Hannah Alexander - Double Blind

“How did the summer sessions pay off with the team?”

“Trophies in every category.”

“Congratulations. I know that isn’t unusual for you, though,” she said.

He nodded his acceptance of her approval. “Let’s bring in your things, and then I’ll get that tire taken care of for you.”

He strode out ahead of her toward the Jeep.

She hesitated, glancing around the apartment, then through the window out across the plain. The gap was breached. After an agonizing time of alternating dread and expectancy, she had arrived.

This was the last place on earth she wanted to be.

Canaan and Tanya were about a half mile from the turn to the school when Tanya gasped and reached across the seat to grab his sleeve.

“Canaan, look!”

She leaned forward, lips parted. She slapped her hand against the windshield in the direction of a white-and-blood-red mound of fur at the right side of the road ahead of them.

Canaan stepped on the brake. A dog.

Tanya grabbed his arm again, her short nails digging into his flesh as the van rolled to a stop.

“It’s Moonlight!” Her voice rose to a screeching crescendo. “It’s our Moonlight!” She clawed at the latch, scrambling to get out.

“Tanya, wait.” Canaan shoved the gearshift into Park and reached for the girl’s arm. “A wounded animal is dangerous.”

“She’s not hurt, she’s dead! Look at the blood.” Tanya’s face crumpled. She jerked away from Canaan and jumped out onto the pavement.

Before he could get out of the van, she’d reached the dog and dropped to her knees. Sobs shook her body. With dismay, Canaan recognized Moonlight, the white animal that had wandered onto the school grounds a week or so ago and been adopted by the children, who had attempted to keep it a secret from the adults—no pets were allowed on school property.

The big dog’s eyes stared, sightless. But she hadn’t been dead long; Canaan caught a whiff of the faint coppery odor of blood and saw that flies had not yet begun to gather.

He bent down, took Tanya by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She whirled around and buried her face in his stomach.

“The wolf killed her, Canaan!” Her voice was muffled against his T-shirt. “He was jealous of her and he killed her.”

Canaan held her, feeling more and more uneasy at the way Tanya spoke about the wolf. “Moonlight has obviously been hit by a car, Tanya. You can see that.” And since he could see no black tire marks on the pavement, it looked as if whoever hit her didn’t even try to stop. In fact, it looked as if someone might have intentionally swerved onto the soft sand shoulder to reach the dog. Anger warmed Canaan’s face.

Tanya raised her head, her stare accusing. Sniffing hard, she stepped away from him, as if she resented his logic.

Canaan turned and followed her back to the van. He would have to break the news to the other children as soon as they reached the school. They would be as devastated as Tanya.

What a bad scene for Sheila to witness when she arrived here. Especially in light of the difficulties she’d had here just before she and her father moved away. Maybe the whole thing could be handled before she arrived.

“You should keep the wolf talk to yourself, Tanya,” he warned. “Others, especially the older people, won’t want to hear it.”

“But why not?”

“Because some of the old ways still linger. Our people don’t talk about the wolf to others, because they believe anyone could be the wolf.”

Tanya shot him a look of alarm.

He smiled. “I’m not trying to scare you, I’m just trying to let you know how others might react.”

“But you’re right, it could be anyone,” she whispered, her wide-eyed gaze aiming toward the school. “And I don’t know who.”

S heila and Doc Cottonwood set her two suitcases in the bedroom just as the crunch of tires on gravel reached them from outside.

“That must be Canaan and Tanya now,” Doc said, leading the way back out the door. “Might as well start meeting the kids. Tanya’s probably going to be your first challenge.”

“Why is that?”

“She likes her way. She’s a drama queen. Her parents spoil her when they’re with her, and she’s good friends with the Hunt children, so she’s annoyingly emotional right now.”

In spite of the abrasiveness of his words, Sheila thought she picked up on some concern in his voice. “Is she having a lot of trouble with Tad and Wendy’s deaths?”

He nodded as he led the way back out of the apartment. “You’ll see what I mean when you meet her.”

Sheila took the sidewalk, curious about what Canaan York would look like all grown-up.

She recognized him immediately, of course. As a child, he’d been small for his age. Now, as he climbed from the van he’d parked beside her Jeep, he straightened to a height well over six feet, long and lean, dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt…and a green baseball cap.

He’d always worn a baseball cap.

His skin was well tanned, bare arms muscled, his eyes dark, watchful. He met Sheila’s gaze for a bare second before the young girl, Tanya, exploded from the passenger side of the van.

“It’s Moonlight, Doc! She’s dead!” The girl had long black hair and strong features that would one day lead to beauty. She was possibly in her early teens, with the developing contours of a woman. Tears streaked her cheeks as she flung herself into Doc’s arms. “She’s out on the highway. We’ve got to go get her!”

Sheila saw Doc’s expression harden, and his arms went rigid in the act of encircling Tanya. He raised his gaze to meet Canaan’s.

Canaan nodded as he walked toward them, his sober face pained as he flicked a quick glance at Sheila, then looked back at Doc. “Looks like someone hit her with a car. We’ll take the pickup out and load her.”

“No need. I’ll take care of it,” Doc said.

Canaan’s attention shifted again. “Hello, Sheila.” He took her hand and squeezed it. His hand engulfed hers. “I’m sorry this has happened on your first day.”

Sheila didn’t speak, didn’t return the pressure of Canaan’s hand. She stood perfectly still. That dog in the desert…

No. She hadn’t lost her mind.

But a whisper of foreboding settled on her.

Doc released Tanya and turned to Sheila, brows lowering with obvious puzzlement at her silence.

“Wh-what color was it?” Sheila asked Canaan. “What kind of…dog?”

“She was just a big white mutt,” Canaan said.

“Kind of like a German shepherd?” Sheila asked.

“So did you see the dog?” Canaan asked.

“Well, I thought I saw something in the desert as I drove in, but I didn’t see anything on the road.” She thought again about the blowout…and the big rock on the shoulder of the road. “I had some trouble with my Jeep, hit a rock or something, but—” She hesitated, then shook her head. “The animal I saw was out in the desert, not under the wheel of my car.”

Tanya turned narrowed eyes toward her in accusation.

Sheila shook her head, still thinking about that rock. It was white, shining in the sunlight. The dog had been white.

Canaan glanced toward the front of Sheila’s Jeep. Instinctively, she looked, as well. All she saw was the dent that had been there for several years. No blood, nothing to indicate impact with the hapless animal.

Tanya glared at Sheila. “You just got here, didn’t you?”

Sheila nodded.

“Moonlight was a fresh kill.” The words coming from the girl held an ominous quality. “I think you killed her.”

Sheila shook her head. Surely she’d have seen some evidence…would have seen the dog, if she’d hit it. But she’d been too busy fighting her steering wheel, then changing the tire in record time. The noise she’d heard couldn’t have been the sound of the tire hitting an animal…could it?