Howl Deadly

by Linda O. Johnston

  Me? I live in the apartment over the garage. I moved in there over a year ago when I had problems with my law career that left me unable to pay the mortgage without assistance. I’d been accused of unethical conduct, and consequently fired from my high-powered L.A. firm. Of course I’d been exonerated, but I’d come to enjoy my revised lifestyle, so Lexie and I still reside in our home sweet garage.

  “Everything okay with our clients, Rachel?” I asked, watching as Dante and I moved from the narrow drive leading to HotWildlife onto the highway. Lots of cars around, even in this rural area.

  “They’re all just fine,” she told me. “Wanda’s checked in with me, too, about the couple she’s taken on till you get back.”

  “Great.” Wanda Villareal was a fellow member of the Pet-Sitters Club of SoCal who also owned a Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Basil. Plus, she was the girlfriend of my dearest friend in the world, Darryl Nestler, owner of Doggy Indulgence Day Resort. I’d been able to take the weekend away after getting the okay from my clients to substitute sitters. Even so, taking such time away was a real rarity for me. “See you tomorrow,” I finished, and hung up.

  I glanced at Dante and found his gaze on me for a moment; then it returned to the road. Lord, he was one handsome dude, even dressed casually in an ordinary blue work shirt and jeans, with his well-defined features, deep brown eyes, and black, wavy hair. And a smile that was especially smoldering just then.

  “Everything okay?” He repeated the question I’d asked Rachel. He’d never met me during my high-powered law days, when my hair was highlighted and my garb was usually lady-lawyer dressy. Now, I kept my untouched-up brown hair shoulder length and wore suits only during my less frequent forays to legal meetings and court.

  “Sure thing,” I said, and sat back, crossing my blue-jeaned legs—still observing him from the corner of my eye, one of my favorite pastimes these days.

  I’m not going to give any details about our excellent evening. Not many, at least. Suffice it to say that our dogs were delighted to see us. This time, we had brought them both to the area and left them in Dante’s home. Before it got dark, we all four took a walk in the thick, fresh-smelling woods surrounding Dante’s rustic mountain cabin.

  Well, kinda rustic. It looked like hewn logs from the outside, but it was big and had all the amenities imaginable inside.

  Including household help who ensured we all ate well after our walk, doggies included.

  And despite its locale off the beaten track, the cabin was behind a big gate in a fence surrounding the property.

  Lexie on my lap and Wagner on the floor beside the comfy leather sofa at Dante’s feet, we watched business news, including the behavior of the big, bad stock market, on the large HD TV in the den. Dante was apparently a substantial investor, hopefully sprinkling his huge fortune around wisely. He didn’t seem especially upset that night, and when we went to bed …

  Well, that’s the part that’ll remain private.

  NEXT MORNING, SUNDAY, we headed back to HotWildlife. I loved the look of it from the outside, a wrought-iron fence surrounding a huge sanctuary containing lots of habitats, each designed specially for each species of inhabitant. Inside, I meandered along the walkway and glanced in at sleeping tigers, standing lions, and pacing coyotes, Dante holding my hand. In the distance, I noticed Jon Doe head inside a nondescript building. “That’s where supplies are stored,” Dante responded to my inquiry.

  Then we headed for the attractive critical-care structure. The wolf pups were nursing yet again. Surprise! At their young age, I assumed they did a lot of that. Today there were dozens of observers standing outside the glass, viewing them. Members of the public were encouraged to visit. And to contribute.

  Several volunteers, including Anthony and Krissy, were leading tour groups of ten visitors each. Most seemed eager to stay and watch the wolves, but the tour guides were adept at encouraging them to move on.

  “Hi,” Anthony said as he led his gang to the exit. I gave my own greeting back, as did Dante.

  Two more groups departed while Krissy and her gang remained. She soon sidled in our direction—especially toward Dante.

  “How are you this morning, Krissy?” he asked her in a pleasant tone.

  “Wonderful!” she gushed, looking as happy as if he’d asked her out on a date.

  “Glad to hear it,” I interjected. “I just love to watch that mother wolf and her pups, don’t you?”

  She tore her gaze from Dante, shot me a brief smile as if I didn’t exactly exist, then said, “Well, gotta go. I have visitors to show around.” She leaned conspiratorially toward Dante. Standing on her toes despite her open sandals beneath her capri slacks, she said, “I’ll try to get them all to give HotWildlife lots of money. They seem interested in paying to try to name the baby wolves.”

  “Great!” I said as Dante nodded his approval.

  She soon departed, and Megan joined us near the wolf den. Most of the crowd was gone now.

  “They look like they’re thriving,” I said, my tone a little quizzical.

  She nodded. “They’re getting along just fine.”

  We observed for a few more minutes.

  “Ready to head home?” Dante eventually asked, sounding as reluctant as I felt.

  “I sure am,” I said anyway. “I need to take back my pet-sitting tonight.”

  “Oh, yes—Dante told me you’re a pet-sitter,” Megan said. “I guess you understand what it’s like to want to take care of all these animals this way.”

  I nodded. “But I doubt I’d do as well with so many, especially wildlife, the way you do.”

  She smiled and accompanied us as we walked out of the building.

  Jon Doe came up to us, pushing a cart laden with containers of animal food. “Hey, thanks for stopping by again,” the grizzled older guy said. He was dressed once more in a T-shirt and grungy overalls. “Guess we’ll be getting in some more high-quality stuff for these creatures’ habitats pretty soon. Beats the wilderness, doesn’t it? Shelters from bad weather and enemies—whoever they may be—and at least what feels like safety to them. Love ’em all, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. I noticed a strange look pass between Dante and Doe, but only for a second. Might even have imagined it, since afterward they shook hands.

  “Keep up the good work,” Dante told the caretaker.

  “Count on it,” was the enthusiastic reply.

  We took one more meander around the compound, avoiding the gangs of visitors whenever possible. I particularly paid attention to where Krissy was with her crowd, so we could go the other way.

  And then we left, drove to Dante’s “shack,” and picked up our pups. Dante’s part-time housekeepers were there, and we soon said goodbye. We were back at my place about two hours later, after stopping for supper.

  “Care to come in?” I asked Dante, bending down to pat Wagner’s smooth-furred head.

  To my delight, they stayed the night. Never mind that my digs would have fit in the foyer at Dante’s Malibu mansion. We were definitely comfortable here. As we’d been in the mountains. Or wherever.

  I WASN’T SURE what time it was when a song startled me awake. Not my cell phone.

  Dante’s. Ringing at not quite five in the morning.

  He groped from where he lay near me in my small but comfortable bed. His phone was on the table by his side.

  “Hello?” he grumbled with obvious irritation at being awakened this way. Had he recognized the number? He sure had. “This better be important, Megan. You know how early it is?”

  I heard a muffled female voice from the other end, though I couldn’t make out what she said.

  But suddenly Dante sat straight up in bed, his large hand gripping the phone to his cheek—now covered in sexy dark shadow. His scowl would have made my heart skip had it been leveled at me, but he stared, apparently unseeing, across the room. We’d shut the dogs in the kitchen last night before heading for bed, and I heard them stirring in ther
e.

  “What do you mean, missing?” Dante demanded.

  My hot body suddenly chilled. Something was obviously very wrong.

  Who was missing?

  I found out a minute later as he flipped his phone shut and looked at me with an expression that was clearly furious.

  “It’s the mother wolf,” he said. “She’s no longer with her pups, and the HotWildlife staff can’t find her anywhere.”

  Chapter Two

  I MADE SOME calls to ensure that my pet charges—whose owners’ consent had already been obtained—would be superbly cared for again by Rachel and Wanda. Then Dante and I raced back to HotWildlife. It was Dante’s passion and mission, and he had to find out what had happened.

  Me, too. Maybe because I was hooked on the place’s admirable objectives. Maybe because I had kinda met the missing mama wolf—or at least had observed and fallen for her.

  And maybe it was because I’d solved several mysteries during the past few months—including locating petnapped clients—and I hoped I could help with this situation, too.

  Even so, I had a sense of guilt for not being there for my own pet-sitting responsibilities.

  This time, I left Lexie home. Wagner was with her. He got along fine with my pup and with Rachel’s lovely Irish setter, Beggar, short for Begorrah. And Rachel would take tremendous care of them all.

  Dante’s silver Mercedes passed nearly everyone on the 210 Freeway heading east toward the San Bernardino Mountains. He seemed undaunted by the potential of getting a ticket. He glanced now and then into the rearview mirror, but that was his standard driving technique. Because he had intended to go home before heading for his office, he didn’t have a change of clothes, so he once again wore his sexily casual outfit from yesterday.

  Maybe, if we continued to see each other this way, it would make sense for him to keep some stuff at my place, and vice versa. But I was far from ready to suggest that.

  “You promised to tell me what we know so far about the missing wolf,” I reminded him after we’d gone a ways and chatted about unrelated things, like a new brand of healthy pet food soon to be sold by HotPets.

  He looked over at me, then back to the road. “She arrived at HotWildlife only last week,” he said. “Brought in by a guy who claimed to have found her wandering in some mountainside woods near his home—not far from HotWildlife. He tried to shoo her away, but she wouldn’t go. And then he realized she was pregnant. He managed to coax her into the enclosed bed of his pickup and drove her to HotWildlife.”

  “Sounds possible,” I said. “So does that mean he adopted mama wolf as a pet, then decided she was too much to care for when he realized she was about to present him with more needy wild puppies?”

  “Could be.”

  “And if so, maybe now that the pups have been born, he’s started missing his pet and stolen her back.”

  Dante’s dark eyes looked into the rearview mirror, and I noticed that cars around us on the busy freeway seemed suddenly to go faster. Or maybe we were slowing down. Had he seen a cop car notice him?

  After a moment, he continued our conversation. “Megan considered that. She already contacted him. He denies that he came back for the mama, claims she wasn’t ever his pet, and even if she had been, he wouldn’t take her away from her newborn pups. Too cruel to all of them.”

  “Sounds like a good man,” I replied. “Maybe.”

  “Cynic.” Dante aimed a grin toward me as we were passed by a California Highway Patrol car that apparently had no issue with his current speed. I assumed it was around the limit, judging by the other cars that kept us company.

  “Realist,” I countered.

  We talked more about how he’d founded HotWildlife seven years earlier, and some of the magnificent creatures the sanctuary had helped to save.

  Soon, we approached that wonderful locale.

  The place was crowded enough that Dante had a hard time locating a spot in the large, open parking lot. “Do you think word’s out about the missing wolf?” I asked as he pulled into a space that seemed skinny yet accommodated the roomy sedan.

  “More likely, word is out about her pups, and people are here to see them.”

  Turned out we were both right. The crowd was biggest around the entry to the indoor infirmary. Some of the same people I’d seen there yesterday, visitors and tourists and animal friends, milled around outside. A couple recognized Dante.

  “Are you here because of the missing wolf, Dante?” called a tall, familiar-looking guy right near the door.

  “That’s right. And there’ll be a reward for information leading to her safe return.” Dear Dante. He was adept at getting attention for something important to him—at a cost, of course. “Can anyone here share any suspicions?”

  A lot of people did, including the guy who’d spoken. His name was Irwin, and he claimed to be a frequent visitor to HotWildlife. “Ransom,” he suggested. “A lot of people know your relationship to this animal park, and someone might figure you’d pay a lot for the wolf while she’s nursing, so her pups don’t suffer.”

  “Good thought,” Dante said. “But no ransom note, at least not yet.”

  Not necessarily a good thing. My earlier petnapping situation had involved notes and nonsense, and I’d recovered all animals. But that was a whole other story.

  Other people in the crowd tossed out possibilities, from an employee’s carelessness that allowed the wolf mom to sneak away for a while, to a hidden hole in the infirmary floor where she’d gotten caught.

  “We’ll continue to check out the entire facility,” Dante assured them, “but our able staff has already combed the area. We believe she’s gone, and we’re worried about both her and her babies.”

  “We’ll make sure the public’s aware of the missing wolf,” I said, looking to Dante for confirmation that he didn’t dislike the idea. He nodded. Soon as I had a chance, I’d call my usual media contact, Corina Carey.

  We soon gently shouldered our way past the crowd and into the infirmary. Megan met us at the door.

  “Any sign of the mama wolf?” I asked.

  Her face was nearly as pale as her light hair. I noticed again that her golden brown eyes were as attractive as many felines’ I’d seen. Maybe that was what had gotten her interested in tending to wild cats. She wore a beige safari outfit with a many-pocketed vest.

  “None,” she said dejectedly.

  The back door opened at the far end of the hall, between the infirmary’s glassed-in enclosures. Jon Doe hurried in, followed by a raft of sanctuary volunteers, including Anthony, Krissy, and others I’d seen before. Megan pivoted to look at them. But their bleak expressions solidified the situation. They hadn’t found mama wolf.

  I pondered the other inhabitants of the infirmary, but an injured coyote and cagy raccoons would have left evidence had they attempted to eat the wolf.

  “Show me the habitat and tell me how you think she got out—or was taken out,” Dante demanded.

  The only way they could figure was through the sole back door. It was kept locked, and the only key was in the sanctuary director’s office. And the door to the office was mostly kept locked at night, when there was only a skeleton staff keeping an eye on the residents.

  The baby wolves were still in the enclosure, huddled together.

  Surely, no one was allowing them to starve. I asked Megan, “How are you taking care of them with their mother gone?”

  “By pretending as much as possible to be her. Want to give a baby a bottle?”

  “Me?” I squeaked, and then considered it. “Heck, yeah. I thought only the caretakers could feed the animals.”

  “This is a special situation. We need additional help. And nurturing the babies—well, at this age they’re not a lot different from doggy pups.”

  With no further fuss, and on Megan’s okay, Jon Doe led me into the area behind the enclosures and showed me to a plastic chair. Then he handed me a small bottle with wolf formula, I supposed, and a nipple that w
as soft and long and might have resembled a mama wolf’s—who knew?

  “I’ve done this before at other animal sanctuaries,” he explained at my inquiry.

  And then he handed me a baby.

  The little wolf was a small bundle of gray fur, eyes closed, mouth working the nipple voraciously. All I could do, sitting there with that pup in my lap, was smile and coo and make baby talk, as if I held a human infant.

  Eventually, she stopped sucking and seemed to fall asleep. I looked up and noticed two others similarly engaged with the other pups: Jon Doe and Krissy. I didn’t know where Dante was, but suspected he was outside somewhere attempting to track mama wolf—or her evil abductor.

  Eventually, I handed my baby to Megan, hating to give her up.

  “You can do it again soon, if you’re still around,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I responded gratefully.

  We went back to the outside of the glassed-in enclosure. No visitors were permitted in just then, so it was empty.

  Until a guy burst through the door, followed by an obviously angry Dante.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Dante demanded.

  “I want some answers,” the guy said. He was short and stocky, with curly gray hair behind a receding hairline. “I brought that wolf here expecting her to be taken care of—her and her babies, whenever they were born. I’m here today because Megan Zurich called and all but accused me of stealing her back. I should have found someplace else to care for her. This sanctuary sucks.”

  “This,” Megan said, glaring at him, “is Warren Beell. He brought the wolf here in the first place, but that doesn’t give him the right to insult—”

  “It gives him the right to question us,” Dante interjected smoothly. “Just as we have the right to question him.”

  “You have no right to ask me anything,” Beell yelled. “Especially since the questions I was asked before were nearly an accusation. I did nothing wrong. All I did was bring the wolf here. And look what happened to her.”

  The guy seemed justifiably upset. Maybe.