“The truth is, Dr. Claymont, we can’t be so sure of that,” the ranger said. He had a loping, heavy Southern accent. Floridian or something. “No one can seem to get a hold of Lee for over a week now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but he’s certainly not hiding out here if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Claymont said.
“You know perfectly well that’s not what Beck is asking,” the redhead snapped. She was wearing a painfully neon-green T-shirt with a company name printed boldly across the back, Montclaire Lumber Mill, and her jeans were dusty with sawdust.
“Then you can’t have any reason to want to search the property,” Dr. Claymont reasoned quickly. Her eyes flickered toward Cooper and Park, and she bit her lip, clearly eager to not continue this conversation under observation. “I do have a business to run, so I’m going to have to ask you to let me get back to work.”
The redhead laughed humorlessly. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to do anything to sabotage your business. When I—”
“Perhaps you’d better head back out to the truck, Monty,” the ranger interrupted. He had clearly caught sight of their audience, too. “I’ll give you a ride back to the mill.”
Monty looked over her shoulder, following his gaze toward Park and Cooper. “Fine. But mind me, Vanessa. You’re not the only one with control here.”
She spun to leave. She sent an overly friendly smile to Cooper and Park, still lingering by the doorway, and waved at them as she walked by. “Enjoy your stay! And if I were you I wouldn’t go into the woods alone. You never know what else is out there.”
Cooper didn’t jump when the flats of both her hands slammed into the wooden lodge door as she shoved out of the room, but it was close.
“Just one more thing before I let you get on with your day, Dr. Claymont,” the ranger said mildly, completely non-reactive to the dramatic exit. Claymont glanced again at Cooper and Park, but the ranger didn’t even give her time to protest. “Your groundskeeper, Kreuger—ex-groundskeeper, sorry. I understand he and Mr. Llcaj had an argument three weeks ago?”
For the first time, Claymont actually looked irritated. “If you mean Llcaj threw a bottle at him from a moving car, then yes, I suppose you could call it an argument.”
“But Kreuger didn’t press charges.”
“No,” Claymont said.
Ranger Beck waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “I’d like to get Mr. Kreuger’s forwarding information from you.”
“I’ll have to look through my files.” She looked pointedly at Cooper and Park. “I can drop them by the station in the next couple days.”
Beck smiled, taking his time, dragging the pause past the point of comfortable. “You go ahead and look,” he said at last. “No need to drive down to town. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“I’m sure,” Claymont said tightly.
He nodded at her and turned to cast a tight, cool look at Cooper and Park. “Gentlemen,” he said, and strolled out the big front door. When he opened it Cooper could see Monty pacing just outside before it swung shut.
“I am so sorry about that,” Vanessa said, approaching them. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Who was that woman?” Cooper asked, figuring it a reasonable question for both an undercover agent and a startled civilian. “Is she a guest here?”
“Ms. Montclaire runs the lumber mill up the road. Unfortunately, a couple of our guests wandered too far onto her property last month and were sighted. Since then she’s been a bit jumpy about a wolf in the area.” She laughed at that and so did Park.
Cooper smiled awkwardly. “Did she say someone was missing, though?” he asked tentatively.
Dr. Claymont flapped her hand in dismissal, and if she was in the least bit worried about anything Monty had said, she wasn’t showing it. “The loggers she hires are unreliable at best and Llcaj is one of the worst. Any other time she’d be agreeing with me that he’s sleeping it off somewhere, but again—” Vanessa shrugged “—humans do tend to blame the Big Bad Wolf even when we’re not there.”
Park nodded along with that. “Are you expecting trouble?” he asked, matter-of-factly. Cooper thought it was a bit too blunt for a civilian, but Vanessa didn’t seem to find it odd and he realized with a start that conversations around threat of discovery were commonplace between wolves whether they knew each other or not. Above all else, they were all allies in maintaining the secret.
“Not at all,” Vanessa said. “We can guarantee you a relaxing, safe stay. A true retreat where your only concern is on each other.” She smiled, clearly slipping back into professional mode, taking back the control she’d lost by their unexpected witnessing. She did it well. If Cooper weren’t here investigating a whole other missing person, he’d be convinced nothing was amiss. “Please let me check you in.”
The lodge lobby was impressively appealing. Wide plank pine floors and the full wall of windows letting in sun gave the room a clean and soothing look. To the side were a few comfortable chairs and a couch gathered around a large stone fireplace, while the back of the room was largely taken up by a wooden reception desk, behind which hung an enormous piece of art. The canvas was a wash of blues and purples, but Cooper could make out an indistinct figure standing on a cliff’s edge. Its hands thrown up in the air, as if pleading with the violently painted waterfall in the background. It was a bit eerie and a decidedly bold choice for lobby art.
Vanessa caught the direction of his gaze as she eased behind the desk and opened a sleek laptop. “A local artist.”
“Depicting a local legend,” Park murmured.
A strange expression flashed across her face—annoyance, maybe even anger. “But one that has traveled far, it seems.”
“Lit professor,” Park said. “Fables are a bit of a hobby for me.”
Vanessa smiled genuinely and her posture relaxed. “Let me guess, that must make you Professor Andrew Preston, am I right? And your partner, Kyle Davis.”
Cooper slid his palm over Park’s back. “That’s us.”
Vanessa finished checking them in for their five-day stay, all while cheerfully filling them in on the details of the retreat, the unpleasantness of Monty forgotten or at least expertly compartmentalized. The lodge they stood in now was where they’d meet for events, but each couple got their own small, private cabin on the property.
“You’re in lucky number seven. My personal favorite,” she said, leading them out of the building and into the previously seen golf cart. It was the sort with four rows, one facing backward at the end. At Vanessa’s direction Cooper and Park slid into the row directly behind the driving seat and listened as she gave the retreat spiel, though most of it was familiar from Santiago’s folder.
Each couple was expected to attend daily personal couples counseling with one of their two on-site licensed psychiatrists. There were also a number of trust-building activities and intimacy workshops they could attend. “Some activities are specifically geared toward wolves only,” she said smoothly. “But you’ll find those marked.”
Cooper examined her tone for any sign of discomfort or resentment, but found none. When they weren’t in counseling sessions or doing circular trust-falls, or whatever the “trust-building activities” meant, they were welcome to make use of the lodge’s luxury facilities. Swimming pool, steam room, hot tub. A full massage parlor and “plenty of outdoor sport”—the meaning of which was another mystery Cooper would have to solve. Mealtimes could be shared in the common dining room, or with a little forewarning the staff were happy to accommodate takeaway meals if guests desired a more “private setting.” Cooper found himself growing increasingly flushed as Vanessa spoke. Considering he and Park were a real couple, it was harder than he’d expected hearing someone be so blunt about their sex lives.
But aside from the counseling every day, most of the amenities and services offered see
med to be manufactured around providing private time for “intimate connections.” Was this their main professional advice for working on a relationship? Bone more, but make it fancy?
The golf cart made it down the hill and rounded the bend. Cooper inhaled sharply. He saw now that the lodge had been built on the side of a cliff, expansive back porch overlooking a lake. Filling the lake opposite the lodge was a tall, thin waterfall.
“Wow,” he said.
Vanessa slowed the cart to a stop so they could take in the sight. “There’s a lot of natural beauty in these mountains,” she said. “We kick off every weekend with a hike to the top of the falls for our commitment renewal ceremony. We’re meeting at the lodge at four for that today.”
“Commitment renewal ceremony?” Cooper said casually, trying very hard to ignore the voice screaming Cult! Cult! Cult! in the back of his head.
“Some of the program sessions can be very intense,” she said, starting the cart again. “You’ll dig deep, discover truths about each other you never have known.”
“I hope we don’t have any more secrets left,” Cooper said, exchanging a sardonic look with Park.
“Maybe not.” Vanessa waved her hand as she slowed to a stop in front of a sweet little one-room cabin. Wooden siding, mossy roof and shaded by a copse of trees, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. Hopefully one of the updated editions where no one would be skinned, cooked and eaten alive. Nearby, the constant noise of the waterfall softened the sounds of the summer air. “But you’d be surprised by some of the emotions that come up while here,” she added. “We’ve found it helps to start our time together by reiterating the reasons we want the relationship to work. When the work gets tough, it’s important to remember why you’re really here.”
At least that Cooper could agree with.
* * *
The interior of the cabin was cozy but pleasant. The bed big, sturdy, the furniture sparse but solid handcrafted wood, and someone had obviously made an effort to make up for the limited natural light by decorating the one-bed/one-bath in pale, airy colors. The whites, pastel blues and accents of sage weren’t Cooper’s style per se, but he doubted anyone would get offended by them, and that was probably the point.
Stretched out on the bed trying to ease the knots out of his spine, Cooper eyed Park seated at the desk across the room and wondered if it was his style. Or, alarming thought, what if Park genuinely liked those gaudy mansions and velvet fainting couches, or whatever such homes were filled with?
Cooper opened his mouth, closed it. They were on a case, not a real getaway. If the biggest “emotional secret” waiting to be uncovered Vanessa had referred to was that Park was an aesthetic Liberace in waiting, they’d cross that golden bridge when they got to it.
He turned his thoughts to the case. “What do you make of this missing logger?” he asked the ceiling.
“A human fights with Kreuger and now they’re both nowhere to be found? Unlikely to be a coincidence,” Park said. “If they did have a second run-in, that’s certainly one reason Kreuger would want to disappear.”
Cooper frowned. “You think Kreuger killed Llcaj and went on the run? Why not the other way around? Sounded to me like Llcaj attacked him first. He could have finished the job and pulled a vanishing act himself.”
Park hummed, flicking through his phone distractedly. “Or they’re both victims of someone else. Kreuger thought he might be able to get a deal. He must have thought he had information on somebody the BSI would want. Or thought he could lie about it, anyway.”
Cooper considered that. Despite discovering a whole second possible victim, they weren’t any further in what they did and didn’t know.
“Find anything interesting on that?” he asked, indicating Park’s phone. Vanessa had reiterated that all guests were requested to meet at the lodge at four and that they were welcome to explore until then or just “have a lie down,” which Cooper supposed meant sex. The only requirement was that they log onto the retreat site and complete “some initial consent forms, questionnaires, you know the deal.”
“No, nothing unexpected. Plus, we have to sign up for some trust-building activities. Looks like everyone on staff pitches in to teach at least one each. Too bad we can’t split up and cover more ground that way.”
“Yeah, splitting up for the trust-building activities during couples’ camp. Not sure even I can swing that one,” Cooper said dryly. “So what are we talking about here? Three-legged race? Hot dog eating contest?”
Park sounded amused. “This isn’t fifth-grade sleepaway camp, Cooper. It’s a werewolf couples’ retreat.”
“Right. So, how to tantric sex and a get-to-know-ya orgy under the full moon?”
Park was suspiciously quiet. Cooper rolled to his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. “Tell me that’s not it.”
“Oh, yeah, no. No full moon needed,” Park said distractedly, reading something on the screen with a frown. “Unrelated question, you packed your Venetian mask, right?”
Cooper considered throwing a pillow at him, but was too comfortable to move.
Park continued, “In all seriousness, though, you’re going to have to take your AQ before we can sign up for any of these.”
“My what?” Cooper frowned. He’d heard that term somewhere before, but had to search his memory for it.
“Your Alpha Quotient test,” Park said simply, still flicking and tapping at the screen.
Cooper scrambled upright. “What? I—but—what?”
Park was biting down a smile. “They want everyone to take it, to get a sense of strengths, weaknesses, our interpersonal dynamic.”
“Yes, but... I’m not...a wolf,” Cooper said blankly, head spinning.
Park shook his head sadly, still tapping on the screen. “Ten minutes at counseling camp and the first dark secret has already emerged. Dr. Claymont did warn us.”
“No, but—can you look at me, please?”
“Give me ten seconds,” Park said. Cooper watched him tap at the screen and then put it down. “All right, I just finished mine.”
“You took yours already? Just now?” Cooper cried, dismayed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have watched!”
Park’s eyebrow rose. “You mean cheat?”
“Cheeeeat,” Cooper hedged. “There’s a lot of gray area around that, isn’t there?”
Park’s right eyebrow jumped up to join the other. “I know what I want to talk about in our session tomorrow, anyway.”
Cooper shot Park a look and shifted on the bed, feeling jittery. “What did you get? Can I see the test? How many questions are there? How the hell did you just take it right here while we were talking? Is that still valid?”
Park held up his hand and Cooper’s mouth snapped shut. “It said we get our scores back during our session with the counselor tomorrow to discuss them. I’ve taken the AQ many, many times in my life. This one had some new stuff, but nothing I can’t do while talking to you at the same time. Question types and number vary.”
“How personal are we talking here? Do I give a medical history? Favorite sex position?”
Park gave him a sharp look. “It has nothing to do with how you like to fuck.”
Cooper waved him on impatiently. “Then give me some examples.”
Park sighed. “There’s always a number of hypothetical situation questions.” He smiled slightly. “For example, your mate says you should buy a place together, then comes up with excuses not to attend half of the house viewings and relentlessly scoffs at the other half. What would you do?”
“Is the right answer guilt him about it when he’s feeling vulnerable?” Cooper asked dryly. “Because, boy, no wonder you dominate this shit.”
“Then there’s the questions where a sequence of events is described and you have to guess the motivation behind them. A man steals another man’s notebo
ok containing information about said houses, then hides it under the couch pillow rather than get caught reading it. Why? Then your basic rating questions, like, on a scale of one to ten, how strongly do you identify with the statement I am a sneaky little—”
Cooper tsked. “How strongly do you identify with the statement suck my—”
“Very strongly. Ten out of ten.” He looked Cooper up and down and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward slightly. “Then sometimes you’re briefly shown an image and have to recall three things about it. The three things you prioritize indicate something about what details stick out to you and are scored different ways. Name three things about the house we saw yesterday.”
Cooper rolled his eyes then frowned. “Wait, are you serious?”
Park nodded.
“I don’t know, marble? And...” He scrambled for some detail that differentiated the house from the others, but all he could think of was Park and their real estate agent Josh standing outside. The nervous way Josh kept looking at Park. Inching closer, inching away. Imitating his stance. Part of it was the way most salespeople adopted their clients’ mannerisms as part of the process of ingratiation. But it was more than that, too. A subconscious sort of fear? Admiration? Attraction? It didn’t matter now. Those certainly weren’t the three words Park was looking for him to list. Cooper had always been more tuned in to people and their emotional state than things or places. He was going to fail this goddamn test.
Whatever Cooper’s face was doing made Park sigh, a resigned sort of sound. “Never mind. I’m sorry for winding you up. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know,” Cooper mumbled. He’d recognized Park was trying to joke him out of his nerves and he appreciated it. It wasn’t Park’s fault Cooper’s nerves had been past the point of no return, arguably for thirty plus years.
“Look, the idea is the answers should be instinctual. Your gut response.” Park nodded at Cooper’s own phone on the bedside table. “Don’t think. Just take it.”
Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Big Bad Wolf) Page 7