Her Lone Wolf Read online

  Damn, Danica was good at this manipulation stuff. Sometimes it wasn’t fair how easily she could control the average man.

  “Sir, we knew the task force had all the traditional bases covered, so we decided to look at the case from a different angle,” she explained. “We wanted to make sure you and the FBI maintained plausible deniability if our idea proved wrong and the press learned about it.”

  Carhart eyed her thoughtfully. He was probably trying to figure out if she was feeding him a load of crap or not. But if there was one thing people like him understood and valued, it was covering the boss’s ass.

  “I understand.” He surveyed the living room. “What’s the story on this guy? I want to know who he is and what led you to him.”

  Danica gave him a sanitized version that was pretty close to the truth—at least a version of it. And she did it with a straight face that Clayne could never have managed.

  Ray McDermott had witnessed a mountain lion attack in Colorado a few years ago and what he’d seen had apparently unhinged him. Ray had moved to the Sacramento area after that and changed his name to Douglas Lister. Along with his new name, he had a newfound urge to hunt people.

  “Are you saying this guy thinks he’s a mountain lion?” Carhart asked.

  Danica shrugged. “We don’t know that for sure, sir, but you can see why we wanted to check this out quietly before we put it out there.”

  Clayne’s mouth curved. It sounded so good he almost believed it himself.

  Carhart nodded. “Good work. If it got out that the FBI was tracking down a werecougar, it could be embarrassing. Any chance this guy was involved in those attacks out in Colorado?”

  “We don’t think so,” Clayne jumped in. He didn’t want the FBI sniffing around a case involving more deaths at the hands of a shifter. Although by now the DCO would have made sure those medical examiner reports were sanitized. “We checked the ME reports and they were legit animal attacks. McDermott is trying to recreate the violence he saw in the mountain lion attacks.”

  “Okay, let’s get this guy’s face in every newspaper and news channel,” Carhart said.

  Clayne exchanged looks with Danica. “That’s not a good idea,” he said. “If we back McDermott into a corner, he could do something crazy. Like go for multiple victims or take hostages or bolt.”

  That made the fed think twice. “Okay. Then get a BOLO out to all levels of law enforcement, but do it over the phone. I don’t want someone with a scanner picking this up over the radio. And once we find this guy, I want to be on the scene when he’s taken down.” He gave Clayne a pointed look. “No more lone wolf crap.”

  * * *

  Tony stayed at McDermott’s house to help search for clues while Clayne and Danica went back to the FBI offices. The moment they walked into the command center, Wayne intercepted them. “The Hunter called a few minutes ago. He knows you’ve identified him and he knew you were at his house. He’s really pissed. Said that if you’re not going to play by the rules, neither will he.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Danica asked.

  “No clue, but he said he’s going to change the game, hunt someone who will make everyone more motivated to follow the rules.” The profiler looked at Clayne. “He said you’d understand.”

  Right now, he had no idea what this psycho was thinking. In the command center, agents were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Clayne jerked his head in that direction. “What’s going on in there?”

  “The Hunter left the phone off the hook instead of hanging up. We’re trying to trace it. If it’s like before, it’s going to be useless, but we figured there’s nothing wrong with trying.”

  Clayne frowned. McDermott hadn’t left the phone off the hook by accident. He’d done it because he wanted them to know where he’d been.

  “Number’s coming through!” someone called out.

  Clayne and Danica followed Hobson into the room. A phone number slowly appeared on the main computer screen at the front of the room, one digit at a time. He found himself holding his breath, along with everyone else, as each number emerged. The area code came first, followed by the local exchange. Then a longer delay as the last four numbers popped up, one after another.

  There were still two numbers left to go when he heard Danica let out a strangled moan. “Oh God, no.”

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer, but just kept staring at the screen, whispering the word no over and over and really scaring the shit out of him.

  “We have it,” a curly-haired tech announced. “Running the address.”

  “I already know where it is,” Danica said in that same anguished tone.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at her. But she only continued to stare at the screen.

  “Danica,” Clayne prompted.

  She turned to him, her face suddenly pale. “It’s Tony’s home number.”

  * * *

  Clayne drove this time. Mostly because he didn’t think Danica was stable enough to get behind the wheel. He’d seen her face a lot of terrible stuff, but right now she looked about as devastated as he’d ever seen her. He’d only met Beth Moretti once, but he liked her. And now she was in the hands of a crazy shifter because her husband was working the case.

  Clayne gripped the wheel tighter. He broke every traffic law on the books getting to Tony’s place—a convoy of FBI vehicles and cop cruisers behind him. When they got to the sprawling ranch house, Clayne drove right up on the nicely manicured lawn and slammed on the brakes.

  The moment Clayne saw the front door was open, he turned to tell Danica to stay in the car, but she already had her weapon out and was running for the house. He swore and chased after her.

  She stopped in the doorway. “Is he still here?”

  He inhaled deeply through his nose, then shook his head. “No.”

  She took a tentative step forward, then stopped again. “Is Beth…?”

  Danica let the rest of the question hang, but he knew what she wanted to know. Was Beth dead? Clayne didn’t answer right away, but instead took another sniff. “I don’t smell blood.”

  He led the way into the house, his gun lowered. The couch in the living room was overturned, as were the two matching chairs. The coffee table was broken in two. The rest of the room was pretty trashed, too, books and knickknacks everywhere.

  Clayne stepped over what used to be a statue of an angel.

  “It looks like she put up a fight,” he told Danica.

  Behind them, federal agents and local cops poured in the door. They immediately split up and searched the house, hoping against hope they were wrong and that Beth was hiding somewhere in the house. But Clayne knew better. Beth wasn’t here. So while they did that, he searched the house for something that’d tell him where McDermott had taken Beth.

  He was still checking out the living room when Tony ran in, Carhart on his heels. Danica hurried to intercept Tony, but she couldn’t hide the damage. The fed shook his head, mumbling something unintelligible over and over even as Danica tried to reassure him that Beth was still alive.

  On the other side of the living room, Carhart was on his phone telling whoever was on the other end that one of their own was in danger and that he wanted every FBI agent and cop out looking for McDermott. Shit, he almost sounded like a worthwhile human being for once.

  Clayne headed for the kitchen, only to stop in mid-stride when he heard a buzzing sound. He stopped and cocked his head, listening, but he couldn’t hear anything over the FBI agents and crime scene techs and Carhart and Tony and Danica all talking at once.

  “Everyone, shut up. Now!” he roared so loud the house shook. Even Danica jumped. “Listen!”

  The entire room froze, falling silent as everyone listened for something they couldn’t possibly hear with their ordinary hearing. But Clayne heard it. A vibrating cell phone. He followed the sound across the room to the sofa. The noise was coming from underneath it. He grabbed
the leather couch and flipped it over on its side with one hand, not caring who saw his show of strength. He dug in between the seat cushions that had somehow managed to stay in place when McDermott had trashed the living room until he found the cell phone hidden there.

  Clayne thumbed the answer button and put it to his ear. “Hello, Douglas. Or do you prefer Ray?”

  There was a silence on the other end for a moment before the cat shifter laughed. “So you figured out who I am. And I always thought dogs were dumb.”

  Clayne caught movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced up to see Danica doing everything she could to keep Tony from grabbing the phone out of his hand.

  “You took someone you weren’t supposed to,” he told the other shifter. “What kind of hunt do you expect to get out of a woman?”

  On the other side of the room, Tony almost collapsed at the words.

  “This isn’t about good hunting. This is about you cheating,” McDermott said. “We had a fun game going. I grab rabbits and you try to stop me. But then you went and screwed it up. Figuring out who I am and tossing my place isn’t part of the game.”

  Clayne flexed his free hand, forcing his claws to stay put instead of extending like they wanted to. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands around McDermott’s throat right now.

  “So, what kind of game are we playing now?” he asked.

  “The same kind we were playing before. I’m going to release my fresh little bunny at midnight. You have until then to figure out where I’m going to do it.” He laughed softly. “Something tells me you’ll work even harder this time to get there since I’ve given you such motivation. Just remember, this game is between us. If I see anyone else, smell anyone else, I might be tempted to end the game before we start, like I did when you brought in that park ranger and those two feds. What fun would that be?”

  Clayne clenched his jaw. “How do I know she’s even still alive? This place is pretty trashed. For all I know, you could have killed her already. It’s obvious you have control issues.”

  The shifter let out a derisive snort. “Coming from someone like you, that’s rich. But don’t worry, I’m keeping her safe for the hunt.”

  Like Clayne was going to take this asshole’s word for it. “Put her on the phone.”

  The killer didn’t answer and Clayne was half afraid the man had hung up. But he could still hear McDermott’s even breathing on the other end of the line.

  “I know you have her there listening to everything you’re saying just so you can scare her more than she already is,” Clayne said. “Hell, you’re probably popping a boner right now from watching her tremble.”

  “Damn, we do know each other well.”

  The shifter let out a low, rumbling purr. There was a jumble of sound on the other end of the line, then Beth’s trembling voice.

  “Tony?”

  Clayne thumbed the speaker button and gave Tony a nod.

  “Beth?” Tony’s voice was shaking as much as his wife’s. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. This jerk kicked in the door and—”

  The rest was cut off as McDermott pulled the phone away. Beth muttered something that sounded like a curse, but it was quickly muffled.

  “Beth!” Tony’s face went red. “You sick son of a bitch! If you hurt her, I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?”

  Tony reached for the phone, but Danica caught his arm, pulling him back.

  “There you go, Leidolf,” the shifter told Clayne. “As you heard, the fed’s fine rabbit is just that—fine. Whether she stays that way is totally up to you.”

  Clayne couldn’t suppress the low rumble that came from his throat this time. He was going to make this jackass scream before he killed him. A few feet away, Danica gave him a warning look. That was when he noticed everyone in the room was staring at him like he was as much of a psycho as the guy on the phone. Clayne forced the animal inside down.

  “So how’s this going down? You give me another cryptic code, knowing there’s no way I can figure it out in time?” he asked McDermott. “Why don’t you just cut the crap and let the woman go, then tell me where to meet you? That way we can handle this one on one.”

  “Nice try. But I think I’ll keep my hands on this particular rabbit.” The cat shifter laughed. “This game is going to happen exactly the way I want it to. Which means no cryptic codes. I left you something at the house to tell you where to find me. You’re going to have to follow that nose of yours to find it, though.”

  There was a click on the other end of the line. Clayne resisted the urge to throw the phone through the wall and tossed it on the couch instead.

  Except for Danica and the few other agents who were working to keep Tony calm, the house was quiet. Keep Tony calm. Yeah, right. Good luck with that.

  Carhart walked over to Clayne. “You sure you don’t have a history with this guy? Because for whatever reason, he’s made this whole thing about you.” He regarded Clayne shrewdly. “And what the hell did he mean about using your nose to find the clue he left for you?”

  If it were anyone but the fed asking, maybe Clayne could have kept his cool. But he really didn’t like the way Carhart kept getting up in his grill—well, as much as the man could considering he was at least six inches shorter. But the effect was still the same. Carhart was trying to bully him, and his inner beast wasn’t in the mood.

  Clayne clenched his hands into fists, ignoring the way his claws dug into his palms. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, hoping his pupils weren’t already changing. If Carhart didn’t back off, everyone in the room was going to get a full-on shifter display in the next ten seconds—quickly followed by flying lessons for all of them.

  “I think the killer was trying to say he left a clue somewhere in the house and that Agent Buchanan is going to have to sniff it out,” Danica said softly. “Like a dog or something.”

  Clayne felt his claws retract at the sound of his lover’s voice.

  “Agent Beckett, sensible as always,” Carhart said. “I didn’t think of it that way. I’ll get everyone searching the house.”

  Clayne heard Carhart walk away. Sensed Danica moving closer. Her sweet feminine scent surrounded him, washing away the last of his rage.

  He opened his eyes to find her looking up at him with concern in her dark eyes. How had the DCO known they would be so perfect together when they’d teamed them up all those years ago? For the hundredth time that day, he thanked God she’d ended up back in his life.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  The urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her in front of everyone was hard to resist, but he did. Not because he gave a crap about how it would look, but because he knew Danica wouldn’t have wanted that right then. She was as worried about Beth as Tony was. They had to focus on getting the woman back.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.”

  She jerked her head at the FBI agents, local cops, and crime scene techs already searching the house. “If there’s a clue your nose is supposed to find, we better get to it before they completely muck up the place.”

  “Good point.”

  For his nose to work at its best, Clayne had to become blind to everything else going on around him. So, he shut everything else out, knowing Danica would run interference for him, and concentrated.

  As Clayne moved through the living room, he saw Carhart pull Tony aside. Clayne didn’t have to eavesdrop to know what he was saying. The defeated look in Tony’s eyes told him Carhart was putting him on the bench. Probably telling him, “You’re too close to this to be of any use. Trust me, we’ll find Beth. We have the full resources of the FBI on this.”

  What a load of shit.

  Clayne turned his attention away and focused on the shifter’s scent, carefully following it from the front door he’d kicked in, then throughout the house. Clayne hoped it’d lead him directly from the living room to wherever this supposed clue was hidden. But it didn’t. M
cDermott had been in every single room in the house. Worse, he’d rummaged through stuff—drawers, cabinets, pantry, closets, storage bins. Everywhere. Instead of grabbing Beth and running, the damn psycho had wandered around the place for no other reason than because he wanted to lay a difficult trail for Clayne to follow. Which meant something that should have been handled in five minutes took freaking forever. More than an hour later, he was still sniffing from room to room. Even Danica, with all her charm and personality, was having a hard time covering for a guy who was walking around like a drunk bloodhound.

  Then he hit a fresh trail by the back door, one that was a mix of the shifter’s scent and Beth’s.

  “Shit,” Clayne whispered to Danica. “He went outside.”

  They earned a few more frowns and suspicious looks as they opened the back door, which had been sealed by the forensics team, and headed out across the well-manicured lawn. The scent was easier to follow out here—too easy. A scent this intense usually meant there was blood involved.

  The trail ended at the edge of the woods.

  Clayne stopped and looked around, sniffing the air. There, stuck in the crook of a tree branch right at head height where it would be easy to find, was a bundle of fabric, tied with a strip of cloth. There wasn’t a shifter around that’d have a hard time finding it—that much blood left a distinctive odor.

  “What is it?” Danica asked, keeping an eye on the house as he reached for the bundle.

  Up close, he realized the material had been torn from a piece of clothing. There was blood on it—a lot. He didn’t have to sniff it to know it was Beth’s. He untied the string and unwrapped the bundle of cloth.

  Danica glanced over her shoulder. “What is it?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  She came around to take a look and made a face. “Is that Beth’s blood?”

  “Yeah. And that’s a pinecone.” He poked at a smeary-looking bit of something beside the pinecone. Identification wasn’t made any easier by the fact that there was more of Beth’s blood on whatever the thing was. “Not sure what the hell this is.”

  Clayne had a sinking feeling he was looking at a piece of Beth. He just didn’t know which part.