The Wolf Under the Full Moon

Chapter 7: The Warden

AT THE SANCTUARY

RORY POV

When we got back to the sanctuary, Brian hopped off the ATV near the back gate and offered to check the fence perimeter to ensure there weren't any other holes. My mom and I checked the security footage and were relieved to find nothing unusual. Then, my mom called Steven Whitman, the local warden. She had his number saved, and we were used to keeping in contact with Steven. My mom paced as we waited for Steven, or Whitman, as he liked to be called, near the front gate, and I nearly jumped when I got a text message. It was from Oliver.

'Hey there, it's me, Oliver. I hope you're doing well. Let's hang out soon. I'd love to hear more about your sanctuary. Coffee?'

I smiled. Gorgeous Oliver wanted to hang out with me. I felt special.

'Yes! Soon!' I texted him a smiley face emoji too.

'Great, let me know a time when you're free, and we can meet up.'

One of the perils of living in Wayford was the lack of amenities. We couldn't have a date at a post office. There were a few neighboring towns, but they lacked the creature comforts of the larger cities in Alaska. I didn't want to drive to Fairbanks, but I knew Copper Creek, about fifteen minutes south, had a coffee shop, some restaurants, and even a bar.

Whitman pulled up in his state-issued truck and waved to us in a friendly way. He rolled down his window and stuck his head out, grinning. "He-llo, ladies, how can I help you on this fine day?"

"It's serious, Whitman," my mom said grimly, "some wolves got out."

Whitman's expression changed, and he put the truck in park. I shot my mom a worried look. I hoped Whitman wouldn't blame us for the wolves getting out. I felt we had tried our best to have a secure sanctuary.

Whitman stepped out, closed the truck door, and walked over to us with his hand on his belt in the typical law-enforcement stance.

"What you mean, wolves got out? How did that happen?" Whitman had an almost southern accent that was unusual to hear in Alaska.

"Someone or something cut a hole in my fence, and four wolves got out. We searched the premises and the surrounding area, but we didn't find them."

"How long ago was this?"

"They've been gone about twenty-four hours now."

"Well, did you look for tracks?"

"Yes," my mom said slowly as she quickly looked at me. We hadn't discussed what we were going to say to Whitman, which in hindsight was somewhat important. My mom had been too busy nervously pacing. I knew she was nervous that Whitman could tell her to stop taking any more wolves in, or even worse, to shut down operations.

"Well, did you find any?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes, one set of prints. But they were quite large, and our wolves were too small to make the prints. This was out in the forest. I didn't see any leaving the sanctuary."

"Where was this?"

"Up towards Saffron Mountain, quite a ways away."

"Well, you both know, wolves can travel quite the distance. How many escaped?"

"Four," my mom answered quietly. She held her head down, and I could tell she was embarrassed.

"Ms. Kiel, I wish I could say this wasn't a big deal, but it is," Whitman said, turning. My mother and I watched silently as he went back to this truck, turned it off, and returned with a clipboard and pen. "I have to take a report. It's protocol. What the department decides is up to them." He wrote some information on the first paper then turned to me.

"We're really sorry," I blurted out. "We try to keep this place as secure as possible."

"What she means is that it was a secluded incident, and it won't happen again," my mother interrupted, ignoring me.

Whitman nodded. "Ain't your fence electric?"

"Yes," I said quickly.

"Was it on when they escaped?"

"Yes," my mother said, crossing her arms. Whitman stopped writing and looked up at us.

"You're trying to tell me, something cut a hole in your fence big enough for four wolves to escape with the electricity on? And no prints were leading out? Don't that sound suspicious to you?"

"Well, yes, that's why this doesn't make any sense," my mom said, eyeing him. Whitman shot her a look and looked at us both suspiciously. He didn't believe our story.

"Did you leave one of the fences open, Ms. Kiel? You don't have to lie, and this will make my investigation a lot easier," he said flatly.

My mom said nothing and retrieved her cell phone out of her back pocket. She turned her cell phone, so he could see the photo she had taken of the hole in the fence.

"I mean, you could have taken that anytime. How do I know that's the hole you're telling me about?"

"Whitman," my mom said, sighing, "I don't have time, patience, or capacity to make up a story. My staff and I use the utmost care and professionalism when working with the animals. If someone made a mistake, I would just 'fess up and say it. But I'm telling you the truth. I don't know how someone cut a hole in the fence like that. None of it makes sense. And now my wolves are missing and could be in danger."

Whitman stared off past her in silent contemplation. He was deciding on whether or not he wanted to believe her. I didn't blame him. The story was pretty far-fetched. Sighing, he walked over to his truck and tossed the clipboard in the cab. Leaving the truck door open, he walked back over to us and looked at my mother with impatience.

"What do you think happened, Ms. Kiel?"

"I don't know Whitman," she said, shaking her head, "but I'm worried whoever is out there could do it again."

He sighed deeply and put his hands on his hips. "This is my fourth call in the last two days, and I think I've had at least ten this week. People have been reporting seeing wolves all around the town limits, and this was before your wolves supposedly went missing."

I tried to hide the panicked look on my face. Was he talking about the wolves that had surrounded us? I noticed my mother had conveniently left out that story to Whitman.

"Really?" she asked cooly.

"Yes, sometimes it's a pack of them, sometimes it's only one."

I looked at my mom with surprised eyebrows, but she didn't return eye contact. She was a much better actor than me.

"And they're just showing up near town? That is strange," she said, looking back at the sanctuary.

"I had a wolf attack earlier this week," he said, looking at me. "Y'all didn't hear about it?"

"No, we don't really have time to watch the news. We're pretty busy," my mom replied, turning back towards him.

"Yeah, the old man Mr. Brown was getting his mail, and four wolves surrounded him. Nearly mauled him to death before his wife and daughter could come out with their rifles. Mrs. Brown ain't too good of an aim, though, but at least she scared them away."

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked.

"He's going to live. He had some major lacerations and such. He was just minding his own business, though, and they came and bit him like that. Paisley was taking her evening walk, and again, four wolves came out of nowhere and started chasing her down the street. Luckily Rick was driving by and let her hop into his truck in the nick of time. She was terrified. And you said four escaped, right? You sure it was yesterday?"

"Those aren't our wolves, Whitman. And besides, our animals all have collars on for identification purposes. They are bright red, and people would have noticed them," my mom said, eyeing Whitman. We knew they weren't our wolves, but we didn't need Whitman thinking our wolves were out ambushing people.

"You say so," he said finally. "And then there's been spottings of a large white wolf too. With real grey eyes, by himself. Maybe he's the alpha? Or maybe he's part of their pack. I think they may be connected. The white wolf has been spotted a few times in the last few weeks but never attacks anyone. Any of your wolves white?"

"No, none of the wolves that got out were white. It was four grey wolves, but they're grey, not white. With yellow eyes," my mom said, growing impatient.

"I probably should have written that down," said Whitman shooting a glance at the truck. "Look, Ms. Kiel," he turned to me and added, "younger Ms. Kiel. You both do me a favor and keep this under wraps. Maybe I won't put in that report just yet. There's been too much suspicious activity going around, and I want to do a little of my own investigating before I hand this over to Fish and Game. I'm not going to lie. They're gonna blame you. The fence wasn't secure, you weren't watching the wolves, etc., but I don't think that's a fair assumption. I know how much you ladies take pride in this rescue, and I wouldn't want it to shut down for a weird coincidence. I'm gonna do some investigating, look more into these angry wolves and the solo one, and get back to you. You keep me posted, 'ya hear?"

"Will do," my mom said. We watched him quietly as he walked back to his truck. Before he got in, he turned back around to face us.

"And whatever you do, try to stay safe. I don't want to have to come and take a report on you two because y'all got bit."