Carson seemed to rally. “You’re so right. Mom would want me to step up and keep things running smoothly. I’ll head back and let Evie know there was a wolf attack. Come with me, V.”
Veronica’s glossy lips twitched into a frown. “I told you, it’s Veronica. And I’ll stick around here, thanks.”
I watched as Carson marched toward the visitors’ center on his self-imposed mission.
Veronica went over to Rich and patted his arm. I sank down onto a large rock, unable to look toward the enclosure in case the wolves had started to chew on Shaun again.
It seemed to take forever, but finally a police officer and another man made their way toward us. As they got closer, I realized that the second man was an animal control officer.
One cop and one animal control officer to three man-eating wolves seemed a poor ratio.
Rich stepped over and began talking with the police officer, who looked thoroughly disturbed by the attack. I glanced at Veronica, who was staring into the enclosure with an almost morbid fascination. Her thesis had just gotten real, in the most horrifying way ever.
The police officer nodded toward us, introducing himself as Sergeant Jacob Hardy. He said we needed to stick around for questions, but his first priority was to get the body out of the enclosure.
Rich led the two men toward the gate, and after some brief back-and-forth, Sergeant Hardy unsheathed his gun. The animal control officer also retrieved a gun with a long, thin barrel that I assumed contained a knockout dart or something along those lines. Rich unlocked the first fence, shouting to shoo the wolves away from the body. The animals responded with a few weak yips, then they split up and trotted off to observe from a safe distance. From the covert way they watched the intruders, it was clear they had some idea of what guns were. Had any of them seen guns before, or could they instinctively feel they were in mortal danger?
After a brief examination, Sergeant Hardy must have pronounced Shaun dead, because he pulled a body bag from his rucksack. As the men proceeded to wrestle Shaun’s chewed-on remains into the bag, I had to look away again.
Veronica, however, watched with widened eyes. Although she was likely in shock, she gave off the vibe of being more fearful than sad about Shaun’s death. I found her hard to relate to. Shaun had been such a friendly guy, the kind of person everyone would have liked, and now his life had been cut dreadfully short. Surely Veronica knew what a blow this would be to his family, since she was probably close to his age.
As the men came out, locking both gates behind them, I finally started to breathe normally again. Other officers had arrived on the scene. Two of them carried the body bag back to the visitors’ center, while others began to tape off the area and take pictures.
I stayed seated as Veronica edged over toward Sergeant Hardy, probably anxious to get the scoop.
The sergeant pulled out hand sanitizer and passed it over to Rich and the animal control officer.
Rich thanked him, a thoughtful look on his face. “Those wolves are hungry. That shouldn’t be the case.”
“Looked like some kind of feeding frenzy to me,” Sergeant Hardy said.
The animal control officer was grim. “If it had been a true feeding frenzy, they wouldn’t have left as much of him.”
Rich gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “Oddest thing I ever saw. Doesn’t make sense. He hadn’t even pulled his pepper spray.”
Sergeant Hardy stared at Rich. “He had pepper spray?”
“We all do—in the vest pockets.”
The sergeant nodded. “I’ll make note of that and find out if it was on him. There’s also the possibility that it malfunctioned—but in that case, he probably would have dropped it nearby.”
Veronica leaned into the conversation. “I’d be happy to answer your questions,” she interjected. “We came along just after Rich and Belinda found him.”
I had the sinking feeling that Veronica was going to pump the sergeant for information—information she could use for writing her thesis.
As Sergeant Hardy turned his full attention to Veronica, the wolves converged on their bloodstained massacre site. A fresh wave of nausea swept over me.
I closed my eyes as Veronica droned on for a while. When she finally stopped talking, I slowly cracked my eyelids and peered out.
Sergeant Hardy towered in front of me, a solemn look on his face. “Excuse me, but are you Belinda? Would you mind answering a few quick questions?”
“I don’t mind. No problem. And my full name is Belinda Blake,” I noted.
He extended a strong hand and helped me to my feet, then he pulled out a small notebook and a pencil.
“I understand you’re a new employee here?”
“Yes, I just started today, actually.”
He asked me several different ways if I’d noticed anything strange about this wolf pack—as if I knew what a normal wolf pack looked like. He seemed to be growing more agitated with my vague answers, and finally he asked pointedly, “But why would you want to work at a place like this?”
That seemed quite unprofessional, even downright hateful, toward Dahlia’s legitimate place of business. I assured him that the owner and employees had seemed competent when I’d signed on for the job. I further shared that Shaun had been quite friendly with Njord just yesterday.
Sergeant Hardy’s lips were set in a forbidding line, his animosity thinly veiled.
I decided to make an educated guess and asked a question of my own. “Has something like this happened before at White Pine?”
Sergeant Hardy opened his mouth as if he wanted to answer, but two officers jogged over and began to fill him in on tasks they had completed. The sergeant waved me away, so I walked over to Rich, who still lingered by the fence line.
“I’m so sorry you had to see this, and on your first day here,” Rich said. “This never should have happened.”
“I agree.” I wished I could walk off the preserve and never return, but everyone would be stretched even thinner with one tour guide down and Dahlia in Arizona. Plus, I had signed the contract. If I bailed on a pet-sitting job, it would certainly damage my reputation in Greenwich circles.
Rich rubbed at his short salt-and-pepper beard. “Listen, I know this has to be distressing for you. I have a daughter about your age, and she’d have run screaming from this place the moment she saw Shaun’s body. You’re one tough cookie, Belinda. Why don’t you head back to the visitors’ center, have some coffee, and I’ll figure out some work you can do that’ll keep you away from the wolves the rest of the day.”
I could’ve thrown my arms around the thoughtful older man. Instead, I struggled to hold back sudden tears and mumbled a thanks. None too steadily, I walked down the path toward the visitors’ center.
As the barn came into view, it was obvious that the preserve had been thrown into an uproar. A sleek tour bus sat in the corner of the parking lot, and a small crowd milled around it. One woman with bleach-blonde hair was snapping bubbles with her gum and complaining loudly about the holdup with their tour, while a diminutive man ineffectively patted at her shoulder. Evie and the tour guide were having a heated conversation just outside the visitors’ center door. There was a Closed sign on the gift shop, probably so visitors couldn’t ramble around while Evie was dealing with the fallout of the canceled tour.
How many tours had Shaun booked for today? Regardless of the number, I was certain the police would have Evie cancel them. Dahlia would probably have to refund all the tour groups.
In other words, Shaun’s death was going to cost her.
In an attempt to avoid the restless crowd, I headed for the side door and went straight into the kitchen. Thick, burned brew sat in the coffeepot, so I dumped it, guessing at measurements to make a fresh pot.
A man with thick graying hair strode into the side door, dropping a glance at me as he walked toward the gift
store. Befuddled as to who the bold newcomer was, I stood.
“Excuse me, sir. I believe the shop is closed.”
The man whirled to stare at me through thick glasses lenses. “I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself first. I’m Dennis Arden, Dahlia’s father-in-law.” He extended a hand and I gave it a brief shake. “I stop by every now and again to see how things are going—I live about fifteen minutes away,” he said.
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t sure, what with the crowd out there—”
“I totally understand. I haven’t been able to get hold of Evie to let her know I was dropping in, then I saw the hubbub and figured something was up. Do you know what’s going on?”
I hated to be the bearer of ghastly news, but Dennis would likely hear what happened sooner rather than later. Still, I figured I should keep the details to a minimum. “A tour guide was found dead today,” I answered.
He held out a hand, as if warding off my words. “Found dead? But where? Who was it?”
It was inevitable he would ask, but I wasn’t sure how much information we were allowed to share. “It was here at the preserve, and it was Shaun Fowler,” I offered, my voice cracking.
Dennis looked appalled. “Yes, I’d met that young man. He seemed a rather enterprising sort.” His nostrils flared. “And from the look on your face, I’m betting he didn’t die of natural causes. It was those danged wolves, am I right?”
Dennis shifted on his feet. He wasn’t the only one thoroughly upset by Shaun’s death, but he was acting like he wanted to spit nails.
“I’m afraid that’s correct,” I said, trying to keep my voice soft.
“This whole preserve is a joke,” Dennis blurted. “Why my son decided to let his crazy ex use his land, I’ll never know. Maybe because she needed a place to live. But, of course, it was her harebrained idea to build this wolf zoo. Dumbest thing I ever heard of, trying to rehabilitate animals that have been so badly abused. It’s asking for trouble—I warned her someone was going to get killed someday.” He sighed. “Oh well, Quinn should’ve never married that free-spirited hippie in the first place.”
I didn’t know Dahlia well, but I felt Dennis wasn’t giving her a fair shake. After all, Shaun had mentioned that Dahlia was a hard worker, pouring many hours into rehabbing the wolves. She’d set up the preserve in hopes of doing good, and probably as a means of making income for her family.
It wasn’t right of Dennis to slam his ex-daughter-in-law behind her back. I put my hands on my hips in an attempt to stop his tirade. “I think it’s admirable. Besides, I’m sure this preserve helps provide for your grandson.”
Dennis huffed. “Carson? That boy won’t amount to a hill of beans. He’s too much like his mother.”
I couldn’t imagine my doting grandma ever speaking of me that way, like I was some unwanted nuisance. I mentally added Dennis’s name to my Most-Disliked-on-the-Preserve list. The list already included Carson and Veronica.
I was trying to come up with a sufficiently smug retort when Evie burst into the gift shop. As I glanced out the kitchen door, it was clear to see the usually peppy administrative assistant was teary-eyed.
“I need to talk with her,” Dennis said, stalking out of the kitchen. I hoped he didn’t plan to blast Evie with his angry diatribe.
It seemed the only thing I could do to help Evie was to keep busy with my own chores. I sucked down the last dregs of my barely passable coffee, making a mental note to bring my hazelnut creamer in the morning, if I decided to come back to work—contract or no contract.
5
Trying to ignore the rumble of Dennis’s raised voice, I pulled on my sweatshirt. After topping my bulky look with the bright green vest, I trudged out the kitchen door. I was thankful to find Rich spraying down feed buckets near a red storage building, so I didn’t have to go back into the woods to look for him.
He cut the sprayer as I approached. “Feeling a little better?”
My run-in with Dennis Arden hadn’t been quite the pick-me-up I’d needed, but I didn’t want to bring Rich down with my negative observations. “Yes. I made fresh coffee, if you want some.”
“I’m not a coffee drinker, but thanks. I’ll be heading in for lunch soon. You feel ready for another job?”
I gave an unconvincing nod.
“Don’t worry, I’m keeping you away from the wolf enclosures. If you don’t mind feeding the smaller farm animals, I can head back to the wolves and start brushing them out, since their winter coats are already starting to shed.”
“Did Sergeant Hardy say you’re allowed to go back in there by yourself?” I asked, anxious for the kind man’s safety.
“I’m just doing what I have to do to keep this place running,” Rich said, avoiding my question. “I’m not afraid of those wolves.”
He didn’t elaborate, so I didn’t press him. He did have pepper spray, and from all I’d seen, Rich was pretty instinctive about the animals in his care. He wasn’t likely to risk his life just to brush the wolves’ fur.
Once Rich had explained what I should feed the animals, I walked over to the expansive yard stretching behind Dahlia’s house, where the smaller pets were kept.
The chicken coop was a pretty good size. Dahlia was raising some unusual breeds, as well as some of the more standard ones, like Rhode Island Reds. I fed them first, then gathered a few eggs from their nests. Latching the gate closed behind me, I nestled the eggs into the grass to pick up later, although I was unsure what I was supposed to do with them.
I made my way to the fenced peacock area. The regal birds were a sight to behold, but they made earsplitting screeches the entire time I was in their fence. They seemed more interested in me than in the cracked oats I fed them.
From there, I headed over to the goat herd. The animals were fearless, nudging at me and vying for my attention with loud bleats as I refreshed their water supply. As always, I was entranced by goats’ unique sideways pupils. My mom had kept a few goats when I was younger, and I’d always enjoyed their creative and relentless efforts to escape. Mom hadn’t enjoyed their antics nearly so much, and had sold them off.
By the time I’d finished my chores, the sun was covered by clouds and a chilly wind had picked up. I carefully placed the eggs in my sweatshirt pocket before heading back to the visitors’ center. Glancing at the parking lot, I saw that the tour bus was gone and only a couple of cars remained. I texted Red, and he said he’d be over in fifteen minutes.
Inside, Evie was busy reorganizing an eye-catching display table that needed no adjustments. Her British accent seemed heavier as she greeted me. “Oh, my dear Belinda. It’s dreadful that your first day was like this. Sergeant Hardy told me to cancel all the tours for the week, and I have, but I’m completely at loose ends as to what to do with myself now. I’m no good at feeding the animals, or I would help you. I grew up in the city, you see. The wolves know I’m terrified of them.” Tears welled in her dark-lashed blue eyes. “My mum said this was a rubbish job for me to take on, but I didn’t listen. Dahlia convinced me I’d be a huge help to her. Now everything’s gone wonky, and I can’t reach Dahlia on her mobile and—”
I cut her off with a quick hug. “It’ll be fine. Rich and I can handle things with the wolves. You just concentrate on keeping the business end running.” A thought occurred to me. “Wasn’t Carson supposed to be helping you while his mom was away? Where is he?”
Evie shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since this morning, when he told me about Shaun’s death. I was so gobsmacked I barely paid attention to where he went. Most likely he’s been holed up in his house—it’s where he stays most of the time, pecking about on his computer as if he’s doing something important.”
I wondered what, if any, computer business Carson did, but it was evident that he wasn’t contributing much to the management of his mother’s preserve. His efforts thus far seemed to be comp
rised of taking long walks in the same direction as Veronica, as well as poking his nose into other people’s business.
The ironic thing was that his disdainful grandpa, Dennis Arden, seemed to share his trait of nosing around where he wasn’t really wanted.
When I asked Evie where to put the eggs, she went into the kitchen and absently handed me a plastic bowl. After placing them in the bowl and setting it in the fridge, I turned back to say good-bye. Evie’s chin was trembling, as if she might burst into tears. I gave her another hug and a pat on the back. She was definitely gobsmacked, as she’d put it, and she seemed very alone.
She probably needed to talk about Shaun’s death, but we weren’t really close enough for that yet. Besides, she’d acted so strangely yesterday, sneaking around with her phone like she was having an illegal conversation. I wasn’t sure if I could trust her yet.
I placed my green vest on a wall peg and gave Evie a brief wave. “See you tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll be here at seven-thirty.”
She sniffed, then nodded. “See you then.”
Once I stepped outside, I heard someone rustling around in the red storage building. Rich came out of the building’s metal doorway, holding a pitchfork.
He stopped and gave me a questioning look. “You coming back tomorrow?”
I only hesitated a moment, which really wasn’t bad, given my current feelings toward the wolves. “Yes, I am.”
Rich leaned on the pitchfork handle. “Good. You were a natural today. I know the wolves can be scary at first, but you handled it well.”
Scary was hardly an adequate term for the way Njord had looked, standing there with blood splattered on his coat. I shivered and shoved my hands into my sweatshirt pocket.
“Thanks. And thanks for letting me tend to the other animals this afternoon.”
He nodded and moseyed off to whatever task awaited him. I made my way to the only black car in the parking lot. Red jumped out and opened my door without saying a word. Once I was settled, he adjusted his mirror and looked at me.
Belinda Blake and the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing Page 4
