He swiped the screen to bring up the time function. Nine.
Shit. He’d fallen asleep.
Had she come home and found him? Were police on their way?
Panic hit him and he struggled to untangle his arms and legs from the quilts and blankets he’d wrapped around himself in the cold of the night. Sitting with his legs over the side of the bed, he froze and clenched the linens in his gloved hands. He heaved in some air, forcing himself to stay still and listen. At first the drumming of the pulse in his head sounded like someone pounding on the door. Slowly, with each breath, the pounding dimmed. Nothing but the whirring of the furnace broke the almost eerie silence of the condo.
Careful not to make any noise, he walked through her home—past the mess he’d made when he’d trashed it in his frenzy to punish her last night. Collecting his spray paint cans, he hurried out of the apartment and downstairs to the front entrance. He opened the door to find the world had been transformed into an arctic winter wonderland.
Once again, eerie silence greeted him. Nothing moved. No cars. No people. Ice covered all the trees and hung like long daggers from the branches and the edges of the houses’ gutters. Everything else was white. Snow lay on everything and judging from the height of it against the cars, at least half a foot had fallen during the night.
Most importantly, there were no footprints. Anywhere.
Which meant the whore had spent the night with the man from her office.
Laughter bubbled up inside him. He might be trapped inside her home, but no one was going to worry or wonder about him. All of Cincinnati was trapped somewhere.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Howling outside, penetrated the passionate fog in Chloe’s brain from the heated kiss.
“What was that?” she asked, pulling away and swinging her gaze towards the cabin door.
Wes released his hold on her, ran his hands through his hair and seemed to be measuring what his answer would be. “That would be Wöden,” he finally said.
“And Wöden is?” she left room for him to answer.
“The original Wöden was the Old Saxon name for Odin and god of the hunt.”
The howling started again.
Chloe moved away from him. “That is not some fictitious mythological deity, Wes. It sounds like a wolf.”
“Techincally, he’s part wolf, part Siberian Husky,” he said, heading for the door where his coat hung. “At least I think it’s Husky. Might be some kind of shepherd.”
She moved in the opposite direction. “You have a pet wolf?”
“Wolf hybrid. And he’s not really my pet. Just a sometimes roommate,” he said as he opened the door.
“You’re not seriously going to let him in here?” She moved behind the overstuffed chair by the fire.
As the room chilled from the open door, a gray and white form emerged from the snow and onto the porch, where it shook and snow flew around him. Wöden had the long snout and big head of a wolf. He stood in the doorway, his piercing blue eyes taking in the room, sniffing for a moment or two, then he carefully entered the cabin.
“Stay very still and let him get your scent,” Wes said in a calm voice as he closed the cabin door, making her wonder if he was trying to calm the wild animal in the room, or her.
The magnificent creature moved through the room to her side, once again sniffing her. Feet first, then up her leg to where her hand hung loosely. She forced herself to stay still, even when he lowered his ears and rubbed her fingers with his cold nose.
With a whimper, he turned and headed to the fireplace, curling up on the faded, Amish braid rug lying on the hearth and promptly closed his eyes.
“Oh, my God,” Chloe whispered. Her legs suddenly wobbly, she managed to move around to the front of the chair and plop down on it, the thick pillows letting her sink lower. “That didn’t just happen.”
“He likes you,” Wes said with a grin, coming to perch on the leather couch.
“I’m glad. I was afraid there for a moment, he’d decided my fingers would make a good snack.”
Wes chuckled. “Not to worry. He tends to like a little more meat in his meals. His appearance has just determined what we’ll be eating tonight, though.”
“And that would be?”
“Steak. Venison, actually.”
“Is that what you usually feed him?” she asked, watching the animal sleeping peacefully at her feet.
“He’s pretty easy. When he’s here, it’s usually because the weather is inclement like now. So, he’s happy with anything I serve him.”
“Then why venison tonight?”
“That’s what I gave him for the first meal he had here.” A flash of sadness crossed his features.
“How did he come to be here?”
“I found him making himself at home in a deer blind the first winter I was in town.”
“A deer blind?”
“A place to hide and wait for deer to come foraging for food in the late fall, during deer hunting season.” Wes leaned back on the couch, crossing one leg up to his rest ankle to the opposite knee. “I have to confess it wasn’t deer season and I wasn’t exactly planning to hunt any deer. When I came back from my last mission, I was in a bad place.” He stared at her, his blue eyes wanting her to understand. “A very, very dark place.”
It took her a moment, then realization hit her. “Oh. Ohhh,” she said, voicing her understanding.
He’d planned to kill himself out in the woods. Whatever happened on that mission must’ve been horrific. She couldn’t imagine a man as stoic and intense as Wes Strong even contemplating taking his own life, much less actually carrying out on such a plan.
Instead of pressing for more information, she waited, the crackling of the wood on the fire the only sound in the cabin for a few moments.
“I hiked deep into the woods, almost stumbling into the deer blind. In the corner was this half-starved, half-grown pup. Someone had shot him in the leg and it was infected, as well as infested with maggots.”
Chloe scrunched her face at the image his words manifested. “The poor thing.”
“Yes, but despite his injuries and the malnourishment, he was still a feisty little fellow. Nearly bit my hand off several times when I first tried to help him.”
“How did you get him to let you?”
The corners of Wes’s lips twitched. “The age-old parental trick.”
“Bribery.” She smiled at him. “I seem to recall Bobby doing that when she first took over parenting Dylan and me. Worked. Also got us to trust her to make the decisions that needed making.”
Wes nodded. “I had some venison jerky in my coat pocket I’d bought from Joe over at the Knobs & Knockers hardware store the day before.”
“Knobs and Knockers?” she asked, shaking her head at the oddly suggestive name for the hardware store. “Where do the people in this town come up with these kitschy names?”
He shrugged. “Not sure, but you have to admit, they’re more memorable than Joe’s Hardware or Twylla’s Salon.”
“True.” They exchanged a grin and she was glad to lighten the conversation a little. “Sorry I interrupted. Go on with your story.”
“Thank you. So, I broke off a little piece and laid it about a foot away from Wöden. He sniffed at it, but his stomach overrode his sense of self-preservation and he inched out to take it. But as soon as he had it, he’d scoot back into his corner.”
“How long did it take for you to get him to come out and stay?”
“Until the pouch of jerky was half empty and I’d poured him some water from my thermos into a small cup I found abandoned in the stand.” He got a faraway gaze in his eye, as if her were back in that deer blind with that small injured pup. “I spent the night there, blocking the door from any predators making their way inside, but to keep him from going anywhere. I needed to clean his wounds if he was ever going to heal.”
Again, he paused. This time his eyes were a little red.
She waited.
“In the morning, I woke to find him lying at my feet.”
“Really? He must’ve figured you’d protect him.”
“That, or he really was hoping for more food,” Wes said with a chuckle. “Either way, I used the jerky to coax him not only out of the deer blind, but through the woods to the cabin. I wasn’t sure about letting him into the cabin at first, but Mother Nature took that out of my hands.”
“How?”
“Sort of like today. We had a snowstorm and the temps plummeted to under zero. I found that old rug in the closet, put in front of the hearth and the little fellow just made himself at home.”
Once again Chloe got the feeling that not only did the half-wolf dog knew he could trust Wes, but he probably knew the deputy needed as much saving as he did that winter.
“Did he finally let you see to his wounds?”
“Yeah. Doc Haverman, the town vet, made a house call and checked him out. He helped me debride the wound, taught me how to put the antibiotic stuff on it and wrap it up. We also talked about feeding Wöden wild game, since that was what he was used to. I wanted to get him back out in the wild as soon as he was healthy enough and the weather broke.”
“And you’ve been friends ever since,” she said, with a smile.
“More like I’m the gate keeper to the dry, warm indoor space he enjoys and whose presence he tolerates.” Wes rose, went to the kitchen and rummaged through the freezer, finally setting some plastic bags on the counter. Then he searched a cabinet before returning with his laptop and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. He tossed the cookies at her and settled back onto the leather sofa.
Chloe tore open the bag of cookies and took out a handful. “How did you know I love these?”
He shrugged. “Wasn’t sure of the brand or kind, but I’ve been around you enough to know you have tons of nervous energy. I suspect you think better when you’re munching.”
She grinned. “I do. You are very observant.”
“Details are very important. It’s what keeps you alive in dangerous situations.”
“You’ve been in a lot of those type of situations, haven’t you?”
Another of those dark looks crossed his features. Quickly gone as he opened his lap top once more. “Past history. Right now, we have your safety to secure. Let’s see if we can add anyone to our list of potential stalkers.”
Chloe let him divert her to her own problem. But if he believed this topic was closed, he was sorely mistaken. It was only a matter of time before he’d have to tell her about the dark secret in his past. If not, it might destroy him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“How were things with the town council?” Bobby asked Gage when he stepped into the sheriff’s office and stood stomping the snow off his boots on the mat. Next, he shrugged like a shaggy dog, knocking the snow that had started falling again off his coat and baseball hat. She had to admit, the new beard he was growing transformed him into the rugged outdoorsman—and didn’t that get her heart beating faster?
“Tobias and Harold have the town maintenance crews working on salting down the sidewalks, hopefully to keep anyone from getting injured, especially over at the courthouse and city hall.” He filled his mug with coffee and sat behind his desk, taking a drink. “Deke has the volunteer firemen helping dig out people in the new subdivision and the paramedics are shadowing the electrical line crews, in case there’s injuries with the downed powerlines.”
He took another drink, savoring the hot brew with an ahh. “How have things been here?”
“Libby emailed me the list of seniors living in the outskirts of town and on farms. We divided it up between us and the Baptist Ladies. Most of them are doing well. They prepared early.” She laughed.
“What?” Gage asked with one brow lifted at her.
“Just something funny happened when I called Mr. Murphy. He told me, and I quote, Mrs. Deputy, I’ve weathered many a winter storm. Got plenty of wood for the fire, the pantry is stocked with food, and the Mrs. has three new jigsaw puzzles. Take more than a little wind and snow to put us under.”
“Mrs. Deputy?” Gage lifted one brow at her.
She shrugged, coming over to sit on the corner of his desk. “Apparently the sheriff marrying one of his deputy has the elderly citizens a bit confused as to what to call me. I kind of like it.”
“I do, too.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “So everyone was accounted for, Mrs. Deputy?”
“Unfortunately, no.” She handed him the paper in her other hand. “There are about ten families, other than the Amish on the north side of the county, we haven’t been able to get ahold of. When I called Daniel, he was already on his way in. So he and Cleetus each piled a snowmobile onto their trucks and were headed out to check on them.”
Gage studied the paper in front of him, then reached for the county map. “They didn’t happen to take the sat phones with them, did they? Cell service is sketchy out there on a good day.”
“First thing Daniel grabbed,” she said, returning to her desk. “They also took a first-aid kit and were stopping by the Peaches ’N Cream for thermoses of coffee. Knowing Pete and Lorna, they were probably laden down with soup and biscuits for anyone in need of it.”
Out of habit, she picked up her cell phone to check for any calls or messages from Chloe.
“Did you talk to your sisters?” Gage asked. They’d been together for less than a year and the man could already tell when she was worrying.
“I got a little longer chat with Dylan. She was between cases. Apparently, a car full of college students thinking a trip in a blizzard was a good idea until they plowed into a stranded car has her with several surgeries this afternoon. Luckily, nothing fatal.”
“That’s good news. Any word on Chloe?”
She shook her head. “No. Dylan hasn’t heard from her either. And that’s got me worried. Chloe lives by her phone. I tried the law office. Apparently, it’s closed for the next two days.” She picked up her pen and started tapping it on the desk. “I know you think I’m being an over-protective big sister, but it’s not like Chloe to go silent on me. Not even as a teenager. Something is very wrong.”
* * * * *
The nearly two feet of snow blanketing the area was a royal pain in the ass, but it also benefited the plan. Work wouldn’t question an absence today or maybe even tomorrow. Which would leave plenty of time to take care of exacting revenge on the man who caused Isaac’s death—Wes Strong.
He’d been an elusive target for the past six years. Six years of living his life, while Isaac had been dead and buried six feet under. A brother who hadn’t deserved to die in some jungle thousands of miles from home.
Dead because Wes Strong hadn’t taken care to keep him alive.
* * * * *
“Besides your boss and the big corporation, who else do you think might want to hurt you?” Wes said, fingers poised over his keyboard once more, glad to be back on the track of her stalker and out of the memories that haunted him. He’d never talked about that night in the deer stand with anyone. Voicing his near suicide aloud made him feel like a coward. Yet, Chloe understood without judging him. Would she be as empathetic if she knew he’d gotten so many good men killed?
Chloe didn’t answer and he suspected she might fight the switch in topic, but after a moment she simply nodded. “There’s Joe Whitehead.”
“The former football strong-safety? That Joe Whitehead?” Okay, that threw him a curveball. He hadn’t expected a sports hero to pop onto her stalker-possibility list.
“The one and the same.”
“Isn’t he serving time for spousal abuse?”
“Actually, it’s twenty years for assault and kidnapping his wife. It was his fourth offense. He got the maximum.”
Wes typed the name onto the list of suspects then paused. “I thought you were a corporate lawyer. What does this domestic violence case have to do with you?”
Chloe gave a little shrug and shifted in her seat. “I do pro
bono work in my spare time. Joe’s wife Tamika was a high school friend of mine. I filed the restraining orders against him for her. He kept violating them. When one of Joe’s punches landed her in the ICU with a broken eye socket, it was the last time. With no college education or job skills, she didn’t have any money of her own and no way to support her children. Before the prosecution went after Joe’s freedom, I went after his money in her divorce.”
“How much did you take him for?”
The question bristled her. She’d heard more than one male lawyer and client claim women were always out for more money than they deserved. She sat straight up in her seat, pointing a finger at Wes. “I didn’t take him for anything. Why is it men always assume a woman wants to take a man for everything he has? Shouldn’t she get some compensation for being his personal punching bag?”
Wöden lifted his head to stare at the pair of them.
Wes held up his hands in submission. “Whoa, there counselor. I didn’t say she shouldn’t. Personally, I think any man who treats a woman like that deserves to lose everything he holds dear.”
The sincerity on his face eased some of her ire, slightly. She sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and tapping her foot on the floor as she stared out into the snow falling once more outside the cabin window, tears of frustrated anger burning her eyes. A moment later, the large grey and white wolf-dog nuzzled her foot. She froze. Then Wöden moved to slip his head under her hand. Carefully, she rubbed her hand in his thick fur. The action gave her comfort.
“I fought for my client and friend to have enough money for a nice home in a safe area of another town and to pay their bills and for her education so she could get the skills necessary to support her kids. The judge awarded her more than we’d asked for. I was very proud of Tamika. She asked me to use the extra money to set up education accounts for her kids and trust funds in case anything happened to her.”
“Sounds like a very sensible woman.”
Shaking her head, Chloe continued to run her hands through Wöden’s fur. “She wasn’t always. That’s how she ended up with Joe in the first place. She believed marrying a famous athlete would make her famous and living the bling life without any worries.”
Close To Danger (Westen Series Book 4) Page 11
