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THORN

Something beeped.

But it was far away, and I was dreaming that I was lying on a sandy beach enjoying the late afternoon sun and watching kids paddling at the water’s edge.

That annoying sound was disturbing my R&R, and parents holding their kids’ hands stared. A dog frolicking in the water ran out and shook himself all over me. A man building a sandcastle smashed it and waved his fist, saying the noise had ruined his enjoyment.

There was also a pair of dark eyes peering through the vegetation behind me. Dream me must have had eyes in the back of my head. I shivered at the gaze that pierced my mind and interpreted my thoughts.

I had to make it stop.

But in order to do so, I had to open my eyes. That was the plan. Waking at 4:30 AM and starting my day. I’d never achieve my goals if I lounged in bed a minute longer.

Turning off the alarm, I flung off the blanket and stomped into the bathroom. After a quick brushing of teeth and putting on deodorant and sunscreen, I got dressed in my workout clothes.

Today was a jogging day, so there was no need to drive to the gym.

It was still dark, but the sun would rise soon, so I put on my sunglasses and headphones, chose a podcast, and took off.

When I first put the plan into action, the one that would see me with my own office and enough savings to get a mortgage on a condo, I was amazed by how busy the streets were at this hour. Garbage collection, food deliveries, dog walkers, and people coming home from clubs were clogging the streets and sidewalks.

I wove around them and headed for the park a few blocks over. There were the regular joggers, some running clockwise like me, and there were also the anti-clockwise people.

Other than a brief smile at people who were here at least once a week, I concentrated on my podcast and running around the track. When I first started jogging regularly, I’d listened to business-related ones or motivational speakers but changed to comedies. For that one hour every day, I needed laughs, not someone telling me how to climb the ladder. I was doing it all and didn’t need another “to-do” to add to my list.

My tee was stuck to my back, sweat trickling down my spine and into my running shorts, when I left the park and jogged home. My muscles ached, but the endorphins the exercise released had me looking forward to the week.

It was after six when I emerged from the bathroom and got dressed. A quick coffee and leftovers from the night before and I was in the car and headed to the office. Usually I was the first one in and the security guard had to unlock the door. I wasn’t important enough to have my own key, but I soon would be.

I stepped into my office, if I could call it that. It was a refurbished broom closet. That was a slight exaggeration, but it used to be a janitor’s room until the janitor got upgraded. And lucky me was a recipient of said room slash closet.

It had no windows and a door that not only didn’t lock, but also didn’t close properly due to the wood warping. While I had to squeeze myself into the chair because there was little space between it and the desk, it was mine. And there were plans to upgrade as soon as I got the promotion I was in line for.

I had just ended an online meeting when the landline rang. It was the first time it had rung, as my coworkers communicated with email and messaging. I stared at it, the handset sitting atop the base and jiggling with each ring.

“Hello?” I assumed it would be a wrong number or a telemarketer, so when a voice on the other end barked out my name, I yanked the handset away from my head and stared at it.

“Is this Thorn Taylor?”

“Ummm…” I was wary about giving away any personal details, thinking perhaps the caller was a scammer.

“My name is Noah Whitmore, and I’m calling from Fraser and McDougall Law Office in Cougar Lake.”

There was so much to process in that one sentence. Cougar Lake? Was that a real place? Did cougars like to swim? I’d have to research that. I pictured them padding in the cold lake water and drying themselves off on the bank.

But my mind drifted back to the eyes from my dream. I shivered as goosebumps danced over my skin.

“Is this Thorn Taylor?” The voice pulled me back to the present.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure? You don’t sound certain.”

“No, this is he.” I sounded like my boss.

“Excellent. I have some sad news.”

My mind went to the cougars and hoped they were okay but braced myself in case they weren’t.

“Your uncle, Brett Taylor, passed away.”

“I don’t have an uncle Brett,” I blurted out.

There was a rustling of papers on the other end. “Your alpha father was Dylan Taylor, correct?” He rattled off my late father’s birth date and place of birth.

“Yes.” This had to be a scam, and I was about to tell the guy my next call would be to the police to report him. But I opened a new tab on my computer browser and googled his firm’s name. Up it popped, and the address was Cougar Lake. I clicked on the lawyers and there was a Noah Whitmore listed. But again, that didn’t prove that this guy was Noah.

“Noah, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” I fibbed. “I’ll call you back in thirty minutes.”

I ended the call before he could reply, but using my mobile phone, I texted my omega dad, asking about a Brett Taylor. My alpha father, Dylan, died when I was young.

Wondered when he’d resurface. We all thought he was dead or in jail . He was the black sheep of your father’s siblings. What did he want?

I studied Dad’s reply. Brett did exist and the law firm did too, but even so, Noah might’ve been a scammer who read obituaries and then swindled the family.

Brett is dead.

Dad replied with !!!!!!! and said he’d call this evening.

I did a search for Brett Taylor, but it was a common name and nothing much came up. Nothing in Cougar Lake.

I dialed the number listed for the firm, expecting to be connected to the real Noah Whitmore who had never heard of me.

“Thorn, glad you called back. Did you check out me and the firm?”

Ouch! I’d done my due diligence, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“I did, but I had no idea Brett existed.”

“He was a wily old so-and-so. Went by the name of Alexei Blaze here, though he never legally changed his name.” Noah rushed on to tell me I was the recipient of Brett’s will.

Alexei Blaze. My stomach sank, thinking a guy who lived under an assumed name might have had debts. I didn’t want them and wondered what the legal position would be.

“He left you his resort.”

Resort? To me a resort was by the beach surrounded by palm trees. But Cougar Lake was surrounded by mountains and nowhere near the ocean.

“Come again? Did you say resort?”

“Yes, it’s a mountain lodge. Very popular in the winter but is also over seventy percent occupied in the summer months. Your uncle had a big personality, and his charm was part of the reason why the place was so profitable. Or it had been until he got sick.”

“How did he die?” I hoped the cougars weren’t responsible.

“His heart. He loved food and alcohol and never monitored what he ate. Said life was too short to cut out fat and whiskey. So I’m hoping you can make it up here next week and sign the papers so we can get this wrapped up.”

“Just to be clear, I have been bequeathed a tiny mountain lodge.”

“Small, yes. There are ten rooms. Your uncle wasn’t one for delegating, and so when he got sick, he closed it, and now it’s just sitting there, sad and forlorn.But the sooner you get here the better.”

He made it sound like a real person.

But I had a job, a career, and a plan, and the plan didn’t include racing off to Cougar Lake and running a resort. I’d have to sell it.

“Tell me, Noah, why is it called Cougar Lake?”

There was silence at the other end. He cleared his throat. “There used to be cougars in the area and there were regular sightings of them. Not so much anymore.”

Man changing the environment and chasing out or eliminating animals’ habitats was disturbing but not unusual.

“My life doesn’t allow me to run a resort from afar, so I think it’s better if I sell.”

He agreed to send me the paperwork and gave me the name of a real estate agent who could sell the place.

I got off the phone, thinking about those cougars who’d inhabited the area around the lake and had been hunted or forced to look for somewhere new to live.

And those eyes from my dream appeared in my imagination.