Howl Deadly

by Linda O. Johnston

  “Fascinating animals,” he said. “Sneaky and sly as all get-out. Predators of the highest magnitude.” He looked at me and smiled, but his glance seemed to slide over my shoulder before returning to meet mine.

  “Oh, but they’re great survivors,” said Jon Doe from behind me.

  “Sure are,” Dante said. “But they need a pack to watch their backs.”

  I looked over at Megan, who stood between the two men. Her expression mirrored the confusion I felt. Were these guys saying something unrelated to coyotes? I thought so, but I couldn’t imagine what that was about. Krissy, on the other hand, seemed unable to decide whether to stare at Dante or Brody, and her eyes moved from one to the other. Was she clueless about anything other than her apparent dual crushes? Who knew?

  “Anyway, not much more we can do here tonight—as long as you have enough people around to feed the pups.” Dante looked inquiringly at Megan, who nodded.

  “I’m staying!” Krissy announced. Jon Doe didn’t say anything, but I felt sure that, with his dedication to the place, he’d be around as well.

  “Great,” Brody said. “I’ve got some computer work to do tonight. But I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to see how else I can help while we wait for Wagner.”

  “Who’s that?” Krissy inquired.

  “Dante’s dog,” I said. I explained why he was on his way.

  We said our good evenings and departed. Dante drove his car toward his cabin, and Brody followed.

  By the time we arrived, I was ready to strangle Dante. He had responded to all my questions about any undercurrent in their comments with absolute innocence, along with incredulity at my suspicions.

  I didn’t buy it.

  Chapter Four

  A WHILE LATER, we three were ensconced back at Dante’s mountain retreat. We’d stopped for dinner at a sandwich shop along the highway, and now each of us sipped from a stein of icy amber beer we’d brought back.

  At least Dante and I did, as we sat in front of his big-screen TV in the vast yet comfortable living room. Brody had excused himself and headed for the office at the far end of the posh cabin’s first floor. Which made me mighty curious.

  I knew full well that Dante and Brody had a secret history together, and suspected it had something to do with the military—maybe the K-9 corps, which was what showed up on Dante’s incomplete official bio posted at the HotPets Web site. Or some kind of security ops. Whatever. My assumption now was that the hot actor Brody was not online scouting for upcoming entertainment industry gigs, but for something to do with the lost mama wolf. Would someone post a notice on a secure site about finding a stray, prowling wolf in this area?

  Or was it something else Brody was after?

  The curiosity drove me crazy. But I did my utmost to act normal with Dante as we watched a reality show where people competed by pruning plants into exotic and interesting topiary designs. Of course, I preferred the ones that resembled animals. No wolves, but an elephant, an iguana, and even a potbellied pig.

  “They look like some of your clients you’ve described,” Dante said. We were snuggled up together on his lush leather sofa. He had an arm around me, and I’d laid my head on his shoulder. A sweet and serene moment, sure, but I couldn’t help being sexually aware of this really handsome and hot guy.

  “I’ve never taken care of an elephant,” I contradicted. Iguanas and pigs? Sure.

  “So which of those pseudo artists do you think will win?” he asked.

  “I’d vote for the one who snipped out the big, beautiful heart,” I said.

  “Hearts are supposed to be red,” he countered. “Not fuzzy green plants.”

  “Maybe, but—”

  I didn’t finish, since Brody suddenly appeared in the doorway. He looked like he had something on his mind.

  “Find something interesting?” Dante pulled away slightly as I lifted my head from his stiffening shoulder. I looked at him. Whatever he was hoping to hear was clearly important to him, considering how he stared so pointedly at Brody.

  Brody aimed a glance in my direction. “Possibly,” he said. “Some ideas on how else to look for the missing wolf.”

  “Right. Let’s go talk about it.” Dante rose and strode across the room.

  I stood, too. I absolutely wanted to assist in locating mama wolf.

  “Er—how about getting us another beer, Kendra?” Dante nodded toward his empty stein on the long, low coffee table, where we’d been resting our feet.

  Obvious translation: this was a guy thing, a conversation to which I wasn’t invited.

  Which definitely suggested to me that mama wolf wasn’t the topic. At least not the only topic.

  What was going on? And why was I being excluded?

  With a shrug, I picked up our mugs and headed to the kitchen.

  But when I got there, I slowly and silently squeezed my back against the wall and sneaked into the hall. I heard hushed male voices from the den that doubled as an office. Big surprise. Brody obviously had shared the result of his research with Dante, and they were discussing it.

  As quietly as I could, I went toward the office. I didn’t hear much discernible, except something that sounded like “Jon Doe.”

  I’d gotten a sense, at HotWildlife, of an undercurrent among the men, but hadn’t known what it was. Still didn’t.

  Did Dante and Brody think the sanctuary’s employee had something to do with the wolf’s disappearance? If so, why? To show off his nurturing skills with the pups?

  Made no sense to me.

  I heard some stirring, like the men were on the move, so I quietly hustled my bod back into the kitchen, where I opened more beer bottles and poured out the brew as if absolutely thrilled with the assignment.

  As Dante and Brody entered the room, I handed Dante his refilled stein. “Where’s your glass, Brody?” I asked. “Do you want more beer?”

  “Sure,” he said. “It’s in the den.”

  “I’ll get it,” I said brightly, excited about the idea of an excuse to get into the room for a quick look at the computer.

  “Don’t bother.” Brody hurried his movie-star self out of the kitchen toward the den.

  “So, did he find something helpful about mama wolf?” I asked Dante.

  “Not as much as I’d hoped,” he replied cryptically, then lifted his glass to his lips.

  Which I watched. I loved his talented lips. And not especially for the use of sipping beer. My insides steamed, if only for an instant. And then Brody was back with his mug. I refilled it with a bright, if false, smile.

  Okay, so I enjoyed watching Dante. Liked Brody’s company, too, as we all strolled into the living room and sat back down. Watched more of the reality show, followed by a flip of channels to financial news.

  To which I paid little attention.

  What I really wanted was to go into the den and check out the computer.

  DAMNED IF I didn’t get my opportunity a little later. The men, clearly chomping at the bit to continue their conversation, eventually excused themselves to go outside. “Brody and I need to talk about some ideas I have for Animal Auditions,” Dante said.

  “I’d love to brainstorm about it,” I replied.

  “It’s about my financial backing and other stuff I think you’ll find boring.”

  “Could be.” I doubted it, although I also doubted they really intended to discuss Animal Auditions. And so I let them head out to the rustic front porch, illuminated by lantern-shaped lights, without me.

  The porch was in the front, and its windows into the house opened onto an entryway. That meant they couldn’t see me leave the living room and sprint down the hall toward the den.

  A good thing.

  Just in case, I didn’t turn on the light but saw what I could from the hall’s glow behind me—enough to get me to the desk, where I pressed a key to waken the computer from sleep mode.

  Not surprisingly, only the desktop showed. I got onto the Internet—this far from civilization, Dante had pa
id for a satellite connection—and checked the list of sites Brody had visited. To my delight and surprise, he hadn’t had the foresight to delete his browsing history.

  But the Web sites listed didn’t make a lot of sense to me. One was something called bop.gov. I clicked on it—and learned that it was the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Another involved the U.S. Treasury. There were a couple that concerned wolves and their habitats, which was unsurprising.

  The screen also showed that Brody had Googled Jon Doe.

  I was almost as confused after seeing this as I’d been before accessing the computer.

  Hearing the front door open, I hurried out, hoping no one would duck into the den before the computer transferred back to sleep mode. I headed down the hall to the nearest bathroom, as an excuse not to be in the kitchen or in front of the TV.

  Even as my mind continued to spin in curiosity and confusion.

  LATER, I CONSIDERED pressing Dante with pillow talk to extort some answers. Sex in exchange for information? Well, no. I’m not that kind of woman. Sex, yes. Holding out for an unrelated request? No.

  So, the next morning, I felt sensuously sated as we got ready to head to HotWildlife. While Dante showered, I finished dressing. I went into the kitchen for a glass of fruit juice poured by one of the housekeepers who showed up each morning to ensure the place was perfect. As I thanked her and started sipping, my cell phone rang, and I recognized the number right away.

  “Hi, Rachel,” I said. “Where are you?”

  “Just getting off the freeway. I should be at HotWildlife in twenty minutes.”

  “Sounds good. We may be there a little later.”

  But not by much. I saw Rachel standing by the front entrance with Dante’s dear Wagner as the three of us— Dante, Brody and I—pulled into the partly filled parking lot about a half hour after our conversation. I grinned and waved. Rachel waved back and approached us.

  “Does this entitle me to a tour of HotWildlife?” she asked as she handed Wagner’s leash to Dante. Rachel had recently turned twenty. When I first met her, she’d been trespassing in my large, rented-out house—kinda. Her dad was my tenant, and neither he nor I expected his offspring to move in while he was out of town.

  But he’d welcomed her, and she and I had become good buddies—so much so that I’d hired her as my backup caregiver at my pet-sitting service, Critter TLC, LLC. She thrived at it. And as a wannabe actress, she wasn’t doing too badly, either—often off on auditions and occasional roles—and she was doing a great job as on-air hostess of Animal Auditions. In fact, a good percentage of the people part of our cast was now here, with Brody around.

  Rachel was waiflike, with huge brown eyes that glowed now with anticipation. She was dressed, as she often was off-screen, in jeans and a short T-shirt.

  “Private tour coming up,” I told her, glancing at Dante for confirmation. He nodded, and we all went in, waving at the volunteer who manned the entry booth. Inside, there were already quite a few visitors strolling the sanctuary’s pathways to see the wild populace.

  “Can I see the wolf pups first?” Rachel asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “We’ll all go to the infirmary, where they’re being cared for. That’s where Wagner is most likely to pick up the scent of their missing mama. Right, Dante?”

  “We’ll start there,” he confirmed, “to see if he senses anything. If not, we’ll go to the enclosure where she stayed when she first got here, before the pups were born.”

  We passed the main office building, just as Megan Zurich exited, clad in casual jeans and a HotWildlife T-shirt. She smiled at Wagner but warned, “Better try to keep him calm and not too close to the habitats, or we’ll have a lot of stressed-out animals here.”

  “Got it,” Dante agreed.

  At the infirmary, I accompanied Rachel inside, and we watched while Dante and Brody encouraged Wagner to sniff around the comfortable enclosed area where the mama had given birth. The pups were nearby, in an even more comfy nest where a warming pad had been added below the surface, in a simulation of mother’s heat. At the moment, the babies were alone, but I noticed Jon Doe in the rear area, apparently concocting their next nutrition.

  I oohed and ahhed over them for a few minutes along with Rachel, while Dante and Brody followed Wagner, whose nose was to the concrete floor. His presence was duly noted by other infirmary inhabitants, judging by the nervous reaction of the aging coyote and young raccoons. He soon headed toward the rear exit, and I followed. Was he tracking mama’s scent as she slipped out of HotWildlife?

  Could be, since he continued down the main outdoor path between the large habitats of the other wild inhabitants. We passed some visitors who eyed us curiously, but we offered no explanation for the German shepherd or his entourage. I heard lots of rustles and growls from beastly residents as they, too, noted the presence of the calm, tracking canine.

  At the far end of the sanctuary, Wagner stopped at the closed gate and growled. It was a locked barrier, but Megan, who’d also trailed us, used a key to get it open.

  To no avail. Once Wagner was outside, he apparently lost the scent. Maybe someone with a car had scooped up mama wolf. Maybe there were simply too many other aromas that confused poor Wagner. He sat down and stared up at Dante in seeming dejection, as if aware of how important his assignment had been to the man he adored.

  We all trooped back to the infirmary, Wagner included. “In a few minutes, I’ll take him to the area where the wolf was before giving birth,” Dante said. “But first I’ll let him retrace this path in case he missed an area where she veered off.”

  When we got back inside, Jon Doe, Krissy, and Anthony all held wolf pups and their bottles. A crowd of visitors had gathered to watch outside the glass, all with emotional smiles. Jon gave what seemed like an impromptu educational lecture.

  “In a few weeks,” he said loudly, to be heard where we were, “if their mother isn’t located, we’ll have to prepare special food to wean them. Wild wolves eat meals generally composed of their own prey, then regurgitate it so their pups can start learning the tastes. I’d rather let my own food digest, so we’ll try something else to feed them.”

  “I’ll bet the suppliers of HotPets products can come up with something,” said Krissy, who’d spotted Dante, and smiled at him as if he could do absolutely anything.

  Which, maybe, he could—at least when it came to finding ideal animal supplies.

  He smiled back at her. For an instant, I wanted to kick him so he’d remember my presence. But if he wanted to react to Krissy’s obvious adoration, that was between them.

  Even if it irritated the hell out of me.

  Anthony had apparently been primed to participate in the lecture, too, since he inserted some comments about how the baby wolves felt in his arms. It seemed utterly adorable to me to see this large high school football player type being so sweet to such tiny animals. In fact, I’d learned he actually was a football player who was hoping for a college scholarship soon.

  Anthony compared the wolflet he held with a domesticated canine pup. He was large enough that hanging onto the small animal seemed nearly a juggling act to him, a little awkward but absolutely tender. “When they’re this little,” he announced, “they don’t know they’re wild animals yet. Or at least they don’t act any wilder than the babies of any pet dog. But when they start getting weaned, they sometimes bite the face that feeds them. Of course their wild mothers quickly show them who’s the alpha of their little pack, but she wants them to learn to fend for themselves.”

  I stayed with Rachel in the observing crowd as Dante and Brody left once more with Wagner. They soon returned, just as the pups finished their bottles. I watched as Dante took Wagner into the room behind the nesting area, where supplies were kept. Jon Doe was there, too, and Krissy and Anthony joined them.

  Only, Anthony looked pissed. He aimed a glare toward Doe, and I saw his fists clench before he stomped away.

  “What was that about?” I asked, curious, as I
caught up with him.

  “The guy’s nuts,” Anthony responded, not, at this moment, the easygoing big guy I’d thought he was. “He’s told me I can’t feed the pups anymore. Said I’m too big, liable to drop one. But I’m always careful.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I soothed, but when I looked around to see if I could smooth things over with Jon Doe, I saw him exchange a look with Dante that I simply couldn’t read. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I suspected he wasn’t conveying the same message I’d intended.

  Brody stayed in the observation area with Rachel and me and the rest of the onlookers, who had just started to disperse. “I’m heading back to L.A. tonight,” he told us.

  “Me, too,” Rachel said.

  “So are we,” I told Brody. “Or at least Dante said we’d go home if Wagner didn’t come up with something for us to follow up on. From what I saw, he didn’t.”

  “Finding something else is my assignment, too.” Brody sounded grim.

  “Do you think there’s something going on around here that resulted in the disappearance of the wolf?” I attempted to assume an air of total innocence. “I mean, a wolfnapping or someone trying to make HotWildlife look bad … or anything else?”

  Brody shrugged his movie-star shoulders beneath his green knit shirt. “Who knows?”

  You might know, I thought, but he clearly wasn’t going to give me any guesses.

  We hung around through most of the day. Dante only became more frustrated as he attempted to use Wagner’s services to find a mama wolf clue. I accompanied Rachel to the paths outside the various wild animals’ habitats, and we both had an enjoyable time observing. Midday, I slipped back into the infirmary and successfully begged Megan to let Rachel and me give the pups their bottles.

  I didn’t pay a lot of attention, but I noticed Jon Doe moving all over the sanctuary, doing his caretaking duties.

  By the end of the day, a lot more visitors had come through the sanctuary’s gates. Rachel left, wanting to hurry home to retrieve Lexie from doggy daycare and help with the evening’s pet-sitting, and I thanked her again for all she’d done.