Howl Deadly
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Praise for the Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter Mysteries
Double Dog Dare
“An incredible writer who creates believable, intelligent characters. Double Dog Dare has a fun-filled, suspenseful story line that contains intrigue, mystery, murder, lots and lots of animals, and humor. Ms. Johnston’s wit, pacing, and dialogue make this cozy entry into the Pet-Sitter series a surefire winner.”
—Fresh Fiction
“[A] fast and fun read.”
—New Mystery Reader
The Fright of the Iguana
“Wonderful … I always enjoy the pet-sitting antics in this series. The author has done a great job of making the reader care about the animals. Plus their personalities really shine through. The Southern California [setting] is enjoyable as well.”
—Mystery Lovers Corner
Meow Is for Murder
“A humorous, cleverly constructed murder mystery … Intelligent … with an eccentric cast that infuses the plot with a sense of jocularity and pets that readers would love to adopt.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Kendra is such a fun … likable character. [There’s] plenty of humor along with a well-plotted cozy mystery.”
—Mystery Lovers Corner
Fine-Feathered Death
“A wonderful new addition to the ranks of amateur detectives … The well-timed humor … sets it above the current crowded crop of cozy mystery series. Johnston’s ability to blend pet love, mystery, and romance into one well-wrapped package makes this a summer treat for mystery and pet lovers alike.”
—Front Street Reviews
“Exciting … Johnston is a creative storyteller who not only writes a fascinating mystery but also creates a deep character study.”
—Books ’n’ Bytes
“A fast-paced who-done-it … Kendra is a fun character, and her supporting friends and assorted critters make an enjoyable read.”
—Fresh Fiction
“You’ll laugh out loud! Don’t read it when you have to be quiet!”
—Mystery Lovers Corner
Nothing to Fear but Ferrets
“Linda O. Johnston has a definite talent for infusing humor in just the right places … Pet lovers and amateur-sleuth fans will find this series deserving of an award as well as a place on the bestseller lists.”
—Midwest Book Review
Sit, Stay, Slay
“Very funny and exciting … Worthy of an award nomination … The romance in this novel adds spice to a very clever crime thriller.”
—The Best Reviews
“A brilliantly entertaining new puppy caper, a doggie-filled who-done-it … Johnston’s novel is a real pedigree!”
—Dorothy Cannell
“Pet-sitter sleuth Kendra Ballantyne is up to her snake-draped neck in peril in Linda O. Johnston’s hilarious debut mystery Sit, Stay, Slay. Witty, wry, and highly entertaining.”
—Carolyn Hart
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Linda O. Johnston
SIT, STAY, SLAY
NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FERRETS
FINE-FEATHERED DEATH
MEOW IS FOR MURDER
THE FRIGHT OF THE IGUANA
DOUBLE DOG DARE
NEVER SAY STY
HOWL DEADLY
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
HOWL DEADLY
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / December 2009
Copyright © 2009 by Linda O. Johnston.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
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375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-101-15184-6
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
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BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA)
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This book is dedicated to canines of all kinds—wild, tame, and in-between. To wolves in particular, those amazing animals who were both ancestors of our dogs today and are living evidence of how canines can survive—sometimes with protection—in the wild.
This dedication of course includes Cavalier King Charles spaniels—especially both Kendra’s and Linda’s Lexies, as well as Linda’s little Mystie.
This book is also dedicated to all those who care about and protect the wildlife of the world, both roaming free and saved in sanctuaries. To the local Los Angeles area sanctuaries, including Wildlife WayStation and the Shambala Preserve. To the Los Angeles Zoo and the Greater Los Angeles Zoo Association.
And no dedication would be complete without a mention of Linda’s husband, Fred. Linda already had her first Cavalier, Panda, when she met
Fred. Fred had to learn to get along with Panda to win over Linda—not always an easy task. Since then, Fred has patiently helped Linda care for a whole pack of Cavaliers, usually two at a time. And we all absolutely appreciate him for it!
Chapter One
“STILL INCREDIBLY ADORABLE,” I crooned.
“I’ll say,” said Dante DeFrancisco, right in my ear. When I glanced away from the sweet mama wolf and three nearly newborn pups in the glass-contained enclosure I’d been observing, I saw he was staring at me, not the latest arrivals at HotWildlife. Which made me shiver with a sensation I couldn’t quite identify—a combo of lust and anticipation and just plain old pleasure that this gorgeous, sexy, and, yes, super rich guy was hot for me, too.
I smiled and slowly turned away. I was absolutely enjoying everything about this long weekend away from the bustle of L.A., at the fringe of the nearby San Bernardino Mountains.
Visiting this amazing wild animal sanctuary, founded and funded by—who else? Dante.
I’m Kendra Ballantyne, L.A. attorney and proud pet-sitter, owner of Critter TLC, LLC. Not that I take care of wild creatures, but I’m an absolute animal aficionado, so I felt entirely in my element here at HotWildlife.
Right now, we were in the critical care infirmary, a long, low structure with attractive architectural details outside, state-of-the-art housing and veterinary facilities inside. The mother wolf was in a compact, glassed-in habitat where she could roam at will without straying far from her offspring. It was the babies’ dinnertime, and mama was lying contentedly on her side in an area covered with clean wood chips, nursing them.
“So how’s our adorable little family?” asked a voice from the nearest doorway to the observation area just outside the habitat.
“Just fine,” I responded to HotWildlife’s director and caregiver-in-chief, Megan Zurich.
I’d looked up the place online last week and learned that Megan was in her early forties, with substantial experience at zoos and other wild animal parks that gave her an excellent background for being here and in control. Her hair was long and blond, and pulled back with a barrette at the nape of her neck—most likely because she didn’t want her charges to be able to dig their claws into her tresses and tug them out. The golden lion’s-mane shade probably wasn’t natural but was streaked becomingly.
And, no, I wasn’t trying to be catty, despite the fact that the sanctuary was home not only to these wolves but also to lots of felines: several lions, tigers, servals, mountain lions, and even ligers—crosses between lions and tigers. Other mammals, too, such as coyotes. A great cross section of wild animals needing a safe haven where they could thrive. Mostly ones brought up in other sanctuaries or even as illegal pets, who hadn’t the skills or, sometimes, weren’t healthy enough to be released into the wild.
A few of them were in the infirmary. I heard occasional growls from an injured and aging coyote a few enclosures down, and some skittering from nearby raccoons.
“Can I come in?” One of the place’s volunteers squeezed around Megan’s shoulder, a guy named Anthony Pfalzer. He appeared to be of high school age, with a football player’s physique. Sweet, that someone so youthfully macho seemed to care so much about animals.
“Okay,” Megan said, moving out of the way, “but let’s all stay back so we don’t bother the nursing mother. She can see us through the glass as easily as we can see her.”
“Can we name her?” inquired another volunteer, who sidled in behind Anthony. “And the pups, too?” Her name was Krissy Kollings. To me, she looked like a Krissy: all cute and busty and wavy haired.
“Sure.” Megan moved to allow Krissy and Anthony to draw closer to the vast window opening onto the wolf habitat. “We haven’t had time to do that yet, not even with our little mother. She was brought here only last week, and gave birth almost immediately.”
I knew. Thanks to Dante staying in close touch with the people in charge of the facilities he funded, he’d learned immediately from Megan about the secretive, dead-of-night deposit here of the very pregnant gray wolf. He’d told me about it, and the instant I expressed an interest in being there for the big event, we were in his car, heading to the sanctuary. For that day, I’d left my adorable Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Lexie, in the charge of my assistant at Critter TLC, LLC.
Dante had staff in his home—his Malibu home—who could care for his smart and sweet German shepherd, Wagner. He also had part-time staff at his additional home near here, at the base of the San Bernardino Mountains. How many other houses did he maintain? Damned if I knew.
We’d been here to witness the miracle of the wild wolves’ birth. Then we headed home—and planned to come back for this long, lovely weekend, staying in Dante’s local residence with our pampered pets and visiting HotWildlife a lot, keeping an eye on the sweet wolf pups.
“I’ll bet Dante will come up with the greatest names, won’t you, Dante?” Krissy asked. She now stood on his other side, and she looked up adoringly into his eyes, one hand resting on the sleeve of his blue work shirt.
Krissy had been here during the birth, too. I’d seen how she stayed way too near Dante. Obviously had a crush on him, even though he had to be at least fifteen years her senior. I figured her for mid-twenties, and Dante was forty-two.
Me? I’m thirty-six. Not cute like Krissy, but okay to look at.
“Oh, I think I’ll leave that to others with more imagination than me,” Dante said, smiling sexily in my flattered direction. Guess he agreed with my assessment of my appearance.
But I wasn’t about to spout out a slew of perfect names. Instead, I asked Megan, “Why not hold a contest for the public to provide possible names? Maybe people could make a contribution that would entitle them to suggest something.” I glanced back at Dante, unsure whether he liked the idea of assistance in his charitable endeavors. He just winked at me.
A wink from those deep, dark, delicious eyes could have made me melt if we’d been alone. I caught Krissy’s sad-eyed gaze at her hero, as if he had dared to ignore her. Which he kinda had.
“Great idea!” Megan said. “We’ve done that before when rescued animals have been brought in. A mini wolf pack like this should draw a bunch of media attention, get us lots of donations.”
“I know a reporter who’d love something like this,” I said, hoping it was so. My sometimes-friend, tabloid reporter Corina Carey at National NewsShakers, was right on the spot when there were little things like petnappings from Hollywood notables, or—better yet, from her perspective—unsolved murders happening around me. A sweet thing like a rescued wolf and her new pups might not be as exciting.
And, yes, in case you haven’t watched Corina’s awful TV show or seen the other stuff in the news about me, in addition to being a lawyer and pet-sitter, I am, most unfortunately, also a murder magnet. I’ve been involved in solving a lot more killings than I like to think about. But surely that trend has to come to an end eventually.
Preferably immediately.
“Hey, how’s it going?” A skinny senior citizen with a goatee as gray as the hair on his head strolled in. He wore denim overalls with a white T-shirt beneath the bib as well as large bifocals perched on his parrot-beak nose. I’d met him before. He was a caretaker here at HotWildlife. His name was, incredibly, Jon Doe.
“Really well, Jon,” Megan told him. “Once she’s done nursing, though, I’d like to add some softer substrate for her to lie on with the pups. Any ideas?”
They talked it over for a while, discussing materials ranging from purified mulch to a fuzzy bathmat. The decision, though, was to mix some straw with the cedar chips. And if they happened to throw in some indestructible towels, too, that was fine. It would still be close to a natural habitat. Wolves in the wild might drag the softest stuff they could find into their lairs. With the way people disposed of their discards, that might, now and then, include toweling.
By the time they were done with the discussion, mama wolf was also through. She stood and strode away f
rom her little balls of fur—two black and one gray—who squealed unhappily at the abandonment. Still too small for their eyes to open, they didn’t see that mommy was only a few feet away, regarding them with both interest and exasperation in her intense wolfen eyes.
“Is her food ready to put inside the enclosure?” Megan asked Jon.
“Sure is,” he replied.
“Let me do it, please,” interjected Krissy. “I’d love to get closer to the mama wolf.”
“Not a good idea,” Megan chastised. “You know our routine. Only Jon or one of the other caretakers feeds our charges, so we don’t confuse or upset them with a lot of intruding humans or scents.”
Krissy appeared ready to protest, but she backed off when Dante shot her a stern look. She instead smiled and said, “Sure thing.”
We all stood around enjoying the scene a little longer, including when Jon Doe slipped into the enclosure via the back door and left a bowl of what Megan described as a nutritious packaged doggy food enhanced with stuff wolves might find in the wild.
I didn’t want to know more about the latter or how it was supplied. I had no doubt, though, that Dante had all the knowledge needed. And supplier sources. After all, he also owned HotPets, the biggest and best chain of pet supply stores in the country. It was how he’d made his millions.
Maybe. Despite the relationship I’d recently started with Dante, I knew there was a lot about him that I didn’t know. Secretive stuff about his past.
That perhaps was better left there.
No matter, for now. It was time for us to leave the sanctuary, but we’d be back tomorrow before heading to L.A.
AS WE DEPARTED in Dante’s sleek silver Mercedes, I called my pet-sitting assistant, Rachel Preesinger, who also happens to be the daughter of the tenant in my Hollywood Hills home.