Page 8 of Rescued

The latch isn’t torn or broken. If the wolf had gone out through the window, he would have ripped the screen right off the frame, and the noise would’ve woken me. I would’ve heard something—anything.

Wouldn’t I?

My breath comes in short, ragged bursts as I race outside, my bare feet slapping against the dirt. The house doors are still closed, the locks untouched. Not that I lock them much anyway, but it’s not like the wolf could’ve opened them.

Thumbs are kind of necessary for that.

Desperation makes the air catch in my lungs as I check the garage, the kennels, every inch of the property where the wolf might’ve gone.

But there’s nothing.

No tracks, no fur, no sign he was ever here.

I drop onto the porch steps, my knees weak as I bury my face in my hands. Something vital feels missing, a strange hollowness gnawing at me like a hunger I can’t satisfy.

Tears prick my eyes, and I clench my fists, angry at myself for the reaction. I need to stop acting like this, damn it. I don’t cry, especially not over things I can’t control.

But then icy fear floods my veins.

What if Kaufman came here while I was sleeping? The sheriff wouldn’t have taken the wolf alive—that much I know. If Kaufman had been involved, there’d be nothing left of the animal to find.

It doesn’t seem likely, but it’s the only explanation I can think of.

Swallowing hard, I push myself to my feet and head inside, my hands already reaching for my phone.

I need to call Todd.

“‘Lo?” Todd’s groggy voice comes through the phone, and I immediately smack my hand against my forehead. Of course, he’s tired. He’s working second shift. I should’ve remembered that before calling. Not that it would have stopped me—I need answers—but still.

“Todd, hey,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry to wake you, man. There’s a problem here.”

I close my eyes, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my head. A low rustling sound comes through the phone as Todd clears his throat.

“What’s up, Gabe?” His voice sharpens, the grogginess disappearing as he shifts into alert mode. It’s one of the things I admire about Todd—he can go from half asleep to fully switched on in seconds.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to speak clearly. “I woke up this morning, and the wolf…is gone.”

There’s a beat of silence before Todd responds, and I launch into an explanation of the morning’s events. I recount everything as best I can, from finding the IV line on the floor to the open window screen. Todd interrupts now and then with questions, his tone thoughtful, but most of the time, he lets me ramble. By the time I finish, both of us are quiet, turning over the situation in our heads.

Finally, Todd speaks. “I’m guessing you’re wondering if Kaufman had anything to do with this?”

The idea had been gnawing at me since I noticed the wolf was gone, but hearing Todd say it out loud makes my stomach churn. “I don’t know what to think, Todd,” I admit. “It doesn’t seem cruel enough to be him, but…shit, can you think of anything else?”

Todd exhales, the sound crackling faintly through the phone. “You’re right—it’s not Kaufman’s style. He’d make a mess of it, leave some kind of calling card just to piss you off. Still, it’s weird. If the sheriff was involved, he’d need help to take the wolf. You saw how much work it took for us to get him into your truck. He wasn’t moving on his own yesterday.”

I nod, even though Todd can’t see me. The image of the sheriff hauling the wolf away doesn’t quite fit.But if not Kaufman, then who?

Something cold runs down my spine as a fleeting image flashes in my mind—the wolf standing on two legs, opening the door with an eerie, human-like precision before walking out into the night.

No. That’s ridiculous.

Shaking the thought away, I pinch the bridge of my nose and focus. “There had to be some way the wolf got out,” I say finally. “Maybe he swiped at the door handle just right and got it to turn. Or…” I hesitate, the absurdity of my next words making me wince. “Maybe he turned it with his mouth. I’ve seen that happen on TV.”

Todd snorts softly, but his tone stays neutral. “Did you check for tracks outside?”

“I didn’t see anything,” I admit. “But I’m not exactly an expert tracker. If he stayed on the grass, I probably wouldn’t be able to find any prints.”

“Still, it’s worth considering,” Todd says. “Wolves are smart. You saw the way he looked at you yesterday—there’s something going on behind those eyes. If he figured out how to open a door, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

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