Several hours later, Mel stood on the steps of the library, muttering under her breath and contemplating her next move. There must be a way to find Taylor. She had long ago dropped the honorific ‘Mr.’ when thinking of the man—he was now just plain ‘Taylor’ in her mind. Anyone who was causing her this much frustration wasn’t deserving of the extra title.
She shoved her hands in her pocket and tilted her face to the sky, wishing inspiration would descend upon her. A few snowflakes were drifting lazily down and catching on her lashes, causing her to blink rapidly. If she hadn’t been feeling grumpy about her unproductive day, Mel might have appreciated the lacy white precipitation. As it was, she merely brushed the flakes from her face, stomped down the steps and along the sidewalk, morosely noting how her pant cuffs were becoming soaked from the slush. She was heading for the post office now, in the vain hope of finding a lead there.
Possibly, some mail was still being delivered to Ryne’s old, local address. The local postmaster would need to redirect it to his new location, so maybe there was some information to be had from that sector. Privacy laws would likely prevent her from having access to what she needed to know, but at this point, anything was worth a try.
Pushing open the heavy metal and glass doors, Mel entered the buff coloured building and glanced around. The ‘lovely’ impersonal atmosphere that habitually permeated all government offices greeted her. Scuffed terrazzo flooring, a bedraggled fig tree, and bland paint were the extent of the decorating in the cavernous space. Post office boxes lined two walls and several kiosks stood in the middle of the room, displaying posters and various government brochures. At the far end of the room, people stood in a trance-like state waiting for their turn while others huddled around a nearby table, writing addresses on packages or affixing stamps.
Deciding that she’d have a greater chance of success if there wasn’t a long line, Mel pretended to peruse the various posters while keeping an eye on the number of individuals awaiting service. No one spared her a glance, everyone seeming to be busy with their own agendas. The outer door opened, letting in a rush of cold air, causing the various papers and pamphlets to rustle in the breeze before settling down again. Mel glanced towards the source of the mini disturbance and was surprised to see Elise entering with her hunky husband. They appeared to be having a heated discussion, and some inner voice told Mel to make herself scarce.
Quickly positioning herself on the far side of the kiosk, she strained to hear what the two were saying. Their voices were low, but she managed to catch most of the conversation.
“I said I’d never heard of him, but I don’t know if she believed me or not.” Elise whispered to her husband. Mel frowned. What had Elise said his name was? Kyle...? Ken...? Kane! That was it.
A male voice rumbled in reply. “And you say she mentioned the wolf picture?”
“Uh- huh. She said that someone had told her about it and now she wants to write an article on him.”
“Damn! I knew that picture was bad news. I’ve tried to get it back without letting anyone know why. Hell, I’ve even offered to buy it for an exorbitantly ridiculous amount, but the agent representing the buyer claims it’s not for sale at any price. Whoever owns it must know its significance.”
“Maybe not. We might be jumping to conclusions. It was a good picture and possibly someone likes it simply for its artistic value.”
Something growled and Mel had to resist the urge to peek out from her hiding spot. Did they have a dog with them?
“Kane! Shh! You know better than to do that in public.” Elise admonished and Mel frowned. Apparently the man had been doing the growling. That was a strange habit.
“Sorry. It’s just that this is my worst nightmare. Someone discovering— “
Elise interrupted her husband and Mel nearly started growling herself. Discover what? Inwardly, she urged Kane to continue, but of course he didn’t. Elise spoke in soothing tones. “Even if the owner of the photograph is suspicious, there’s no way they’ll ever discover where the picture was taken because the land is private. You've never allowed outsiders into the territory unsupervised. And we’ve covered Ryne’s tracks carefully. After the debacle of the missing payments for Ryne’s other work, Bastian’s doesn’t want to be sued, so they’re bending over backwards to keep us happy. They won’t say anything. And the rest of the pack has always kept a low profile. No one really knows much about Ryne, least of all, where he moved to.”
Kane muttered something indiscernible and the two moved out of hearing range.