A Silver Wolf Christmas Page 10

  Darien bowed his head a little bit in agreement. “I will permit it and let the rest of the pack know that you are allowed to run in our territory.”

  “Thank you.”

  Stanton and his brothers rose from their seats. “See you tomorrow at the grand opening.” Jake quickly escorted them outside to their van.

  Darien directed his comment to CJ. “Ask Laurel to join us, will you?”

  CJ hurried out of the room but practically ran into Lelandi and Laurel as they headed for the conference room.

  Lelandi said, “Now that the Wernicke brothers have had their say, Laurel wants to talk to you all about the disappearance of her aunt.”

  * * *

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your aunt? Or tell any of us? Darien? Lelandi? Before tonight?” CJ asked, driving Laurel home in what had become a blinding snowstorm, the windshield wipers barely clearing the glass before it was covered again. Everything was coated in white—the road, the trees, and every space in between.

  “I’m sorry, CJ. I know you’re angry with me now. But how could we tell anyone why we were here?”

  “I’m annoyed that we had to learn the truth from the Wernicke brothers. Why couldn’t you have told us?”

  “Anyone in the pack could have made her disappear! Who could we have trusted?”

  “Even me?” He let out his breath. “Okay, I get it. You don’t know us that well, so it’s easy to see how you would be wary of any of us. Sure, pack loyalty means a lot to us. But if anyone had murdered your aunt, that person would pay the price, no matter how many years have passed.”

  He paused, hating to tell her anything about his father’s misdeeds. What if she thought that he or his brothers might turn out to be like their father? But given the circumstances, he thought it was important to tell her before she learned about it from someone else. “You might have heard that my father, Sheridan, was sheriff of Silver Town until a couple of years ago.”

  “My mother said he looked into her allegations that her sister died, but there was nothing to it. And that he died a while back, so we couldn’t even question him.”

  CJ was glad that Darien hadn’t told the sisters what Sheridan had done. He wanted to be the one to tell her.

  “Lelandi said that he wanted to tear down the old hotel.”

  CJ frowned. He’d never heard his father say that. “Are you sure? I guess if Lelandi knew, then it was for certain. I never heard him say that. Not that we were real close. My dad always felt as though he should have been the pack leader. The pack decided otherwise.”

  “Darien seems like a fair leader.”

  “He is. But my dad was disgruntled about it. I’ve got something to tell you about my father. It doesn’t reflect on me or my brothers, but I just want you to know in case you hear about it from others. I’m glad that no one has mentioned it so that I could share this with you, since he was my father.”

  CJ explained that his father had murdered Darien’s first mate because she betrayed the pack by having an adulterous affair. There had been more to it than that. CJ felt for now that was enough to explain without overwhelming her with the details of all the people who had been involved in the murder. “Darien was forced to fight my father to the death. My brothers and I left the pack after that and only recently returned. My father was wrong in doing what he did. But it’s no reflection on my brothers and me.”

  He waited to hear what Laurel had to say, hoping that she wouldn’t see him as anything like his father had been.

  They were still only about halfway to her house when she shouted, “Stop the truck.”

  He was afraid she meant to bolt from him. He opened his mouth to object, because he wasn’t letting her out here to make her way home on her own in the wilderness in the middle of the snowstorm.

  “I saw the ghost wolf! Stop the truck!”

  He couldn’t believe it. He’d been concentrating on the blowing snow and trying to make out the edges of the road in the low visibility. Certain she really hadn’t seen anything, he pulled off onto the shoulder, hoping that no one would hit his truck. She immediately threw open the truck door, slammed it shut, and took off running into the woods.

  Hell! CJ put on his truck’s emergency flashers, jumped out of the vehicle, slammed the door, and raced after her. “Wait up!”

  “Shh,” she said, casting him an annoyed look.

  What? Did she believe the ghost wolf could hear him and would shy away from them? Seriously? He was jogging next to Laurel as she ran through the powder when she did the unexpected—fell face-first in a pile of snow.

  “Are you okay?” He hurried to help her up, worried she’d broken a bone or twisted an ankle.

  She was breathing hard, turning away from him and looking for any sign of the wolf. “Yes,” she whispered. “My boot caught on a tree root buried in the snow. But I’m all right.”

  “What exactly did you see?”

  She was peering at the snow, looking for tracks. They could tell something had moved through the snow, but it was too deep and powdery for anything to run along the top of it and leave paw prints. It could have been a member of the pack taking a wild run in the snow.

  “Did you see what the wolf looked like?”

  “It was white.”

  He frowned. “Not an Arctic wolf.”

  “Or a black wolf whose color has changed. Most wolves become gray or grayish with advancing age. But sometimes black wolves will turn practically white in just a short while.”

  He’d never seen a white wolf in the area. “Or ghost wolf?”

  “In the mix of snow, that’s what it looked like.”

  “Okay, did it have shorter ears and legs than a gray wolf? Do you think it was a male or a female?”

  “How would I know that? I only saw a glimpse of it before it took off running. And the wolf’s legs were buried in the snow like ours are. You took too long to stop the truck, and I couldn’t reach the wolf fast enough. Not as a human, anyway.” She looked up at him, hopeful.

  He raised his brows. “You want to try to track it in the blizzard?”

  “Is this where the ghost wolf is always seen?”

  “Supposedly this area, yes.”

  “Then why not?”

  “As wolves or humans?”

  She smiled a little at him. Then began to strip.

  He had to ask. But this time he watched her as she stripped in front of him. He was only human after all and a lot wolf. Her breasts were mouthwatering as her rosy nipples puckered in the cold. Much like his were as he hurried to strip. Long, shapely legs, and lots of curves. And the curly red hair between her legs was the same color as the curls blowing around her shoulders as she called on the shift and in the next instant turned into her wolf.

  He followed suit, before she raced off without him.

  As they ran as wolves, he followed her lead, watching their surroundings, looking for anything else unusual, besides a ghostly white wolf. True to the nature of a ghost wolf—if it existed and the wind blowing the snow hadn’t played tricks with Laurel’s vision—he smelled no sign of a wolf.

  They had been searching for the ghost wolf for about an hour when they came to a dirt road that led to the river where some of their people parked and hauled their canoes, rafts, or other small boats into the water during the summer. What he saw gave him pause. Fresh tire tracks in the snow, although the blowing snowflakes would soon obliterate them.

  Their white ghost wolf was driving a truck? They checked the area further but didn’t find anything, ghost or otherwise. Still, someone else might have parked here and run. Then again, the ghost wolf could have just vanished, as ghostly creatures were known to do.

  He let out his breath in a frosty mist and glanced at Laurel, who was still sniffing around at the tire tracks. She finally lifted her head and looked at him.

  Then she nodded, as if she knew what he was thinking. Time to give up the search.

  It took a while to locate their clothes because the fres
h snow had already buried them. He shifted and shook out her clothes first, then located his own and was digging them out when she began to dress.

  “Brrr, cold.”

  He smiled. “Bet this is nothing like living in Florida in the winter.”

  “It gets chilly there, and we have to wear coats. But no, nothing like this.”

  “So what do you think about the ghost wolf?”

  “I think he’s driving a pickup truck.”

  Chapter 9

  Trudging back to CJ’s truck through the deep snowdrifts, Laurel stumbled again. CJ reached out and grabbed her hand to help her through them. He thought she must be worn out after the long day and the ghost-wolf run.

  He was trying to show his thoughtfulness and gallantry and, more, to ensure she knew he was truly interested in a courtship. What if the only reason the sisters were here was to learn about their aunt, and once they solved that mystery, they’d sell the place and leave?

  He had every intention of proving to Laurel that she would love it here with him and the pack. When they reached his truck, they climbed in and he drove off, thinking again about the ghost wolf, pondering how Laurel had come to the conclusion that it was white. Probably the snow had made the gray wolf appear that way.

  “I’m glad it wasn’t a real ghost wolf.” Laurel pulled off her gloves and warmed her hands in front of the truck’s heater vents. “I’d much prefer that supernatural sightings be explained away.”

  Like the letter C on the wall, CJ thought. “Agreed.” He didn’t want to bring up the issue of his father again, if she didn’t want to talk about it further. He was fine with that.

  She suddenly said, “Why would your father have wanted the hotel torn down? Maybe because the hotel harbored evidence that linked him to another, well, crime?”

  CJ couldn’t believe it! How could she come to that conclusion? “No.” He hadn’t meant to answer so harshly, but he couldn’t believe she’d pull accusations out of thin air without shoring them up with real evidence.

  “Lelandi said that your father told Darien he thought the hotel should be torn down because it was an eyesore,” she reminded CJ.

  CJ had to agree that, given the circumstances, it could sound that way. But still, it was a stretch.

  Not knowing what to say, CJ drove the rest of the way to her house in silence, then parked when they arrived. He cut the engine and turned to her. “What exactly are you thinking?” He was afraid that the news he’d shared about his father was finally sinking in.

  She glanced out the window.

  “I’m sorry, but I wanted to tell you about my father because everything else was being discussed. I don’t believe he had anything to do with any other murder. That happened to be a special circumstance. It all had to do with the leadership of the pack. Which wouldn’t apply to your aunt’s disappearance.”

  Her gaze returned to his, her jaw steeled. “What if something else was going on? And it had been just as important to him as running the pack? Couldn’t this change everything? What if your father was involved in this too? Sometimes a catalyst causes a person to be implicated in a violent crime and it’s a onetime occurrence. But what if the first murder that person committed wasn’t actually his first? And he’d gotten away with it. He could do it again. What if he did such a great job of concealing the crime that no one ever learned the truth? Maybe he continued to kill and still didn’t get caught, but then the new situation presented itself, and he did it again. Only this time he was exposed.”

  “You’re talking about my father.” CJ couldn’t help but be irritated. He’d been devastated to learn about his father’s involvement in the murder. He didn’t want to believe his father had murdered anyone before that. But it bothered him to learn that his father had wanted the hotel torn down.

  Laurel stared out the windshield. “My mother talked to some of the people who lived near the hotel, and they said my aunt had never worked or lived there. And your father, as sheriff, corroborated that.”

  “How do you know that she worked there for certain then?”

  Laurel explained to him about the postcard. “In the basement in one of the maids’ rooms, a small letter C was carved into the baseboard, as if the maid claimed the room as her own. Maybe she’d been a maid.”

  “So management lied about her working there.” He pondered that for a moment, then thought about what else she’d said. “So she was seeing someone? That’s what Stanton said. It sounded like a love triangle.” His father and Warren Wernicke maybe? CJ ground his teeth.

  “Yes, but Aunt Clarinda didn’t give a name. My mother wondered if the man was a mated wolf, or if he was human and she didn’t want my mother to know.”

  “If he was human, would your aunt have turned him if he had returned the affection?”

  “My mother thought she would. Aunt Clarinda was often reckless. She hadn’t liked their father’s rule and had run off on her own when she was just a teen.”

  “All I can say is that we’ll do everything we can to learn the truth. I wanted to tell you about my father’s previous crimes, but maybe in doing so, I’ve caused you to worry about more when there’s no reason to, and for that, I’m truly sorry.”

  “No, thank you for telling me. Thanks for taking me skiing and for the run tonight. And”—she smiled a little—“for humoring me and helping me to track down the ghost wolf. I had fun, but I’m exhausted. The business with the Wernicke brothers is troubling too. It’s just a lot to absorb.”

  He started to get out of the truck to walk her to the house, but she shook her head. “I’ll see myself inside. Thank you.”

  She was out of the truck in a flash, stalking through the snow on the stone path that led to her front door. She waved good night, and he waited until she had gone inside and turned on a light.

  He’d wanted this night to end differently. A kiss, maybe sharing a drink—and something more to eat because he was hungry again.

  If his father had something to do with Laurel’s aunt’s disappearance, CJ didn’t think he would ever fully come to grips with what Sheridan Silver had done.

  * * *

  Later CJ stood in his kitchen, trying to decide what to make to eat, not really caring about the kind of food when all he wanted was to make the situation right with Laurel. He yanked out the leftover spaghetti and stuck it in the microwave. His cell phone rang and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Brett. CJ thought he knew what his brother’s call was all about. “Hey, Brett…”

  “Yeah, Brother. Are you free to share a meal with me? Or are you busy?”

  CJ would have loved to have been busy in the way his brother meant. “I’m free.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  CJ suspected Brett had gotten word about the situation with the Wernicke brothers and the MacTires’ missing aunt. Knowing Brett, CJ thought his brother wanted to make sure things were all right.

  Feeling a bit cheered that he’d have Brett to talk to, CJ thought again of Laurel and how she was all alone. He wished her sisters were home already. Better yet, he wished that he and she hadn’t ended the night on such a sour note. He took a deep breath, wishing he could say something that would make her feel better. But until they learned who had done what and resolved the issue with the Wernicke brothers, he didn’t feel he could say anything to her that would help.

  He pulled the container of leftover spaghetti out of the microwave and put it back in the fridge.

  Within twenty minutes, Brett was at CJ’s house. CJ swore his brother was over here more than he was at his own house. Though he loved Brett’s company and was glad for it, especially tonight.

  “How’s it going with Laurel?” Brett asked as he brought in groceries—steaks, pumpkin pie, whipped cream, and a premade salad.

  At least his brother always brought food. And it was good food. Though when CJ saw the pumpkin pie, he thought of how he had missed sharing some of that seven-layer chocolate cake with Laurel.

  “I thought I’d come ove
r tonight because you’ll be busy tomorrow night and for however long it will be before the Wernicke brothers give up their ploy to avenge their supposed aunt and uncle’s deaths and take over the property.”

  “Even if the hotel had been willed to them, they lost the right to it when the family abandoned it and the pack had to pay the taxes on it,” CJ said.

  “Unless they decide to lawyer up and fight, or use their TV program. They might still try to claim the hotel is haunted or do anything else they can to ruin it for the women. Post bad reviews, and so on. Hell, they might even air a segment on the theft of their hotel with speculation about the tryst that ended in their aunt and uncle’s murders. I don’t trust them.”

  CJ didn’t want to worry about what-ifs, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Stanton Wernicke’s claims. CJ knew the sisters would be devastated if they had to give up the hotel due to bad publicity. Even if they planned to leave, he knew they hadn’t intended to uproot this soon. And for now, the hotel was their special endeavor, not the Wernickes’.

  The rest of the pack members were delighted to have the sisters living here. He doubted anyone would feel the same way about the brothers. Taking the property from the MacTires would be an underhanded thing to do under any circumstances, after the women had worked so hard to renovate it.

  He had to consider how he’d feel if he and his brothers had just learned the property was theirs and… Hell, he was certain his brothers would feel as he did. The hotel belonged to the sisters.

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to deal with it if it comes to pass.”

  “What would you do if you learned the hotel was ours?”

  Brett started cooking the steaks and grinned at him. “Hell, that’s easy.”

  CJ wondered what Brett had in mind, but he knew from his brother’s expression that he was not taking this seriously.

  “Move in with them. I definitely wouldn’t take over or kick them out of the place.”

  CJ shook his head. “If you moved in, they’d be moving out in a heartbeat.”

  Brett laughed. “Besides, before they can do anything about anything, you’ll most likely be setting up housekeeping with Laurel. After that, her sisters are sure to fall for a couple of the rest of us lucky wolves. Even if they don’t have a hotel, they won’t be going anywhere.”