Belinda Blake and the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by Heather Day Gilbert

  I gave a sigh of relief and dropped the unruly chicken, which promptly raced into the henhouse.

  Veronica was nowhere in sight. She must have made a run for it when the raccoon emerged on her side of the fence.

  “We’ll need to repair that,” Jonas said, his voice calm as ever, although his shoes and jeans were covered in dust. “Do you know where any chicken wire is?”

  I assumed it was in the shed, so we temporarily blocked the hole with the chicken ladder board and I led him to the red building. While he retrieved the supplies, I ducked into the visitors’ center and found Veronica huddled in the kitchen. I assured her that everything was under control, then Jonas and I went out to repair the fence.

  He chuckled. “That Veronica’s quite the city girl, isn’t she?”

  “Apparently. I don’t know why she went ahead and started feeding the chickens without me. I told her I’d train her.”

  “Don’t stress it. A raccoon in the henhouse is no laughing matter. If you ever see it again, call animal control.”

  I put my hand on my hip as he twisted the wire together. “In other words, do as I say, not as I do.”

  He gave me a wry look and continued his repairs. Once he was finished, we made our way back to the visitors’ center. Evie and Marco didn’t seem to be around, and Veronica had vanished as well, so I decided to give Jonas a quick tour in the woods before he had to head home. I grabbed the key to the first enclosure, ignoring the new key clearly marked Njord’s Pack in Evie’s careful handwriting.

  As we walked up the dirt path, I gave Jonas’s side a playful jab. “Veronica was quite a convincing damsel in distress. I think she was checking you out.”

  He replied swiftly, his eyes fixed on the trees ahead. “Was she? I didn’t notice. She’s really not my type.”

  I had a burning desire to ask what on earth his type was, but I didn’t give in to it. Instead, I started overexplaining, which I tended to do when my emotions swam to the surface. “So, I think we’ll go into the first wolf enclosure—I’m sure those wolves are harmless enough. There’s this female wolf named Freya and she seems to like me. Then we can drop by the second enclosure, but we won’t go in.”

  “Still worried they’re killers?” Jonas asked.

  I slowed. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure. I know Rich wasn’t killed by Njord’s pack, and Shaun might not have been, but the fact remains that the wolves must have chewed on Shaun, just like they chewed Carson’s hand.”

  “And they didn’t lay a tooth on Rich. But you said he was like the alpha of Njord’s pack, right? The one who’d raised Njord from a pup? It makes sense he wouldn’t dare hurt his alpha—in fact, didn’t you say Njord was standing sentry over him?”

  “He was, but he was that way with Shaun, too.” I picked up the pace, leading us to the first gate, which I unlocked quickly. Although I wasn’t overly excited to go into Thor’s enclosure, I did think his pack was trustworthy enough and wouldn’t try anything, especially with two of us. Besides, Jonas could read animal behavior better than most, and he would easily pick up any wolfish vibes I didn’t.

  I decided to go ahead and water the wolves, since that was the routine they expected from me. As Jonas followed me to the spigot, Thor was the first to come to my side. He seemed restless, but not aggressively so. He trotted between us, angling for a head rub, I suspected.

  Jonas gave him a light pet while I poured the water, but Thor meandered off into the woods. It had grown quite warm out, and he probably needed some shade.

  Freya loped our way, a frisky bounce in her step. She ignored Jonas and made a beeline for me, rolling around on the ground by my feet.

  “I’d say she likes you,” Jonas said.

  I gave in and stroked her stomach, telling Jonas the sad story of how she came to the preserve.

  “Seems like Dahlia’s doing some important work here.” Jonas shut the water off for me, then scanned the enclosure. “She’s done a good job with the fencing, too.”

  I gave a short laugh. “I guess she had to, after one of her wolves escaped.”

  Jonas was still serious. “That’s right, you’d mentioned that. But there’s a learning curve to everything, and what one farm—or preserve—does one way, another will do a different way. Totally depends on the animals, and sometimes you don’t know until you try.”

  Jonas’s observations made sense, and I felt somewhat guilty for bad-mouthing Dahlia’s efforts.

  “Things seem pretty clean, too,” he added. “The animals aren’t overcrowded, like they were at the preserve I visited out West.”

  “I hadn’t realized you’d been to a wolf preserve before.” Actually, I wasn’t even aware that he’d been out West. Maybe he had traveled there during one of the years I was in the Peace Corps. Although we’d grown up near each other and our relationship felt quite transparent, it seemed there were still some things I didn’t know about Jonas.

  I gave Freya a final pat and motioned toward the gate. “Let me show you Njord’s enclosure, then I know you need to get on home, since your mom’s expecting you by noon.”

  He glanced at the time on his phone. “Sounds good. I don’t stop a lot, so I should be able to make it in around three hours.”

  As I locked the first gate, I broached the topic I knew he’d been avoiding. “What’s going on with your mom, Jonas? Are they going to try more treatments?” I avoided meeting his eyes, giving him space as he answered.

  “Not right now. Her body’s too weak and it’s spread to so many lymph nodes, they’re saying the double mastectomy must not have gotten everything.” He leaned against the second gate. “They’re also saying the cancer is inoperable at this point.”

  I finally dragged my gaze to his face, and his defeated, helpless look almost made me plummet into tears. I took a deep breath as I led the way out the last gate. Slowly turning the lock behind me, I wished I could lock up all the pain of Naomi Hawthorne’s cancer just as effortlessly.

  I managed to keep my voice steady. “Thank you for telling me. I hadn’t planned to visit at Easter, but I think I’ll come up. Do you think your mom would mind if I dropped in one day?”

  Jonas gave me a stoic smile that further wrecked my emotions. “She’d love that.”

  19

  Marco rolled up with the wheelbarrow loaded with meat as we were returning to the path. His gaze traveled from Jonas to me, but he didn’t comment.

  “I just watered Thor’s pack and I can meet you at Njord’s to water them, if you want,” I offered.

  “Sure. I’d appreciate it. See you in a minute.” He walked toward Thor’s gate, whistling a tune.

  When we were out of earshot, Jonas said, “He seemed nice enough.”

  “I think he is,” I said. “He seems genuinely concerned about Dahlia, if not for her shiftless son.”

  “Speaking of Carson—that’s his name, right?—I haven’t seen him anywhere. I can’t believe he doesn’t pitch in more around here. This operation certainly can’t run itself.”

  “That’s for sure.” As we approached Njord’s gate, the white wolf gave us a golden stare, sniffing at the air.

  “He’s intense,” Jonas remarked, which was funny, because I hadn’t even seen him looking in the wolf’s direction.

  “Yes, but I’m not even kidding you when I say Njord enjoyed playing around with Rich—even giving him kisses!”

  “Oh, I believe you. Which backs up my theory that there’s no way Njord would harm him. Whoever killed Rich didn’t understand pack dynamics very well.”

  Jonas had vocalized the very thing that had been bothering me. Although the killer had been comfortable enough to go into the wolf enclosures, he hadn’t been aware of how the pack actually worked.

  Marco wheeled over to us. He must have fed Thor’s pack more quickly than usual. “I got to thinking that I didn’t know who your frie
nd was,” he said awkwardly.

  Realizing that Marco might be concerned about my safety—or the safety of the preserve—I made the introductions. “Marco, this is Jonas Hawthorne, a friend from upstate New York. Jonas, this is Marco Goretti.”

  Marco nodded to Jonas, but his look was somewhat challenging. “Were you planning to go in?”

  True to his unflinching nature, Jonas said, “I hadn’t planned on it, but I’d love to.”

  I placed my hand on his arm. “Jonas, you don’t have to—”

  “If you’re safe in there, I’m sure I will be,” he said, striding in behind Marco.

  I followed the men, wondering how Njord would react to Jonas. I didn’t have to wonder long. When Marco rolled the wheelbarrow over to the feeding area, Njord ignored the food and padded toward Jonas instead.

  Not a word was spoken, and I don’t even think one look was exchanged between man and wolf, but what happened next astounded me.

  As Njord drew close, he dropped his head and tucked his tail. He slowly lowered into a crouching position under Jonas’s hand, as if waiting for one crumb of recognition. When Jonas bestowed a single pat on his head, the white wolf dropped and rolled over, exposing his stomach.

  The wolf might as well have shouted, “You’re my new alpha! I will follow you!”

  Jonas’s lips slid into a half smile, and he bent down to rub Njord’s stomach.

  I turned on the spigot, then walked over to join them. Njord’s tongue was hanging out, and his eyes were closed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. You just walk into the enclosure, with a wolf pack that doesn’t know you from Adam, and suddenly you’re like the pack leader?”

  Jonas shrugged, as if this kind of thing happened all the time. And maybe it did on his farm—after all, one time I’d watched him walk up and shout right in a bull’s face.

  He stood, leaving Njord lying in his happy stupor. “I don’t know. It’s just this thing that sometimes happens. I tend to have this effect on children, most animals, and things that are a little skittish. I can’t really explain it.”

  Now that he said it, I realized I’d personally experienced the power of Jonas’s reassuring leader vibe, at least a few times.

  “I guess that comes in handy,” I said, still feeling awestruck. My dad was a vet and he was certainly confident around animals, but Jonas took things to a new level.

  “My dad was the same way,” Jonas said. “Although my brother, Levi, was kind of an exception. He chafed under Dad’s authority.”

  “Levi started traveling right out of high school, didn’t he? And now he’s wound up in Alaska,” I said. “Was that why? He was trying to avoid your dad?”

  “Probably, but also the responsibilities of the dairy farm. Dad didn’t expect Levi to take over, but I guess Levi always felt guilty that he didn’t want to.”

  “Complicated,” I mumbled.

  “All families are,” Jonas affirmed.

  Marco’s buckets were empty as he wheeled over to us. Njord stood, shook the dirt out of his fur, then trotted over to join Saga and Siggie at the food bowl.

  Marco shot Jonas one of those respectful man-to-man looks. “I see you got along fine with the big boy,” he said. Turning to me, he added, “Oh, and speaking of dangerous animals, I heard Veronica had a little trouble in the henhouse this morning.” He broke into a laugh, slapping his leg.

  Jonas nodded, but he was all business. “I repaired the hole in the fence, but you might want to make sure it’s reinforced. That raccoon might try to get in the same way again.”

  Marco turned serious. “Will do.” He gave Jonas’s hand a quick, macho shake. “I appreciate your doing that. We’re spread pretty thin around here. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to fill in—I’m supposed to be traveling next week.”

  I didn’t ask Marco why he would be traveling—it was anyone’s guess if his business was even legit in the first place.

  “I’ll be leaving next week, too,” I said, hoping Marco would remind Dahlia I wouldn’t be here indefinitely.

  Marco shook his head. “Dahlia will have to start interviewing people, but who would want to work on a wolf preserve where two people have recently died?”

  He had a valid point.

  I tried to inject a little hope into the situation. “Maybe the police will have things figured out by then.” If one particular police sergeant wasn’t involved, that was.

  “Maybe,” Marco said, his depressed look revealing that he didn’t think things would be squared away anytime soon. He rolled toward the gate.

  I jogged over and turned off the spigot. Jonas fell in step beside me as I followed Marco out. After locking the gates behind us, Marco said he’d be glad to feed the chickens if I wanted to show Veronica how to feed the smaller animals today, so I agreed.

  Marco tipped his head toward Jonas, then headed back toward the visitors’ center. I glanced over at Jonas, feeling completely bummed that he had to go.

  He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “I hate to leave you here alone,” he said. “Marco seems like a decent guy, and Veronica and Evie are probably harmless enough, but the fact remains that someone hanging around this preserve could be a killer.”

  “It still doesn’t make sense why anyone would have killed Shaun or Rich. I mean, Shaun was just not the kind of guy who would tick anyone off. I wonder if the coroner was wrong and the wolves did kill him for some reason?”

  Jonas sat down on an oversized rock, and I sank down next to him. “I doubt it, given the way you said he looked when you found him. It sounds like his body was largely intact—sorry for being gross—but they hadn’t ripped into it as if they were actually going to eat him for a meal.” He slapped the stone. “Hang on—what if someone poisoned him first, then before dragging him into the enclosure, they placed meat on him?”

  That made more than a little sense. “That would definitely explain why the wolves chewed him up, but didn’t eat more.” There was a kink in his theory, though. “But what about Carson? The wolves gnawed on his hand when he was just trying to pet them. So maybe they only chew on people they don’t respect as much? In that case, I still need to keep my distance. I’m not as high as you or Rich on their respect-o-meter.”

  Jonas looked frustrated. “You need to get out of here as soon as you can. It doesn’t matter whether it’s wolves or people killing people—the issue is that you’re not safe on the preserve. Promise me you’ll consider quitting.” He glanced at his phone. “I really do need to head out. I’m so glad I got to see this place, though. It’s not every day a random wolf gets friendly with me.”

  I met his eyes and he held my gaze. His serious, warm look seemed to loosen some of the knots in my spirit, and when he stretched out his arms for a hug, I gladly leaned into them.

  He pressed a strong hand to the back of my head, holding my head against his chest. Then he briefly and unexpectedly dropped a kiss on the top of my curls. His voice was rough as he said, “Please take care of yourself, Belinda. Will I see you at Easter?”

  I took one last, long whiff of his shirt, which smelled like clean laundry with a hint of something peppery, then extricated myself from his arms. “Count on it,” I said.

  Although I felt like falling back into Jonas and exploring the emotions I was pretty sure we both felt, these woods felt tainted. For all we knew, Creeper Carson might be watching us from the trees. This wasn’t the right moment for us.

  But something told me there was a right moment out there, and when it finally came to pass, I’d be every bit as eager as Njord had been to capture Jonas’s undivided attention.

  * * * *

  By the time I met up with Veronica in the kitchen, she had calmed down and was recounting the raccoon story to Dennis Arden, who had apparently dropped by for the day.

  I wished Dahlia would rope him in for some
chores—although he was older, he looked hale and hearty—but I knew she’d never stoop to that, given her feelings for her father-in-law. And besides, he’d never agree to help her.

  Why did he come around here anyway? Maybe to see Carson? Or to goad Dahlia? I remembered what Susan had mentioned about seeing a gray-haired man meeting with Dahlia in her bakery.

  As Veronica bit into an interesting-looking veggie-laden taco, I opened my sandwich bag and turned to Dennis. “How’s Carson today? I haven’t seen him.”

  Dennis helped himself to a cup of coffee. “I haven’t, either. Dahlia said he was out; I have no idea where. I’d hoped to talk to him. My construction company just picked up a big job over in New Rochelle, and I’m going to need someone to fill in at the office.”

  “That would be stellar.” Evie seemed to appear out of thin air, but I suspected she’d been lurking and listening in the gift shop.

  Dennis laughed. “You’re trying to get rid of him too, are you?”

  Again, I was shocked at how carelessly he spoke of his grandson, even though Carson was admittedly a slacker.

  Evie adjusted her vivid emerald-green scarf. “I simply know how anxious Dahlia is for Carson to find work he enjoys.” She turned and stalked back to the gift shop.

  Dennis raised his eyebrows. “She’s quite a pill, isn’t she? Dahlia really knows how to pick ’em.”

  I wanted to stick up for Evie, maybe mention that Dahlia had chosen Dennis’s own son as a husband, so how was that for poor picking? However, I managed to keep a lid on my snide remark and tried to redirect the conversation instead. “Does your wife help out with your business as well?” I asked.

  His face fell. “Madeline died four years ago. But you’re right—she did help at the company when she was well. She was the best secretary we ever had.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  His eyes crinkled behind his glasses lenses. “It’s okay. You know, Madeline had big dreams for this property—she’d hoped to build a day spa here, complete with pools and English gardens…you name it. But then Quinn got married, and I gave it to him as a wedding present.” He made a fist and pounded the table. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve regretted that decision.”