Cry of the Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  Shocked and strangely disappointed, she shook her head. Her entire body tingled as she stared after him.

  Someone tapped her shoulder, making her jump.

  “Hey, I know you.” The soft drawl was familiar. Jewel frowned up at the short, curly-haired woman before recognition kicked in.

  “Reba!” The talkative Realtor had shown Jewel the cabin she’d rented. She wore stretchy pink shorts and a T-shirt with the words Go for It emblazoned in neon-green across the front. “How are you?”

  Cocking her head, Reba regarded her curiously. “What are you doing here?”

  “Self-defense,” Jewel said with a shrug. “Living alone and all, I decided I needed to learn. You?”

  “The same.” Reba laughed, gesturing at a cluster of other women who were busy stretching and trying to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. “We all decided to take this class when we heard about it.” She leaned closer and winked. “The instructor’s Max Hart. He’s a hottie.”

  “Really?” Jewel had never met the man. “I didn’t know.”

  “He is.” Reba’s grin widened. “Plus, the exercise will do us good.”

  The instructor came in, clapping loudly three times to gain the group’s attention. He wore loose, khaki pants, a tight-fitting black T-shirt, and was barefoot.

  “I’m Max Hart,” he said, making eye contact with each woman. While he spoke, Jewel studied him, sizing him up. A lean, muscular man, he had that particular look common to ex-special forces. Some of Leo’s bodyguards and hired thugs had come from similar backgrounds. Scrutinizing this man’s face, she searched for a hint of his character, then chided herself for thinking she could tell by a simple look. What did it matter, after all? As long as he could teach and she could learn, that was all she needed to know.

  “Isn’t he hot?” Reba whispered.

  Jewel nodded by reflex. “He’s all right.” While she supposed some might find his compact strength attractive, he had nothing on her handsome stranger.

  Relieved her inability to change and simmering sexual need hadn’t made her completely man-crazy, Jewel decided Max Hart would do as an instructor. She wondered if he gave private lessons. She wanted to learn as much as she could, as fast as possible.

  But first, she’d see if he was any good.

  The class began with more warm-ups and stretches. For the next half hour, Jewel learned to twist and kick and various other methods of fighting off an attack. Each woman took a turn, and Jewel saw the surprise in the hard-edged instructor’s face when she effortlessly flipped him onto his back. She might not be able to change, but she still had most of her wolf strength.

  Several of the women tittered nervously.

  Leo would have been furious. Max merely cocked a brow and smiled, eyeing her with questions in his eyes. Holding out her hand, she helped him up.

  “Very good,” he told her. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  With a shrug, she ignored the question, instead returning to her place in line.

  “You go, girl,” Reba chortled, punching her arm lightly. On her other side, two women whispered behind their hands, watching Jewel the way one might eye a particularly vicious animal.

  If they only knew. Jewel flashed them a broad smile, the closest she could come to baring her teeth, amused when they instantly looked away.

  A tingling on the back of her neck made her turn. Her mystery man stood in the front of the room, a towel draped around his neck, watching. His skin shone with perspiration from what must have been a workout in the gym next door.

  Had he seen what she’d done? She flushed, part of her not wanting him to know she was preparing for an attack. The other part of her, feminine and apparently completely brainless, wondered if he found her strength unattractive.

  Like she cared. Focusing her attention back on Max, she decided to ignore her stranger.

  Yet she knew without looking the exact moment he left the room.

  Finally, the hour was up. Several of the other women decided to head over to the Mexican restaurant down the block and invited Jewel to join them. Immediately, Jewel accepted.

  “Jewel Smith,” Reba said, clapping her on the back. “You did well today. Made us all look like amateurs.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” Jewel said, which was a partial truth. Her unusual strength had helped, but she hadn’t had the faintest idea how to easily flip a man before the class.

  “You have an unusual name,” one woman said. “I like it.”

  Unusual and pretty had been the reasons she’d chosen it. Jewel was close enough to her real name, Julie, but different enough that no search engines would turn it up. Especially with Smith as a surname. Call her paranoid, but she knew Leo’s goons would still be looking.

  “An unusual first name to go with an ordinary last name.” A deep voice stopped her in her tracks. Several of the others twittered and giggled.

  “Hey, Colton.” Reba turned on the charm. “We’re about to go have lunch. Care to join us?”

  He declined, claiming other plans. The timbre of his voice sent shivers up Jewel’s spine. Colton. That was his name. She kept her back to him, though every instinct she possessed wanted her to turn and face him, to ascertain if he was really a threat, and to defend herself if necessary.

  Instead, she pressed closer into the circle of flustered women, staring at the floor until he’d moved away.

  Reba noticed and slipped an arm through hers. “Hungry?” she whispered.

  “Starving,” Jewel whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  Jewel laughed, liking the other woman more and more. Though making friends had been another thing the Witness Protection Program had cautioned against, Jewel thought she and Reba might become pals.

  A friend might help ease the stark loneliness of her situation. Since going on the run, she’d been completely and utterly alone. Leo had turned her into an outsider and, not knowing whom she could trust now, she dared contact no one. Her Pack back in Leaning Tree, New York, might as well be strangers. For all she knew, they considered her a traitor for testifying against Leo.

  All wolves ran in packs and, since she was now denied access to both her pack and that side of herself, she needed some form of human contact.

  A human pack.

  Smiling at the analogy, she let Reba lead her and the others outside and down the sidewalk to the restaurant. As they reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulder.

  Colton stood on the sidewalk staring after them, arms crossed and frowning.

  Cheeks heating, she turned away. Her heart sank. It would be only a matter of time before he figured out who she was. Though she’d colored her hair blond and grown it long, her slender shape and unique facial features made her instantly recognizable, if the right person knew where to look. Did Colton?

  Maybe making friends wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  “Are you okay?” Reba asked, eyeing Jewel with concern.

  “Just starving.” Another truth. Once inside the restaurant, the aroma of sizzling fajita meat made her mouth water. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since her boiled eggs and rasher of bacon that morning.

  They were shown to a large round table with mismatched chairs. Everyone took a seat, Jewel taking care to keep her back to the wall. While the others perused their menus, Jewel checked out the room. She relaxed slightly when she ascertained no threat—there were two young couples, several older couples and a few families with small children. No single men or pairs with the appearance of bodyguards or guns for hire.

  The women were friendly, even though they gently teased Jewel about her northern accent. Jewel kept her mouth shut about their Texas twangs, wondering if they realized she sometimes had trouble understanding them.

  She ordered beef fajitas, digging in ravenously once they arrived. Their table had gone through three baskets of chips and numerous bowls of salsa, but everyone seemed equally ravenous. Which was goo
d, as Jewel couldn’t eat slowly if she tried.

  Mid-bite, she froze. She ate as though her wolf-self was coming back. She could only hope that was the case.

  The bell over the door jingled and Jewel looked up.

  Colton entered and was shown to a booth near the back. Jewel couldn’t help but watch as he made his way across the room, pausing at a table here and there to exchange greetings.

  “Popular man, Colton Reynolds,” the woman next to her drawled. “Too bad he had plans.”

  Startled, Jewel glanced at her. On her other side, Reba elbowed her. “I think he likes you.”

  “Me, too,” someone else put in.

  “He’s single, too.” Grinning, Reba fluffed her unruly curls. “Of course, if you’ve a hankering for him, you’d better get in line behind the rest of us.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I wonder who he’s meeting,” a petite blonde named Charlene drawled. “It better not be Sue Ellen Wellman. She just got engaged to Ross Marin.”

  Several minutes passed while the others dissected Sue Ellen’s recent engagement.

  The bell jingled again. This time the man who entered sent alarm bells pealing in Jewel’s head.

  He looked exactly as though he could be one of Leo’s lieutenants. Tall, dark and overly muscled, he had the flat, dead eyes of a man who had seen and done too much.

  Jewel fought the urge to flee. She knew that type.

  “Will you look at that?” Reba breathed. “Who’s the hunk?”

  No one knew. They all watched with open interest as he was shown to his seat, the booth in back where Colton waited.

  Jewel wanted to dive under the table and hide, or better yet, make a blind dash for the door. She did neither, watching with narrowed eyes as Colton stood and greeted the man, shaking his hand before they sat.

  “I’m guessing you like Colton, too.” Reba’s amused purr brought Jewel back to her senses. She tore her gaze away from the two men, focusing on Reba.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “Colton Reynolds.” Reba gave her a knowing smile. “Our favorite local reporter.” Lowering her voice, Reba leaned forward. “Since you seem so interested in him, I think I need to tell you his story.”

  Jewel shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to hear.”

  “Sure you do. Why wouldn’t you? It’s a great story and adds to his general air of mystery.”

  “Yeah, and once you hear it, you’ll understand his remoteness,” Charlene put in with a wry smile, stabbing her enchilada with her fork and chewing slowly.

  They all watched Jewel with the avid eagerness of a flock of vultures waiting for a wolf to finish a meal of rabbit.

  “I don’t like gossip.” Jewel softened her words with a smile. “Really, I don’t.”

  “You’ll like this. This is big.”

  Since Jewel knew Reba would tell her anyway, she stabbed her last bit of fajita meat and waited.

  Reba grinned. “His ex-wife is in prison. And, even better, Colton made sure the woman was brought up on charges and stood trial. He refused to hire a lawyer, though she hired the best in Houston anyway. She got twenty years and her own husband put her there.”

  Confused, Jewel looked from Reba to the others. “I don’t understand. What did his wife do?”

  “He accused her of murdering their daughter. When she denied it, he set about proving she’d provided the drugs that ended the girl’s life.”

  “Drugs?” Jewel repeated, not sure she’d heard correctly.

  “Yes. The daughter died of a drug overdose. And Colton has made it his personal mission to make sure anyone involved in any way with drugs is taken down.”

  “Maybe that’s who that other guy is,” one woman put in. “A DEA agent or something. He sure looks like one.”

  Jewel nearly groaned out loud. Though better than one of Leo’s goons, if that was the case, she knew for certain that Colton-the-local-reporter would soon identify her. Because Leo’s arrest had made national news. He’d run one of the biggest drug cartels on the East Coast.

  And she had been his wife.

  Chapter 3

  She didn’t walk, she glided. Eyeing Jewel’s beautiful, long-legged stride, Colton was aware he wasn’t the only male avidly watching.

  And quite possibly he wasn’t the only one who thought he recognized her.

  But from where? Who was she? The niggling memory disturbed him. As a reporter, usually he excelled at remembering faces and names. But not hers. He couldn’t quite place her.

  She wasn’t a model or a Hollywood starlet. Someone else would have already matched her face to her name if she’d been prominent in mainstream media circles.

  Still, he would bet Jewel Smith, with her amazing poise and beauty, had been someone the media took notice of. Had she been the trophy wife of some millionaire? He couldn’t rule that possibility out. Odd how the thought of her with another man unsettled him.

  Watching as she left Los Hombres Mexican Restaurant, the only quiet woman in a crowd of chattering magpies, he rubbed the back of his neck. She affected him, and he knew it wasn’t merely because of her astounding beauty. There was something else, some other connection he couldn’t remember. He’d have to keep digging.

  The tortilla chip he’d been holding crumbled in his fingers, spraying crumbs all over the table. His lunch companion laughed.

  “She’s a beauty, all right.” Roy chuckled, digging his own chip into the bowl of spicy salsa.

  Sighing, Colton agreed. A friend from his Houston Channel Four days, Roy was in town to buy a boat. He’d called Colton, wanting to get together to talk about old times.

  Colton had told him he’d come to Anniversary to forget them. Old times were all jumbled together with horrific pain. He’d agreed to lunch, as long as the past wasn’t mentioned.

  Roy brought up his old job before the entrée was even served. “Do you ever miss working in a larger market, like Houston? You were something else. They’ve tried to fill your shoes, but no one’s been able to cut it. The guy working your old action segment is the fourth in two years.”

  “Really?” Reaching for a second chip, Colton kept his tone noncommittal. “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Roy leaned forward. “Tell me you don’t miss it.”

  “Miss what?”

  “The bright lights, the notoriety. The money. All the perks that came with being a popular newsperson.”

  “I don’t miss any of that at all. I’d prefer,” he said, taking a gulp of his Corona, “to concentrate on the present.”

  “On this?” Roy regarded him with an amused smile, taking a swig from his own beer. “You don’t even have your own local television station here.”

  “I like the newspaper.”

  “Right. How big is the circulation of that rag you work for, a couple thousand?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” With a shrug, Colton waved away his friend’s concern. “I didn’t come here for the glory. I came for the guts.”

  “Come on now.” Tone disbelieving, the other man wiped his mouth with his napkin, motioning the waitress over for another round. “I work for the guts.” Roy was a field correspondent for the national news. He regularly traveled into war zones and other dangerous places.

  “Okay, you got me there.” Colton kept his tone pleasant. “Even though my life is nothing like yours, I get my own kind of excitement here.”

  “Right.” Roy snorted. “What kind of guts can possibly be had here in this Podunk little town? The occasional robbery? A boat accident? A bunch of tourists get too drunk and someone drowns in the lake?”

  Since that pretty much summed up the stories he wrote these days, Colton didn’t answer. Instead, he drained his beer and scored the last chip from the basket before the waitress set down their meals.

  The food effectively distracted Roy, and for a few moments both men ate in silence.

  Roy polished off his enchiladas, his taco, and the beans and rice before pushing
back his plate.

  Pretending not to notice, Colton concentrated on his meal.

  “They sent me to make you an offer,” Roy said.

  Colton nearly choked on his taco. “What? Who?”

  “A job offer.” Nodding earnestly, Roy wadded up his napkin and tossed it on top of his empty plate. “Back with Channel Four. National exposure, with an increase in salary over what you used to make.” He named a figure, the number high enough to make Colton blink.

  Unfortunately, he had no need of money now.

  “Once, I would have jumped at your offer,” Colton began.

  “Go for it,” Roy urged. “Live again. Two years have passed, man. You’ve done your mourning. It’s time to move on with your life. You can’t hide out here in the boondocks forever.”

  Even thinking of returning to the fast-paced lifestyle he used to live made the food sour in Colton’s stomach. Shaking his head, he stood, dug in his pocket and tossed a twenty on the table. “My treat,” he said, moving away. “Enjoy your new boat.”

  Roy gave him a bemused nod, but didn’t try to stop him. No doubt he—and all the rest of Colton’s former co-workers at Channel Four—thought he’d lost his mind.

  And, Colton thought ruefully, maybe they were right.

  The newspaper offices were officially closed, due to the company picnic he never attended. Colton let himself in, relishing the unusual quiet of the deserted newsroom. The spicy enchiladas he’d managed to choke down earlier now sat like a burning lump of coal in his stomach. As he walked toward his cubicle, he popped a couple of antacids.

  The quiet of the newsroom acted like balm on his soul. Despite what Roy might think, Colton genuinely enjoyed his work now. Even before Angela had died, the pressure of his former job had begun to bother him. Now, he still got to do what he loved, though the pace was slower and the pressure nonexistent. The hours and the pay might be a lot less than what he’d been used to, but working at the Anniversary Beacon suited him just fine. This type of work was in his blood.

  He’d come here to see if he could dig up some dirt on Jewel Smith. While he hated his unreasonable obsession with the woman, he sensed she was connected to something that just might be newsworthy. Or so he told himself. Quite honestly, he wished he’d never seen her naked nor felt the eager press of her lips and supple body against his.