Legend of the White Wolf

Chapter 7

CAMERON ACTED AS THOUGH HE WANTED TO KEEP FAITH IN bed forever, which was a heady kind of feeling she had to squash before she got used to the idea of having him around. Already the thought of returning alone to her home in Portland seemed cold and unappealing, when normally, being alone suited her fine, once Hilson took off. But God, she'd never had a man who could send her to the moon and back like Cameron had done. And despite her usual need to get up and get to work early in the morning, before the dogs had gotten Cameron's attention she probably would have snuggled with him longer. And more, if he'd wanted more. Which she didn't doubt for a second he would have wanted.

She sighed. Even though nothing would come of a fling with Cameron, maybe there was hope she could start over again with someone new, eventually.

But as soon as Cameron heard the dogs barking, his whole demeanor changed. At once, he acted much more interested in where the barking was coming from— probably his P.I. instincts. Was it Charles Roux and his sled dog team? She imagined it had to be.

The sound of snowmobiles drawing closer filled the air next. Before Faith could get free of Cameron and the bed, the snowmobiles parked outside her cabin, and a few seconds later someone pounded on her door, giving her a start.

"Maybe it's Charles bringing our ice for the ice box and another five-gallon container of water," she teased, not believing it, as early in the morning as it was, but if the dogs they'd heard barking belonged to Charles Roux and he'd returned home, he might be dropping by to complain if he'd discovered Cameron had fired up the hot tub without his permission.

"It's about time we got some service around here," Cameron said with a wink, although he didn't sound like he believed it either as he climbed out of bed and jerked on his jeans.

Faith hurried to get dressed. She quickly ran a brush through her hair as Cameron finished buttoning his shirt and looked over at her. "Ready?"

She nodded.

As soon as Cameron opened the door, she saw two policemen standing beyond their snowed-in entryway—Adams and Whitson. The same ones who had spoken to them in Millinocket when they'd been at Kintail's office and found the dead body. She closed her gaping mouth. With them coming all the way out here this early in the morning, it couldn't be a social call.

Officer Adams flipped through a notebook. "Faith O'Malley? Cameron MacPherson?"

"Did you learn anything more about the dead man?" Faith asked, hoping this was good news and nothing more that was bad.

"May we come in?" Adams asked, his tone more of a directed suggestion rather than a question.

This smacked of an investigation—as if Cameron and she were under the gun.

Cameron motioned for them to enter, although getting through the piled up snow for them was a trial.

Then a man appeared in a parka, his fur-trimmed hood framing his darker skin, his dark eyes focused on Cameron as he trudged into the snow piled up on their porch. "Charles Roux, owner here. I'll bring a shovel and clear the snow away. Return later to talk with you folks," he directed to Faith and Cameron.

Talk to them later about what? The hot tub?

She suspected they were in more trouble than that, if the police had anything to do with it. The officers came inside and shut the door.

"Green tea?" Faith asked the men. She was shivering between the cold in the cabin from the fire going out and letting in the frigid air from outside. At least the wind seemed to have stopped and the snow was no longer falling.

Cameron quickly shook his head. "I'll have some coffee at the main lodge later." Then he rubbed her arm and kissed her cheek. "You're shivering. I'll start a fire."

"Thanks, Cameron." She glanced at the police officers. Adams and Whitson took deep breaths, then looked from Faith to Cameron. "Tea?" They both declined. Faith started the kettle while the men waited. "So what did you find?"

"Where were the two of you between yesterday afternoon and early this morning?"

Faith put the box of tea bags down and paid more attention to the officers. She and Cameron were suspects in something else now?

Shoving a couple of logs into the wood-burning stove, Cameron took the lead, not sounding in the least bit troubled. "We were snowed in here. I left Faith for a few minutes when I thought I heard someone yell out near the lake. But I didn't see anything or anyone. And then I headed back to the cabin when I heard a couple of snowmobiles, concerned that someone was taking ours."

"Yes, two men stole our snowmobiles. Here's the description I have of them." She headed to the dining table and offered the note to the closest officer. "We were at the hot tub for a while also. We had witnesses. A lady named Mary, and three guys. One was named Matt and another, Chris. We didn't get the last guy's name."

"Were they guests of yours?"

Faith looked at the officer as if he'd gone mad. "Of course not. Cameron and I arrived first. Then Mary. Then the three guys. We hadn't met any of them before."

"Uh-huh." The officer raised his brows at Cameron, who was lighting a fire in the stove.

Cameron shook his head. "Didn't know any of them."

"Can you describe them?"

Faith poured hot water over her tea bag. "The lady was maybe sixties, gray hair, gray eyes, large build. The guys—Chris had bushy red hair, green eyes, scrawny. Matt, had nearly black hair and eyes, more muscular, and the last, light brown hair, blue eyes, medium build, late twenties. He didn't offer a name. They were lightly dressed and wore boxers into the hot tub. Mary had on a bright pink swimsuit."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, all you have to do is check their stories at the other cabins."

"According to Charles Roux, the only others staying at the cabins are a Leidolf Wildhaven of Portland, Oregon, and a Hilson Snowdon of the same location."

Faith clamped her gaping mouth shut, set her tea mug down, and sat before she collapsed.

"Mean anything to you?" Officer Adams asked, knowing damn well it did from her reaction.

Cameron was watching her just as closely. God. What the hell was Hilson doing here? He was supposed to have been at the other cabin resort a couple of miles away that was booked solid or she would have stayed there instead. And Leidolf? Was he with him? What were the odds that two men would be here from the same city in Oregon that she was from?

"Then where did the other people go? The ones that came into the hot tub?" she asked, hoping the officer would believe that was the reason for her shocked reaction.

"What's this all about?" Cameron asked, rejoining Faith, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.

Not answering Cameron, Officer Whitson pointed at Cameron's parka hanging over one of the dining room chairs, the sleeve torn and stained with blood. "Your coat didn't look like that earlier yesterday when we first met. Care to explain?"

Faith really didn't feel good about this. Something else had to have happened if they were being considered as suspects in some kind of criminal activity.

"A wolf bit me. A white wolf. And since I'd seen Lila Grayson with some earlier in the day near the same area, I figured it had to be one of hers," Cameron explained. "I suspect you don't have any in the area otherwise. I'm glad that you paid us a visit though. Before her wolves bite anyone else, I want to press charges." The officers traded conspiratorial looks, but the impression Faith got from the exchange was that Lila and her wolves were either above suspicion, or Lila and Kintail brought too much business into the area to warrant an investigation. Small town politics. At least that's the way she felt.

"Care to show us your injury?" Officer Adams asked.

Cameron obliged, pulling up his sleeve to expose his skin, but nothing on his arm indicated he'd been bitten. No bruising, no bite marks, nothing.

Faith stared at his arm in disbelief, his expression just as surprised. "It was bad last night," she said, "but he healed up quickly, and this morning all that was left was bruising and shallow bite marks. You can see a little dried blood still. And my bloodied towel." She pointed to where Cameron had left it on the kitchen countertop. "I'd wrapped it around the wound."

Officer Adams frowned at Cameron. "Mind if we take it with us and have it checked out?"

Whitson continued to be the strong, silent type. Although now he warily watched Cameron, no longer keeping his attention on Faith.

"Why? What's happened?" Faith asked.

"Charles Roux found a dead body not far from here. He went on in with his dog sled and reported it at Skidoo Rentals at the trailhead. They passed the word along to us since there's no reception out here for phones."

Not believing another dead body had mysteriously turned up, Faith cleared her throat. "Who died?"

"Not sure until we positively ID him. No papers on him."

"Did he die in the same way?" Faith asked.

"Can't say. Ongoing investigation." Officer Adams tilted his head to the side. "You wouldn't know how the other man died, would you?"

She folded her arms. "Not sure unless I did lab tests." She was used to being asked her opinion about how victims died, but not as a key suspect!

"You say you saw Lila Grayson with some of her wolves," Officer Adams directed to Cameron as if he had never mentioned the fact that one of the wolves had bitten him. "Did she tell you where your partners are?"

"Hunting, she said. She told me they were quitting the partnership, but I don't believe it. I want to hear it for myself, so she said she'd let them know. Problem is I'm not sure she's telling the truth about any of it."

The officer jotted down something, then looked up at Cameron. "Maybe you should have a look at the dead man. Just in case it's one of your partners."

Cameron's jaw tightened, but he didn't say a word.

Faith took hold of his hand and squeezed. "Can I go, too? As a courtesy? I can have a look at him and see if I notice anything about the body that might help you in your investigation."

"We have our own investigators on it, but thanks for the offer, ma'am," Officer Adams said. He didn't sound sincere.

"I don't want to leave Faith here by herself," Cameron said, squeezing her hand back. Was he really worried about her safety? Or did he think she might see something he'd miss?

"She can't go. Not without permission from our head honchos, and we can't get it out here. Maybe she can visit with Charles Roux while we take you out there. You say your snowmobiles were stolen?"

"Yeah, and then they were returned behind the shower building," Faith said. "Really bizarre. When I saw them, I hollered for Cameron, and when he came around the building, the wolf attacked. So we never did have a chance to bring the machines back here to my cabin."

"We'll take a look at them. Are you ready to go with us, Mr. MacPherson?" Adams asked.

"Faith?" Cameron said.

She nodded and pulled on her ski jacket. As soon as Cameron was out of sight, she was going to have words with Hilson and get her father's flash drive back. Pronto. And although she wanted to see Trevor Hodges to learn more what went on, if she could get the flash drive, she would be happy enough to leave and forget about the cold, about Trevor, about everything. Except for Cameron. But what if the spark she felt for him was a case of instant rebound from Hilson's betrayal? What if having a fling with Cameron was nothing more than a way of validating that any man would want her?

That's what she was afraid of as she headed to the lodge with Cameron to see Charles Roux, when all she wanted to do was find Hilson's cabin and give him a big piece of her mind.

Cameron escorted Faith to the main lodge, despite her telling him he didn't need to take her all the way there. But he seemed on edge and wanted to speak to her privately. She assumed it had to do with the reaction she had when she heard Hilson was staying in one of the other cabins, but Cameron hadn't wanted to bring it up in front of the police.

"Do you know either of the men who are staying at the other cabins?" he asked her, his voice hushed as he walked her up onto the lodge's porch.

Yeah, she guessed right. What would he think? He might be pissed that she didn't tell him she and her boyfriend had just split up.

"Hilson Snowdon is my ex-boyfriend. I didn't know he was here."

Cameron stared at her for a second, his face wearing a mask of disbelief. "This was recent? That the relationship was dissolved?"

He seemed more than troubled by the news, as if he had more of a long-term interest in her. No, that wasn't it. Something else seemed to be eating at him.

Cameron added, "If he's followed you here, I assume he wasn't the one to do the ditching."

That came out harshly. And the notion suddenly dawned on her that he might have had a relationship that ended badly for him recently, too. Great. She hadn't intended to hurt anyone, but she couldn't deal with this right now.

Cameron seemed cold and distant, while the police officers watched them both with too much interest, and although she didn't think they were close enough to hear the conversation, they seemed to be trying anyway. Hell, her affairs were her own and had nothing to do with Cameron's problems in the least.

"Our relationship was… complicated. And for your information, he left without a word a couple of days ago."

"A couple of days ago?"

"Yeah, Cameron. Why don't we just leave it at that for now?" She hadn't meant to sound hurt and angry. But she couldn't help it. Cameron's whole expression was one of accusation. That she'd pushed Hilson away somehow maybe. Either that or Cameron didn't care for the fact it had been recent and Hilson was here, as if he had followed her and was still in love with her. But she didn't want to explain that he'd stolen her father's research in front of the police officers, who wouldn't do anything about it anyway. All she needed was for Hilson to turn up dead, and then they'd figure she really was the guilty party, as mad as she was at him for stealing her father's flash drive.

But then she wondered if Cameron's reaction wasn't tied to worrying if the dead man was one of his partners and in some bizarre way, he was unloading on her. Pretending that his tone didn't bother her, she said, "I'm sure your friends are safe."

"I believe you're right." But he didn't sound convinced, which made her think he probably had a better take on the situation than she did. "Stay with Charles here at the inn, and I'll be back in a while, Faith."

To talk more about her relationship with Hilson? No thanks.

He turned and headed off to where the police officers waited with their snowmobiles. He didn't look back at her, or even make eye contact with her one last time, as if she'd already vanished. His attitude? He'd made a mistake in getting to know her even for the brief interval they'd been together; time to cut his losses and run.

Faith rubbed her arms in the winter chill, ground her teeth in frustration, then waited until Cameron was out of sight. She had half a mind to dump his bags onto the porch, move him out of her life pronto, take care of business, and return home just as she intended. She didn't need any more drama in her life that involved men with an attitude.

Hell, she had enough problems.

Then, for a minute, she was torn. Talk to Charles Roux and find out Hilson's cabin name, or find it herself? She figured she might as well talk to Charles. But after she walked inside, she found the lodge empty. Figuring he must be out with the dogs or doing something else for one of the guests, she left the lodge.

With no time to lose, she headed for the tree-lined path beside the lake, leading to the other cabins, determined to discover which one Hilson was in, and have her say with him, confiscate the flash drive, and now, maybe even return to Millinocket before it got too late today.

She trudged through the knee-deep snow, some in drifts as high as her shoulders, not that she'd traverse those. Past her place, she finally reached the White Wolf Den, marked by a carved painted wolf sign that looked like the wolf that had attacked Cameron. Which brought to mind Cameron's wolf bite—she still couldn't believe he could heal that fast.

She peered into the windows of his cabin. The place was dark, and when she tried the door, she found it was locked. She continued on past it, winding her way through the spruce trees until she reached the next cabin, also facing the lake. She was glad her place was closer to the main lodge and shower facility. What would other guests do if they had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night?

The next cabin, complete with a tower, was called the Eagle's Nest. She went up to the door and knocked. No answer. She peered into the window, hoping she wouldn't see the occupant, Leidolf Wildhaven, staying here, instead of Hilson Snowdon. The living room, kitchen, and dining room looked unoccupied. But then Hilson was a neatnik, so it still might be his place.

All she needed to find was his bag, clothes, anything to identify this was his cabin.

She reached for the doorknob, but something flashed by her in the woods. Something. Everything was so white, surely she would have seen if it was a person dressed in something other than white. But nothing. She didn't see anything but the snow-covered firs. Barely a whisper of a breeze caressed the snow-laden limbs. And everything was silent. At least in summer, the lake water probably rippled on the shore, but now it was solidly frozen. Eerily silent.

Although she was bundled to the hilt, she suddenly felt cold, chilled, like when she thought the gray pickup had been following her. And then she realized she hadn't spoken to Lila about who might own the pickup. One of her employees? Or maybe Kintail, since Faith didn't figure anyone else would run around with a wolf attached at their hip except for the owners.

She stood frozen on the porch, watching for any movement in the woods. Nothing. She took a deep frosty breath and turned back to twist the doorknob when she saw movement inside the dark cabin. She pulled her hand away from the door and froze.

Whoever it was had headed out of the bedroom and paused in the darkness as if he suddenly realized a woman was peering in at him. Even in the low light, she could see a mouthful of white teeth. She didn't think it was Hilson. The guy was as tall as Cameron, but not as tall as Hilson. And he appeared to be the same build as Cameron, not as husky, as far as she could see in the dim light. She whipped around and meant to leave and look for the next cabin when the occupant of the Eagle's Nest opened the door in such a rush, she gasped.

"Well," the man said, his voice deep and charming, "to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Faith turned and faced the man occupying the Eagle's Nest cabin, his chestnut hair tinged red, green eyes full of mystery and intrigue.

His mouth curved up a trace, but at the same time his eyes darkened a bit, and the next question from his lips pinned her with accusation. "Are you lost?"