by Terry Spear
Emma Greypaw, Lori’s grandma, was shaking her head at Lori. “I told you girls you’d both be fine. Quit your fretting.”
Paul took Allan aside. “What did you learn?”
Allan told Paul everything—that the driver of the black sedan was Vaughn Greystoke, a PI supposedly hired by a man named Devlyn to search for Sarah Engle.
“Devlyn? The gray wolf pack leader in Colorado? The one with the mate who was incarcerated in the Oregon Zoo?”
“That’s what I suspect.”
“Okay. In other news, the Van Lake murder victim? He was a wolf.” Paul immediately got on his cell, then put it on speakerphone. “Tessa, Paul Cunningham here.”
“How is your mate? Twins coming soon?”
“Yeah. And Allan’s sister is having her triplets right now. We’re at the clinic, but we’re investigating a possible werewolf-hunter murder and Vaughn Greystoke came up in our search.”
“Good luck with hunting him down. I don’t know the wolf though.”
“He’s a cousin of Devlyn’s.”
“Then he’s got to be my distant relation. Here’s Devlyn and Bella’s number. Tell them I said hello.”
“Thanks, will do.”
“Good. Take care of your wife. We’ll be talking again, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, Tessa.”
Then they ended the call and Paul contacted Devlyn. “I’m Paul Cunningham and I’m checking into a Vaughn Greystoke, who claims to be a PI investigating the disappearance of a Sarah Engle for you. If you’re the right Devlyn.”
“I am, and I’ve learned she was murdered.”
“Right.”
“Vaughn is my second cousin, and, yes, he was investigating Sarah’s disappearance. The woman the hunter killed wasn’t part of our pack, but she was looking to join us. Anyway, we just thought she’d changed her mind about joining us. But then she called me and said a werewolf hunter was after her. I contacted Vaughn and asked him to give her protection. Before he could locate her, she called me back and said to never mind. She had taken care of it. So I figured she had killed the hunter. I still sent Vaughn to investigate what was going on anyway. He’s been on a merry chase ever since then.”
“He drives a black sedan and has been following some of our investigators and pack members,” Paul said.
“You know how it is when entering a pack’s territory. No one knows who’s running things. Some packs get really antsy about usurper wolves trying to take over a pack. So he’s been trying to learn if there truly is a pack up there and who’s running it. I take it you are the pack leader?”
“Yes.”
“A woman named Emma Greypaw was in touch with Sarah before she vanished. Then Vaughn learned Sarah had been murdered. But he didn’t learn it right away. He’s been following Lloyd and Otis’s trails.”
“Did Vaughn kill Lloyd?”
“And leave evidence behind? No. We suspect Lloyd’s partner Otis did. Here’s Vaughn’s number. I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be calling him. He’ll work with you to help in any way that he can.”
“Thanks. We appreciate the assistance,” Paul said.
“If we had werewolf hunters in our neck of the woods, we’d feel the same way. Good luck.”
When they finished the call, they heard a baby cry. Allan’s heart nearly stopped. Lori was on her feet in an instant, wringing her hands. Paul walked over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Five minutes passed, and another baby began to cry. But they were all on pins and needles until they heard the third baby. When it cried, they all smiled and everyone there took turns hugging Allan and congratulating him for being a brand-new uncle. And now he had his work cut out for him.
He was surrounded by love and family. Yet all he could think of was Debbie sitting home on this wintry night—all alone. And wishing he could be there.
* * *
After having another meeting with Franny, her husband, Lori, Paul, and Allan about her stalker trouble and putting the whole pack on alert, Allan went to see to his mother’s needs while she was seeing to the babies’ and Rose’s. Three days later, Everett looked bushed as Lori and Emma prepared a meal for the whole family to show their support.
“How’s Debbie?” Lori suddenly asked Allan in the living room, while everyone was busy putting food away in the kitchen, fussing over the babies, or taking care of Rose.
He thought he was alone and hadn’t heard Lori come up behind him.
“She’s fine.” He didn’t know why Lori was asking. Debbie hadn’t had a major upheaval in her life. And as far as he knew, the department hadn’t had any emergency calls requiring divers. They’d get a team that was ready to go anyway, and since he was going to be here for another day or so to help out, they’d call on another team.
“You’ve talked with her?”
Allan frowned down at Lori. “Yes. I called her and told her that Rose was doing fine and all three babies were healthy boys.”
“What is she investigating while you’re here and not doing any dive work?”
“Lori…” He tried not to sound exasperated. He suspected her intuition was picking up something about the way he felt about Debbie, no matter how much he tried not to show it. But he wasn’t about to discuss it with her, even though she was a good friend and a pack leader.
She frowned up at him. “Didn’t she tell you she’s been doing some investigating on her own?”
“What? Not on this werewolf case.” All of a sudden, his heart was racing, and he had no control over it.
“She called Rose to congratulate her on the babies and sent a present for each of them. She said she’d come by later, when they were a little older and Rose was more rested. She knew Rose would be too worn out for company. Debbie said she was busy working a case, but as soon as she could, she’d drop by.”
Allan was already pulling out his phone and calling Debbie.
“Oh, Allan. I was just going to call you,” Debbie said, “but I didn’t want to bother you if you were needed there. Someone’s been shooting down near the lake. It’s probably nothing, but I’m in the vicinity and investigating it.”
“Where are you? Wait for backup.”
“A quarter mile south of Polly Meyer’s cottage. I can’t wait. If he’s shooting something illegally or he’s our murderer, I can’t let him get away.”
Allan told Lori he had to go and where he was going, then sprinted outside Rose’s house to the car. “I’m twenty minutes from there. Wait for me. I’m on my way,” he told Debbie. It could just be a hunter, but after Sarah and the two wolves were shot in the same vicinity, he didn’t want to risk not investigating. But he wondered why Debbie would jump to that conclusion. “What else, Debbie?”
“I saw a red Camaro up on the logging trail. I’m having Rowdy run the plates now.”
Hell, if the shooter was a werewolf now, they couldn’t get Rowdy involved. They had to take care of the shooter on their own, though Debbie would be clueless as to why.
He’d kept his phone open on the drive to the lake road to reach the area. “Talk to me, Debbie. Tell me you’re waiting for me.”
“He’s shooting something. I’m in the trees and getting closer to where I can see the beach. What if it’s… Ohmigod, he’s shot a wolf.”
Allan’s heart nearly stopped. It was probably a genuine wolf, not one of their kind. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was one of their own people?
Debbie shouted, “Police officer! Drop the weapon!”
“It’s not what you think it is!” the man shouted back.
Hell, Debbie. Allan couldn’t drive any faster on the narrow, winding, snow-covered gravel road. If the shooter was Otis, he most likely wouldn’t obey her. But Allan couldn’t talk to her now. He couldn’t distract her. He wanted to call for backup, but he couldn’t disconnect the line. Not when he was listen
ing to her heavy breathing, her life pounding through her veins, and his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
“Drop the weapon!” she hollered again.
“Hell, I know you’re not one of ’em, but if you’re going to protect ’em, you’re just as bad as them.”
Shots rang out.
Stricken and numb, Allan barreled the vehicle in her direction and then saw her car. He slammed on the brakes, bringing his hatchback to a sharp stop on the packed, crusty snow. Then he threw open the door, having enough presence of mind to grab the medical pack, and ran toward the sound of gunshots fired in the distance. “Damn it to hell,” Allan said, running full-out.
As soon as he reached the location, he found Debbie alone on the shore of the lake, getting ready to shoot a wolf lying nearby on its side.
“No!” he shouted, racing to save the lupus garou. From here, he knew the tan-colored wolf was Tara Baxter, Everett’s sister. Allan had to save her. Besides it being a devastating loss, if Tara died before he could rescue her, she’d turn into her human form in front of Debbie.
“It’s wounded, wild, and a predator. We need to put it out of its misery,” Debbie warned him, weapon still readied.
“No, don’t shoot the wolf!” His heart drumming, he raced to the location, but he didn’t see any sign of the hunter. “Where’s the shooter?” Making sure the place was secure was a priority, but Tara looked to be in bad shape, so he didn’t have any choice but to take care of her and hope no one would shoot them out in the open like this.
“I wounded him. He fired back at me, then ran off,” Debbie said, sounding a little winded.
“Hell.” Allan got on his knees in front of Tara. “Hope you hit him somewhere that’s going to slow him down and force him to seek medical attention.” Better yet, that would kill him. Tara’s heart was beating way too slowly, and she was bleeding from three bullet wounds. All the wounds had evidence of burning. Silver rounds. He yanked out his cell phone and said to Debbie, “Get a blanket for her, will you?”
He called Paul and told him the emergency. “One of our wolves is wounded. Shooter’s gone but could still be in the area. Debbie says she thinks she shot him.” Allan gave him the location.
“Lori told us you might be in trouble. We’re already on our way. Where’s Debbie?” Paul asked, his voice dark with concern.
Allan knew what he was worried about—the wolf dying and turning human in front of her.
When Allan didn’t hear Debbie leaving to get the blanket out of his vehicle, he glanced back at her. She was sitting on the snowy beach now, blood soaking her pant leg and dripping onto the pristine snow.
“Hell, Debbie.” Allan realized then she was in shock. “Debbie’s been shot. Leg wound, it appears. She saw the red Camaro up on the logging road and called it in to Rowdy’s office.” Allan pulled out his knife. “No telling who’s going to be up here and when.”
“Okay, we’re on our way. We’ll have to salvage the situation the best we can. Out here.” Paul ended the call and Allan knew he’d get hold of their EMTs and doctor, and the alert roster would be notified. They had to get Tara out of here ASAP.
He was afraid he was losing her. He had to remove the rounds quickly and ensure she wouldn’t die. She was so sweet and innocent. He’d never heard her say anything bad about anyone. She was meek and mild mannered, a real beta wolf. He couldn’t imagine anyone shooting her. He quickly cut out the rounds digging into Tara side, then bandaged her. But then she quit breathing.
Damn it to hell.
“Where exactly are you injured?” he asked Debbie again, not liking that she had taken a bullet, but hoping she hadn’t been hit more than once and it wasn’t critical enough that he had to take care of it immediately. He had to revive Tara before he could see to his partner.
“Leg,” she said, sounding so weak, not being able to take care of her too was killing him. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and she was leaning over like she was about to collapse. She knew first aid, but she appeared to be too injured to do anything for herself.
Even so, Tara was worse off at the moment.
He started CPR. Tara still wasn’t breathing. He prepared to give the wolf mouth-to-nose resuscitation, cleared her airway, placed his mouth over her nostrils, and blew four quick breaths.
He did this again after two to three seconds, allowing the air to exhale, then continued breathing into her nostrils until normal breathing finally returned.
As soon as she was breathing and seemed to be stable, he turned to see to Debbie and heard vehicles parking back at the road. Thanking God that he’d have help and the shooter hadn’t returned to finish them off, he began working on Debbie. She was on her side now. From the way she was lying, her gaze was turned in Tara’s direction.
He found where Debbie’s wound was bleeding and tore open her pants so he could bandage the wound. He should have turned her away from seeing Tara. But Tara was still a wolf, and he was too busy trying to stem the bleeding from Debbie’s wound to move her. Her skin was cold and clammy, her pulse weak. Her gaze seemed unfocused.
But then her heart went into cardiac arrest and Allan had to begin CPR. This would go down as one of the worst days of his life.
He was sweating up a storm despite the frigid air. Suddenly, the EMTs were taking over, stabilizing Debbie and placing her in the ambulance. They also had to take Tara—but not as a wolf. She’d already turned.
* * *
“Did Debbie see Tara shift?” Paul asked Allan after he had gone home, showered, changed, and washed the blood out of his clothing, then met up with Paul at his lakeside cabin.
Allan was staring out at the lake, some of its surface frozen near the shoreline. “What?”
Paul said, “Allan, listen to me. I’ve asked you three times. Did Debbie see Tara shift?”
“Debbie was unfocused, in shock. She was looking in Tara’s direction, but I don’t think she really was seeing anything.”
Paul ran his hands through his hair. “What about the shooter?”
Allan shook his head. “I don’t know. I was concentrating on Tara. I didn’t even realize Debbie had been hit. What about Tara? Debbie? How are they doing?” Allan couldn’t believe Paul had made him come here when he wanted to see the women at the clinic. Yet deep down, Allan knew why. He just didn’t want to deal with the truth.
“Both are in stable condition at the clinic. But we have a real problem.”
“I don’t think Debbie saw anything. And if she did, she was in shock. I doubt anyone would believe what she had to say if she did see anything.”
“We can’t risk it. You know it, Allan.”
Allan swung around and scowled at Paul. “What do you mean? She was out of it. If she saw anything, which I doubt, it was that I was giving CPR to Tara as a wolf. After that, Debbie was in such bad shape, she went into cardiac arrest, and she wasn’t able to witness anything at that point.”
“We can’t assume that she didn’t see Tara shift.”
“You’re not serious. Give her a chance to talk about what she witnessed, about the shooter and whatever else she saw. And then we can go from there.”
“You’re not thinking rationally about this,” Paul said. “You care way too much for her, for one thing. Pack takes priority. We have to protect our kind, no matter what.”
Allan’s heart raced. He thought his best friend meant to eliminate her. It would be easy enough to do. She had gone into cardiac arrest once. She could do it again, and this time she wouldn’t make it.
He whipped around and headed for the door.
“Allan, it’s for the best.”
He wasn’t listening. As pack leaders, Paul and Lori had the final say in matters regarding the pack. When he took over the pack, Paul had said he’d be as democratic as could be. He was normally really reasonable. Allan couldn’t understand what had gotten int
o him to take this stand against Debbie. Even if she had seen Tara shift, no one would believe Debbie.
Maybe something else had gone wrong. But Allan couldn’t let them kill her.
When he finally reached the clinic, he found Everett and Rose there, waiting for Tara to get out of surgery. “Where are your babies?” He didn’t know why he even asked. He knew someone would be watching them. He just felt thoroughly rattled and angry.
“Emma and some of her quilting friends are enjoying them for a moment,” Rose said, dark circles under her eyes.
He thought when Paul had said Tara was in stable condition that she was already out of surgery.
Allan’s mother and Lori intercepted Allan. “Debbie’s in the ICU. You can’t go in,” Lori said. “She’ll be out in a little while.”
Allan was confused. He thought Paul meant they had to eliminate Debbie. Maybe Paul was just trying to prepare him for what might happen. Allan couldn’t relax. The adrenaline was still pumping through his blood after saving both the women’s lives, and now with the concern that the pack would want to eliminate his partner, he couldn’t settle his anxiety.
“Christine took her into surgery first because she’s human and was more at risk of dying at this point,” Lori said. She let out her breath. “Allan, Paul called and said you were ready to do something rash. Why don’t you come with me and your mom and we can discuss this in the doctor’s office?”
“Is Debbie going to be given the chance to share her side of the story?”
Lori took his arm. She led him from the patient waiting area to the doctor’s office in the back of the clinic. The well-appointed office was filled with a sitting area of leather chairs and a redwood coffee table, a desk, and an office chair. Once inside, Lori said, “Okay, I know how Paul is sometimes. He’s rather to the point and yet he means well for all concerned.”
“For us, but not for Debbie.”
“Can I be perfectly honest with you?”
“You know that’s the only way I want both you and Paul to be.” As long as it meant Debbie was safe from harm.
“You were getting yourself way in over your head with Debbie.”
