Winter’s Wolf (9 page)

Matt pulled on gloves and picked through the detritus, dropping a few pieces into evidence bags. “It’s been awhile since there was anybody here, and they left in a hurry.”

Ollie nodded as he kicked at a cardboard box. “Based on the size of that generator, they must have had a big operation here.”

Winter leaned against the wall. “Or somebody wants you to think they did.”

Matt looked up. “You think it’s set up?”

“Yeah. I think what you see here is all there ever was.”

Ollie shook his head. “Bullshit. I think this was a big processing operation. Just the kind of thing Kubelik would do.”

Winter frowned. “Kubelik?”

Ollie huffed. “The drug lord.”

Winter shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Matt glanced at Ollie, then back at Winter. “Why do you think it’s a set up?”

“Drug labs leave a lot of material behind, ground into the floors and cracks in the walls. There ought to be a lingering smell. I don’t think any drugs were processed here.”

Matt totally agreed. “Interesting. Why do you think someone would go to all this trouble?”

“I don’t know. Deflect suspicion from the real operations? I’m no cop. I just know what I smell.”

Ollie grumbled, “Yeah, and I still think you’re wrong.”

Matt nosed around for another quarter hour, and everything he saw confirmed Winter’s suspicion. Like a good stage set, all the pieces of this scene had been assembled to look like drug processors had left in a hurry. Who wanted him to think the center of the drug activity was in the north of the state? “Shall we drive back tonight?”

Ollie’s eyes widened. “No. No. Don’t you want to check out the area? There could be clues in the woods around here.”

Matt nodded. “Since we’re here, I agree we ought to look around.”

Winter walked out of the building, and by the time Matt followed, he was disappearing into the undergrowth. “You leaving us, Thane?”

“Gonna look around. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Don’t get lost.”

Winter flashed those ice blue eyes. “Yeah. Right.” That quick, he was gone.

Ollie stayed on Matt’s heels for the next hour as they slogged through the dense foliage. A few booted footprints showed in the loamy soil, but they could be from hunters.

“Hey, Partridge.” Matt turned back to Ollie, who pointed to a spot on the ground. “Look.”

Half covered by dirt, a small plastic baggie lay under a bush. Matt hunkered down by it, gloved his hand, and picked it up gingerly. White powder clumped in the bottom of the plastic. Matt shoved it in an evidence bag.

Ollie watched over his shoulder. “Looks like somebody dropped it.”

“Yes. That’s what it looks like.”

“I’ll see if I can find more.” He sounded pretty enthusiastic as he scampered off into the brush.

Matt sat on a log and pulled out the packet again. He opened it with his gloved hands, sniffed, and put a little on his tongue. Heroin. No doubt about it.
Convenient.

Ollie rushed back to Matt. “I found one more. Want to come get it? I don’t have gloves.”

“Sure.”

The second baggie proved just like the first and got its own evidence bag. Matt straightened up and looked around. Light faded quickly at this time of year so far north. “Shall we head back?”

Ollie shook his head emphatically. “Too late. We need to stay the night.”

Shit, do not get excited about that idea.
“So what are we doing about a place to sleep?”

“I figured since we all brought sleeping bags, we could stay here. That way we can nose around again in the morning.” He smiled. “There could be more of the heroin. See, I told you there were drug processors here.”

“How do you know it’s heroin?”

He raised his reddish brows. “I assumed.”

Matt stared at the lean, homely face. Who was telling the truth? Ollie or Winter? Maybe they both thought they were. “Okay. Let’s get our stuff from the car. We can pick up Thane’s.”

When they got to the SUV, Winter was leaning against the car. Matt nodded. “Ollie’s suggested we stay in the area tonight so we can look around more in the morning.”

Ollie had popped the lock on the car, and Winter didn’t respond. He just opened the hatch he was leaning against and pulled out his sleeping bag, then tossed Ollie’s and Matt’s to them. “There’s water this way.”

Ollie pulled a good-sized cooler from the trunk, and Matt picked up his sleeping bag. The marshal certainly came prepared to stay.

Matt turned and followed Winter.
Do not be staring at that tight butt in those jeans.
Trouble was, nobody could see where his eyes were as they walked single file, so he didn’t have embarrassment to curb his wandering gaze. His foot hit a root; he stumbled forward, tossed both sleeping bags, and landed smack on Winter’s back. Somehow the big man managed to spin around and catch him before they both went flying into the trees. “Gotcha.”

Heat spread up his cheeks. “Sorry. That was real sure-footed of me.”

Winter grinned but didn’t let him go. “You must have been distracted.”

Damn. Did the man have eyes in his ass? Matt forced himself to pull away from Winter’s grasp, but every handhold felt like it had been branded in heat.

“Yeah. I was just thinking about the heroin we found.”

Winter raised an eyebrow. “Heroin?”

“Yes. Two bags seem to have been dropped.” He glanced back at Ollie, and Winter followed his gaze. “Ollie found them.”

“I see. Are you sure it’s heroin?”

Matt screwed his mouth to the side. “FBI, remember?”

Winter’s gaze heated. “I can’t forget.”

Suddenly Matt was back in the woods behind the Way Station staring at Winter’s perfect cock. His lips opened; then he clamped them shut.

Winter blinked and started walking again.

Matt followed, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the ground. Did he smell water?

They emerged into a small clearing. Winter stopped. “The stream’s over there.” He pointed. “Probably better to stay here and avoid the bugs and larger critters that might come to drink at night. We can fill our canteens and bring water if we need it.”

Ollie set down the cooler with a huff. “I’ve got lots of water in here. Food too. Even brought some beer.”

Winter shook his head. “Man, you are prepared.”

Ollie started laying out his sleeping bag. “That’s my job.”

Matt laid out his own sleeping bag on top of a thin foam pad, mostly to have a place to sit. Ollie hummed the cowboy song he’d played six times on the way up while he sorted through the food. Winter just sat on the dirt and leaned against his bedroll.

Ollie tossed him a can. “Heads up.”

The only muscle that moved in Winter’s body was the hand that raised lightning fast and brought down that can like a cat grabbing a bird in flight. “Thanks.” He popped the top and took a long pull. Just watching those lips move had to be classified as porn. Matt dragged his eyes away.

Ollie chortled. “I figure we’re off duty, so we can suck back a cold one—or two.” He laughed. Ollie was probably going on forty, tall, wiry but muscular, and plain with sandy reddish hair that had a mind of its own. Maybe he was lonely and this night with the guys was his idea of a good time. He threw a beer to Matt, who opened it. The cold liquid burned both bitter and sweet going down—kind of like life.

Matt leaned back. “You have a family, Ollie?”

He kept pawing in the cooler. “Nah. Never met the right female, I guess.” He looked up with an odd expression. “Woman. Never met the right one.”

Matt smiled. “You’re young. Plenty of time.”

“Maybe. So what’ll it be? I’ve got turkey and ham sandwiches.”

Winter looked across the open space. “Any beef?”

“Sure thing. How about you, Matt?”

“Turkey will be fine.”

He delivered them each a sandwich, then returned to his seat and pulled out what looked like ham for himself. Winter ripped his neatly packaged sandwich apart, removed bread and tomato, and started loading the rare beef into his mouth.

Matt bit into his turkey. “Not big on carbs, are we?”

Winter just kept chewing.

The sun had just set, but the dense canopy of trees made it darker.

Winter lay back on the ground, stretching those long, long legs in front of him. Sweet Jesus, he was gorgeous. Matt pulled out his tablet and hotspot. Not much chance his case files would distract him from Winter’s thighs, but he had to try.

Ollie huffed a couple of times. Maybe he wanted to tell ghost stories or make s’mores, but he finally pulled out what, from the beeps and clicks, had to be a video game. Winter appeared to go to sleep. Finally Ollie crawled into his sleeping bag and, with much flipping and flopping, prepared to sleep too. Matt kept on reading, but his eyelids drooped.

Matt wasn’t sure how much time passed before Ollie suddenly ripped open his bag’s zipper. Matt started and opened his eyes a crack.

Ollie grabbed a beer from the cooler and gathered his bag. “Sorry, guys, too many rocks and mosquitoes. I can’t sleep. I’m gonna go bed down in the car. Anyone want to come too?”

Winter didn’t even crack an eyelid. Matt shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Sleep well.”

Matt watched him go.
No reason not to trust Ollie. Why don’t I?
He readjusted the handgun he’d tucked under the edge of his sleeping bag and lay down.

Ollie was one of those psychically noisy people who stirred the air even when he didn’t move or speak. Winter wasn’t. For minutes, all Matt could feel was Winter lying across the open space, but the quiet slipped up and his eyes closed.

E
YES
OPENED
.
What time is it?

Why am I awake?

Matt stared up into the black canopy of the trees, glimpsing a few brilliant stars beyond. He sat up. Though the darkness prevailed, a waxing moon shone through the branches, and Matt stared across the clearing.
No Winter. Gone.
How long had he been asleep? His watch said fifteen after midnight.
A while.
Where would Winter go? Back to the SUV? Hell, the guy said he lived outdoors for weeks on end. Sleeping in the open couldn’t bother him. Maybe he had gone back to the Quonset hut to look around—or leave more so-called evidence.

Matt stood and wiped some leaves off his jeans.
Do I really think Winter’s involved in the disappearance of the agent or the drug ring?
Winter hadn’t had to tell Matt he thought the evidence in the hut was planted. Why would he do that if he was involved? Maybe he’d lied and this place had been a large drug operation. Matt shook his head. Not likely.
Still, the guy’s smart. Can’t rule him out.

Matt stared back toward where they’d left the car. Maybe Winter got turned on by Ollie and went to get it on with him. A red-hot flash of jealousy ripped up Matt’s spine. Winter’d said Matt was gorgeous, which clearly meant he had no taste in men, so maybe Ollie was right up his alley.

Shit. No way. Not gonna happen.

Still, the image of that huge cock shoved deep into Ollie’s ass kept sneaking onto his mental screen. Should he walk back to the vehicle?
Hellfire.
If they were having sex, what the fuck business was it of his? He purposefully turned away from the path to the car and started trudging toward the water. That sounded good. Splash some on his face. Maybe soak his feet and get the fire out of his head. Getting a little too close to the full moon. Not thinking completely straight.

He rounded some dense undergrowth and heard the sound of the stream ahead. Winter had said there could be animals, so he felt for the gun holstered at his waist under his sweater and walked more softly. Hell, maybe he should make noise and let them know he was here.

The roar of water got louder until ahead rushed a wide, fast-moving stream with trees clinging to its banks.
Pretty.
A little nearer, the reflection of the moon in the water glistened.

He stepped closer to the edge of the stream—and stopped, body and heart. Quickly, he ducked behind a bush, then peeked around. A few yards downstream, the water stilled in a little inlet pool near the bank. In the water stood Winter, face raised to the shining sky, wide shoulders and chest bare and glistening. He scooped water in his hands and tossed it on his head and face, then went back for more, like a child playing in a swimming pool. A very tall, very beautiful child with a chest carved from marble and moonlight.

Can’t breathe.
Matt’s eyes glued to the glistening line where the sparkling water met the shining, pale silver of Winter’s body.
If he’d just walk forward a step or two.
Instead, Winter plunged in headfirst like a dolphin, giving Matt a glimpse of a bewitching sliver of ass. Round, hard. For a second he disappeared, then leaped up, spewing water from his mouth and—hah!—his long, hard, very erect cock peeked above the water, then vanished.
Damn.

Matt’s own dick pressed so hard against his jeans he should have fabric burns. Slowly, he lowered his fly, reached in, and freed the prisoner from its cell.
Oh yeah.
He gripped it and held on like he was controlling a bucking bronco.

Winter took one step forward toward the shore. Another. Oh yes. Two inches of cock posed above the waterline. Another step. Good Lord, Matt had forgotten how perfect that thing was. Then, with his head thrown back and wet hair hanging on his shoulders, Winter took hold of his balls and raised the heavy package, pulled the skin with his other hand until it stretched out taut, then let them fall. The shaft must have whined for attention, because he took hold of the thing and began to stroke, hand over hand—hard.

Oh shit.
Matt grabbed his own cock harder and matched Winter’s rhythm. Yes. Every pull sent shocks of pleasure from his balls straight up his back and into his brain. This wasn’t like masturbation. Far more intimate. Winter increased speed. The water covered the sound of Winter’s breath, but Matt could sure as hell hear his own, gasping and moaning. Could Winter hear him? Shit, he didn’t care. Eyes glued to Winter’s flying hands, Matt jerked and pulled, heat flaming through him until his knees gave way completely and he landed hard in the dirt, still pumping his cock until the thing exploded like an incendiary device, spewing cum all over the bushes.