Belinda Blake and the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by Heather Day Gilbert

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  My face made some strange crumpling movement, and I couldn’t push words out. Instead of driving off, Red just sat there patiently with the car idling.

  Finally, I was able to articulate something. “A tour guide died today. We found him in the wolf enclosure.”

  Red’s expression shifted from disbelief to horror, then finally settled into outrage. “Surely you won’t be going back, then?”

  “I have to. They really are shorthanded and everything’s so up in the air—”

  “I’ll be forced to report this to Mister Stone,” Red said, and I knew he meant Stone the fifth.

  “And why would you do that?” I asked. “There’s no need to bother him over there in Bhutan.”

  Red shook his head as he pulled out. “I promised to keep him posted on any situations that could jeopardize your safety while he is gone.”

  I laughed. “What’s he going to do about it? Assign you as my bodyguard on those dangerous jobs?”

  Red didn’t even smile.

  My deepest suspicions rose to the surface. “Red…what exactly is your job title?”

  He ignored my question. “Should I drop you at the garage so you can pick up your car?”

  I’d forgotten all about that. “Sure, that would be great.” I was tempted to add “bodyguard,” but I restrained myself.

  * * * *

  The fully repaired Bluebell was running like a top as I pulled onto Putnam Avenue and grabbed supper from a drive-through. Usually, I’d take the time to cook something, but today every last bit of my emotional energy was spent. I just wanted to crash and play video games.

  As I kicked back on the couch, indulging in a cherry Dr Pepper, I loaded up my new role-playing game. Companies sent me early copies for review, and so far, I’d really enjoyed the story world on this one. However, the moment I leveled up and found out I had to fight off wolves in an extremely realistic forest, I shut it down.

  Maybe I’d play another day.

  Maybe I wouldn’t.

  Adding to my despondency was the knowledge that Shaun had been the first of my avid gamer fans I’d ever met in real life. I could hardly imagine how Sergeant Hardy had informed Shaun’s parents of what had happened—it was just so unthinkable. I supposed his parents could always try to sue Dahlia, but given the exhaustive terms of our employee contracts, I doubted they could win.

  I grabbed the uneaten half of my chicken wrap, donned my coat, and walked around to my back patio. It was about forty-five degrees, but the sun was hitting the table straight-on, so heat radiated from it.

  My daffodils provided colorful pockets of cheer against the monochromatic stone wall that lined my backyard. I was about to pick a bouquet when my cell phone rang.

  It was Jonas.

  I hesitated, letting it ring again. Should I tell him what had happened today? I hadn’t even told my parents yet, but Katrina was calling tonight, so that meant I’d have to let them know before she did.

  I picked up, still uncertain, but the moment Jonas said my name in his relaxed, assured voice, I decided to tell him about Shaun.

  “Belinda, I’m glad I caught you. What’s new? Your mom said you got a new job?”

  I always thought it was adorable how my mom loved to talk up my accomplishments to every neighbor who would listen.

  And Jonas always listened.

  I briefly told him how I’d wound up with the unexpected wolf-sitting position. When Jonas didn’t overreact, I went on to described my first day on the job—starting with the discovery of Shaun’s body in the wolf enclosure.

  Once I finished speaking, there was complete silence. I asked Jonas if he was still on the line.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m here. So what’s next? Are you going back or quitting?”

  I liked that he didn’t assume I would have immediately turned in my resignation. “I’m going back. Dahlia couldn’t find anyone else to fill in, and Rich has to get a house ready for his daughter, who’s getting married soon, so he doesn’t have time—”

  “It’s okay—you don’t have to explain things to me. I was just thinking…I’ll be heading down to New York City early Saturday morning. I have quite a bit of honey and maple syrup to sell at a Brooklyn green market. I’ve booked a bed-and-breakfast for Saturday night, since I planned to sell until the end of the day. But I’ll be free that evening. You want me to swing by your place?”

  It was at least a one-hour “swing” from Brooklyn to Greenwich, but it would be a delight to show Jonas around the posh town and my little carriage house. Although his words were casual, like he didn’t care if I agreed to a visit or not, there was a barely discernible note of hopefulness in his voice that gave me a little thrill.

  I could hardly temper my excitement. “Of course! I’d love that! Saturday evening? And don’t eat supper. I want to feed you.”

  He laughed. “No arguments here. I’m sure I’ll be hungry from peddling my wares all day, and I know what a great cook you are. I still remember that stuffed chicken you brought over when Mom was getting radiation.” His voice grew serious. “But are you sure you want to stick it out with this wolf-sitting job? Of course, you’re not a newb to animal life since your dad’s a vet—that’s one of the things I like about you—but do they make you feed the wolves by yourself?”

  His “one of the things I like about you” comment swept like an electric charge down my spine. Jonas wasn’t the type to throw compliments around, so when he did, I knew it wasn’t idle flattery.

  I groped around for an answer to the question I hardly recalled. “Um, yeah. I mean, no. Today I did the water while Rich fed the wolves, so I wasn’t alone in the enclosure. Then, after we found Shaun, I just fed the hobby farm animals and didn’t go back into the wolf fences.” I tried to cover my wordy fumblings. “Speaking of your mom, how’s she doing?”

  Although Jonas’s mom had finished chemo and radiation for her stage three breast cancer late last year, I hadn’t heard if there were more treatments on the horizon. Jonas was his mom’s primary caregiver, since he was the one to move into the family farmhouse a few years ago when his dad had died.

  There was a pregnant pause. My stomach clenched as I realized what he was probably going to say.

  “It didn’t work,” he said simply. “It’s spread.”

  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I recalled all the times I’d visited Naomi Hawthorne’s house on errands for my mom. Naomi always had me sit down over a cup of coffee and a freshly baked goodie so we could chat about whatever happened to be weighing on my mind. She had a stillness and a patient way about her that pulled me in, unlike my perpetually enterprising mom.

  I groped for words. “I’m so sorry…be sure to call my parents if you need help with anything.”

  “We will.” His voice lightened, and he asked how my book club reading was going. Our classic this month was The Great Gatsby, which had thankfully been a short and nondemanding read, given my new job.

  “I don’t like Daisy Buchanan,” I said.

  “You wouldn’t,” he responded.

  “She’s so…”

  “Helpless? Fake? Manipulative?”

  “I don’t know. Just boring. It’s like she can’t commit, you know? Either stay with your ogre husband or leave him for the enigmatic yet adoring man from your past. Don’t be so wishy-washy.”

  Jonas chuckled. “If there’s one thing you’re not, Belinda Jade Blake, it’s wishy-washy.”

  It was disarming and kind of enchanting to hear Jonas use my full name. Jade was my mom’s nature-loving homage to her favorite stone, and oddly enough, it had stirred my interest in rocks and gemstones. Dad always told me that my eyes were the same color as jade. When I was a teen, he’d given me a jade bracelet, encouraging me to start a collection. Since then, I had accumulated several unusual j
ade pieces when I was in the Peace Corps in China and during my other travels.

  Katrina’s middle name was Pearl, and she wasn’t crazy about it. Still, she was going to name her firstborn Jasper, so maybe subconsciously she was carrying on our family gemstone-naming tradition.

  We talked a little more about Gatsby, then Jonas’s mom called to him, so he said good-bye. After I hung up, I stared at the expectant, blinking light on my game system. I couldn’t return to the wolf game tonight. Although I had review article deadlines looming, it would be best if I took a long bath and tried to relax. Maybe I could fix a cup of hot chocolate with liberal amounts of spray whip and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I’d smooth on my new caramel-scented lotion and slip into my comfiest pj’s.

  I didn’t know who I was trying to kid. There was no way I’d get much sleep after a day like today.

  6

  I groaned when my phone alarm played a charming little tune designed to assure me that today would be carefree and beautiful. I had my serious doubts.

  However, by the time I slid onto Bluebell’s tan leather seat and started her up, the sun was out and it was fifty degrees. Bluebell sprang to life and her engine almost purred, she was running so smoothly. I slapped her dashboard and told her she was my favorite.

  What would Stone think if he knew I talked to my car? What would Jonas think?

  And why did I care what either one of them thought? If I wanted to talk to Bluebell, by Jove, I’d talk to Bluebell.

  I picked up a large cup of Dunkin’ D, so I was feeling even more sassy as I pulled up the long drive to the wolf preserve. I found myself wishing I wouldn’t see Carson, Veronica, or Dennis Arden today, since all three of them seemed to push my buttons.

  Thankfully, I ran into Rich first. He was watering the pansies in the window boxes and turned to greet me with a smile.

  “Good to see you. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t know if I could ever refer to any day on this now-tainted preserve as beautiful, but I capitulated. “It’s great to finally have some warmer weather, for sure. If you want to hang on a sec, I’ll just run in and throw my lunch in the fridge and grab my vest, then I’ll be right out to help you.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Evie was nowhere to be seen, even though someone had flipped the visitors’ center sign to Open. I hustled into the kitchen and shoved my lunch bag into the stainless-steel fridge, trying not to look at the off-white fridge standing next to it. I hoped against hope that Rich wouldn’t make me feed the wolves, but if he did ask me to do it, could I really refuse? I had signed the contract, after all, and if I shirked on my duties, Dahlia wouldn’t give me a good referral when I left. I needed all the positive reviews I could gather in Greenwich society.

  I slowly pulled on my vest, steeling myself for whatever chores Rich assigned me. I doubted he’d send me into the wolf enclosure alone; besides, he would surely know how to handle the animals if they got too unruly.

  Evie rose from behind the counter when I came out, and I realized she’d been there all along, just hunkered down where I couldn’t see her. It was almost like she’d been hiding.

  I took a second look at her, trying to figure out what she was up to. She was dressed, coiffed, and made-up so perfectly, I got the impression she’d donned her armor for the day. The woman looked like she’d stepped off the Paris runway.

  She didn’t initiate conversation, which was odd. She had struck me as quite an extroverted extrovert.

  “Hi,” I said, cutting the awkward silence. “Did you ever reach Dahlia?”

  “I finally did. They don’t have much Wi-Fi on the preserve she’s visiting. Anyway, the soonest flight she could catch was this evening, so she’ll be back tomorrow. Sergeant Hardy recommended she come as soon as possible, because he’s releasing the story to the news tonight.”

  We both had a moment of silence, fully aware that reporters would likely be crawling all over the place by morning.

  “Are you working on paperwork today?” I probed.

  “What? Oh, no. I was just…straightening some things.” Her eyes darted to the window. “In fact, I need to get back to it now.”

  She ducked behind the desk, making herself invisible again.

  I took a glance out the window, but no one was out there. Evie was definitely in a clandestine mode for some reason, but maybe she was like me and was trying to avoid interactions with certain people. I didn’t have time to sit around and speculate on the motivations for her behavior.

  “Okay, well, ’bye,” I said, then walked outside. Rich had already pulled out the wheelbarrow and buckets, so it looked like I’d be joining him for wolf-feeding duties once again. Neither Jonas nor my family would be happy to know I was heading back into the enclosures.

  But if Rich could do it, so could I. He also shouldn’t be going in there alone, and we were the only ones handling chores around here. I grabbed a pair of disposable gloves and followed him to the side door.

  He gave me a grateful smile as he propped the kitchen door open. He started passing the meats to me. I’d gotten more proficient at loading the buckets, and in no time at all, we were poised to head back into the woods.

  “You’ll be on water duty again, if that’s okay,” he said. “I’ll handle the food.”

  “Thank you.” While I didn’t really want to go back in with the wolves, at least I wouldn’t have to act as the animals’ waitress, hand-delivering their food.

  When Rich pushed the gates open at Thor’s enclosure, Freya was the first to approach—and she headed straight for me. Her head was lowered and her tail wagged as she careened into my shins and started rubbing around my legs.

  Rich was making his way to the wolves’ metal dish, but he turned. “You okay?”

  “Sure, yeah.” I turned on the water, hoping Freya would be distracted by the sound of her meal dropping into the dish. But even as Thor and the other wolf swirled around the food, Freya stayed firmly planted at my side.

  Almost like she was protecting me.

  Did she sense my increased anxiety? It was definitely possible. Or maybe she was looking for comfort herself. I stole glances at the crooked white scars on her nose. She had a kind of imperfect, tragic beauty.

  I looked over at Rich. Thor had finished gobbling his own food. The beefy wolf-dog shoved his muzzle into Rich’s outstretched hand, clearly demanding attention. Rich scratched Thor’s ears and rubbed his rump, talking to him all the while. Thor sank into a blissful heap on the ground.

  Freya wasn’t nearly as forward as Thor, but she’d positioned herself at my feet, making it difficult for me to move. I had to admit, this wolf was really growing on me. “Think of the wolves as wild, not pets,” Katrina had warned. Yet these animals acted so much like domesticated dogs, I had to keep reminding myself of that fact.

  I cut the water when the trough was half full, and Freya obligingly stood to let me pass. As we moved out of the enclosure with no incident, I let out a relieved sigh.

  “They’re not killers.” Rich’s voice was firm as he rattled on ahead of me, the wheelbarrow wheel bouncing.

  “But the wolves in Njord’s pack are,” I responded sharply.

  He shot me a grim look. “I still can’t believe it. I’ve worked with those wolves from the time we got them. And Njord—I was there when he was born.”

  I hurried to catch up to Rich, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. “You worked with them from the start? Along with Dahlia, right? Shaun told me how she’d spent so much time getting them acclimated and all that.”

  Something flared in Rich’s eyes. “Sure, Dahlia tells everyone what a godsend she is to these broken, unwanted animals, but in reality, she’s played little part in their day-to-day lives. She buys them, then leaves the rest to me. I’m the one who integrates the wolves into the packs. I’m the one who feeds them. I’m the one who watches for sig
ns of illness. Dahlia might pretend to be some kind of wolf-savior, but to be honest, I’m betting the wolves would hardly recognize her.”

  I lagged behind, stunned into silence. Why would Dahlia tell such outright lies to Shaun and others, taking credit for what Rich had done? What was the point of starting a wolf preserve if you didn’t really care about wolves?

  Unless she was making really good money from it, which I couldn’t imagine, given the amount she was charging for tours. Maybe the wolf preserve was just a front…like a money laundering operation? Maybe Evie was acting all nervous because she knew the IRS was watching them?

  I shook my head. I had been watching too many spy shows. Since when did the IRS make spying house calls? Money laundering probably didn’t occur in real life as often as it did on TV, especially in an affluent town like Greenwich.

  Still, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. I would watch Dahlia closely when she returned to see if she even interacted with the wolves.

  If she didn’t…ugh. That probably meant she hadn’t really planned on helping Rich when she returned, which meant she would have to ask me to extend my contract.

  I stared at Rich’s back, knowing I couldn’t leave the poor man alone on chore duty so close to his daughter’s wedding. His highest priority was to finish the floors for her, so that she and her new husband could move into their home with minimal delays.

  Rich shoved the wheelbarrow up a little incline and I picked up the pace. The second enclosure came into view.

  The enclosure where Shaun had been mauled and partially eaten.

  I cast about for some kind of conversation that would take my mind off our impending duties, but I wound up returning to the revelation Rich had just shared. “So…you don’t think anything’s off with Dahlia’s business, do you? I mean, why would she invest so much in something that she’s not even interested in?”

  Rich’s jaw tightened, and he didn’t answer. Instead, he strode up to the gates and quickly unlocked them.

  Apparently, our discussion of Dahlia’s business dealings was closed.