That was help she didn’t need. She managed a smile and shook her head. “I don’t think so. But thanks, anyway.”
He gave her a brief nod. “I’m in town for a few days,” he said. “I’ve heard you’re a wolf researcher, Ms. Warrington. As it happens, I’m here to visit the International Wolf Center in Ely. I’m from British Columbia, and wolves are a special interest of mine.”
Alex felt her smile become strained. “I see. That’s… very nice, Mr. Gévaudan.”
Gévaudan’s mouth quirked, as if he sensed her desire to be gone. “I’d like to have a chance to talk with you further. I’m staying at a cabin just up Bigtooth Road. I don’t have a phone there, but I check in frequently at the store. I’d be very pleased if you and your friend would accept an invitation to dinner, at your convenience.”
Alex shifted from one foot to the other. “That’s a very kind offer. I don’t know if I—if Kieran…”
“Please think about it,” Gévaudan said. “I hope to be talking to you soon.” He glanced at Kieran, nodded to her a final time, and moved onto the sidewalk. Alex hesitated a moment longer.
“Thanks again.”
“Glad to help,” he said. He raised his hand in salute, and Alex turned to look for Kieran.
He was walking away—unsteadily, with none of his usual grace. Walking toward the edge of town.
“Damn,” she said under her breath, and started after him. She grabbed his arm and hauled him to a stop.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.
He grinned at her with a lopsided lack of humor. “For a walk in the woods.”
“You’re drunk,” she said. “You couldn’t walk to the end of the block.”
He started to shake her off, but for once she had the greater strength of will. He let himself be pulled back to the truck and pushed into the passenger seat. When she looked past Kieran and out the window, Luke Gévaudan was gone.
* * *
The fool. The bloody, arrogant fool.
Withdrawing into the doorway of the gun shop, Joseph watched Alexandra Warrington drive away.
Schaeffer had failed him. He was weak, a tool that broke under pressure, a rifle that misfired at first use. And Kieran Holt had gone with Alexandra Warrington once again, leaving Schaeffer in the dust. Back to shelter, where Joseph could not reach him.
Not until he had devised a new plan.
Arnoux examined the racks of rifles along the wall for a third time, ignoring the avaricious shopkeeper. Hefting one of the two weapons he’d selected, he sighted down the barrel.
A new plan. It would come to him in time, when he had a chance to think, to be alone and out in his woods, free of the noise and stupidity of people.
Perhaps he had made a mistake in not keeping a better watch on the Indians. They might provide the key that Schaeffer had not. Alexandra and Kieran had been on their lands, had often spoken to the Indian mechanic. Arnoux felt a shiver of unease when he thought of Julie Wakanabo, and shook it off with a grimace of anger. He had no belief in barbarous superstitions or Indian mystics.
Arnoux stalked back to the counter and paid for the rifle, earning an obsequious grin from the dealer. It would be best if Kieran Holt appeared to vanish completely—so completely, and with such good reason, that no one would think to look for him in the area, far less on Joseph’s land behind the high walls that had once held Kieran captive.
But the woman was still a problem. Too involved with the boy, too close. And stubborn. Something must be done about her.
Carefully, Joseph. Patience. It will come to you.
He left the store behind him, the new purchase tucked under his arm. The end was coming. He could feel it. Soon he would see the boy was locked away where he could never hurt anyone again, or spread his unnatural blood among humankind.
Until then… Joseph started his truck and waited for the old engine to sputter to life. Until then, Joseph would take communion in the wilderness. He would hunt, knowing the joy that came of filling his true place in the world.