The Wolves Come at Night by Ellison J. T

Author:Ellison, J. T. [Ellison, J. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, thriller, Suspense
ISBN: 9781948967518
Amazon: B0C1HV976M
Goodreads: 124964110
Publisher: Two Tales Press
Published: 2023-05-23T07:00:00+00:00

She paced until Simeon Chase sent her a text that he had the data ready. She sent him Lincoln’s way, knowing between the two of them, they’d find something worth looking at. Her gut was screaming at her. She was more than happy to listen.

That sorted, she pulled on her hiking boots and headed to Radnor Lake.

Maybe there was more to be found on the mountain.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The intense rains had left behind perfectly crisp fall weather—deep blue skies, low humidity, a tiny chill in the midday breeze. Yellow leaves littered the path. It was Taylor’s absolute favorite time of year, the moment summer’s back was broken and autumn paraded in. Summer seemed to last longer here in Nashville than it used to, well into September. Soon enough there would be cozy nights under blankets—though this year, their home’s coziness was going to be manufactured: the fire was gas, not roaring, chuckling wood, and the view didn’t encompass woods and deer, but soaring falcons and twinkling lights.

Quit it, she said silently, while rebelliously reveling in the woods surrounding her, taking deep breaths of fresh air as she climbed. You chose to move downtown. But at heart she was a country mouse—always had been. She missed nature, missed getting lost in the trees. If this wasn’t such a somber errand, she’d damn well enjoy it.

The dogs were all business, a soft-eyed brown Labrador and a Bernese mountain beauty that came up to her waist, and she was a tall woman, nearly six feet in socks. The Bernese was a sweetie; the Lab, too. They had hard work to do, depressing, difficult, though rewarding in its morbid way. Their handler, Donna Christie, was also gentle and kind. Taylor knew she was a big reader, and respected her love for both her books and her dogs.

Together they hiked beside Taylor and Marcus, gamely trudging up the mountain. The path was steep enough that everyone was breathing heavily when they emerged into the small clearing by the graveyard.

“Will the graves throw them off?” Taylor asked, and Donna shook her head.

“Chances are they’ll alert, you know they can pick up scents of bodies that have long since crumbled into dust. Did you know there are archeologists using dogs to search for ancient Egyptian tombs? Pretty incredible, if you ask me. I’d like to see it in action. So would the girls. Wouldn’t you, babies?”

The dogs woofed.

Marcus staked out a perimeter for them to follow, and Donna let the dogs nose around the graveyard for a few. Both dogs alerted, sitting, vibrating with repressed excitement, which wasn’t unexpected. Donna marked the spots, and then led the dogs to the northern perimeter, rubbed them on the chest, called “Search!” and unleashed them to do their jobs. She started back toward Taylor but was almost upended when the dogs rushed past her, right back to the graveyard, alerting again.

“Not there.” Donna led them back to the northern perimeter. They went straight back to the graves. The Bernese added a mournful whine to her alert bark.

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