The Shadows of Christmas Past

at the same time. "You said it was shot by the men in the van, but—"
    "Does the sheriff have any information about them yet?" Muller wanted to know. "Was the greyhound stolen?"
    Harry willed Marj to answer him first. He got the strong sense that she didn't want to talk about it at all.

chapter 5
    «  ^  » 
    Marj held up her hands, and said, "I don't know where to begin."

    The group around the table waited. She was intensely aware of Harry watching her, willing her to concentrate only on him. She fought off the almost overwhelming urge to do so and deliberately addressed Pat. "I'm fairly certain that she's a racing greyhound."
    "How can you tell?" Pat asked.
    "She's a gentle princess, but she doesn't have a lot of social skills."
    "Never been housebroken," Harry said.
    Marj nodded, without looking at the P.I. "And she has no concept of how to go up and down stairs. A track dog wouldn't know how to live in a house." She glanced over to where the greyhound lay, with Taffy resting beside her. "I figure she was stolen from a track, since the bastards cut her to remove all identification marks."
    "Why would anyone do that?" Alice asked.
    Marj shrugged. "I've made calls and sent e-mails, but I haven't heard back from anywhere about a missing racer yet."
    She rather hoped she didn't. She knew it was selfish of her, but Taffy and the black lady had bonded instantly. She hated the idea of her dog finding the love of his life, then losing her to the hard world of dog-racing tracks.
    "They had the dog and the wolf in the van, and the animals somehow got away," Pat surmised. "What do you think they were doing with a wolf, too?"
    "They were probably going to sell it," Harry spoke up. "Wolves might be endangered in places in the wild, but there's a huge trade in them as pets."
    Alice gasped. "You're kidding!"
    "He's right," Marj concurred. "People actually breed and sell wolves."
    "They're dangerous animals."
    "That's right, Alice," Harry answered. "And when people who buy wolf pups to raise as pets find out that their adorable puppy grows up wild at heart, things generally don't turn out well for the wolf."
    Marj heard his bitterness and absolutely agreed with it. "You know whereof you speak."
    His gaze caught hers. "I've done a lot of volunteer work with wolf rescue and rehabilitation at a wolf center in Colorado."
    "Really?"
    Marj tried hard to hide her sudden eagerness as an idea occurred to her. But she was sure he recognized that a lightbulb had gone off over her head, by the look in his eyes, and the slight smile that lifted the strong curve of his lips. That look also told her that whatever she wanted, it wouldn't come for free.
    Fair enough.
    She needed to talk to Harrison Blethyin, and she needed to talk to him alone.
    Marj stood, and said, "Alice, it looks like everyone's finished eating. Why don't we get on to the craft fair and raffle part of the evening?"

    "Wolves mate for life, you know."
    A chill went through Marj at Harry's words, followed by a swift, hot, confusing rush of longing.
    Mating for life. With who? Him? God, what a thought!
    She gave her head a swift, hard shake.
    He loomed above her, looking dangerous and unpredictable. There was a wild glint in his eyes. He'd unbuttoned his shirt collar, rolled up his sleeves, and a strand of black hair had fallen across his forehead, adding to the undomesticated look. He brushed it back with a quick, graceful gesture. For a moment she couldn't breathe, staring at his large, capable-looking hand.
    "What?" she finally asked. She could barely get out the word.
    Those eyes told her he was perfectly aware of her stunned, visceral, reaction to him, but he pointed behind where she sat. "And what are dogs but wolves that know they have a good thing? Those two are in love."
    She'd been playing with the basket of kittens set on the table before her, dangling a green Christmas ribbon for them to bat at. Now, she turned to look where Harry was pointing, knowing that she'd see Taffy and the greyhound lying side by side. The old black metal folding chair creaked as she moved.
    She'd let the dogs out of the big cage so that they could stretch their legs, and so that everyone could get a better look at the elegant greyhound. She had no trouble keeping them quietly well behaved. Being able to communicate with the animals was also calming for herself after spending several hours in the company of people.
    She just wasn't used to humans anymore. Being around the locals she'd