Right after returning from spring break she attended one of the university fundraisers that was set to fund their Pacific Northwest wolf conservation and relocation program. To her shock, all it had taken was a cheating wife and a bottle of booze to obliterate her dreams.
Of course John couldn't be garden variety when it came to his breakdown. Oh no...
Instead of an alcohol bender and some sort of fight that might have landed him in jail for twenty-four hours to sleep it off like a normal person, he got drunk at the party. Then proceeded to take all his clothes off, stand on the bar and tuck his penis between his legs and launch into a long, slurred speech about the stupidity of researching wildlife when we don't even understand the humans and supernatural currently living among us.
She shook her head. It had taken three big bodyguards to drag his ass down and off campus. Needless to say, he was not going to be teaching students or heading any more research projects anytime soon.
And in her case—no professor, no assistant position. She was let go effective immediately and who in their right mind wanted to hire a biologist associated with a very public scandal?
She stabbed her foot into the sand.
Nobody, that's who. As evidenced by her deathly silent cell phone and university after university declining to interview her for so much as a janitorial position.
Although it was her recent research that took the biggest hit. Her findings from her spring break trip were confiscated and her computers with all of her data seized by the university.
Which was a round about but direct way of saying that's how she ended up here. The small island that after one night of camping on the beach had stuck in her brain.
Rumors of the island having an unusually large pack of wolves had her suspicious and under the guise of a backpacking trip with friends, she'd come here to gather any evidence of said wolves and what might have drawn them to such a small territory of a mere two hundred and sixty acres.
Then there was the lone wolf from this beach...
She couldn't shake the memory of the wolf hovering in the tree line watching her. His behavior had struck her odd and she wanted to know more.
Of course he might have been stalking the group for some sort of attack, but she doubted it. Its body language had not seemed primed for an attack.
Prue wiped the hair out of her eyes. Maybe she was going crazy. Thinking that a wolf was watching her like she was something other than prey sounded pretty stupid even in her own mind.
"Hi there."
Prue twisted to the female voice behind her and found a pretty blonde coming up behind her.
"Hello," she answered cautiously. She wasn't really up for idle chit chat with a stranger. This was supposed to be her "feel sorry for myself" whinefest and she was gearing up for a pretty big pity party later that evening.
"I hear there's a storm brewing. You might want to head back to the mainland before the bridge washes out." The woman plopped down in the sand next to her. "I mean I wouldn't want you to get stranded here with nothing to do and nowhere to go. What with the lack of amenities for hu—uh—people."
Prue shrugged, eying the woman warily. "I could always take shelter in the club by the bridge."
The woman laughed. "I didn't take you for the stripper club kind of person."
Prue looked down at her ragged, thread bare tank top and tattered jeans that had definitely seen better days, but made her ridiculously comfortable. "I guess you're right. I'm not exactly dressed the part, huh?"
The woman snorted. "If you think the guys in there would care one iota how you are dressed you couldn't be more wrong. They won't be able to see past your boobs."
Prue scrunched up her face at the image that put in her brain. Perverts in a dark club drooling over mostly naked women. Yuck.
"Yeah, no thanks."
The stranger laughed and stuck out her hand. "I'm Allison by the way. I live here on the island."
Prue took her hand and was pleasantly surprised to find she had a firm, trustworthy handshake. Nothing was as bad as meeting a woman and shaking a limp hand. It gave her the creeps. "Prue Davis," she answered. "I don't live here obviously."
"What brings you to our humble little island? Vacation?"
She studied Allison for a moment and wondered how much to tell her. It seemed a little odd that she popped out of nowhere and was now grilling her for a life story.
"Yeah. A little getaway. I was here several months ago on a backpacking trip and I guess the place stuck with me." She lifted her shoulders. "So I'm back."
"You got a room at the motel? I noticed this morning we were full."
The unease crawling up Prue's back thickened. She had no idea why this woman was being so nosy about her, but it made her uncomfortable.