Howl Deadly

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Howl Deadly Page 21

by Linda O. Johnston


  “You found her!” His exclamation was full of excitement. “Where was she? Is she okay? Hey, this is great! Of course, I’ll watch her for a few hours. But why aren’t you bringing her right back to her babies?” At the last, he turned to glare at me as if I was mistreating mama wolf even more. Which, sad to say, I might be doing, but there was a good reason for it, and the additional delay would amount to only a short while.

  “Have you ever heard of the Amazing Animal Farm?” I asked without exactly answering his question directly.

  “I think so. Don’t they provide a petting zoo of sorts for local events?” His puzzled expression could be feigned, of course, but I didn’t believe it was.

  “That’s it. Anyway, mama wolf has been there all this time.” I had no answers to his demands about whether the owners were alive, hadn’t they listened to the news about the missing wolf, and the same kinds of questions that I had tried to obtain answers to from Esta at the farm. And what little I did know, or suspect, I wasn’t about to enlighten him with.

  Instead, I encouraged him to prepare a place for mama for a little while. Dante and Warren carried the crate, and we used the same kind of treats we had used previously to lure this suspicious, wild canine out of the crate and into her fenced temporary motel.

  And then, after again thanking Warren profusely, Dante, Megan, and I headed to HotWildlife.

  WE MADE OUR calls quickly and calmly, waking up nearly everyone except the staff already onsite. And then I made an extra call.

  Brody, who’d gone back to Dante’s to rest after their grueling session with the sheriff’s department, soon showed up at HotWildlife to help us see to the animals’ needs without the people who were usually there.

  Just before dawn, Dante and Megan headed back to Warren Beell’s place for our newfound rescue wolf. When they returned, we immediately put her in the infirmary enclosure with her babies, who’d only recently been fed.

  “Is she likely to have any milk to feed them?” I asked Megan.

  “Doubtful, after all this time not having them nurse. And we need to keep them under strict observation to ensure she isn’t going to harm them. She may not relate to them as hers anymore.”

  But, thankfully, that did not turn out to be the case. Mama looked suspicious when the little ones squeaked their ways over to her. Their eyes were open now, but they would recognize their mother by her scent instead of by sight.

  She sniffed them, too. Nuzzled at them. Growled a little as they nipped at her.

  And then she lay down and started licking one after the other.

  “That’s so beautiful,” I said with a sigh.

  “And a big relief, too,” Megan agreed.

  THE FIRST EMPLOYEES we summoned back to HotWildlife were some of Jon Doe’s closest coworkers—the other caretakers. On their entry into the sanctuary, Megan sent them to the infirmary, saying there was some work to do there, transporting some food for the sometimes ailing inhabitants.

  Three of them arrived at the same time. More would come later. The only one I’d talked to directly was Paul, but Dante and Brody, who were also present, had spoken with the other two about their opinions of Jon Doe.

  The men entered the outer area of the infirmary in their work clothes, chatting quietly among themselves, obviously uneasy and a little curious about what was going on. I motioned them to the glass outside the baby wolf habitat.

  All three looked inside. “Hey!” Paul said. “She’s back! Where was she?” A familiar question, and it was repeated by the rest. “She looks good. Did someone take care of her?”

  “We think so,” I said, without answering the rest.

  I watched them all carefully for any sign of discomfort or knowledge or fear, but everything appeared aboveboard in their reactions. Each seemed pleased to see mama, and all were eager to get back to helping care for her.

  “Nothing there that I could see,” I said to Dante and Brody after they’d left.

  “Not exactly the most scientific or legally admissible evidence,” Brody said dryly, “but I have to concur.”

  Dante just nodded. “Who’s next?”

  A few of the off-and-on employees were asked to come in, and their reactions turned out to be similar.

  Which left the entire roster of frequent sanctuary visitors—and the volunteers. Of course we’d start with the latter, since they were easiest to identify and contact.

  We had confirmed that mama had no milk to feed her babies, so I happily stepped in to assist in that task.

  They were furrier now, and squirmier, too. Sitting in the back room, I hugged my sweet puppy charge. I knew she would not be handled so much by people as soon as she was weaned. She’d revert to wildness. But for now, I basked in her playful puppy warmth.

  It was midafternoon by the time the regular volunteers started trickling in. The first to arrive was Irwin Overland. As a visitor-turned-volunteer, had he developed a belief that he knew more about how to care for the animals than the real staff did?

  But his delighted reaction on seeing mama reunited with pups took him off the top of my list. And this sweet, gangly guy didn’t seem the type to have offed Jon Doe for any reason, even considering their minor disagreement. Once again, not exactly the most useful opinion for exoneration, but that was how my instincts led me.

  Anthony Pfalzer, the guy with the football player physique, came in along with Krissy Kollings. He could have wrestled a wolf into a crate to take her to the Amazing Animal Farm. He’d already been questioned in depth by the sheriff’s department, who seemed not to consider him a significant suspect in the slaying—even though he, too, had engaged in a minor verbal disagreement with Doe. Even so, the two crimes could actually be unrelated, despite what I had assumed from Gibson Callaway’s otherwise useful clue.

  And Krissy? She bugged me, but mostly because of the way she hung on Dante’s every word, not to mention his hand. I didn’t think she’d have either the interest or the stamina to steal a wolf, let alone kill a man. She looked like a pretty airhead, even carried a bigger purse than mine, probably full of makeup instead of stuff to care for pets and take notes with (like me).

  But I watched them both as Dante motioned them to look inside the glass-fronted enclosure. I edged closer to him, considering taking his hand to irk Krissy.

  “Is that the missing wolf?” Anthony asked. “Awesome!” was his response when I confirmed it. He put his nose to the glass and observed the ongoing reunion inside.

  But Krissy … Her pretty twenty-something face froze. “Where was she?” she demanded, obviously attempting to get her expression under control. But as I watched, she seemed to melt. Even her curls seemed to come unglued.

  “Why don’t you tell me?” I asked, oh, so casually. I darted a glance at Dante and Brody. Had they gotten it, too?

  This was our wolfnapper. Could she be a killer, too? Guess we’d have to figure that out.

  “How would I know?” she asked with a shrug. And then, edging past me, she slinked her curvy body, clad in tight jeans and an even tighter yellow knit shirt, toward Dante’s. “Isn’t it wonderful that she’s back? I can’t wait to watch her play more with the pups. We could watch her together, Dante.”

  “Oh, I doubt it,” he said. “I suspect that Sergeant Hura will be talking with you for a while about her disappearance.” Dante’s smile toward her held absolutely no warmth.

  “What do you mean?” Krissy demanded, all defensive huffiness all of a sudden. “Why would he want to talk to me?”

  “I think you know that, too,” I said. “Since you’re the one who got the wolf away from here in the first place. I’d love to know how you did it. And why, as well. Oh, and did Jon Doe happen to see you? Was he trying to blackmail you, or—”

  “You’ve got it all wrong!” she screamed. “I only wanted Dante to notice me, and I thought that he and I could ‘find’ the wolf together. Only, you were so pushy, Kendra, and he couldn’t see past you. And then I learned that Jon Doe was here for all
sorts of underhanded reasons, so I had to protect Dante.” She had reached his side, and looked up at him beseechingly. “I did it all for you.”

  “You should have asked me if I wanted you to,” he said calmly, shaking his head. “You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble.”

  “You bastard!” she screamed. “You only wanted her! That’s why I decided to make it look like you killed Doe.” And before any of us realized what she was doing, she extracted a wicked-looking knife from her purse and drove it into Dante’s chest.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “NO!” I SCREAMED.

  “Hell, no,” shouted Brody, bounding toward us, aiming a gun.

  My scream must have sounded outside as well, since Jeff, too, lunged in with a weapon pointed. Yes, my extra phone call had been to him, requesting his assistance with the animals, if needed—he’s an all-purpose handy sort, in addition to his security expertise.

  Good thing they were both armed, since Krissy next seemed interested in stabbing me. I tried to ignore her as much as possible, though, as I sank to the floor beside Dante. The two armed guys immediately got her under control, facedown on the floor, as she shrieked obscenities and attempted to roll away.

  “I’m calling 911!” shouted Anthony, bless him.

  And beside us, from inside the glass enclosure, came a series of eerie wolf howls.

  Dante was bleeding, but his eyes were open, and he smiled at me as I started unbuttoning his shirt. “Keep going,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, she just grazed me. I anticipated who we were after and what she might do, so I moved just enough to prevent being badly hurt.”

  I blinked at him. “You knew who it was, and didn’t tell me?” Well, hell. There was a lot that he’d known that he’d chosen to keep to himself. But why this?

  “I didn’t know, but I did suspect.” His voice was weaker now, and I saw he was fighting to stay conscious. The brave S.O.B.! Maybe he didn’t think he was badly hurt, but that term was definitely relative.

  “Why?” I demanded. “And how?” I was no longer watching his face, though. Instead, I bared the big slash along his side—how deep was it?—and peeled his shirt further away. I grabbed onto the only thing I could think of to stem his bleeding. No time to find something sterile, but I’d put on my white T-shirt only that morning. I lifted it quickly over my head, and held it against Dante’s wound.

  “Keep going,” he whispered, then slipped into unconsciousness.

  NO SENSE GOING any further into the emotions of the next few hours. Suffice it to say that I was a wreck.

  I almost welcomed the inquisition Sergeant Frank Hura laid on me much later, at the hospital, after Krissy was taken into custody. By then, I’d already ascertained that Dante’s wound was, in fact, not life-threatening, like he’d said. No major organs had been punctured, although he’d lost even more blood by the time the EMTs arrived, despite my stanching efforts.

  Brody had given me his shirt to wear. He and I had followed the ambulance to the local hospital, and we did all we could to ensure Dante was treated well. Jeff met us there. I had to admit that he had been not only an excellent backup, but also utterly emotionally supportive. He was really there for me, even as he had to realize he was helping me cope with an injury to his rival for my affections.

  But Jeff wasn’t stupid. He left as soon as the doctors assured us that Dante would be okay. “I’ll call you, Kendra,” he said.

  Brody was there till Frank Hura arrived. Frank took him aside first for his statement. And then he asked for mine.

  We sat in the lobby area outside the emergency room; Dante was in a small room for treatment.

  “So you did it again, Kendra,” Frank said with a frown. The large Homicide Detail detective appeared a bit deflated. “Ned Noralles warned me it would happen—that you’d solve this murder case before I did.”

  “I’m just lucky that way, I guess,” I answered with irony I hoped was obvious.

  “I’ve gotten a little about what went on from the others who were there—Megan Zurich, Anthony Pfalzer, and Brody Avilla.” He glanced down at a pad of paper in his lap, as if to assure himself he had gotten their names right. “They’ve all said that you were instrumental in getting Ms. Kollings to show her hand that way.” He aimed an angry glare at me. “Foolish, you know. You could have gotten killed. As it is, Mr. DeFrancisco was wounded.”

  I noticed that he had spoken Dante’s name formally and with obvious deference, now that the megamillionaire was no longer a murder suspect. I kept myself from smiling at that. I didn’t need to antagonize this cop, even now.

  “I’m not sure I was instrumental in anything,” I said, not trying to be modest—just diplomatic. And careful. I obviously couldn’t reveal the entire story, since it could give up the identity of someone I’d promised to protect from the news media, at least as much as I could. And he’d earned my compliance. “I simply was fortunate enough to find our missing wolf. I didn’t know for certain that the person who had taken her away without authorization had also murdered Jon Doe, but by not revealing her return to the sanctuary ahead of time, I was hoping to get a reaction from the thief that would give him or her away. And that worked.”

  “Did you know who it was in advance?” Frank asked, making notes.

  “Not really, although I had my suspicions.”

  “So how did you know where the wolf was, so you could go retrieve her?”

  Now I was in delicate territory. “I got an anonymous tip, in a phone call.” Okay, so I lied to a cop. And I knew he’d have ways to check calls that had come in to any and all of my phones.

  Sure enough, he asked, “On which phone? Was caller ID blocked?”

  I told him it came in on a landline at my law office, and, yes, there was no way I could see who it was or where it had come from. And, no, I didn’t really know why anyone would call me at all, let alone there, with the information. Shouldn’t it have come in to the sanctuary itself?

  Anyway, I explained how I’d followed up, found mama wolf, then come up with this way of getting the perpetrator to react in a way that gave away her guilt, which had happened.

  “And you’re right,” I remarked remorsefully. “It was foolish, in a way, even though I had a P.I. friend outside for security. I feel responsible for Dante’s getting stabbed.”

  I must have looked as guilty as I honestly did feel, since the sergeant said soothingly, “It’s not entirely your fault. Dante’s going to be fine. And you did manage to get our suspect to confess, and not just to stealing a wolf.”

  I nodded. “As much as I like that mama wolf, I’m even prouder of helping to unearth the murderer.”

  “You’re everything Ned said, Kendra,” said Sergeant Hura. “I have to chew you out for your interference of course, and for not keeping us fully informed, but unofficially, I want to thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, purposely not tossing out the common response of “any time.”

  “Oh, and by the way,” he said, “we’re looking into it further, but we understand that the owners of the Amazing Animal Farm, where the wolf was stashed, are distant relatives of Ms. Kollings. So far, they’re not cooperating much in our investigation, but hopefully that will change.”

  Interesting. No wonder Esta didn’t cooperate much with me, either. I’d imagine, though, that the worst she thought she had gotten herself into was wolfnapping, not being an accessory to murder.

  Frank left soon afterward, and I assured him I’d be available whenever he needed more official statements, or testimony at Krissy Kollings’ trial, whenever that might be.

  I had a sense that the sergeant was satisfied with what he had found out from me, at least for now.

  But I still had a lot of questions I intended to lob at Dante as soon as he felt better.

  In a way, he owed me a whole slew of answers.

  BUT NOT NOW. Taking a deep breath, I headed back to the emergency room, afraid of what I might find there.

  Was Dant
e really okay? Surely someone would have come to get me if there’d been any change in his condition. Brody, at least. I wasn’t a relative, so the hospital staff wouldn’t especially care whether I was worried about the man who’d been stabbed.

  I recognized then how worried I actually was. Like it or not, Dante had become damned important to me. He could have died when Krissy stabbed him. And then what would I have done?

  Thank heavens, I didn’t have to think about that. He was still propped up in the same tiny examining room’s bed, and he grinned broadly when I burst in. Brody sat in a chair beside him.

  “Kendra! You’re back. I thought you might have left.”

  “Only to answer Frank Hura’s questions,” I said. Dante’s color was good, and he looked essentially okay, if I ignored the white hospital gown and the IV stuff stuck into him. He had a sheet up around him, so I couldn’t see the bandage on his side. “So, what’s next? Are they going to admit you to the hospital, or release you?”

  “I’m staying at least overnight for observation,” he said, not looking particularly pleased about it. “They want to make sure there’s no infection, and all that.”

  “Good idea.” I considered bombarding him with some of the questions I still had about the situation, but figured they’d wait till he was out of there.

  “You ready to leave, Kendra, and let this malingerer rest?” Brody asked, his face as expressionless as if he was serious. But, hey, he was an actor.

  “Yeah, let’s let this big baby play his crying games with the hospital staff. See you tomorrow, Dante.”

  And only when I was in the car with Brody did I let loose and cry.

  THAT NIGHT, IN Dante’s classy cabin near the mountains, Lexie hovered near me as if she knew exactly how upset I was, sweet pup that she is.

  I was so exhausted that I actually got a little sleep. Brody and I headed back to the hospital fairly early, and I saw that Dante was in pain despite his meds. I hung around to give him moral support, and decided my questions could still wait.

 

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