Page 113 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

Talk later, I mouthed to him. I promise.

He paled, but let Clay drag him away, glancing back my way curiously before I tore myself away, forcing my feet into a slow, steady, I’m-not-creeping-around walk in the general direction of Charity’s cabin.

We’d originally planned to wait until a bit later in the night, but maybe it was better to get it over with now. By the look of Ryland and Sam, they could end the festivities any minute to retreat back to Ry’s cabin for an early evening delight.

And if I got it over with now, then I could make more of an appearance later when they did the formal ceremony—where my lack of attendance would be noted.

That would be in about thirty minutes. Plenty of time to search an office, cover my tracks, find Charity, and convince her to come back to the fire with me, right?

Right?

Oh god.

Wringing my hands in Sam’s sweater, I muttered hellos to a few shifters as they drunkenly stumbled past on their way to the fire and skirted around a cabin near Charity’s. I didn’t want to get too close to her cabin just yet.

The light was on, which meant she was definitely in there and I didn’t want her hearing me or scenting me until I was finished with what I needed to do. I paused behind a quiet cabin and sent a group text to Clay, Viv, and Layla.

Allie: Go time.

A text from Viv came in a fraction of a second later.

Vivian: Already? We just got here.

Clay: Better to get it over with before the ceremony. Go, Allie, we got you.

I made sure my phone was toggled to completely silent and slipped into Sam’s sweater, drawing up the hood with trembling fingers.

In and out, I reminded myself.

Easy.

Skirting around the backs of the cabins, I darted into the tree line, following it around camp at a distance far enough that no one would see me unless they looked closely, but close enough that I could see if anyone were to approach.

I jogged on quiet feet, aiming for patches of earth and avoiding piles of leaves and twigs as best I could.

I wasn’t concerned with leaving a trail, exactly— there were too many shifters here for anyone to decipher mine. I was more worried about making loud noises and alerting anyone to my presence as I came up behind Ryland’s cabin, creeping around the moon chamber and into his backyard.

The cabin was lit softly within, Ryland had obviously left a lamp on in the main living area. But the upstairs and eastern side of the house, where his office was, were left in total darkness.

Just like Clay had said there would be, a sliding patio door to the right side revealed a small kitchen I’d never been in.

And just like he’d said it would be, it was unlocked.

I sighed gratefully as the door rolled away silently, allowing me to step inside with barely a sound and seal the door shut behind myself.

With my heart a thunderous roar in my ears, it was almost impossible to hear anything else inside the cabin. I stayed like that for a minute in the darkened corner of the kitchen, waiting for my pulse to slow so I could make sure there was no one else inside.

Satisfied, I crept to the arched doorway of the kitchen and peered into the living space. Next to me was a staircase leading up into the second level, and across the living room was the hallway that would lead me to Ryland’s office.

The front door, mercifully, was closed. Whoever had used the restroom last must have shut it, and I sent whoever that person was my gratitude. Not wanting to waste time, I crept across the living room, nearly jumping out of my skin when I heard someone pass by near the front door.

I did exactly what I shouldn’t and froze like a goddamned deer in the headlights.

The creak and groan of the wood on the floorboards on Ryland’s front stoop faded a second later.

Distantly, I could hear Clay’s laugh, clearly forced, but whoever he’d used it on to get them away from the cabin, it’d worked.

Thank you, Clay.

Unstuck, I swallowed hard and continued across the living room, practically at a sprint now as I rushed down the hall, opened the office door, and tucked myself inside, shutting it behind myself with fumbling fingers.

I’d tried to slip the catch in quietly, turning the knob slowly, but it clicked like a gunshot in the dim office, and I stilled, grimacing as a layer of icy sweat slicked my chest.

Fuck. Maybe I should have let Clay do this.

Who was I kidding? I was not a damned ninja.

My anxiety couldn’t handle this shit. I pressed a palm to my chest, willing the fluttering sensation there to take a hike and blew out a breath, steeling myself with eyes squeezed tightly shut before I shoved off from the wall and rushed to the desk.

Eager to get this whole debacle over with so I could go back outside and take Jared up on that beer. Or five.

I rubbed my sweaty palms on Sam’s sweater, hoping to get as much of my scent off of my hands and as much of hers on me as I could. Chances were Sam had been in here already, right? I really hoped so, because if not, Ry may have some questions if he happened to scent her in his office.

Let’s just hope he didn’t have any reason to come in here before morning, when the scent would most likely have faded beyond recognition.

I touched things as little as I could, easing drawers open to rifle through papers and pens. There was almost an entire drawer of errant receipts and safety pins, none of which looked important, but several that I took note of just in case.

One in particular, a bill from the hardware store that listed tarps and lighter fluid as the only purchases seemed suspect, but he could have used those items for any number of run of the mill things here at camp.

I pocketed that one, anyway, thinking he wouldn’t miss it in the mess of a hundred others strewn in the deep drawer.

I checked the other three drawers, finding two to be filled with general office fare.

Staplers and a hole punch. A few rulers.

Pencils. An eraser. A pair of reading glasses I could never have pictured Ryland wearing.

A bottle of Advil. Two small bottles of whiskey.

One full, the other nearly empty. In the last, largest drawer on the bottom left were files.

Jackpot.

There had to be something in there he was hiding.

There were so many of them. I fingered through them, jumping at every creak and groan of the cabin to the point I was starting to worry if there actually was someone I was just going to wind up attributing the sound of them to Ryland’s rickety plumping clattering behind the drywall.

I went through each label twice but found nothing that seemed even remotely out of the ordinary.

I even took three files out just to see if their titles fit their contents.

They did. Purchase orders for lumber for the camp.

A generator manual and notes. A bunch of instructions on how to restart the solar system after a bad storm.

I didn’t even know there was a solar system.

The panels must’ve been on the back of Ry’s cabin for me to have missed them.

Groaning quietly, I tucked everything back where I’d found it, rolling the drawer shut with a solemn click. I checked the papers atop Ryland’s desk next, followed by the bookcase on the wall to the right, feeling behind the books that were pushed forward.

If I were a crazy person who killed a bunch of people I was supposed to care about, where would I hide evidence of that?

Apparently, not in my office it would seem.

I knew I was taking too long even before I got the text from Clay. My phone illuminated in my pocket, and I drew it out, my fingertips numb from nerves.

Clay: You’re taking too long.

I gripped the phone, pushing my screen to a point where it was near cracking, but I didn’t care. There had to be something here, right?

A person couldn’t just get away with everything Ryland had been accused of getting away with without leaving a shred of evidence behind.

Of course, there was a chance the rumors were just that—rumors—but my gut told me otherwise.

Allie: I need a few more minutes. Stall. Clay: Be quick.

There was no computer here, so that option was out, and I could see a cell phone charger plugged into the wall by the bookcase, but there was no phone attached, which meant Ryland must have had it with him.

Unless I was going to start ripping up floorboards, I’d already searched everywhere in the office. I bit my lower lip, letting my gaze sweep over the room one last time. I fixated on the ceiling, looking as though I could see through the wooden beams and plaster to the rooms above.

If I were a crazy person who had something to hide, would I hide it in my office? Or would I hide it somewhere more…private?

Say…my bedroom? Maybe?

A part of me knew I was grasping at straws at this point, but I was nothing if not thorough. Just a quick look, I promised myself.

Legs like putty, I crept from the office, pausing to listen for anyone outside. The music drowned out most every other sound, but even from here, I could hear Ryland’s laughter and someone shouting for more shots.

Perfect. Hopefully by the time the ceremony started everyone would be too drunk to even realize I was gone at all.

Armed with false reassurances, I took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor, grimacing as Ryland’s peppery scent grew.

It clogged the air, making me want to gag and sneeze in alternating intensities.

A familiar scent also permeated the air near the landing. It was clearly Sam’s. It was the scent of the sweater I wore magnified. Juniper and something tangy, like orange juice left out in the sun.

There was only a single room sized door, another, smaller door led to a linen closet after a cursory peek within. I followed the intermingled smells of Ryland and his new mate to the bedroom, nudging the already slightly ajar door open enough for me to slide inside.