Wolf at the Door: A Novel of Suspense

by JD Salyers

  Her feet crunched across the grass, then rattled the gravel in the road as she made her way toward the woods. Another thirty minutes and it would be dark. She was glad she remembered the light.

  It was still snowing, too. The flakes lit on her nose and in her eyelashes. By the time she got to the edge of the woods and paused, looking in between the trees, her hair was wet. The end of her ponytail swung in and caught under the collar of her coat. She shivered. “Well, boy, let's go.”

  The trees over her head cut off the last of the daylight, leaving her in total darkness. Retro pressed against her leg. She loved both dogs, but had bonded more with Retro these last few months for some reason that she couldn't actually name. Maybe it was his playful nature - he was less on guard than Burns, even when he was supposed to be training. A clown, Ethan called him, and Quinn had to agree. Retro's eyes glowed with a sparkle that made Quinn think he was laughing. Still, he learned his lessons well enough and he was a sweet dog.

  Now, close to her right hand, he paused in their walk and chuffed lightly toward the woods. She redirected the light - his fur was climbing to a thick ruff along his spine.

  She stopped breathing, and wouldn't start again until he relaxed his stance. She knew not to speak - he would take her voice as permission to relax and wait for further instructions, and she didn't want that. She wanted him on edge, if there was anything in these woods that could harm her.

  She watched him closely. He took a couple of steps away from her, toward a particularly dark area of the trees. Through those trees, if her sense of direction was correct, was the road that led down to the river. She didn’t see any headlights, though. She didn’t hear a car engine. He raised his nose and sniffed at the cold air, then sneezed. She smiled at that, then pulled him back to her side. Somewhere off in the darkness a soft thump startled her. Snow, falling off a branch.

  She hoped.

  “Retro,” she said, “We've got to find Ethan. Where is he, boy?”

  Shining her light around her, she saw a trail of sorts leading through a less dense part of the trees. Her light hit twin reflections and a deer bounded away, into the cover of the foliage and brush. She waited for more, but this one appeared to be alone. “Let's go,” she said to Retro.

  She followed the trail, slowly, hoping that this was the way Ethan went every day, instead of just a random wildlife track to the river at the bottom of the mountain. The leaves still rustled under her feet, but not as loudly with the snow wetting them down. Retro pressed against her leg. As she walked, she flashed her light all around, scaring a bird here and there but getting a good view of the entire area. There was no sign of Ethan, or of him having come through here.

  Behind her, in the direction of the house, she heard Burns bark. Once, twice. She thought she heard him whine. When she paused, Retro kept going, sniffing at the air.

  Should she keep going, or go back to see what Burns was barking at? It could be that he was just mad - he'd been left behind, after all. If she kept going, would she find Ethan? He could be just beyond the next stand of trees, and if she turned back now she might miss finding him by mere feet.

  But the slog through the woods felt like a waste of time, now that she was out here. Call it a hunch, call it her mental connection to her husband, but she didn't think she would find him in the woods.

  She realized that she was already thinking of him as if he were gone for good. She didn't know why, and it was a stupid way to think. Her Ethan would never leave her without explanation, and he was strong and wise to the ways of the forest, even after years in the suburbs. She didn't think he would have gotten hurt badly, but it was possible. How could she know?

  Her thoughts were starting to scramble. She shook her head and heaved a sigh.

  Retro pulled the leash a little - Ethan had never quite broken him of that - but she held still. Then she scanned the woods once more, flashing the beam from tree trunk to tree trunk just to be sure, and started back toward the house.

  She decided that she would check on Burns, then check the southern, western, and northern tree lines. She wouldn't go into the woods again, just shine the light from the edge of the field. Enough to reassure herself. Then, if Ethan was still missing, she would call nine-one-one. It was all she could think of to do.

  Retro wasn't ready to stop exploring. He bounced and pulled until she got tired of fighting him and unclipped the lead. Surprisingly enough, he bounded off toward home. She sped up a little. She didn't like the feeling of being in these woods by herself. Stupid dog.

  “Ethan, where are you?” she asked the night. An owl hooted somewhere off to her left.

  When she broke free of the woods again, she glanced around the field, then checked the area around the house. The living room lights glowed warmly. She could see Burns, his feet on top of the fence, wanting out of his cage. Retro was standing in the center of the front yard, staring intently at something down the mountain, toward the mossyhead neighbors. She watched him duck his head a little, crouching. He was still a pup, but from here he looked vicious.

  What did he see?

  She took a step closer, then caught movement from the corner of her eye.

  A man, standing in the middle of the road, barely discernible in the darkness around him.

  Chapter Five

  She didn't recognize him immediately. He wore dark clothes. From here he looked like he might have a beard, too, but she couldn't be sure about that. The dim light glanced off his face, showing that he was watching Retro.

  Then she saw him lift his arm, and her heart caught in her throat. Was he holding a gun? It looked like it - his stance, the way he lifted his chin, and the direction he was pointing - either he was casting a spell or aiming a weapon at her dog.

  Anger battled with fear in her chest. Before one or the other could win she brought the flashlight up and blinded him with it. “Who's there?” she called.

  His arm came up and blocked the beam, so she shifted the light to shine just above his head. She was right - he had a beard, a scraggy looking thing that reached almost to his chest. He wasn't skinny, exactly, but he wasn't a big man either. He didn't look healthy. Most importantly, when he brought his hand up she could see clearly that he was armed, with a small black handgun.

  He shoved it into his pocket and turned her way. In front of the house, Retro relaxed his stance and trotted toward her.

  The man didn't answer.

  “Who are you?” she asked, still keeping her distance. It was obvious from the man's reaction that he hadn't seen her there. At least he put his gun away.

  “Just walking, lady,” the man said. His voice was reedy and kind of high.

  “Why did you pull a gun on my dog, mister?”

  The man took a step in her direction. “Stay there,” she said. She wasn't armed at all, but he wouldn't know that. For all he could tell, she had a rifle by her side.

  “I thought he was going to attack me.”

  She didn't believe a word of that. Retro was simply standing his ground on their property, making no move toward the guy. “Not unless I tell him to - should I?”

  For half a second, she was impressed with how commanding she sounded.

  The man shuffled his feet in the gravel, and she brought her flashlight into his eyes again. “What's your business out here?”

  “I told you, I'm just going for a walk.”

  His whiny tone disgusted her a little, but she pushed that feeling aside. “Who are you?”

  “Abel Welch. I'm staying with Patty and Rick.”

  He pointed down into the hollow, and she understood that Patty and Rick were the neighbors with three kids and too many house guests. This must be one of them.

  She didn't say anything for a moment. She just watched him. He wasn't moving toward her, which was good. But he also wasn't moving back toward home, which was bad. The way he stood made her think of a cop, pulling someone over. Arms crossed, chest out, like he was the one who should be asking questions. Suddenly s
he had no doubt that if not for the threat of her nonexistent gun, he would be pushing his luck a lot more. She didn't know how she knew it, but it was as true as her name.

  Folks around here prided themselves on being neighborly, but that only applied during daylight hours. If a person got caught sneaking around at night, they were going to be questioned, most likely at the point of a gun. Most people knew this, and Quinn didn't have any problem letting this man think she was carrying.

  Her problem was that he was between her and the house.

  Retro reached her and poked his cold nose into her hand. “Good boy,” she murmured, scratching him behind the ear. The action calmed her a little, and reminded her that she wasn't alone. To the man she said, “You might want to head on home now.”

  He held up a hand. “Sure, sure. I'll be doing that.”

  He didn't move right away. She saw him glance toward the house. His eyes stopped somewhere near the vehicles - her SUV and Ethan's truck - parked near the road. Had he been planning to break into them? She had no idea. She was just glad that she was outside to see him before he could do any damage. “Go on, now. It's best if you don't come around here at night.”

  “Well...” He drew the word out, still not making a move to go away. “It seems that I'm on a state-maintained road. That's public property.”

  “Yessir. And if you had just been walking by, I wouldn't have said a word. But you didn't, did you? You stopped to take a look around. Why would you do that, Mr. Abel Welch?”

  She was amazed that her voice sounded so steady, considering the fact that she was...what? Not scared, exactly. Nervous, yes. Angry? A little. But not scared. She wished Ethan was here to handle this, but he wasn't, and maybe she was a little mad at him, too.

  But she thought she could handle this guy, as long as he didn’t make any sudden moves.

  He didn't answer, but he did turn her way. Then she saw him sway a little, and realized that he was drinking. Of course he was - that's all they seemed to do down at that ratty old double-wide. At least, that's all the adults seemed to do. Why would he be any different? She knew she was making ugly assumptions, and she didn't care. She just hoped he didn't call her bluff.

  That's exactly what he was doing, though. He didn't turn around and go home, like she hoped. He simply stood there, blocking her way to safety and showing no plans to move. Her fingers tightened around the flashlight. It was a heavy red Mag Lite, nearly two feet long and made of metal. The kind that cops carried. She could use it to defend herself if she had to, but she was mostly relying on his assumption that she had a gun. “Go on home, now, Mr. Welch.”

  “I think I'll finish my walk,” he said. His voice didn't sound so reedy now. It was deeper, more belligerent.

  “Then move along. There is nothing for you to see here.”

  Did he chuckle? Was that a laugh she heard? “What if I don't?” he asked her. “It's not like you can call the cops from the middle of a field, now, can you?”

  She shifted the flashlight to her other hand and reached into her pocket. Her keys were snuggled into the bottom corner. She found the button and pressed it without looking away. A moment later, she heard a soft squeak.

  Abel Welch heard it too, and turned around again, just in time to see Burns explode from the gate, snarling. Retro took the hint and ran, too. They would meet, just about where the intruder was standing. Quinn held her breath.

  She didn't think the dogs would kill a person - Ethan wouldn't allow them to do that. Would he?

  Retro's timing was off by half a second. Burns got there first and jumped off the bank into the road, just as the man realized that he might be in trouble. Another instant, and Burns was lunging with his front feet planted on the guy's chest. They both went down. Quinn didn't know if the dogs were that fast, or if the guy's actions were that slow, but by the time Retro got there, Burns was standing on top of Abel's chest and growling at his throat.

  Abel tried to push the dog off, and Retro ducked in to snap at his hands. Abel pulled back with a yelp. “Get them off me!” he screeched. “Lady! Get them away!”

  Quinn didn't answer. She took a step closer - not so close that he could get a good look at her. “I said, I think it's time for you to head on home, Mr. Welch. Isn't that right?”

  Welch launched into a coughing fit. Good. She took the time to breathe in and steady her voice again. “Retro, Burns. Come.”

  The dogs looked up at the sound of their names, then Burns jumped over the man in the road and trotted her way. Retro looked back, then followed, like he was disappointed that he hadn't gotten in on the action. When they got to her, she put her free hand down to touch the tops of their heads. A small thank you. “I believe you'll be heading home now, Mr. Welch.”

  He was trying to scramble to his feet, but apparently drink made him dizzy when he actually tried to move. He sat down hard in the gravel with a grunt.

  That was OK. Now that the dogs were with her, she could wait. She knew they would protect her.

  Her hands were shaking. Maybe with cold, maybe with adrenaline, she wasn't sure which. All she knew was that she wanted Ethan to come home. She wanted to go into the house and take a hot shower and drink some tea. She wanted to feel safe. The day had seemed a week long, and she was ready for it to be over.

  But there was no sign of Ethan, and at this point she was pretty sure that something had happened to him.

  A new thought crept in, then burst fresh to the front of her mind. Did Abel have something to do with Ethan? On the same day Ethan disappeared, Abel showed up. Surely there had to be a connection.

  Or did there? She knew herself well – she was prone to seeing patterns where there were none. It was part of her therapy, back in the city. It was entirely possible that two things like this could happen without being connected in any way. Right?

  Or had Abel Welch hurt Ethan? Was this whole mess his fault? Ethan could no doubt hold his own in a fight with this...this...mossyhead, but what if Abel Welch had used that gun? What if he had ambushed Ethan in the woods and, well...

  Her breath was coming in short quick gasps, thinking about it. She pushed the thought away.

  Why would he? What reason would he have? It made no sense. None. She felt her heartbeat slow, just a little.

  When Abel Welch finally made it to his feet, he startled her by screaming, “Those dogs are a menace, lady. They need to be put down.”

  She steadied herself. “Don't think so, Mr. Welch. You, maybe. Not them.” Then she allowed herself a little grin. That was possibly the bravest thing she ever said in her life.

  “I'll be calling the law.”

  “You do that. When you get home.” He had no intention of calling the police, and she knew it. God only knew what they were doing down in that hollow, but she doubted they would want the cops poking around. “In fact, if you don't hurry up, I might just call the cops myself.”

  Like the gun, he wouldn't know if she had a cell phone or not. He probably didn't know that even if she'd grabbed her phone, there was no service back on this mountain. That was why she seldom carried it anywhere since she'd moved here. There was no point, and she had gotten out of the habit.

  Not wanting to see his struggle to right himself, she had trained the flashlight's beam on the ground between them. Now she heard the clatter of gravel on his boots and pulled it up again. He was standing now, half turned back toward the road. Like he was about to leave, but still thinking about it. Finally, he started down the hill, back the way he had come. She hoped he got there safely and called it a night.

  “Come on, boys. Let's go home,” she said, touching each dog's head again. They started off across the field, Retro plowing ahead. Burns stayed closer to her, which she appreciated. She kept a hand on his collar all the way to the edge of the road, then stopped.

  Abel was heading home, not looking back her way. Good. Maybe he would forget all about this and sleep it off, never to bother her again. Or maybe not, and that was OK, too. She now knew th
at she could handle him if he showed up again, and that was enough to quell the last of her fear. She kept an eye on him until he was completely out of sight, around the sharp turn that led back down to where he came from. Only then did she feel it was all right to relax.

  She made it back to the porch without seeing him again, but still she stood there in the cold, not quite willing to go into the house yet. Instead, she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked around the property. The wind was picking up, and it was starting to snow again. She shivered.

  She wished she knew where Ethan was, and why he wasn't home with her.

  The dogs had taken off again, and she thought she should put them away in their pen before she went inside. If Ethan was out there in the woods - and where else could he be - and hurt, he could be very sick, or even dead, by morning. Even a healthy man was at risk in this kind of weather. It was full dark now.

  Instead of sending the dogs to their pen, she called them to her and let them into the house. They were huge, snuffling at everything because they normally weren't allowed inside. The cabin was spacious for just her and Ethan, but two big dogs seemed to take up all the extra room. She tripped over them twice, just getting her coat off and drawing a bowl of water for them. Big mutts.

  Once they were settled in front of the fireplace, lolling happily, she did what she should have done hours ago. She went to the phone to call nine-one-one.

  With her luck, Ethan would come strolling in ten minutes after she called, grinning about wherever he'd been and wondering why she was so upset. He was like that, always happy on the surface of things. She was maybe the only person who knew he felt deeply about certain subjects, and she knew instinctively when to ask and when to let him be. Ethan could read her just as easily, too. Maybe twenty-five years of marriage really had made them clairvoyant.