Legend of the White Wolf (6 page)

   But as soon as he shut his eyes, the phone rang. He ignored the first two rings as he stared at the red numbers on the digital clock. Then he growled and grabbed up the phone, ready to strangle the caller if it was a wrong number or overzealous telemarketer who didn't know what time it was in the Northwest. No phone number listed on the Caller ID.

   "Hello!"

   "Gavin?"

   Gavin bolted upright. The voice sounded a million miles away and the phone crackled with static, but he'd recognize Owen's voice anywhere. "Owen? Owen, you all right?"

   "We're quitting."

   "The hunt? Are you and David okay? Coming home soon?"

   "Quitting… partnership. Tell—"

The phone sputtered.

"Owen? You're breaking up badly."

"Tell Cameron don't come."

"He's there already. Where are you?"

"Dangerous."

   "Owen, Cameron's there. I can't get word to him. What's dangerous?"

   "… kill him. We're okay." Crackle. "… go."

   "Owen—"

   "No!" someone else yelled in the distance on the other end of the line. Then the phone crackled again and died.

   "Owen!" Gavin stared at the phone. "Shit." He jerked his covers aside and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to regain his equilibrium. At thirty, he was getting way too old for all-night surveillances without a partner to back him up. But helping his friends if they needed him—and they better damn well need him—that, he would never be too old for.

   He rubbed his tired eyes. If he had the time, he'd drive to Maine. It didn't matter that more people died in car accidents every year according to statisticians who kept such statistics. Just taking off in a plane nearly killed him.

   He tried Cameron's cell phone, but after several minutes, gave up. Either Cameron was on his way to the cabin resort and couldn't hear the phone above the noise of the snowmobile, or he was already beyond where he could get a signal.

   Gavin ran his hands through his hair. At least he could convey the information to Cameron about the gray pickup when he caught up to him. Although he was more interested in the woman Cameron had his sights on rescuing this time.

   Gavin shook his head. Cameron would never learn. He punched a few numbers on his phone and said, "When is your next flight to Bangor, Maine?"

The snowstorm intensified as Cameron and Faith drove their snowmobiles slowly along the unplowed road, the visibility less than a quarter mile, the wind blowing faster than they were driving. Pine and spruce trees lining the wide road were draped in white, like snow giants protecting the dwellers of the forest.

   Cameron and Faith had considered staying at the lodge in Millinocket for another night, but both of them were impatient to get on with their business. Cameron still wondered exactly what Faith's business here was. He didn't believe for a minute she was here to relive her father's snow-filled adventure. Not in the beginning, and then when Officer Adams mentioned the sociology busi ness, Cameron wondered what that was all about, since the police had taken an interest. Not only that, but Faith had been reluctant to mention it. Curiouser and curiouser.

   He was still wondering about his friends, too. Were they in some kind of trouble? From what Gavin had told him about the conversation with Owen, it didn't sound like it. And with the difficulty Owen was having with talking to Gavin because of the remoteness of the area, that might have been the whole problem. They'd gotten stuck some place where they couldn't make phone contact and were perfectly fine. If Owen and David were now quitting the hunt, maybe they'd get home before Cameron could even locate them. Which put a whole different slant on the situation. What if he now could make a vacation out of this instead of work? He hadn't taken one in over three years. Maybe he could share Faith's adventure, help her to relive the time her father had spent here?

   He snorted. He didn't believe that was what she was here for in the least. And he was determined to learn the truth sooner or later. But another thought occurred to him. Why was she worried about the gray pickup? Even though he'd called the license plates in to Gavin to have him investigate, Cameron knew he wouldn't hear back from him for a while, what with communications being so spotty where they were going. But Faith seemed to think something wasn't right about the vehicle, and he wasn't leaving anything to chance.

   And the police officers? That was another concern. Of course every department had its own procedures, and every individual officer had his own way of dealing with a crime scene, but he thought both acted strangely unconcerned. Almost as if they were trying to appear that way to cover up their true feelings. He'd observed Officer Adams's expression for the briefest of instances when he'd first seen the dead man, as if he had more of a tie to him than he wanted to admit. But then his look had swiftly changed to all business.

   More than that, they seemed to recognize Faith before she even told them her name. From what Cameron understood of the situation, she'd never been to this part of the country. So it seemed odd. Even if they'd heard of her father, it was as if they had a whole dossier on the family, current photos included. The comment about her being a wanted woman threw him, too. Even though he shouldn't have made anything of the guy talk, he couldn't help wondering if Adams was referring to Cameron wanting her, or someone else.

   Shifting his thoughts to where they needed to be, Cameron concentrated on the road, trying to stay in the center while he followed Faith, unwilling to go first and risk losing her behind him, when he saw a flash of something to his right. Jerking his head that way, he tried to see into the forest, but the snow was blowing so hard, he couldn't make anything out. Probably nothing of importance. But he still couldn't help wondering what it was or if he'd just imagined it.

   Watching Faith again, he hoped she was warm enough from the heat distributed from the manifold through foot rest grilles and heaters placed on the steering handles on the snowmobile. She was wearing those stretchy, clingy ski pants that, on her figure, were flattering and way too sexy. Even her ski jacket was short-waisted, showing off her curves a little too much.

   Not that he didn't enjoy looking, but he could have beaned the guy restocking shelves at the grocery store for eyeing her a little too hard. And the "kid" at the snow mobile rental place made a big deal out of the fact she wasn't wearing a wedding ring and when she returned to Millinocket, he could sure take her out to some fun places. That was until Cameron did his I'm-with-the lady routine to keep the vultures away. Whether she wanted him to or not.

   Actually, she'd seemed a bit amused. If any guy thought he'd make any moves on her at the camp, he'd let them know just how wrong they were.

   She slowed her snowmobile down a little, and he matched her actions. He suspected they were getting close to the resort when he thought something moved again to his right. But when he looked hard in that direc tion, all he saw was blowing snow, snow-laden trees, snow piled against them, nothing but white.

   He glanced back at the road and a one-story log lodge appeared up ahead with a majestic prowlike front and covered wraparound veranda. Cedar rocking chairs sat all along the wooden deck, the arrangement welcoming guests to sit and visit while taking in the panoramic mountain and forest view. But the large picture windows were dark, no light filtering through, and the massive stone fireplace was cold, not a trickle of smoke.

   Faith drove up to the porch and paused for a minute, not turning off her engine. He parked beside her and saw what it was that had stopped her: a note pasted on one of the windows from the inside.

   
Closed due to family emergency. Keys in cabins. Be
back later. Charles and Elizabeth Roux.

   Faith pulled her ski mask down under her chin so she could speak more clearly. "Guess we're on our own."

   "Good thing we brought supplies with us and didn't count on eating at the main lodge first thing. So, which cabin do we hole up in for now? White Wolf or Black Bear Den?"

   "How good are you at starting fires?"

   He smiled. "Eagle Scout. Although, I have to admit I always carried a lighter with me on campouts as a boy."

   She laughed and even though her sweet voice was half drowned out by the roaring wind, her laughter warmed him deep inside.

   "Come on, boy scout, before we freeze our buns off out here. We'll go to whichever is closest."

   "Black Bear Den. Yours."

   He hoped she'd be amenable to letting him remain the night. It wasn't that he was so needy, but he didn't like the idea that a woman would be staying alone in a cabin in the wilderness with no one about. Especially in the midst of a blizzard. Well, truth be told, he was feeling a bit needy, too.

   They wound their way along a narrow forested trail on their snowmobiles, the trees helping to shield them from the blowing wind, until they reached the first of the small log cabins facing the frozen lake. Through the clearing, bitter cold wind whipped off the ice.

   A carving of three whimsical black bears holding a sign that said,
Welcome, Black Bear Den
, attached to the door of the cabin, indicated they were at the right place.

   As he recalled from the map Charles had sent him when Cameron booked the reservation, his own cabin was quite a distance from Faith's. Each of the cabins had a screened view of the lake with plenty of trees in between to provide them enough privacy from their neighbors. Which was another reason he didn't like it that Faith would be alone.

   Snowdrifts were piled against the side of the cabin all the way to the windows, at least a foot of accumulation covered the deck, and the roof was bearing a heavy load. Although it was midday, the blizzard made everything look gray, cold, and foreboding.

   Which made it imperative he started a fire right away to heat up the place. As soon as she was inside, he hauled in his stuff behind her. No sense in leaving it out to freeze in this weather even if he wasn't staying the night. When he put his bags down on the knotty pinewood floor, she raised her brows and gave a funny little smile.

   "Not snowproof," he said, as if answering her unspoken question, then headed back outside before she could retort. When she followed him to get the rest of her stuff, he waved her inside. "Go set up housekeeping, Faith. I'll take care of the rest of your bags. Dressed the way you are, you're way too much of a distraction."

   He loved the way the skin underneath her eyes crinkled when she grinned, shook her head, and returned to the cabin. His attention then focused on the skin-tight ski pants hugging her derrière. The thought came to mind how much fun it would be to ski with her in the great Northwest, share a hot toddy at the ski lodge, and snuggle together with her in a spa, the snow piled up around it. And then work out all the kinks from a day on the slopes in a soft bed made for two. He shook his head at himself, grabbed the rest of her bags, and returned to the cabin, shutting the door against the howling wind.

   Faith had pulled off her ski hat, mask, goggles, and gloves but was still wearing her jacket as she looked inside the cabinets. The log cabin was ice-cold, with unadorned large picture windows facing out on the frozen lake. The walls were made of logs, but insulated. Cameron didn't feel a bit of wind coming through the walls, which he was grateful for. At least once he had a fire going, the place should warm up pretty quickly.

   "Have a fire started in a jiffy. As soon as I can find my lighter."

   Faith had already started a tea kettle on the gas stove. "Fire here," she said, pointing to the flame under the kettle. "Did you bring coffee? I've got green tea."

   "Coffee." He knew he'd forgotten something. Although he figured he could have gotten some to drink at the main lodge, the thought crossing his mind that cuddling with Faith early in the morning would negate any need to get up to have any for sometime anyway.

   "You didn't bring any?"

   "No. Forgot all about it."

   "How about hot cocoa then?"

   "Either is fine." He finally got the fire started in the wood-burning stove, turned on the fan to blow heat into the room, and looked around. One double-sized bed and two twin beds in two bedrooms off the living room. Although a queen-sized suited his height better, a double was better for snuggling with a sweet feminine body on cold winter days. No bedding or linens on the bare mattresses, which is why they had to bring their own sleeping bags, and he considered how well his would fit on her mattress.

   She caught him eyeing the bed. His ears burned with chagrin, and he smiled. Hell, he was caught in the act, and he was pretty sure she could read his transparent thoughts. Women often could.

   "So, I offered to fix lunch. Or have lunch with you. But since it appears this is where we'll be eating, what appeals?" She took off her jacket and laid it on a chair, then started pulling out cans of spinach, green beans, corn, asparagus, salmon, and the package of tuna.

    "How about you pick out the vegetable and we can fix my salmon steaks?"

   He looked around the kitchen. Sink, no running water. "Ice box, but no refrigeration. They'll have to supply us with ice, but looks like no one's around to do that today."

   "We could gather up some snow and put it in the ice box. But the salmon sounds good to me."

   "No breakfast for me, so it sounds fine."