Death Chant

by Vella Munn

  “I’d never say anything to an outsider.”

  Outsider. Her throat went dry, compelling her to swallow several times.

  “That’s something to take pride in. To be certain who and what you are…”

  “Don’t envy me, Winter. Be proud of what you’ve done with your life.”

  “I’m a survivor.”

  “What made you like that?”

  His voice stroked her like a night breeze. Nothing existed except the two of them—and the barriers she’d erected around herself. “A lot of things I don’t want to talk about.” Can’t talk about.

  “Like not knowing whether your parents are alive.”

  Instead of giving her time to come up with a response, he drew her closer. As her breasts pressed against him, her heart started beating in double time. Her cheeks, throat and points south heated. In her mind’s eye, he carried her into his cabin, stripped off her clothes, laid her out on a narrow bed and settled his naked body on top of hers. She spread her legs for him and wrapped herself around him. Made him hers. Became part of him.

  “Damn it!” He shoved her away. “I know better. So do you.”

  He was right, terribly right. As she spun around so she didn’t have to look at him, she swore she’d never get close to him again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jay’s feet dragged as he made his way to Dr. Gilsdorf’s cabin, but it had nothing to do with reluctance to deal with law enforcement or the long day catching up to him. No matter how much he might want to deny it, and he wasn’t sure he did, he couldn’t get Winter out of his mind.

  Or wanting to touch her.

  Needing to make love to her.

  Where had that last thought come from? Granted, he hadn’t had a romantic relationship since his divorce, but sex with Winter wasn’t in the realm of possibilities. Was it?

  “You can’t go in there,” Art, a ranger he occasionally worked with, said as he approached the cabin.

  “I didn’t figure I could. Besides, I’ve already seen what I need to. Christian’s in there?”

  “Him and one other person.” Art spread his arms. “I’m the only one still standing guard. You and the woman were at the murder site, right?” He stuck out his hand. “Jay Raven, right?”

  Jay shook hands with Art. “I don’t know much about murder investigations,” he admitted. “Do you have any idea how long it’ll take?”

  “None. Being trained in how to conduct one is a different story from the real thing. I don’t need to tell you that murder and Olympic aren’t synonymous.”

  He studied the closed cabin door. “I have no idea what they’re going to find in there.”

  Art nodded. “I feel sorry for the woman who found the body. I heard she thought a lot of the victim.”

  “She did.”

  “And she discovered this place”—he pointed at the cabin—“had been ransacked.”

  “I was with her.”

  “Heavy. Robberies happen here. And how many car break-ins have we had this summer? Me, I believe it’s kids.” Art chuckled. “Back when I was a teenager, I did some pretty stupid things. Good thing I didn’t get caught. Otherwise, I would have never gotten this job.”

  If he’d broken any laws, Uncle Talio would have hauled him before the tribal council and compelled him to confess. Unfortunately, a strong father figure and close-knit tribe hadn’t kept Floyd sober.

  Winter didn’t have any kind of family.

  He was still drawing comparisons between his support system and her lack of one when the door opened and Christian and a ranger who usually worked around Sol Duc Hot Springs emerged.

  “Any chance what happened in here might lead you to Dr. Gilsdorf’s killer?” Jay asked Christian.

  “It’s a possibility, but, right now, I wouldn’t give you odds. You were in here both before and after the break-in, right?”

  Jay nodded.

  “How good is your memory?”

  “I didn’t pay much attention to the interior,” admitted. “Winter might be more help.”

  Christian pulled a notebook from a back pocket and held it up to the waning light. “Booth Deavers told me Dr. Gilsdorf had borrowed a number of volumes from the park library. I’ve asked him to give me as complete a list as possible.”

  Christian was in his early fifties. As with Michael and Booth, the day had taken a lot out of him. Did he intend to spend the night at Potlatch? And if so, where did that leave Winter, since Jay had put her in the only unoccupied cabin? Darn it, he should have thought of that before now.

  “You up to answering some questions?” Christian asked. “I’m dead on my feet, but I want to talk to you while your memory’s fresh. I need to do the same with Ms. Barstow. The two of you came right here when returning to Potlatch, right? How would you assess her emotional state?”

  Strong and fragile. “She was pretty upset last night, but she’s doing better today.” Maybe no longer being haunted by Wolf.

  Christian nodded. “That’ll probably come and go.” He glanced at his watch. “I want to go home and get a change of clothes. I’ll probably spend the night there then come back in the morning. Do you know where Ms. Barstow is? The sooner I do this the better.”

  “You want me to get her?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  I’m not sure how I feel about seeing her again so soon. “She informed Dr. Gilsdorf’s son of his death.”

  “Tough job. I’m going to want to talk to the son, as well.” Christian withdrew a cell phone from a carrying case on his belt. “I need to make some calls, so if you don’t mind bringing her here—”

  “Will you want her to go into the cabin? I’d like to prepare her, if that’s the case.”

  “Yeah. She might have a better idea than anyone at Potlatch what the professor had with him of a personal nature.”

  “About those personal items, do you think she can have a few of them?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’d better square that with the son.”

  Jay left Christian and headed toward the cabin where Winter would be staying. Part of him wished she’d go back where she’d come from so she could start to put her life back together. But the rest of him, the man part, wanted her around. Maybe because of her unsettling impact on his senses, he felt more alive than he had since before the cracks in his marriage started. He wanted to ask about her easy acceptance of Wolf. Anyone else would have thought they couldn’t have heard or seen what she had. Instead, it was as if she was grateful for the spirit’s presence. Accepting.

  Why did she have what eluded him?

  Maybe equally important, why had she placed a wolf head tattoo over her heart?

  He took a step then stopped with one foot off the ground. The back of his neck prickled. Someone was watching him.

  Instantly alert, he stopped and studied what little he could see. The longer he stood there, the less certain he was that the watcher was human—or maybe the truth was his need for the spiritual connection Winter took for granted was responsible for his thinking.

  “Are you there, Raven?” he whispered. “If you are, I open my heart to you. I’m sorry I—sorry I turned my back on you.”

  He waited, remembering when he could barely wait to be considered a man so he could begin his spirit search. Then things had changed, and, by the time he reached eighteen, he was in full rebellion mode.

  “Raven, forgive me. Don’t desert me.” About to say more, he stopped. Strained to hear.

  Hell. It wasn’t Raven. Just his desire to make the impossible happen.

  And maybe whoever law enforcement was looking for was still around.

  Was that possible? If he’d killed someone, the last thing he’d do was stay anywhere around the scene of the crime. But then he didn’t think like a criminal.

  It didn’t make any sense that someone would be watching him. If there was any danger, it would be aimed at Winter because of her close ties to Dr. Gilsdorf.

  Concern for her prompted him
to pick up his pace. A few minutes later, he reached her cabin and knocked. When she didn’t immediately respond, he knocked again, louder this time.

  “Winter,” he called. “It’s me. Are you all right?”

  “Jay? Just a minute.”

  She’d turned on one of the lamps. As a result, when she opened the door, light from behind seeped into her hair to give it red highlights.

  “What is it?” Her eyes were wide.

  Let’s go inside. “Christian wants to talk to you. I offered to come get you.”

  “He’s at Doc’s cabin?”

  “Yeah. If it bothers you too much, I’ll see if he’d talk to you in the office.”

  “No.” She ran her fingers through recently shampooed hair. “That’s all right.”

  Don’t touch her. “He’s going to ask you to look it over. He might let you take Dr. Gilsdorf’s personal items.”

  “He said that?”

  “I asked.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” Her head drooped, and she stared at her shoes. “Damn,” she whispered, “damn.”

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” When she drew herself upright, he looked for tears but didn’t see any. “I’m lying. A lot’s wrong tonight.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It isn’t your doing. I really appreciate your asking Christian what you did about Doc’s belongings.”

  “Because Dr. Gilsdorf’s that important to you?”

  “No.” She looked down again, then up. “You are.”

  Two simple words. Throwaway words. Maybe.

  “I care about you, too.” More than I had any idea I would.

  Then they were inside the cabin and together again. Steps taken by each of them. Arms extending. As he clutched her to him, her clean scent filled him, but it was more than that. Arousal.

  Hunger.

  “We shouldn’t—” she started.

  “I know,” he finished.

  He touched his lips to her forehead, between her eyes, the tip of her nose. Her fingers were fisted in his shirt at the waist, wrinkling the fabric. When he kissed her eyelids, her breathing picked up. Something surged to life inside him. He both fought and encouraged the sensation by spreading his fingers over the sides of her neck so he could hold her head steady. That accomplished, he tipped her head upward. Their mouths all but slammed together. Taking. Demanding.

  She dragged down on his shirt as if trying to force him to his knees. Even as he countered her surprising strength, he remained keenly aware of the soft woman inside her practical clothes. She might resist both him and herself, but she couldn’t get past her sexuality any more than he could stop being a man. He didn’t take advantage of her smaller body. Instead, he celebrated it as he worked his fingers under her collar.

  Her flesh was so soft! Enticing. A threat to his sanity.

  Unable to keep his hands still, he explored her as far as the damnable fabric allowed. Then, frustrated and determined, he attacked the top button. She made no effort to stop him. Instead, she freed not one, not two, but three of his shirt buttons. He wasn’t sure whose breathing was loudest, couldn’t control his. When he’d dispensed with the last button, he drew her blouse over her shoulders. He could have stripped her if she lowered her arms to her sides. Instead she clung to his shirt.

  Breathed as if she were dying.

  Another dangerous step had been taken. Their mouths continued to take and bruise. He ran his hands up and down her back, settled his fingers over her spine. The longer he held her against him, the slighter, warmer and more alive she felt. He was beyond being embarrassed by his erection. The message behind her now parted lips and the sweet tongue gliding between his said she’d fallen under the same erotic spell.

  A harsh shudder ran through him. Gripping her arms, he struggled to determine what had happened. When she ran her fingers over his waist and burned his flesh, he realized she’d pulled his shirt out of his jeans.

  She scratched him over his ribs. Wondering if her intention was to destroy him, he dragged her hands off him and placed them behind her. That done, he stopped kissing her and leaned back. The contrast between lamplight and approaching night complicated his view, but only one thing mattered—how she looked.

  The wolf tattoo just above her bra.

  “What are we doing?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.” He couldn’t stop looking at the detailed predator head. His erection continued to throb. It would until—until when?

  “Jay, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  No, they shouldn’t. Shaking with the effort, he brought her arms back in front, settled her hands against her middle and released her. His sides where she’d scratched him hummed.

  “I’m sorry.” She pulled her shirt back over her shoulders but didn’t hide the tattoo behind the fabric. “If I led you on, I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t.”

  She sighed then filled her lungs. Started re-buttoning her buttons. “I can’t focus on what just happened. Maybe—it’ll have to wait until my emotions are under control.”

  That was why she’d engaged in a little making out, so she’d have something uncomplicated to focus on. It wasn’t as if she saw him as some great stud, more like a diversion.

  Even as he tried to sell himself on the explanation, he suspected their brief groping would haunt her as long as it did him. They’d have to find a new way to interact, one that called for keeping their hands off each other.

  Somehow.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Approaching headlights in the distance told Winter that someone had just arrived at Potlatch. Much as she wanted to head for Doc’s cabin so hopefully she could put some distance between Jay and herself, she stopped. When she changed direction and headed for the office, Jay kept pace.

  “I’m guessing I know who it is,” she said. “If I’m right, I need to talk to him.”

  “You’re talking about Dr. Wilheim?”

  She nodded and kept moving. By the time they reached the parking area, a well-dressed, six-foot-plus man with long arms and legs was emerging from a vehicle. Her heart sank. “That’s him all right.”

  “It didn’t take him long to get here.”

  Even though she’d known he was on his way, she wasn’t prepared. She wondered if he’d used university or private funds to pay for his plane ticket and rental car, not that it was her business.

  “We don’t have to have that conversation tonight.”

  She nearly laughed at an image of herself hiding behind Jay. “Don’t tempt me. No, the sooner I get this over with the better.”

  Dr. Wilheim started for the office. Thanks to the still-on car headlights, she could tell he was frowning. She’d never seen Dr. Wilheim in anything except dress shoes. New-looking tennis shoes made for a strange contrast with his dark slacks and collared shirt.

  “Dr. Wilheim,” she said as he reached for the stair handhold. “I don’t believe anyone’s in there.”

  As had always been his way, Dr. Wilheim didn’t rush turning around. When she’d first met him, his overly long limbs had made her think he’d be awkward, but he wasn’t because he took care to connect with every part of his body before making a move. He was going bald, but if it bothered him, she’d never seen any sign. Prominent frown lines and creases at the corners of his mouth resulted in a somber, disapproving expression.

  “Winter.”

  Just her name, no other acknowledgment.

  “The park budget officer, Michael Simpson, told you what happened to Doc,” she said. “If you’re looking for him, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Michael left a while ago.” She glanced at Jay to see if he’d add to her comment. He didn’t, and if he ever looked at her like he was at Dr. Wilheim, she’d want nothing to do with him. Had he been this hostile toward Doc?

  “What are you doing here?” Dr. Wilheim gave no indication he was aware of Jay’s scrutiny.

  “Where else would I be?”

  He looked down his narrow n
ose at her. “You can’t have forgotten the conversation we had right before you took off. I made it clear I couldn’t spare you for more than a few days. With Anthony dead, I’d assumed you’d have given your professional responsibilities priority. Not to be insensitive, but he no longer needs you. I do.”

  “Pompous ass,” Jay whispered.

  When she’d first been assigned to him, Dr. Wilheim had intimidated her, but Doc had told her she’d better get over it, because, otherwise, Dr. Wilheim would run over her. “I can’t leave,” she told the professor. “For one, law enforcement needs to interview me.”

  “So the investigation is underway,” he said. “Michael wasn’t sure how long that would take.” He angled his body to Jay. “And you are?”

  “Jay Raven, ranger. I was nearby when Winter found Dr. Gilsdorf’s body.”

  For the first time, Dr. Wilheim looked less than confident. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him like that.

  “Do you know Michael?” she asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. This is far from the first time I’ve been to Olympic.”

  She was aware of that. What surprised her was that Dr. Wilheim hadn’t said anything earlier. Neither had Doc. “When were you here before?”

  He extended his arms. “Don’t question me. What matters are the circumstances that brought me here today.”

  Even though she’d rather be doing just about anything other than listening to his sharp tone, she nodded. “It’s a long day for you.” Me too.

  “It certainly is. I’ll be staying at a motel in Olympia, but I wanted to come to Potlatch before I settled in. So Michael isn’t around. I don’t suppose you can tell me where Booth Deavers is.”

  “He spends much of the summer at the Lake Quinault Lodge so I suggest you start there. That’s where the library is located,” Jay said.

  She wondered how many people Dr. Wilheim had interacted with during his visits and why.

  Dr. Wilheim waved bony fingers at Jay. “I’m aware of that. He was here today, right?”

  “Yes,” she said.