Dreaming of a White Wolf Christmas

by Terry Spear

  He needed to question her about the pups…maybe later. He started to back away from them slowly, and had almost reached the door when they came bounding after him. He was trying to figure out how to keep them from dashing out again as soon as he opened the door, when suddenly the woman reappeared with a blue towel wrapped around her curvy body and a Taser in her hand—and shot him.

  * * *

  After taking down the man, who was unlawfully in her house, Arctic wolf shifter Amelia Marie White knew she recognized him—the uniformed, human cop from Seattle. The man who’d been taken hostage on the plane she’d been forced to fly as the getaway pilot. What angered her also was that the man in charge of the heist, Clayton Drummer, the gray wolf she’d been dating, had been a Seattle cop too. She knew now that he’d only been dating her because he wanted to use her to fly him out of Seattle after stealing the jewels.

  Had the two men known each other?

  Possibly. What if this one was really here to take her down for killing Clayton? Not arrest her, as she’d thought initially.

  “Stay there. Don’t move a muscle. I have another Taser all ready and fired up to use on you. And the police are on their way.”

  Not that the guy was moving. He lay prone on her floor near the door, watching her, groaning. In her home. He was half-dazed and looked like he was having trouble focusing. Maybe he hadn’t seen enough of her to recognize her as the pilot of the plane that day. But if not, why would he be here?

  Confident he wasn’t going anywhere, Amelia rushed back to her bedroom, her foster pups running after her. She pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, then grabbed her phone to call the police.

  Wouldn’t you know, of all the times her front door hadn’t locked properly, she’d stripped to take a shower, and the faucet handle had fallen off in her hand—probably due to mineral water corrosion. She’d had to use the guest bathroom and remembered only after she showered that she’d washed all the towels in there. Which were still in the dryer. And she hadn’t brought clothes with her because she normally just walked from her master bathroom to her dresser.

  When she’d heard the deep-voiced male calling out her name inside her house, shocking her, she’d had a split-second decision to make. She could shift into her wolf and scare the guy off, but she worried she’d scare her foster pups too. Or she could dash through the house naked, grab a towel and her Taser from the master bathroom, and take care of the guy. Dashing through the house as a naked woman had seemed to throw him off guard, at least long enough for her to tase him.

  She’d hoped he would be gone by the time she returned. When he hadn’t been, she’d had to take action.

  Once the police were on their way, she hurried back into the room where the guy was still lying on the floor, stunned. She wasn’t sure if he was staying put because she told him to, or if he really was still incapacitated. Too bad he wasn’t a wolf, as sexy as he was.

  “Who are you, and why didn’t you leave when I told you to?” She prayed he didn’t say he was still a cop and investigating her leaving the scene of a crime.

  “Gavin Summerfield,” he managed to get out. “Former Seattle police, private investigator now, looking into the theft of a pair of Samoyeds in Seattle, which led me here to Big Lake. And your place.”

  Now that she could really observe him—unlike the first time she’d seen him when he’d been hustled into the back of the plane and she’d been forced into the cockpit, or when he was lying on the ground half-conscious after the crash—Amelia couldn’t believe the hot-looking man she’d just tased was now a PI. Dazed green eyes, red hair, all dressed in black, his T-shirt showing off his nice muscles.

  She’d really thought he’d been in on the heist, offering himself as a hostage as a cover. When Clayton had tried to kill him, she’d taken her boyfriend out, mainly for trying to kill the cop, but also because as a wolf, Clayton couldn’t go to jail. And because Clayton had used her and would have killed her if she hadn’t gone along with the program.

  “Stolen Samoyeds?” What Gavin said wasn’t registering because all she could think of were the jewelry heist and the downed plane. Sure, she was taking care of a couple of Samoyed puppies. She was fostering them, for heaven’s sake. Just like she fostered tons of dogs until she could find them good homes.

  Then she worried. What if Molly and Snowflake were the stolen pups he was searching for?

  Two cop cars pulled into her driveway, and she met the uniformed men at the door. She prayed Gavin hadn’t recognized her and wouldn’t say anything about the Seattle business to them.

  Brenham, one of the cops, began checking Gavin over and verifying his identity, ready to take him into custody.

  “Call London Lanier, the retired police detective who worked in your department. He gave me the information about the pet theft ring in this area,” Gavin gritted out.

  The other cop called London to see if Gavin’s story checked out.

  “Do you want to press charges?” Brenham asked Amelia.

  “No,” she said. “He shouldn’t have stayed in the house when I told him to leave, but he did return my pups when I could have lost them for good.”

  “I was working my way toward the door, and the pups were following me. I was afraid they’d dash out again,” Gavin said.

  She liked his deep, manly voice, though it was a little rough around the edges right now, different from when she’d first heard him talking to her from the foyer.

  “Was your front door open?” Brenham asked Amelia, a black brow arched.

  “Yeah, I’m having trouble getting it to seat properly, and though I locked it, apparently it wasn’t shut all the way. I have a carpenter coming to check it this afternoon.”

  She couldn’t believe Gavin hadn’t told the cops who she was. Maybe he truly hadn’t seen her face before, and he really was only here about the missing pups. If that was the case, she hoped he found them for the puppies’ and the family’s sake.

  Brenham helped Gavin to his feet. Frowning, Gavin asked her, “Have we met before?”

  Her heart pounded. The police waited for her to answer him. She quickly shook her head. “Everyone says that.”

  “You look familiar,” Gavin insisted. “Have you ever been to Seattle?”

  She felt light-headed all of a sudden and was afraid the color had drained from her face. “No.” She hated to lie. Since she hadn’t reported what had happened to her six months ago, she was afraid the police would believe she’d willingly been the robbers’ getaway pilot. Especially if they learned she had been dating the dead wolf.

  “Okay, my mistake. It’s probably like you said. You just look like someone else.” Gavin didn’t sound like he truly believed that.

  Which reminded her he was a former cop—like these two here who were watching her behavior. She was trying to look perfectly innocent. She wasn’t sure Gavin was buying it.

  Brenham began looking at the pups’ photos that Gavin had, and then he carefully considered Amelia’s pups. “The ones in the photo and the ones you have look the same to me. Are you sure the pups you’re fostering hadn’t been stolen before they were taken to the shelter where you picked them up?”

  The police were thorough, so one got in contact with the animal shelter to verify her story. Especially since her neighbor had told Gavin the pups had arrived about the same time he learned the Seattle pups had been stolen.

  Fearing that they might be, Amelia took the photo from the officer and really studied it. The Samoyed pups did look very much like hers. Except for one thing. The ones in the photo were wearing blue leopard-print collars.

  She frowned at Gavin, who was leaning against the wall, still looking like she’d just tased him. “Are the two puppies you’re looking for males?”

  * * *

  Once Gavin was feeling more like himself—though still having visions of a beautiful, naked, blond fem
ale streaking across her living room—he set up surveillance to watch Asher and Mindy Michaels’s home, the place London had originally steered him to check out. Gavin still swore he’d seen Amelia White before—in the commission of a crime. A flashback of the blond wearing a blue dress flitted across his brain for a couple of seconds. The experience was like when he’d see a bank teller at the grocery store. Because she wasn’t where he normally saw her, he couldn’t quite make the connection. Yet, due to having been both a cop and a private investigator, he was good at remembering faces.

  Still, he needed to get his mind on his work and off the woman.

  * * *

  Early in the evening three days later, a new vanload of dogs arrived. Gavin quickly made a call to coordinate with the police. Once they were on their way, he went to talk to Asher Michaels, the man getting out of the van, to delay him until the police arrived.

  “Hey, excuse me. You’re Asher Michaels, right?” Gavin asked, stalking up the driveway and getting close to the man. He was dark haired and clean shaven, his square jaw tight with a cleft in the center of the chin. His hard, gray eyes narrowed at Gavin.

  Gavin knew Asher wanted to secure the dogs pronto before anyone began asking questions. He kept looking back at the house as if expecting someone to come out and help him.

  “I’ve got work to take care of. I don’t allow solicitors on my property,” Asher said.

  “I’m not trying to sell anything. I’m just looking for these two little fellas. Kodi and Shiloh. They got out on me, and I heard you took in dogs sometimes. Your neighbor fosters dogs, and she thought you did too. Our family has been devastated by the loss. Can you look at the picture and tell me if you’ve seen them? Or have them?”

  “Look, I don’t have your dogs. Now get off my property.”

  Asher refused to look at the picture. Gavin shoved it under his nose, trying to stall him, but also wanting to get a reaction. “Please, take a look.”

  Asher did, only because it was hard not to since the photo was so close to his face. His eyes widened fractionally. Either he had a couple of Samoyeds he’d stolen, or he’d already gotten rid of them.

  “I’m an undercover cop,” Asher said. “Get out of here before you blow my cover.”

  Gavin hesitated, processing that information. Then he assumed Asher was spinning a tale to serve as a cover for his illegal business. “If you know anything at all about them, I’m willing to pay a big reward for their return,” Gavin told him.

  Asher moved his jacket aside and reached for a holstered gun. Ah, hell.

  Gavin hadn’t expected the guy to pull a gun on him. He grappled with the man, hearing the cops pulling up street side. Gavin was glad for his police training as he struggled with Asher, trying to wrest the gun away before it went off. He hoped the police didn’t think he was assaulting Asher for just suspecting he had stolen the dogs.

  Gavin called out to the cops, “He’s got a gun!”

  The cops ran toward them, yelling at Asher to drop the weapon.

  Gavin finally managed to trip Asher and take the perp down. When a shot fired, just missing Gavin’s head, he was thinking this PI work could be damn dangerous. At the same time, a woman raced out of the house and began beating on Gavin with her fists, trying to free Asher. Gavin wouldn’t let go for anything. He was just glad the woman hadn’t gone for the gun.

  The police finally reached them and arrested Asher and Mindy, a petite brunette with catlike green eyes. Another couple of police vehicles arrived. The police officers hauled the couple off to jail. London even showed up with a list of dog thefts in Alaska to see if any of the dogs matched those that had been recently stolen.

  “Hell, you need to come work for us,” London told Gavin.

  “I thought you were retired.”

  “Just got rehired to be on a special unit that deals with stolen pets and illegal hunting. Come on inside. Let’s see if we can find those pups of yours.”

  “Asher said he was an undercover cop,” Gavin told him as they found kennels full of dogs of every size and breed in the backyard. He would guess the Michaelses had well over a hundred, not including the ones in the van.

  “Yeah, like I’m a strip-club dancer. He didn’t fool you, did he?” London asked, smiling.

  “No. I figured he thought I really was looking for my missing pups and he could convince me to go away. Then he must have realized I wasn’t buying his story and thought a gun would change my mind.”

  Brenham, one of the officers who had gone to Amelia White’s home to arrest Gavin, called out to him, “Hey, Summerfield. You might be interested in looking at a couple of Samoyed puppies in the bedroom up front.” Brenham smiled. “They even have blue collars, just like the ones the pups in the picture were wearing.”

  Hoping they were the pups he was looking for, Gavin hurried into the house and found Kodi and Shiloh in a crate together. They were watching the other dogs being rounded up, excited, wanting to play. Gavin called their names, and they both turned, wagging their tails.

  He checked them over. Their microchips had been removed, but he made sure they were both males. They were wearing the same blue leopard-print collars too. Thankfully, they were in good condition.

  Gavin was glad to be going home with the two pups but found himself thinking about the naked woman who’d had two Samoyed pups. He hoped she’d hear that he’d broken up a pet theft ring so she knew he’d been completely honest with her.

  After the terrifying plane ride back to Seattle and the return of the pups to their grateful family, Gavin went in to the PI agency, where his partners, all former police officers, were eager to hear how the agency’s first case had gone.

  He told his story, not leaving any detail out. Owen Nottingham whistled when Gavin mentioned the part about Amelia. David Davis laughed. Smiling, Cameron MacPherson slapped him on the back. “Hell, Gavin, you have all the luck.”

  Chapter 1

  Nearly seven years later

  Northern Minnesota

  Gavin hated one thing more than anything else in the world—flying. And that’s just what he was going to have to do for this mission.

  Eleanor Dylan was a cosmetic heiress, though she also had other kinds of businesses, and she was certain her husband was having an affair. She needed proof to start divorce proceedings and keep her inheritance intact. “Conrad is going on a fly-in company canoe trip to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, the BWCA, and your agency is the closest to that location. They’ll be in the wilderness, so you’ll have to take a seaplane to get there. Well, I guess you could just paddle in, but it would take you too long to catch up to them. Wouldn’t it? I mean, if you only have a day and a half to get ready and be there?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gavin grimaced, glad they were speaking on the phone.

  “I would have called sooner if I had thought of doing this earlier. But it’s the perfect way to catch them at it, I think. They’ll be there for nine days. The tour package includes food and all the equipment they need, so they won’t be stopping for supplies anywhere. Can you do it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Our agency can definitely take care of it.”

  All of Gavin’s PI partners and their mates were Arctic wolf shifters who had been turned a few years ago. As wolves, they had enhanced night vision, and their hearing was superior whether they were in their wolf coats or human form. They had settled in Minnesota and their PI business was booming, which meant Gavin was the only one available for this job. A trip to the Boundary Waters totally appealed. More so if he could have just paddled in.

  “Not your agency. You. I’ve looked into your background already, and from everything I’ve seen, you’ve got an outstanding track record.”

  “Thanks. All of my partners are also well qualified.” Gavin didn’t want her to believe that they couldn’t handle the case if one of them had to take over for him.
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  “You, or no deal.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll head up there and check it out.” His pack had already reserved permits for him and two of his partners to go to the Boundary Waters later in the summer. He checked on his computer for the availability of a different entry point, and he found one. Some canoeists must have canceled their trip because of the bad weather expected over the next couple of days. Gavin was able to switch his time and port of entry without any trouble.

  “Conrad gave me a copy of their trip itinerary in case anything happened,” Eleanor said. “It shows their route and where they intend to set up camp. He’ll never suspect a lone canoeist is doing surveillance on him, will he?”

  “No, ma’am. Does he often give you the detailed itinerary for his trips?” Gavin couldn’t help but think that if her husband were having an affair, he’d keep his wife out of the loop.

  “Always. I would have been suspicious if he hadn’t.”

  Okay, that explained it. Though Gavin wondered if Conrad would have given her a fake itinerary if he thought his wife was having him watched.

  “Have you been in the Boundary Waters before?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Several times.” Especially once they had more control over their shifting. The wilderness had been the perfect, close getaway for them.

  “Oh good,” she said with relief.

  “How many are on this company trip?” As a wolf, he could get up close to the campsite, and Conrad and his party would never know he was there.

  “Four executives from various departments. Lee Struthers, the CEO, likes to chill out with her executives on adventure tours a couple of times a year, instead of always conducting business in the boardroom. It’s supposed to be a team-building trip. One of the executives is a woman. And the two sales associates going with them are women too.”