They chased after her, but when they reached a snow-covered dirt road, they witnessed a blue truck taking off, the windows so tinted that they couldn’t see the driver. But this time CJ got the license plate number and smiled a little.

Chapter 20

As soon as CJ ran the license plate number and got the name of the vehicle’s owner, CJ and Laurel headed for Green Valley, where Ryan McKinley and Carol, his mate, ran the wolf pack. Green Valley wasn’t wolf run, but Ryan and Carol were working on that, modeling it after Silver Town. When CJ learned who the truck belonged to, he called Ryan, putting the call on speakerphone so that Laurel could hear everything that was being said as they drove to Green Valley. Ryan was a private investigator, so he could help them clear this matter up if they couldn’t on their own.

“Okay, so you’re saying the sweet little lady who owns the local candy shop, Pamela Houser, has been running through your territory as a white wolf? Yes, she’s white. Not Arctic though. I don’t understand the trouble,” Ryan said.

Good leaders stuck up for their pack members, and CJ expected as much from Ryan. “She’s been hanging around an area where we found a skeleton—a male who fell through a deadfall. We want to question her to see if she knows anything about Warren and Charity Wernicke’s disappearances while they were operating the Silver Town Inn. Can you hold her there for questioning? We’ve got a lot of unanswered questions, including some concerning the disappearance of Clarinda O’Brien, aunt of the MacTire sisters who now run the hotel.”

“Will do. Call you back as soon as I have confirmation. We’ll meet at my house. She really is the sweetest woman.”

“Thanks, Ryan. We owe you big-time on this.”

“You’re welcome. Anything we can do to help.”

When they arrived at the McKinleys’ house, Ryan’s sister, Rosalind, invited them inside. Lavender candles on the spruce-decorated mantel scented the air as a warm fire glowed.

“Would you like some peppermint mocha?” Rosalind asked, smiling cheerily.

“We don’t want to put you out any,” CJ said at the same instant that Laurel said, “I’d love it.”

He smiled at Laurel, glad she was not overly anxious about this. Or, maybe she was and this was a way for her to relax a little.

Rosalind asked CJ, “Are you sure? It’s as easy to fix one as it is two.”

“Sure, thanks.”

CJ and Laurel took a seat on the blue-and-white couch and waited for Ryan to arrive with Pamela.

His mate, Carol, was at the clinic working as a nurse. Rosalind brought them cups of peppermint mocha decorated with red, white, and green candy canes while they waited. “They’ll be here shortly,” Rosalind said, looking concerned. She motioned to the greenhouse out back. “I’ve got some orders to deliver, if you don’t mind me running off.”

“No, go ahead,” Laurel said, then took a sip of her drink. “And thanks so much for the peppermint mocha. It’s delicious.”

“You’re so welcome. Season’s been busy. Have to deliver some more poinsettias.” Then Rosalind grabbed a coat and gloves and disappeared out back.

CJ took Laurel’s hand in his, but it was ice cold. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, assuming she was nervous about what they’d learn.

She studied the tree near the fireplace, decorated in huge bows, with a red wood-beaded garland, blue and white ornaments, and sparkly blue lights.

“You don’t have a Christmas tree up in your house,” she suddenly said.

Given the circumstances, he was surprised when Laurel brought it up, but he was glad she was thinking about happier subjects. “Um, no. It seemed kind of silly to put one up just for me.”

“We’ll have to put one up now.”

He smiled. “Sure. I’d love to.” Anything to please his mate. He hadn’t even thought about waking up with her on Christmas morning. He knew just what he was going to get her for Christmas though.

She kept drawing in deep breaths, and he squeezed her against his body with reassurance. “It’ll be all right.”

“Right.”

But he knew it wasn’t really. He was trying to be her rock, but he was just as worried about what they’d learn.

As soon as they heard Ryan unlocking the door, CJ stood. Laurel remained seated on the couch. Ryan entered with a spry, white-haired woman, her hair done up in a bun, her blue eyes taking in Laurel and CJ. She looked stern, probably just as anxious to get this over with.

CJ hurried to welcome her, his hand outstretched, wanting to put her at ease. Her hand was as cold as Laurel’s had been.

“Did you want something to drink?” Ryan asked Pamela.

“No, thank you.”

“Unless you need me for anything, I’ll be in my office working on some business,” Ryan said, also trying to put everyone at ease.

“Sure, thanks. We’re fine.” CJ was glad the McKinleys were letting them handle this on their own. CJ took a whiff, trying to smell the woman’s scent. She-wolf and sweet, as if she’d been working in a candy shop—vanilla, sugar, maple, oranges.

“Pamela? I’m Laurel MacTire,” Laurel said as the woman took a seat on a blue-and-white floral chair perpendicular to the couch.

CJ rejoined Laurel and sat as close as he had before, bodies touching to show her he supported her totally.

For a long moment, the woman just considered Laurel. Then she finally said, “Yes.” But her voice hitched and her eyes filled with tears. Her spine was tense, her knuckles white as she fisted her hands in her lap.

“Pamela Houser isn’t your real name, is it?” Laurel asked, her words gentle as if she was trying to coax the truth out of the woman.

CJ hadn’t thought that. More that the older woman knew the man in the pit and had been close to him.

The woman didn’t say anything, but her jaw tightened.

“You’re…you’re Warren Wernicke’s sister, Charity, aren’t you?”

A couple of tears rolled down the woman’s cheeks. Her lips were pinched, and she nodded.

“We found his skeleton in the pit where I fell, didn’t we?” CJ asked, needing verification that the remains were those of Warren Wernicke.

“Yes,” she said so softly that if he hadn’t had wolf hearing, he might not have heard her response. “I’m…Charity. Though Warren called me Chair for short. But he was the only one who called me by that term of endearment.”

“Your brother, Warren,” Laurel said, getting clarification.

The older woman nodded and looked down at the floor.

“How did he end up in the pit?” CJ asked.

She shook her head.

“You don’t know?” Laurel asked.

“No.” Again, the word was spoken so softly that it was hard to hear. He thought she was telling the truth.

Laurel took the discussion in a different direction. “My aunt Clarinda was living with you in the house behind the Silver Town Inn, wasn’t she?”

CJ understood Laurel’s need to learn about her aunt, though he still wanted to know if Charity knew anything more about her brother’s death.

The woman’s face was already tight with emotion and grew even more so at the mention of Clarinda’s name. “She was living off my brother’s generosity and seeing another wolf. That’s what she was doing.”

Laurel clenched her teeth a little but didn’t say a word.

“Who was the other wolf?” CJ took hold of Laurel’s hand. He wanted to give her support, but not treat her like she couldn’t deal with this on her own. Yet, anything the woman said could be untrue. After all, she’d been living under a false identity. Then again, some wolves changed their identities because of the trouble with their longevity and humans growing suspicious of someone who didn’t age as quickly as they did.

“How do I know?” Charity sounded annoyed.

Laurel stiffened a little beside him. “You knew she was seeing another wolf, you said,” she reminded her.

“My brother was so angry with her. He knew she was seeing someone else. But he wouldn’t say who.”