Blue Moon ns-1 Read online

  "You won’t trust me?"

  I gave him my "do you think I’m stupid?" glare and he nodded. "Good. Trust no one, Jessie. You will live longer that way."

  Mandenauer and I were in agreement on a lot more than I would have imagined.

  I tightened my ringers on the grip of my pistol and was comforted. Other women might keep relics from their childhood—dolls, stuffed animals, blankets—and pull them out when the going got tough. Me? I preferred a .44 Magnum anytime.

  I didn’t care how many wolves Mandenauer had killed, how many times those animals had behaved in a predictable manner; I wasn’t going to bet my life, or even his, that this one—or twenty—would behave appropriately.

  I remembered Karen Larson’s eyes. I would remember them in my sleep for years to come. Right before she’d died there’d been a flicker of knowledge. She’d still been in there behind the insanity caused by the virus, and she’d been very, very afraid.

  I hated being afraid. Fear smelled of weakness, and the weak did not survive.

  Chapter 9

  I deposited Mandenauer at the Eagle’s Nest. "Let us know if you need anything."

  He leaned in through the passenger window and studied me more closely than I liked. "What if I need an assistant?"

  My pulse quickened at the thought of hunting the wolf or wolves, but I knew better than to appear eager. That was the quickest way to lose what I wanted.

  "Take it up with Clyde." I shifted into reverse and Mandenauer withdrew his head from the window before he lost it.

  The sun was setting as I ambled back toward town. We’d been in the woods longer than I’d thought, which was usually the case. Hours ceased to have meaning when you were walking through the forest. Perhaps that was why I spent so much time there.

  I glanced at my watch, half-expecting the thing to have stopped when I entered the trees near Cadotte’s cottage. Of course it hadn’t. Time had marched on even as I had.

  My stomach rumbled. I thought about what I might have in my refrigerator at home, and knew it was the usual. Squat.

  When I reached the Sportsman’s Bar and Grill, I turned off the highway and went inside. A cheeseburger and soda later I went home. Darkness had descended completely while I was eating. I had three hours before my shift started at eleven. I could have savored another cola in the Sportsman, which was what I usually did when I ate there.

  But tonight the patrons, as well as the owner, the bartender, and the waitresses, had been full of questions about what was rotten in Miniwa. I’d answered them as best I could without really telling them anything they didn’t already know.

  They were nervous, though, and they made me nervous. So I left after one long, tall glass.

  Now what?

  Nights like these brought home to me the pathetic nature of my life. I had no friends but Zee, and I’d see her soon enough. No boyfriend—no kidding. No family but my mother, -who was in Arizona. Thank God.

  Most days I was fine with how things had turned out. I had the job I’d always wanted in a town I’d always loved. I had a decent apartment and the promise of a better future.

  I’d bought 250 acres just outside of Miniwa where I planned to build a home someday. Right now I kept it free of a trophy buck every fall.

  If life wasn’t perfect, it certainly didn’t suck. But there were times I just felt… lonely.

  I could drive out to my land and do laps in my private pond. Instead of jogging, as many of my counterparts—excluding Clyde—did to keep in shape, I chose to swim. A lot less stress on the knees and a great way to increase upper body strength.

  I’m all for equality in the workplace, but you can’t argue with nature. Men had more upper body strength.

  didn’t like it, but moaning wouldn’t change anything. More reps in the pond would.

  pulled the Crown Victoria into my parking space. Since one of the officer benefits was personal use of the company vehicle—to a point—I didn’t even own a car. I rarely went anywhere but here.

  I stared up at my apartment. Though it was summer, the night wind in northern Wisconsin had a nip to it. Stripping to my Speedo and diving into a lake held little appeal.

  That the lake was nestled at the edge of a very dense, dark section of the woods lessened the appeal even more. I wasn’t chicken, but I wasn’t foolish, either. I could swim at the rec center as I’d been doing all winter—at least until the wolf problem was resolved.

  Maybe I’d have that second cola on my rarely visited balcony, sitting on my seldom-used porch furniture. I had a decent view on my side of the building, if I’d ever take a minute to look. The trees shaded the patio and someone had put a flower garden on a small knoll to the east. Perhaps I’d take a minute now.

  Once inside I removed my gun, set the weapon on top of my refrigerator, and stashed the bullets in my pocket. A lot of precautions for a woman who lived alone, but who knows when company might come. This way, if someone found the gun they wouldn’t have any bullets. If I needed the gun, the bullets were already on me.

  I looped the heavy utility belt over the coatrack. My gaze caught on the cell phone still tucked in the holder.

  I frowned. Why hadn’t Cadotte called? I needed to get that totem back before Clyde blew another brain cell.

  I glanced at my message machine, but the light wasn’t blinking. I checked the phone on my belt. Sometimes cell service cuts out in the deep woods, and sometimes it doesn’t. Why or why not is a mystery. But my battery was fine and there were no messages there, either.

  I caught a whiff of myself and headed for the bedroom. Missing bodies and rabid wolves made for a lot of nervous sweat. I stripped to the waist, then took a quick sponge bath and yanked a fresh khaki short-sleeved shirt from my closet.

  Buttoning the front, I returned to the kitchen and snagged one of the two colas I had left. I needed to go grocery shopping—my least favorite thing. When you lived alone and cooked rarely, the amount of choices in a grocery store was confusing. I usually came out with stuff I didn’t need and more that I didn’t know what to do with.

  Something clinked against the floor-length sliding doors leading to my patio. I glanced in that direction. Nothing but black night filled the glass. All I could see was myself.

  "Probably a really big bug," I murmured. "Or a low-flying dumb bird."

  I headed across the small living area, flicked the lock, picked up the metal rod that braced the door, and slid it open. Crickets chirped; the trees rustled; a chilly wind swirled into the room. I’d never noticed how dark this side of the building was.

  I cast a quick, longing glance toward my gun, then shook my head. I was not going to sit on my balcony armed. I was supposed to be relaxing. Besides, what was going to get me up here? Even a rabid wolf couldn’t jump fifty feet in the air. Could it?

  Since I hated being afraid, I made myself step onto the porch. I leaned my forearms along the railing, cradling my soda in my palms.

  The only reason I had a chill down my back was the icy remnants of winter on the breeze. As I stared at the forest, something slunk along the edge of the woods. Something low to the ground, something furry with a tail.

  "Coyote," I said, and my voice sounded loud in the stillness of the night.

  I thought about what I’d said and frowned. Wolves wouldn’t tolerate coyotes in their territory. So had I really seen what I thought I had?

  I straightened and scanned the tree line again. But the night was too dark. Where was the moon?

  Lifting my gaze to the sky, I caught a muted silver glow hanging halfway between the earth and the apex. When had the clouds moved in?

  The scuffle of a foot against rocks and dirt pulled my attention from the sky to the ground. A man stood below my balcony.

  The soda slipped from my hand. I gasped. He glanced up and snatched the can from the air seconds before it would have smashed into his head.

  Soda sloshed across his shirt. His gaze met mine.

  "You throw things at everyone, or am
I just lucky?" Cadotte asked.

  Chapter 10

  "Where the hell did you come from?" I snapped.

  My heart thundered and my hands shook. He’d scared me, not only by appearing out of nowhere, but by almost getting himself knocked out in my yard.

  "Right now, or in general?"

  "What?"

  "I come from Minnesota originally. I just came out of those woods right now."

  "The woods?"

  "You know those trees all bunched together?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

  A comedian, exactly what I didn’t need.

  "You shouldn’t be out alone at night."

  "I think I can handle myself." He lifted the can of soda to his mouth and drained the rest in one long gulp.

  I found myself overly fascinated with the muscles flexing and releasing in his throat. The way he’d snatched that soda can out of thin air had been amazing.

  "How’d you do that?" I asked.

  He crushed the can in one hand. My heart went pitter-pat.

  "Do what?"

  I flicked a finger at the can. "Your reflexes seem downright superhuman."

  "There’s a lot about me that’s superhuman." He .smirked. "Wanna see?"

  The man flirted as easily as he breathed. But why was he flirting with me?

  "No thanks. What are you doing here?"

  "I got your message." He reached into the pocket of his jeans and held up something between his thumb and forefinger. The moon had come out from behind the clouds, and I could see his face but not much else. Still. from the space between his fingers, I deduced he’d brought me the totem.

  "Come on up," I offered. "I’ve got one cola left. We can share."

  "Share? You read my mind."

  "Relax, Slick, I’m talking soda here."

  "Spoilsport."

  I went back into the apartment smiling, but I forced myself to stop. It wouldn’t do either one of us any good if I encouraged him. He’d end up disappointed; I’d end up hurt.

  He was handsome, sexy, intelligent. I was average, socially inept, and… average. I’d made it through school; he was nearly a doctor. The professor and the cop—it sounded like a bad romance novel.

  Those differences aside, I wasn’t even going to address the white/red issue, which didn’t bother me but might bother him—or at least his family. There were very few pure Ojibwe left. If he was even one of them, I doubted his parents would appreciate him diluting the gene pool.

  I snorted and leaned down to snag the last soda from the refrigerator. We hadn’t even progressed to first names and I had us diluting the gene pool. I’d better put on some brakes before I went headlong off the cliff.

  Shutting the door, I turned, and an involuntary yelp escaped me. Cadotte stood in my living room.

  "How—" I glanced at the window, which was still open. The breeze ruffled the curtains. "I mean, what—?"

  He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Muscles flexed beneath smooth cinnamon skin. "You told me to come up."

  "Ever think of using the door?"

  "Why, when the window is so much closer?"

  "How did you get up here?"

  "Rock face. It wasn’t hard." He shoved away from the wall. "For anyone who’s done any climbing. You keep this locked, right?" He ran a fingertip along the glass.

  "Of course."

  He’d climbed up the side of the building like Spider-man? I found that hard to believe, yet here he was.

  Distracted, I handed him the can and stepped onto the porch. I leaned out over the railing, measured the distance to the ground—too much—then moved over to the wall and peered closely. The apartment building was made of stone. There were footholds of a sort, but you couldn’t talk me into climbing the thing.

  Of course my rock-climbing experience was limited to county fairs and a single day at the academy during training. There aren’t a heck of a lot of mountains to climb in Wisconsin. Hell, there aren’t any. What we like to call hills are a joke if you’ve ever been to Colorado, Montana, or even Tennessee.

  Cadotte followed me outside. Suddenly the night was no longer cool and the balcony no longer big enough. He stood between me and the door. The only way out was down.

  Though tall, he was lithe. Not muscle-bound, but muscular. Could I take him if I had to? I wasn’t sure.

  The not knowing made my breath come harder and faster.

  I inched closer to the door, into his personal space. If he was polite, he’d move away. He stayed right where he was. So did I.

  "I told you to call me." I offered my hand, palm up. "I’d have picked up the totem. You didn’t need to come out of your way."

  He stared at my hand but made no move to put the totem into it. Where had the thing gone, anyway? My gaze lowered to his pockets. The totem was too small to make much of a bulge. I didn’t see it. But there were other, more interesting bulges in the vicinity. I stiffened and yanked my eyes up to his.

  He was smiling. Damn. He’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything.

  He moved closer. I stepped back and cursed myself for the weakness. But I couldn’t help it. His skin gave off an intense heat. I could smell him despite the pines and the flowers and the fresh plastic aroma of my chairs. That wild scent I’d noticed last night—not unappealing, but rather arousing.

  I hit the railing. I couldn’t go any farther. Thankfully Cadotte stopped, still too close, but at least he wasn’t touching me. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if he put those long-fingered, clever hands on me.

  "If I’d let you come to get the totem, then I’d never have seen your place. I doubt you’d have invited me here."

  I frowned as a thought I should have had earlier, if I hadn’t been thinking about sex, shot through my brain. "How did you know where I live?"

  "It’s not hard to find out in a town like this."

  True enough.

  "Besides." He reached out and brushed one of those enticing fingers back and forth over the short ends of my hair. "I wanted to see you again."

  The shudder that rippled through me at his touch halted immediately at his words.

  "What for?"

  He dropped his arm. I figured he’d step back, finally let me pass, then tell me he had unpaid parking tickets or a bogus warrant hanging over his head—they were always bogus—or some other legal problem that made him want to see me. You know, the usual.

  I was preparing my standard "sorry, can’t help you" speech when his descending hand cupped my hip. I had no time to say anything, because he yanked my body flush with his—he was a helluva lot stronger than he looked—and kissed me.

  Since my mouth had been half-open, ready to speak, his tongue slid right in. He didn’t waste time on niceties but went straight for the good stuff. I liked that in a man.

  The tip of his tongue did a hard slide up the center of mine, then teased at the end. He pulled me tighter against him, center to center, then rocked his hips forward. I nearly came right then. Deprivation will do that to a girl.

  Moaning, I tried to pull back, but not very hard. Especially when he did some fancy move with his other hand and my starched sheriff shirt popped open past my bra.

  Suddenly his mouth left mine and he lowered his head to my breasts. That clever tongue dipped into their center, in and out, as he echoed the motion with his hips.

  My body was on fire. My mind a complete mess. It wouldn’t take much to convince me to do it right here on the Formica table. I didn’t think we’d make it inside.

  My arms rose of their own accord, fingers tangling in his hair, so soft, so sleek. I ran my palm over his head, petting him, then urging him on. His mouth closed over my nipple, through the bra, and lightly he bit the tip. I arched, pressing my entire body into his, and that one small movement shoved me over the edge.

  From far, far away drifted a low, mournful howl. In the middle of the first orgasm I’d had in several years, the sound confused me. Coyote? Wolf? Human?

  Cadotte tensed, lifted his head
, and stared past my shoulder into the night. The chill wind brushed my bare skin, iced the moisture left by his mouth. His body was still pressed to mine, but I no longer felt warm.

  He pulled his gaze from the trees with obvious effort. His face gentled and he buttoned my blouse up to my throat. I certainly wasn’t capable of doing it.

  He lowered his forehead to mine and whispered, "That."

  "Huh?"

  Typical me, grace under fire.

  "You asked why I wanted to see you." He kissed my eyebrow. Heat flooded through me, chasing away the chill.

  Since when had my eyebrow become an erogenous zone? Apparently today.

  "For that."

  "You wanted to see me for that?" I repeated, not sure what that was. A kiss, a dry hump, a thwarted fuck on the balcony?

  "Yes. You have a problem with it?"

  At the moment I couldn’t find a single problem with the world, but I would. Such was my nature. I shook my head, unable to articulate much of anything.

  "Good. I’ve got to go."

  He released me and headed for the front door. I must still have been dazed, or I’d have made a smart comment about jumping from the balcony. As it was, I followed him like a puppy, and when he pressed the totem into my hand, then folded my fingers around it, I merely held on tight and watched him leave.

  I never thought to ask him what he’d discovered about the markings.

  Chapter 11

  I should have driven out to my land and plunged my treacherous body into the chilly pond right then. To hell with the wolves. Though I’d been satisfied, embarrassingly so, I still felt empty, even achy. I knew why. I might have come and it had been great, but I hadn’t done what I really wanted to.

  Cadotte.

  Man, was I in trouble.

  Perhaps if I’d swum until I felt nothing but limp, I wouldn’t have been so distracted all night. However, I doubt anything could have erased his taste from my mouth and his image from my mind.

  I know that an hour’s worth of pacing did not get rid of the question: Why me? Cadotte certainly hadn’t been dazzled by my charm or my appearance. I wasn’t wealthy, brilliant, or hot. What was he up to?