Wolf at the Door (3 page)

“No. In all honesty, I’m furious at myself
for letting it continue. Because it leaves me wide open to being
clueless about who this bastard is going to target next.”

Timber opened her mouth to say something,
anything, but she’d be damned if she could find the words. He’d
known. He was the alpha of the local Shifter Town Enforcement and
he’d known?

“I don’t let anyone I haven’t registered with
you guys go into town.”

“I realize the ones I’ve seen are registered.
Under fake names. More than a few have pulled up as iffy during the
identification process.”

Oh, God. Her heart felt like it was being
pulled right out of her chest. Connell was supposed to be the best
in the business around here. Those IDs were supposed to hold up
against everything. She rubbed her suddenly clammy palms against
her thighs.

“Look, Timber. I get it. When it comes to
helping those who actually need help, most Shifter Town Enforcement
departments leave a lot to be desired. I’ve seen them in action,
the ones who turn a blind eye to what’s going on in their territory
as long as it wasn’t a human or a Hound getting hurt.”

“And what? You’ve never participated, or
stood back and done nothing while it happened?” She called bullshit
right here and let the sarcasm in her voice show it.

Brandt actually had the nerve to smile at her
then. “I’ve grown up a lot since the pup who passed through the
Academy. Maybe someday we can talk about that. Right now? I need to
know everyone you have under your protection. Real names,
Timber.”

She shook her head. That wasn’t an
option.

“Fine. Let’s get more honest here, then.
Rebecca isn’t the first wolf-shifter we’ve found dead. Last week
another woman was found in Delaney. Same injuries, same kill blow,
same looks. Both wolf-shifters. And I’m pretty sure she wasn’t the
first.”

She took a step back, fear clawing its way
through her chest, and she could feel the wolf inside her suddenly
wanting out. She wanted to run, to escape, so whatever trap was
closing around her couldn’t catch her.

Brandt plowed on, stepping even closer.
“Every wolf in your pack needs to understand the danger. Especially
anyone who looks like Ms. Morgan. But I need to know who you have
in hiding here. I have to know who he might be after.”

There was more to it than he was saying.
There was almost a note of desperation in his voice, but hell, she
couldn’t blame him. He was saying he believed a serial killer was
stalking the area.

She’d thought she left that kind of hell
behind when she escaped Charles.

“I—” Timber closed her eyes. “I’ll get you a
list.”

“Thank you.”

No. When she opened her eyes again, she
leveled a glare at him, letting the fear and anger seethe until it
left her voice gruff, aching with emotion. “Don’t you dare get any
of these girls hurt. This list goes to you, no one else.”

“Fair enough.”

She wanted to laugh. It was more than fair.
He had no idea the amount of faith she was placing in him. She just
hoped she was right to trust him.

Chapter Four

“Hey, boss,”
Tate called out the moment Brandt stepped through the office door.
Brandt clutched the lined paper in his hands, still amazed that
he’d gotten the list. He’d expected more of a fight. To have to
push and threaten until she caved. But through some miracle, Timber
Kearney’s good sense had kicked in.

She wasn’t at all like he’d thought.

Tate grinned. “How’d it go with our resident
pack of illegals?”

It was a common joke around the station. They
all knew Timber was hiding rogues, but outside of the few Hounds he
hadn’t allowed to remain in his pack for long, everyone was willing
to ignore it. Those who were savvy enough to change with the times
even gave the woman credit for her guts.

Tate was one of those who understood. In the
pack where he’d been placed right out of the Academy, he’d seen
first-hand how badly shifters were treated, how their own law
enforcement didn’t give a damn what happened to them.

Brandt rubbed his forehead. “Well enough.” He
flashed Tate the folded sheet of lined paper. “I have a list of the
women she’s keeping safe and strict orders that it’s for my eyes
only. Agreeing sure as hell beat arguing.”

Tate gave a surprised snort. “Well, shoot, I
thought for sure you’d have to drag her down here in cuffs before
she’d give up her pack.”

So had he. But there had been real fear in
her eyes when he mentioned Rebecca Morgan hadn’t been the first. He
tapped the piece of paper he’d set on the desk. They’d done a
routine background check on Kearney when she first moved into his
turf, but now he was curious again. “Run a check on Kearney for me
again. Dig deeper.”

“You think she’s dirty?”

“No. But she has a bone to pick with STE and
a hell of a protective streak when it comes to those women.” And a
streak of vulnerability ten miles wide. He leaned back in his chair
and looked up at Tate, still tapping the list. “I think it might
help to know what’s driving her. We’ve let her operate under the
radar for a while, but this case proves we really can’t let it
continue.”

“But to get her to cooperate we need her
trust. Gotcha there. I’ll run it myself, see what I can find.
Anything else?”

“How’d Bannock take the news?”

The two nearest wolf-shifter alphas couldn’t
have been more different. Where Timber took in misfits and used
subterfuge to keep them safe, hiding in the shadows, Nathan Bannock
was a powerhouse. Delphi was the largest wolf pack in Colorado, and
its alpha was a force to be reckoned with. But Bannock also made
sure every wolf in his pack was registered with STE so he couldn’t
be accused of doing anything shady.

And he also made sure that every other wolf
pack out there knew to stay the hell away from what was his.

“Pissed as all get-out. There were a few
moments there where I was pretty sure you’d set me up to get a fist
in the face.”

“Bannock’s got control.”

Tate huffed. “He’s also got one hell of a
temper. Still, they’re on guard, he’s pulling in his pack. He took
the picture of Rebecca Morgan. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone
in his pack with brown hair ends up blonde by the end of the
night.”

It was smart, but it might not be enough.

“He was already ordering a buddy system as I
was walking out the door. What the hell is this guy? Former
military?”

Brandt nodded. “Marine. He works security
now. Delphi is probably the safest, especially now that we’ve
tipped off Bannock.”

He rubbed the paper under his fingers. Unlike
Bear Creek. They would be prime pickings for a madman, and that
worried him. Tension gnawed his gut, chasing out the exhaustion.
“Get me that background check.”

“Yes, sir.” Tate gave a brief nod of
acknowledgement and left his office.

Brandt glanced back down at the paper,
carefully unfolding it so he could read the names. She had fifteen
wolves in her pack. He swallowed. They’d known of six. She’d
smuggled in more without bothering to register them—crappy fake
identities or not.

But at least he had a list. He couldn’t rule
out the possibility that Wolfman had come here to hunt someone
specific. It might not be likely, but there was a chance. And he
had to work this case from every angle.

With a sigh, Brandt swiveled to face his
computer and got to work.

***

Timber hadn’t actually expected to sleep that
night, but she’d been hoping. Instead, she stared up at the
ceiling, covered with cold sweat, as she fought to gain control of
her breathing again. Her heart still raced with panic. Normally
after a bad night she might have a few quiet ones, when her body
was too exhausted to dream.

Not tonight.

Not after the Hound had shown up to warn her
about the possibility of a serial killer. Not after seeing Becky’s
dead face in that picture. Timber squeezed her eyes shut. Poor
Beck. The woman had run from an abusive ex, one who’d threatened
her so many times she finally fled in fear of her life. And as much
as she felt guilty for it, Timber hoped it had been Becky’s ex
who’d found her. Hoped that she’d died quickly. Because Becky’s ex
didn’t have a reason to go after anyone else.

With a groan, Timber rolled out of bed. She
couldn’t just lie there mourning and feeling sorry for herself. She
could only do what she could do. The rest was up to the universe
and its crappy version of fate. She threaded her fingers through
her scraggly hair, pulling at the knots until her hands slid
through easily.

Sleep wasn’t an option. What she wanted, she
realized with a start, was to run. To let the wolf out, shift under
the sliver of moon in the sky, and just run it out. A laugh stole
up her throat then, surprisingly bitter. She might have done it
last night, but only a fool would go out alone tonight. Until this
killer was caught there’d be no more late, solitary runs.

She sighed and trudged down to the front room
and her book. If she couldn’t run, maybe she could lose herself in
another world. The book was still where she’d left it, propped open
on the armrest of her recliner. Timber paused, staring at the spot
where Brandt had been sitting. He wasn’t typical of the Hounds
she’d come to know over the years.

If she hadn’t known better, she’d have
thought he truly cared.

“Except you do know better,” she murmured.
Hounds never cared when it came to shifters.

She tried to wrestle her attention back to
the book, but she couldn’t bring herself to go over and curl up in
that chair. The room felt stuffy, too small, cramped. The wolf
inside her paced, uneasy. The hunter never liked being the
hunted.

She’d had enough of that when she’d been
imprisoned in Charles’s version of Hell.

Fine
. Timber stalked to the front
door, braced her hands against the wood, and leaned up to look out
the peephole. It wouldn’t hurt just to open the door for a second
and breathe in some fresh air, right? If it had been any of her
wolves making that argument she’d have lectured them until she was
hoarse.

And yet she quietly slid open the locks and
cracked open the door anyway.

The cold night air flowed over her skin like
a soothing balm. The wind brushed over her cheeks, and she wanted
nothing more than to close her eyes and soak it all in.

The smell of blood hit her first, and her
stomach twisted, wild with fear. Her hand tightened on the doorknob
and she was about to slam the door shut when she saw the hair
scrunchie lying on her front steps.

Red smears across the rich hunter green.

There were still strands of long brown hair
tangled around the small bit of cloth. Her throat locked around a
whimper. Becky’s. But it was the deep, masculine scent, the
combination of wood smoke and an aftershave she would never forget,
that had her knees buckling. Only her grip on the door kept her
from hitting the linoleum.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God
. Timber jerked
backwards and slammed the door, her hands shaking so hard she
fumbled with the locks. It was a dream. It was a nightmare and, oh,
God
, she had to be wrong. The chain lock slid into place,
followed by the deadbolt, the lock on the handle, but none of it
could possibly be enough.

She sank down against the door, the world
spinning around her, as if the entire universe had been rocked
right off its axis. It wasn’t real, her brain tried to tell her. It
was too much of a shock. Charles was gone. He couldn’t find her
here. Whoever had left Becky’s hair tie on her porch had to have
been someone completely different.

She tried to believe it. She truly did.

Timber concentrated on getting her control
back.
In and out. In and out
. The words were a silent chant
as she forced the air through her lungs. It was only when she could
breathe without feeling the drive to hyperventilate that she
dragged herself to her feet. Her knees wobbled, fear leaving her
weak, and she staggered toward her living room.

Her cell sat on the table next to her book
and her hand closed over it. Sinking into the chair she forced
herself to pick up the small card the Hound had left behind. A
hysterical laugh built, threatening to bubble out and break
loose.

The last time she’d gone to the Hounds for
help they’d laughed her off, and she’d ended up in Hell.

She wasn’t sure she could survive if Shifter
Town Enforcement did it to her again.

It’s not him
. She reminded herself.
It can’t be him. You’re only calling to alert them to a tiny a
bit of evidence for their case, once they’re here and pick it up,
you’ll see. It’s just your demented mind playing tricks on
you.

But no matter what she told herself, she knew
the truth.

With trembling fingers she dialed. It took
her four tries to get the number right, but the moment it started
ringing, she longed to hang up, go back up and pull the covers over
her head, and pretend none of this had happened. Maybe she’d wake
up in a second and discover it was just another nightmare after
all.

“Shifter Town Enforcement, what’s your
emergency?” a woman’s voice came over the line and Timber felt the
air squeeze right out of her lungs. “Hello?”

“I need to speak with Brandt Lawrence.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. What—”

She found her voice then and it was like
steel. Unbending, unwavering, and despite the way every inch of her
body was shaking, her voice didn’t as much as quiver. “Look. I’m
Timber Kearney, the Bear Creek alpha. Brandt came to my house to
warn me about a serial killer who might possibly be after my pack.
I have information I think he’d like to have right away, and I’m
only willing to share it with him. Now, I need to speak with
him.”