Close To Danger (Westen #4)(34)

Tobias leaned back in his chair. “How are you going to do that with the roads impassable in the outskirts of the county?”

“Same way Harriett got into work.” Gage grinned at the image of the older lady making her way to work as he left the office to head to the meeting. “Snowmobile.”



*



The buzzing of his smartwatch alarm woke him. He hit the button and squinted at the message flashing for his attention.

All courts closed due to inclement weather. Office closed through Thursday.

He swiped the screen to bring up the time function. Nine.

Shit. He’d fallen asleep.

Had she come home and found him? Were police on their way?

Panic hit him and he struggled to untangle his arms and legs from the quilts and blankets he’d wrapped around himself in the cold of the night. Sitting with his legs over the side of the bed, he froze and clenched the linens in his gloved hands. He heaved in some air, forcing himself to stay still and listen. At first the drumming of the pulse in his head sounded like someone pounding on the door. Slowly, with each breath, the pounding dimmed. Nothing but the whirring of the furnace broke the almost eerie silence of the condo.

Careful not to make any noise, he walked through her home—past the mess he’d made when he’d trashed it in his frenzy to punish her last night. Collecting his spray paint cans, he hurried out of the apartment and downstairs to the front entrance. He opened the door to find the world had been transformed into an arctic winter wonderland.

Once again, eerie silence greeted him. Nothing moved. No cars. No people. Ice covered all the trees and hung like long daggers from the branches and the edges of the houses’ gutters. Everything else was white. Snow lay on everything and judging from the height of it against the cars, at least half a foot had fallen during the night.

Most importantly, there were no footprints. Anywhere.

Which meant the whore had spent the night with the man from her office.

Laughter bubbled up inside him. He might be trapped inside her home, but no one was going to worry or wonder about him. All of Cincinnati was trapped somewhere.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Howling outside, penetrated the passionate fog in Chloe’s brain from the heated kiss.

“What was that?” she asked, pulling away and swinging her gaze towards the cabin door.

Wes released his hold on her, ran his hands through his hair and seemed to be measuring what his answer would be. “That would be W?den,” he finally said.

“And W?den is?” she left room for him to answer.

“The original W?den was the Old Saxon name for Odin and god of the hunt.”

The howling started again.

Chloe moved away from him. “That is not some fictitious mythological deity, Wes. It sounds like a wolf.”

“Techincally, he’s part wolf, part Siberian Husky,” he said, heading for the door where his coat hung. “At least I think it’s Husky. Might be some kind of shepherd.”

She moved in the opposite direction. “You have a pet wolf?”

“Wolf hybrid. And he’s not really my pet. Just a sometimes roommate,” he said as he opened the door.

“You’re not seriously going to let him in here?” She moved behind the overstuffed chair by the fire.

As the room chilled from the open door, a gray and white form emerged from the snow and onto the porch, where it shook and snow flew around him. W?den had the long snout and big head of a wolf. He stood in the doorway, his piercing blue eyes taking in the room, sniffing for a moment or two, then he carefully entered the cabin.

“Stay very still and let him get your scent,” Wes said in a calm voice as he closed the cabin door, making her wonder if he was trying to calm the wild animal in the room, or her.

The magnificent creature moved through the room to her side, once again sniffing her. Feet first, then up her leg to where her hand hung loosely. She forced herself to stay still, even when he lowered his ears and rubbed her fingers with his cold nose.

With a whimper, he turned and headed to the fireplace, curling up on the faded, Amish braid rug lying on the hearth and promptly closed his eyes.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe whispered. Her legs suddenly wobbly, she managed to move around to the front of the chair and plop down on it, the thick pillows letting her sink lower. “That didn’t just happen.”

“He likes you,” Wes said with a grin, coming to perch on the leather couch.

“I’m glad. I was afraid there for a moment, he’d decided my fingers would make a good snack.”

Wes chuckled. “Not to worry. He tends to like a little more meat in his meals. His appearance has just determined what we’ll be eating tonight, though.”

“And that would be?”

“Steak. Venison, actually.”

“Is that what you usually feed him?” she asked, watching the animal sleeping peacefully at her feet.

“He’s pretty easy. When he’s here, it’s usually because the weather is inclement like now. So, he’s happy with anything I serve him.”

“Then why venison tonight?”

“That’s what I gave him for the first meal he had here.” A flash of sadness crossed his features.

“How did he come to be here?”

“I found him making himself at home in a deer blind the first winter I was in town.”