried to make a quick stop and switch cars at the trailhead, the police officer would catch her at it and could run her plates and know exactly who she was.
He drew closer, and although he carried a few extra pounds, he looked too fit to walk so darned slowly.
At least he hadn't drawn a weapon yet.
"Hell," Sarge said, folding his arms across his chest. "We could have left him choking in the dust."
As if this place ever got dusty, as rainy as it was. Muddy was more like it.
She opened the car window and tried to look cool and collected.
When the police officer reached her door, she let out her breath, not even realizing she'd been holding it.
"Ma'am, can you open your door for me? And turn off the ignition, please." The dark-haired man peered into the vehicle, his brown eyes darkening as he saw Sarge.
Now he had his hand near his revolver. As much as she didn't want to, she opened the door and pushed it wide, but she didn't turn off the engine, while she still rested her foot on the brake. His gaze went from her face downward to her bare legs. The shirt and sweater pooled over her lap, but it only reached about thigh-high. Socks, no shoes. For a minute, her appearance distracted him, and he didn't say anything about the fact she hadn't cut the engine.
His brows arched a little, and he said, "Turn off the vehicle, miss."
Last chance to peel some rubber and take off. She turned off the ignition. The silence seemed deafening.
"Have you got some ID?"
Yep, but the driver's license was in her car.
"It was stolen," she said in a small voice, designed to earn her some sympathy.
The man's mouth curved up slightly, but his eyes didn't reflect any humor. "Like the car?"
"Leidolf loaned it to me."
"Ah, and his clothes also?"
She took a deep breath, but she couldn't smell any hint that he was a lupus garou. Leidolf must have told the sheriff that she took both his clothes and the Jag. Or he assumed it. The clothes were definitely too big for her, and menswear.
"Your name?"
"Cassie Robbins." Might as well use a different one since she didn't have any ID anyway. "Are you going to arrest me, or what?" She was past trying to get his sympathy. Lost cause.
"Who are you?" the sheriff asked Sarge, ignoring her question.
"Sarge... uhm... Elmer Rowlington."
Cassie glanced at Sarge, thinking of Elmer Fudd of cartoon fame. Sarge gave her a dark look in return.
"From around here?" the officer asked.
"I'm originally from Millinocket, Maine. But now I'm one of Leidolf Wildhaven's ranch hands." He tried to sound tough, like a ranch hand might, but his voice hi
tched, and he fell far short of the role he tried to play.
She wondered how he could have gotten mixed up with a group who made it their business to kill werewolves.
"And you're with Ms. Robbins for what reason?" The sheriff spoke in a rough tone with both of them, but his voice got a whole lot darker when he talked to Sarge.
Sarge wasn't holding up well, not the way he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, or the way he squeaked out the words. "She wanted me to make sure she drove the stick shift okay. She hasn't driven one in a long time."
The sheriff stared hard at Sarge as if he was trying to intimidate him into revealing the correct answer. The guy was easily intimidated and looked like he was about to crawl under the seat, head bowed, eyes lowered. Which meant? Cassie was the brains and muscle behind the operation, while Sarge was just a tag-along. Hell, the way he acted, the sheriff might conclude that she was the one who coerced Sarge to come along with her... because she hadn't driven a stick shift in so long.
The sheriff shifted his attention to Cassie. "No driver's license, half-dressed, driving a borrowed car that you didn't have permission to take... You're in a bit of trouble, miss. But Mr. Wildhaven said you and he had a tiff and that you were down on your luck, so he's coming to retrieve his Jag and take you home." He shrugged. "The thought of marriage can be overwhelming at times, but I've been married for twenty-seven years, and young lady, you'll do just fine."
Marriage? She felt her face heat. Leidolf better not have said he and she were getting married. Did the sheriff think Leidolf meant to take her to her own home? She knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Who's the guy with you?" the sheriff asked, as if confirming Sarge's story, and she wondered if he was worried that maybe Sarge was playacting, pretending to be a really subservient guy while, in reality, he had forced her to take him for a ride in the Jag.
"One of Leidolf's ranch hands, Elmer, like he said." She smiled. Teach Sarge to coerce her to take him along with her.
"All right. I'll let Mr. Wildhaven know you're both here. He should be joining us in just a few minutes."
That would be the end of her chance to take care of the she-wolf and the pups and locate Alex. Wait, if Alex made the 911 call, the sheriff would probably know, and she could possibly learn if he was all right. Then she would only have to search for the mother and her pups.
She cleared her throat. "I heard about the men found tranquilized in the woods. Did Alex Wellington call it in?"
The sheriff's eyes widened. "What do you know about any of that?"
Her lips parted. Not good. If the sheriff discovered she'd been there, he might assume she knew about the murderers, too. What if he put her under some kind of house arrest? At the very least, if Leidolf learned about it, he probably would. Well, more so than she was already.
She attempted to appear nonchalant with a shrug. "Just sounds like something he might have done. I think he was supposed to be conducting some wolf biologist studies in the area."
"We don't... well, we didn't have any wolves out here." He narrowed his eyes at her. "At least I'd never heard of any before. What makes you suspect he was here?"
"He's always looking for them. How would I know?"
"You just said..." The sheriff shook his head. "The guy who called the 911 operator gave us the location and took off. We figured he was afraid the ones he said had murdered someone might locate him and kill him. Do you think he might be this guy named Alex Wellington?"
Hell, she really had thought Alex had stayed to ensure the zoo men were safe until the police arrived. That way, when the police showed up, they would have known who Alex was. "Uh, no. Come to think of it, he was working on a project in the Canadian Arctic."
"Canadian Arctic?" The sheriff didn't sound like he believed her. She wouldn't have, either. "You can't be his girlfriend if you're marrying Leidolf."
She laughed and hoped the sound wasn't too faked. "He doesn't have regular girlfriends. I'm just a friend." She was getting them both in a deeper and deeper hole. Now she was afraid that if the sheriff began searching for Alex, word might get out to the murderers that he was the one who had been out in the woods listening to their conversation.
"Do you have a number or place of employment for him so I can verify where he is currently?"
She began to climb out of the car. "No. He's self-employed. I don't have his number, and he moves around a lot."
Sarge reached out and touched her arm as if to deter her, but she gave him a look that said if he tried to stop her, he'd be in real trouble. He quickly pulled his hand back.
The sheriff frowned and looked again at her bare legs. "You don't have to get out of the car. It's cold, and the way you're dressed--"
That was the last he said as she pulled her foot off the brake, hopped out of the car, and the Jag began to roll down the hill. She hoped the sheriff would catch it before it ran into anything, that he didn't try to stop her instead, and that Sarge wasn't injured in the runaway vehicle. It was the break she needed, and it served Sarge right for forcing her to take him with her. Besides, Leidolf would soon be here to take the guy back into custody. Not her, though.
"Hell!" The sheriff tore off down the road, too busy trying to reach the car as it picked up speed to give her a second glance.
She thought Sarge might try to get into the driver's seat and take off in the car. As soon as the sheriff raced after the Jag, she couldn't worry about anything else while she ran for the woods, knowing Leidolf would soon take care of Sarge and the Jag.
She contemplated heading for the pups, but getting her clothes and a good pair of hiking boots from her truck seemed a better choice. So in Leidolf's socks that were way too big, she dashed through the underbrush, the twigs and branches scratching her bare legs while she wished she could run along the road instead. Would have been much faster. She just hoped the sheriff would catch the Jag and stop Sarge from going anywhere until Leidolf arrived.
Normally, her wolf's sense of self-preservation would have forced her to slow down, to make the least amount of noise, but another part of her hoped that if she made enough of a racket, if hunters were looking for all the feral red wolves roaming the woods, they'd realize she couldn't be a wolf, as noisy as she was.
She smelled the faint odor of a mountain lion and cursed under her breath. Still, she thought it was quite a way off. But what if that meant the lion might locate the pups' den?
She stopped and stood still, her heart pounding hard, the blood rushing in her ears, trying to muffle any other sound. Change, her mind screamed at her. Shift and go back to find the pups. She'd be warmer and could run a hell of a lot faster, more quietly, and less conspicuously.
Then from a distance, the sound of something tromping through the brush in her direction gave her more of a worry. Hunters? Reporters? The zoo men? The murderers? Alex? The sheriff would have been coming in the opposite direction. She doubted he'd race through the woods in the dark after her, or that he would have had time to stop the car and then chase after her. And it sounded like two people, not one.
She dropped low, crouching, hiding herself in the undergrowth, but her movement must have caught their attention as both swiveled their heads in her direction. Hell, they were outfitted with those night-vision goggles attached to their headgear, their breaths coming hard, as they shoved away branches and looked straight at her. One hundred fifty yards and closing. But their pace was slower now, as if they were afraid to scare away their newly found prey.
She lifted her nose slightly and smelled. Her heart beating frantically, her blood ran cold. Both were hunters, both wearing scruffy beards, camouflage gear, and olive-drab caps. For a second, she feared they would shoot her, thinking she was a wolf, being as paranoid as anyone else looking to kill a bunch of feral predators and expecting anything that moved to be one of them.
At first, the hunters stared at her slack-jawed and moved toward her even more slowly. She imagined that, because of the lack of moon or stars on the
overcast night and the shadows of the woods, they hadn't seen her until she'd moved. That's what had given her away.
Suddenly, they stopped cold and observed her. As if they were seeing a ghost, unsure of what they were actually observing. Thankfully. So they weren't going to just shoot her without checking her out further.
But did they recognize she was a woman, hiding in the woods and not doing a very good job of it? They wouldn't know she could see them, too, but they had to realize she would have heard their approach. Maybe they figured she got scared then and stopped dead in her tracks. If they had been wolves, lupus garou, or those who studied wolves like she did, they'd know she was ready to bolt. She doubted they'd recognize that. And she didn't think they'd catch her if they gave chase.
"Holy moly, Ben. She's not one of those red wolves," the man whispered to the other. "What would she be doing out here?"
Ben responded in a hushed voice, shouldering his rifle. "Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say she was that wolf biologist I told you about that talked real pretty about wolves."
Crap, it couldn't be the man who hounded her when she lectured at the town hall.
"I dunno, but she's got to be in some kinda trouble. You move around that way, really quiet like so's not to spook her."
Ben gave a thumbs-up and began to circle slightly to Cassie's left.
She let out her breath in exasperation. Then she had another thought. What if she could get hold of the men's goggles and ditch them? The men wouldn't be able to see in the dark without them and follow her, and they couldn't look for the female wolf or her pups, either. Cassie kept a smile to herself. Then how in the hell was she going to get the goggles away from the men?
"Are you... Dr. Roux, miss?" Ben asked, drawing a couple of steps closer. "Are you hurt?"
She stood up: no sense in pretending she couldn't be seen.
He lowered his binoculars as he looked down her legs to her feet where the socks rested in a puddle at her ankles.