Read Secret of the Wolf Online
Authors: Susan Krinard
anger. "Was it you who hit Andersen?" She grabbed Irene's arm. "Where is May?”
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"Gone!" Irene stretched her lips in a grotesque smile. "Gone to be with her father, and
you're too late!”
"Was it Bolkonsky? You know him, don't you? He told you to bring May to him while the
mob from town came after Quentin, didn't he?" She gave Irene a shake. "Tell me the
truth!”
"Yes, I know Feodor!" She laughed. "You always thought I stayed locked up here like
the others, because you never paid attention to me. You've always thought I was stupid,
didn't you? But I knew everything that went on in town. I went at night. I watched, and I
listened, and those country bumpkins never knew that the great Irene DuBois was
among them.”
Johanna let Irene go, stunned at her own blindness. The clues had all been there, had
she chosen to see them—Lewis's complaint about Irene's visits to town, her new gown,
her more frequent references to leaving the Haven, her unusual confidence. Johanna
had never guessed that Irene was so superb an actress. All the woman's dramatic
posturing had merely seemed evidence of her unyielding delusions
"I knew when the handsome Doctor Bolkonsky came to town," Irene said. "I had my eye
on him from the beginning. He was different, the kind of man I've been waiting for. I
knew when you went to see him, and that he'd never be interested in you.”
"Oh, Irene," Johanna whispered
.
"He's been in love with me ever since he saw me on Broadway. He told me all about
poor little May and what you were doing to keep her away from her father—the same
way you tried to keep me from my true destiny. He needed someone to tell him what
was going on here, and report to him. I agreed to help him get May away from you, and
he promised to take me to San Francisco and set me up on the stage, where I belong."
She tossed her head. "We just had to wait for the right time. You made it so easy—you,
and Quentin!”
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"It was Bolkonsky who sent the mob here, wasn't it? He stirred them up, and only
pretended to warn me—”
"As I said, you made it easy for us. The people in town were already upset when they
found Ketchum's body, especially after the attack on May's father. They were looking for
someone to blame. Feodor told them that he was afraid your new patient, Quentin, had
something to do with it. He was worried that you had lost control over your loonies.
People listened to him—he's a doctor, after all!" She laughed. "The rest took care of
itself. All I had to do was get May to come with me while you were busy. Quentin
brought her back just in time, but she wanted to follow him when he left. I told her I
could take her to him. Feodor's man was waiting for us outside.”
The third set of footprints. "Bolkonsky wasn't here?”
"He's coming to get me." Irene's eyes glazed over with visions of her glorious future. "All
the city will be at my feet, just like Feodor. You can't stop me now!”
Johanna followed her expectant gaze to the lane. Not for a instant did Johanna believe
that Bolkonsky intended to take Irene away. A man such as he would have no personal
interest in a haggard, aging actress. He'd merely used Irene as men had used her
before, to serve his own ends
.
Nothing about Bolkonsky was as it seemed. He'd deceived Johanna time and again—
put the residents of the Haven at risk—as a ploy to return May to her father. He'd given
her the news about the attack on Ingram, and planted the blame for Mr. Ketchum's
death on Quentin
.
Had Quentin been seen near Ketchum's body, or was that another of Bolkonsky's
fabrications? Why was Bolkonsky so dedicated to Ingram's cause? Was it money, or
something else she couldn't begin to imagine?
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Putting such speculation from her mind, Johanna followed the male footprints as they
crossed the orchard and continued on toward the wood
.
"You won't find her," Irene shouted after her. "You've lost Quentin, too. You've failed,
Johanna!”
Her triumphant words nipped at Johanna's heels, stinging with every step. Irene
assumed she'd give up. Would Bolkonsky, and May's father, assume the same? Ingram
had his business in San Francisco. He'd take May there, secure in his power
.
Yet Bolkonsky had carefully avoided bringing in the authorities at any time in their
dealings, preferring the use of subterfuge to steal May from the Haven. There must be a
reason. Perhaps May's father had wanted certain secrets out of the public eye
.
Secrets Johanna might attempt to expose, at the risk of her own professional
destruction. But hadn't she already compromised her vocation, possibly beyond
mending?
She passed out of the orchard and into the wild groves of oak and madrona. Her eyes
caught a sudden change in the earth, and she stopped
.
The ground was trampled here, marked by some struggle, and the man's footprints
formed a mad pattern intermingled with the spoor of a wolf
.
This was where Quentin had gone, after chasing the mob away. He'd followed May's
captor, and caught up with him
.
But where were they?
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Johanna knelt to study the tracks. May's footprints had also reappeared, as if her captor
had set her down after carrying her for some distance. Johanna found a final set of
prints, almost lost amid the others
.
Those of a barefoot man, about Quentin's size
.
Leaves rattled a few feet away. Johanna scooted about to face the sound. A man's
blunt-fingered hand reached out from a cluster of bushes, to the accompaniment of a
hoarse groan
.
Johanna pushed aside branches. The man was a stranger, a big, nasty-looking
character with a scarred face and shoes that matched the prints of May's kidnapper.
Aside from a few scratches, he seemed unharmed, though he was just recovering
consciousness. Johanna had no pity to spare for him
.
"Where is May?" she demanded
.
"Wolf," he muttered. His eyes opened, bloodshot and terrified. "Devil!”
She grabbed his shoulders. "Who took May?”
"Th' devil man!" He covered his eyes like a child hiding from a nightmare. "He'll kill me.”
"Only if I do not." She tightened her grip. "Bolkonsky hired you to take May from the
Haven, didn't he?”
"He'll
kill me.”
Did he mean Bolkonsky or Quentin?
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"You were to deliver May to Bolkonsky, weren't you?" she asked. "Where were you to
meet him?”
"Let me.”
She looked up to find Harper behind her, his ordinarily mild eyes glittering with a
dangerous light. He crouched over the man, long fingers working
.
"You answer the lady now, or I'll go get my friend the wolf and let him play with you,"
Harper said in a cold, flat voice. "Where were you taking the girl?”
The kidnapper's eyes went wide as saucers. "The
the old Miller ruin by Ritchey
Creek." He snatched at Johanna's hands. "Please, don't let the demon get me!" He fell
to whimpering gibberish about wolf-devils and repenting his sins. "If I tell you who really
killed Ketchum, can I be saved?”
"Tell us," Johanna demanded
.
"It was on Bolkonsky's orders. I didn't do it, I swear! I only lured him where
" He
gulped. "We was supposed to tell everyone that your man killed him. I'll testify that it
wasn't him, I swear I will!”
Johanna pried his fingers from her wrists and gave silent thanks. Whatever Fenris might
have done in the past, he hadn't taken the mine owner's life
.
She drew Harper aside. "Everything is all right back at the house?”
"As right as it can be. Mrs. Daugherty is staying with the others.”
"Did you see Irene?”
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"She was crying, over by the orchard.”
Had she begun to realize that Bolkonsky would not be coming? "She has been meeting
Bolkonsky without my knowledge. Since I opposed returning May to her father,
Bolkonsky planned this clandestine abduction. Irene brought May out of the house while
we were occupied with the mob, so that this man could take her. He didn't succeed, but
May is still missing.”
Harper met her gaze with perfect comprehension. "Quentin was here. You think he took
her?”
"I don't know." She clasped her hands over her roiling stomach. "It is a possibility.”
"He would have taken her to protect her from this Bolkonsky.”
Quentin would have. But Quentin would also contact Johanna to let her know that May
was safe. How long would it take Bolkonsky or May's father to seek the help of the law?
Brush crackled and twigs snapped. May's would-be kidnapper had stumbled to his feet
and was making a clumsy attempt at escape. Harper started toward him, but Johanna
held him back
.
"Let him go. He's too frightened to be a further threat, and we haven't time to deal with
him now.”
Harper frowned after the man until he was out of sight, then glanced at the ground at
Johanna's feet. "Is that May's book?”
She bent to pick up the book she'd set down when she examined the footprints. The
pages were creased and soiled. "She must have taken it with her when Irene lured her
outside.”
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"May I have it?”
She handed it to Harper. He stroked the dirt-stained cover with reverent fingers, and
she remembered his claims of reading men's pasts and futures in everyday objects
.
If he thought that he could use some inborn magical power to help her locate May, she
was not prepared to discourage him. Desperate circumstances called for desperate
measures. And until this very morning, she had not believed in the existence of genuine
lycanthropes
.
Nor had she believed that she could falter in all her fine aspirations, all her high
standards, all her confidence in logic and reason and her own well-trained abilities
.
But she had
.
"I must talk to Mrs. Daugherty," she said, trying to fill the terrifying void in her heart with
words and plans. "She can go into town and listen for news. I'll ride to the place where
Bolkonsky was to collect May. There is a chance he is still waiting. I may learn
something of value.”
"You shouldn't go alone." Harper shortened his stride to match hers as they walked
briskly back toward the house. Irene had disappeared from the orchard
.
"There is no time for argument," Johanna said. "It is much to ask, but if you can take
care of my father and Oscar I will be deeply obliged to you. I will show you what my
father requires. Lewis should be no trouble. As for Irene—”
"I'll keep an eye on her," he said. "When I find her, I'll put her in her room and keep her
there.”
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"Thank you." She paused just beyond the back door to clasp his hand. "You are a good
man, Harper.”
"Without you and Quentin, I wouldn't be a man at all.”
He squeezed her hand and let it fall. "Tell me what I need to do.”
Within an hour she had laid out the bare bones of the situation to a fretful Mrs.
Daugherty, including an account of the bizarre appearance of a wolf, and asked her to
take the buggy into town to glean any news or gossip about Dr. Bolkonsky, May's father,
or the aftermath of the siege on the Haven. Whatever the people of Silverado Springs
might think of Johanna and the Haven's residents, they wouldn't hold Mrs. Daugherty
accountable
.
While Harper went in search of Irene, Johanna told Oscar that May had gone away for a
little while, and that he mustn't worry. Lewis was in his room, but responded to her brief
explanation with peculiar blankness
.
She hadn't time to do more with him. She took Lewis's gun from her office, kissed her
father on the forehead, and asked for Oscar's help in saddling Daisy
.
The mare carried her at a willing canter to the meeting place Bolkonsky's henchman
had described, but it was deserted. If Bolkonsky had been waiting, he'd either given up