Page 36 of Wolf Bound

He looked relieved. She smiled. “You’re my partner in training.”

“Maybe they’re scoping out a new kid to kidnap,” Fisher said. He sure hoped not.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” She pulled into the parking spot for their motel room.

The motel was two stories tall in the center, and then on either side, the building was one-story, brick and brown siding, very western appearance with wagon wheels between windows. “This is cute.”

“It looks like a nice place to stay. Love the western design.” He glanced at the five vehicles parked there.

“None of them are the kidnappers’ vehicle. Maybe they are scoping out the area, or off eating lunch somewhere. They don’t have a restaurant here,” she said. “The others will come and grab places as soon as we’re settled in so it doesn’t make Reggie and his cohorts suspicious if they see us arrive en mass.”

11

Kira was still shocked that Yuma Town was cougar run. She was thrilled because she was sure they would really be able to help them. She called Demetria to tell her where she and Fisher were going.

Demetria said, “Tanner, Brock, Shawn, and Aaron are in two vehicles. We’re nearly to the motel. Let Tanner know where we are.”

“I’m on it.”

Then Kira called Tanner and explained the situation. “If you can just drive around Yuma Town and look for any sign of the men’s SUV, that would really help. If you see them, let the rest of us know right away. Reserve a room at the Cougar Country Motel and we’ll all take turns watching the room they are staying in.”

“We will. Cougars, eh? Well, I’ll be damned. But that’s great news,” Tanner said.

Then Everett and Demetria pulled into the parking lot of the motel, and Kira inclined her head to them. They did the same to her and went inside the lobby to get a room.

Kira drove Fisher to the bakery to meet with Dan and loved how it was decorated for fall—scarecrows and pumpkins, colorful ornamental stalks of corn, and all kinds of desserts that were fall festival themed. She didn’t see any sheriff’s car so figured he would be there soon. “Let’s go in and have a cup of coffee and wait for the sheriff.”

They went inside and found an empty table. Patrons sat at three other tables, and they smiled at them as they walked inside. She smelled cougars in the building, and she was sure the cougars realized they were wolves. She breathed in the sweet treats offered for sale and the fragrance of different varieties of coffees brewing—maple, pumpkin spice, peppermint mocha, chocolate, salted caramel, candy cane, all smelling delightful.

“Oh, my, we’re so thrilled to have you join us here,” an older, platinum blond-haired woman said, smiling as she came out from behind a glass counter filled with baked goods—including pumpkin cream cheese-filled muffins, chocolate chip pumpkin bread, cranberry orange muffins and other goodies—to greet them. She wore light blue eye shadow that enhanced her pretty blue eyes. “I’m Florence Fitzgerald and I own the bakery.”

Kira and Fisher introduced themselves as they ordered lattes—hers a peppermint mocha and his, a pumpkin spice latte.

Florence went off to get their drinks.

A younger woman came out of the back and served up some bakery treats and hot drinks to the customers at one of the tables, and glanced at Kira and Fisher. She hurried over with her empty tray and said, “Oh, I’m Ava Kensington, and…you’re the wolves I envisioned coming here who are in trouble.”

Kira raised a brow.

“I’m psychic. Chet, my husband, works for the CSF and he’s going to be helping his fellow agents out with your case. My twin sister, Nina, is also psychic and she had the same premonition this morning. She’s married to Stryker Hill.”

“Stryker, the deputy sheriff?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Kira had never met anyone who was truly psychic. She wondered how Ava and Nina’s abilities worked.

Then three cars pulled up outside and parked. Six men got out of the cars.

“Unless I’m mistaken, that’s the cavalry,” Kira said.

None of the men were wearing uniforms, but she still suspected the sheriff and some of his men were coming in the door now.

“Sheriff,” Ms. Fitzgerald said, sounding a little surprised as she came out of the back with Kira and Fisher’s drinks. “Day off?” But then she glanced at the other men. “Oh…something bad is going down. How can I help?” She glanced at Kira and Fisher. “I’m a retired CIA operative.”

Kira’s jaw dropped.

Mrs. Fitzgerald smiled at her. She probably often got that response when she told someone what she had worked at.

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