He sniffed the air again, his human-form senses not nearly as attuned as his wolf's, but still strong. All he could smell, though, was pine and spruce and pinon and the deep, rich, loamy smells of summer. Soil fed by dying leaves and needles, plants fed by spring runoff from the snowy mountains, and the smoke from an open grill as some hunter out there on the other side of town cooked a venison steak.
His stomach grumbled again. Questions could wait.
Weird smells, or not. Richard finding his true mate, or not. None of that mattered.
Right now, all he could think about was supper.
Chapter Six
Jessica
“Curious Turtle,” I said into my cell phone, my voice tight as I worried about whether or not it would be another animatronic voice piped through some computer. They'd been calling both the gallery and my cell phone for so long, that I'd begun to dread any unknown number. And, to think, before all this started I'd thought telemarketers were bad! “How can I help you?”
“Jessica? It's Richard.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. Not because it was familiar, the animatronic crazy man was more than that by now, but because something about him was reassuring. Then, my breath caught in my throat again as I realized he wouldn't be calling me unless there was a problem.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“No, no, everything's fine. Just giving you an update, and I figured it would look strange if I walked back in. Also, I'm calling to see if you've reconsidered the offer on the safe house.”
“What's the update?”
“Our people are working on getting information on Wyatt Axelrod, should have something tomorrow morning. Also, our IT person will be by early to look at your fax machine, and see what she can dig up. She's pretty sure she can figure out where it came from, so that gives us a good lead.”
I nodded, my chest loosening a little.
“Now, about the safe house. The offer is still open. I'd be much more confident in being able to keep you safe, there.”
“I have dogs, Richard. I can't just abandon them for the night.”
“No friends who can look in on them?”
“And not have it look strange when I didn't tell them about my leaving town? Wouldn't that just tip someone off?”
“Pick them up and head to the house afterwards?”
“I just want to stay in my own home, tonight, okay? It's just . . . it's just where I feel safest, alright? Is that too much to ask?”
He sighed on the other line. “No, I can appreciate that. Well, whichever spot you choose, I'll be there.”
Something about the way he said that last part, that he'd be there, actually filled me with a little confidence, like a balm to soothe my aggravated fight or flight instinct. What person wouldn't feel that way, though, with a tough guy like Richard Murdoch reassuring them over the phone?
“Heading out soon?” he asked.
“Just about to grab my purse,” I replied as I went around to my desk and pulled my handbag from the drawer. “Are you going to follow me?”
“Short distance behind. You'll see me, I'm sure, but no one else should. And, remember, I need to be the first one in the house. Wait for me when you get there. If anything seems off, you leave. Okay?”
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. “Got it. See you soon, then.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he replied in a clipped voice just before we both hung up. I tucked my phone away in my purse and headed out through the gallery, giving it the once over.
I didn't know what to think about all this. First the threats, now Blake's nephew coming on the scene? Were the two linked? Richard seemed to think so, but he was an outsider looking in. I shook my head, sighing. Maybe that outsider status somehow gave Richard more perspective than I had? I didn't know. All I knew was, I was scared. Scared and worried. About my future, about my safety.
I locked up and headed out to my car, glancing around. I caught sight of my security blanket in his old, beat up Jeep Wrangler down the block. I resisted the urge to wave, and just climbed into my old red Jetta, started her up, and took off for home.
I lived up on the south side of town, in a little two bedroom cabin I rented. It wasn't anything extravagant, but the view out of the big picture windows was incredible. It was worth the couple hundred extra dollars a month to get such a spectacular view every morning, and it was only a short drive during the summer. Of course, during the winter months, the trek was longer, and moderately more dangerous, but that went for everything from October to April.
Richard's old Jeep was just barely visible in my rear view mirror. In fact, if I hadn't have known I was being tailed, I wouldn't have even thought twice about it. What did that say about me, though? Just lackadaisically going through life without a care in the world?