Belinda Blake and the Snake in the Grass
Page 22
“I like to use the wheelbarrow because it’s less disruptive than the golf cart,” Rich explained as he continued his back and forth. “And I don’t touch the meat with gloves, so it smells more natural to the wolves.”
I was impressed with the way Rich seemed to put the wolves first in his caretaking. It was the same way I tried to operate as a pet-sitter. We’d probably get along fine as I helped him...although it was beyond me how I would feed raw meat to wolves without looking like an oversized, tasty morsel myself.
Evie strolled into the kitchen. Her garnet lipstick had been freshly reapplied, and the faint smell of spicy perfume drifted our way. Rich seemed oblivious to Evie’s high-class beauty, his final load of meats in hand as he used his backside to slam the fridge door shut.
Evie’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the raw, red mess stuffed into the buckets, and she quickly turned to me. “Belinda, would you mind sticking close to the visitor’s center? Maybe Rich can show you how to feed the wolves tomorrow. Dahlia’s on her way back and she’ll arrive soon, and I think you should talk with her to nail down details before she leaves on her trip.”
“Sure.” I certainly didn’t mind postponing my first feeding adventure.
We took our leave of Rich and headed back into the gift shop. Evie’s cell phone gave a metallic ring, and when she picked up, her smile quickly faded and her tone turned serious. She strode out the main door, firmly closing it behind her.
Finding her secretive behavior strange, I absently started browsing the clothing racks. I was seriously contemplating picking up a snarling wolf T-shirt emblazoned with the words Alpha Mom for my pregnant sister Katrina, when a hipster dude with clear plastic glasses walked in.
He breezed past me and entered the kitchen area. I realized he probably thought I was a tourist, so I followed him into the kitchen to introduce myself.
He had just settled into a chair and was aimlessly thumbing through his phone as if boredom was his personal cross to bear. He didn’t even look up as I lurked in the doorway. When he continued to look at his phone, I cleared my throat.
After what felt like five minutes but was probably only one, he finally glanced up and grunted.
“You new here?” he asked.
I nodded, curious as to what his story was. “I’m Belinda. Do you work here, too?”
The guy offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, revealing small, straight teeth. “I’m Carson White. My mom runs the place.”
“Oh! Nice to meet you. I haven’t met your mom yet.”
As if he couldn’t care less, his eyes slid back to his phone screen. With his straight-leg blue chinos and plaid button-up shirt, he struck me as one of those preppy types who seemed endlessly restless and unhappy. As I turned to leave, a young woman with a long black ponytail walked in. Carson instantly snapped to attention the moment she spoke.
“Have you seen my vest?” she asked, but it sounded like a demand.
Carson jumped to his feet and began rummaging through the coat rack on the back wall. After he produced a lime green vest and handed it to the woman, she turned to speak to me.
“You’re the new girl, Belinda, right? I’m Veronica—I’m one of the tour guides.”
Carson injected himself into our conversation, probably in an attempt to get Veronica to turn her luminous brown eyes his way. “She’s working on her Master’s degree.”
She shrugged her vest on over her fitted shirt. “I’m writing my thesis now. It’s about the wolves, actually. I’ve titled it Captive Wolves and Their Interactions with Humans: Pack or Prey?”
The title seemed poorly worded to me, but it did seem like an interesting topic, and one Veronica would get plenty of fodder for while she worked at the preserve. I really hoped she’d conclude that captive wolves looked at humans like their pack, because the alternative was frightening.
Veronica swept out the side door, and Carson followed, hot on her heels. I was curious as to what Carson’s relationship was with the lovely Veronica, if any. Had he been waiting here for her to show up?
I glanced out the window. Veronica was speed walking toward the woods, leaving Carson in her dust. Apparently, the attraction wasn’t mutual.
I headed back into the gift shop. Evie hadn’t returned, and I wondered how long I was going to have to wait to meet Dahlia. I considered calling Red and asking him to pick me up, but instead I decided to take a little jaunt outside and try to get my bearings at my new job.
Just as I opened the front door, a green Prius whipped into a spot in front of the visitor’s center and a woman seemed to wrestle with her seat before getting out. Her frowsy dishwater-blonde hair and worn chambray shirt, half-tucked into her jeans, gave the impression of someone who didn’t put much time into her appearance—an anomaly in this town. Gripping a plastic shopping bag, she bustled to my side. Her eyes darted to my face, then to the woods, adding to the impression that she was a woman constantly in motion.
“Good to see you—Belinda, right? I’m Dahlia, the one who called you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here—I had to pick up some last-minute pet supplies and the person ahead of me was buying out the store, it seemed!” She tried to shove her fluffy bangs to the side, but they curtained her eyes again. “Let’s go inside, shall we? I need to talk with Evie briefly, then I’ll explain your position to you.”
“Actually, Evie’s not in there right now,” I said.
All her fidgeting stilled for a moment. “Really? That’s not like her.” She readjusted the bag in her hand, a bewildered look on her face. “Right. Well, let’s go on in and we’ll talk about what you’ll be doing here.”
I pushed the door open so Dahlia could walk in first. I glanced around, then immediately felt like a liar. Evie was sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a half-eaten croissant.
Dahlia turned back to me with a strange expression, and I felt like I’d failed some kind of test. “She wasn’t here when I walked outside,” I rushed to explain.
“Of course,” Dahlia said, but there was a dubious note in her voice.
As she bustled into the kitchen, I trailed behind, trying to understand why Evie had felt the need to sneak into the side door after her phone call. It seemed the administrative assistant was hiding something, and I wondered what it was.