Chapter Ten #3
Exiting the car, they climbed over the gate to access the walking trail.
The police had trampled all over the area yesterday as they’d checked out the site after Kenichi had been rescued.
But now it was abandoned and completely quiet once more.
It was immediately obvious that no one had been this way this morning, as all of their footprints from yesterday were now covered with a light dusting of snow and there were no fresh ones that he could see.
Aurora conveyed the fact that she noticed this as well with a raised eyebrow, but neither of them spoke as they moved quickly through the forest. As the sun continued to rise, the clouds had begun to clear above, turning wispy and washed-out, revealing a pale-blue sky.
For the first time, he noticed how hushed the forest was.
How flawless the unbroken snow looked as they paced quietly along the trail, the blanket of white muffling every sound.
He tipped his head back to look up at the branches above; the needles covered with a thick layer of frosting looked like they’d just been plucked from a glossy magazine showing the picture-perfect winter wonderland.
It was incredibly beautiful. Of course he knew it would be like this, and he’d appreciated the beauty on the day they had gone out to the reindeer farm, but this was different somehow.
Just him and Aurora walking through the wilderness.
He stopped and stood to listen, a strange kind of peace washing over him.
Strange, because the last thing he should be feeling was peaceful.
They were on their way to a hunting cabin to find God knew what.
He should be anxious, alert, wary, fearful.
But he was none of those things. It was almost as if he felt at home here.
Aurora turned, sensing he’d stopped, her mouth quirked up at one side as if to say, what the hell?
“Sorry, I’m coming,” he said, hurrying to catch up with her.
He wouldn’t be able to explain exactly how he was feeling, and even if he did, she probably wouldn’t understand; her thoughts would be fixed firmly on getting to the cabin, as his should be.
They were nearly at the clearing now, but only half of his mind was focused on where they were going and what they would find when they got there.
The other half was focused on the strange feeling flowing through him.
The only other time he felt like this was when he was camping out in the wilderness, or on one of the field trips to track the wolves they were studying during his work at the center.
He’d remembered hearing the wolves howling the other night when they’d been at the reindeer farm.
It’d been soulful and fierce—there was nothing quite like the sound of untamed wolves howling in unison.
At the time, he’d made a promise to himself to find out more about the Nordic wolf population.
Sadly, he’d been preoccupied with other things and hadn’t done so. Yet.
He knew some of the Nordic wolf’s traits would probably be much the same as its Californian brothers.
Such as the fact that all wolf pups had blue eyes when they were first born, with their eyes turning yellow usually before the end of their first year.
The wolves that he studied could travel long distances, up to forty or fifty kilometers a day if their territory allowed for it.
He wondered if the Nordic wolves traveled even further because they had large corridors of unbroken wilderness in which to roam.
Aurora slowed her pace in front of him, and he realized he’d been daydreaming.
Shaking his head, he refocused. They were close to the edge of the clearing now, but this time she didn’t stop to survey the surroundings, instead turning left and following the trail they’d made yesterday when they’d come to rescue his father.
He was grateful for the use of Karl’s snow gear as they waded through knee-deep drifts.
His feet were still dry and toasty warm, unlike when he’d been wearing his own boots yesterday.
And although it was probably still ten below zero, he was almost too warm in the thick jacket and waterproof gloves.
Now he understood what Aurora had been trying to tell him.
He’d spent a lot of time in the wilderness, hiking, camping, tracking his wolves, even during winter in the snowcapped mountains of Montana.
So he’d thought he was prepared, but he’d been wrong.
Jiro caught glimpses of the cabin as they threaded through the trees; it looked exactly the same as it had when they were last here.
Why had the kidnappers chosen this particular hut?
Was Aurora correct when she theorized that whoever owned this land might be connected somehow?
It didn’t really matter now anyway. What mattered was getting inside.
Jiro’s heart rate picked up even as Aurora waved her hand at him behind her back to warn him to be quiet.
They hunkered down and edged more slowly around the clearing until they were close to where the cabin nestled in a small copes of birch trees.
Aurora drew her weapon, but kept it pointed at the ground.
Jiro had to stop himself from shouting out Taro’s name as he kneeled in the snow.
Was his brother in there? And was he alive?
They finally got into a position where they could see directly into the single entrance.
Unlike yesterday, the door now gaped open, exactly the way they’d left it when they carried Papa out.
The mess of footprints they and the other police had left behind was still visible in the snow outside.
But it was clear that no one had been near this place since they’d left yesterday morning.
“This is a dead end,” he said, standing up to his full height. “Taro isn’t here.”
Aurora also stood, replacing her gun in her holster. “It seems that way,” she agreed. “We should check it out anyway.”
He let her go first, knowing that he would just get a lecture if he tried to push past her.
But when they both peered around the edge of the door, he found exactly what he was expecting.
Nothing. It was completely empty. Now what?
Was this a dead end? Would the kidnapper send him another message?
He had to resist the urge to ram his fist into the wall.
They were wasting time. They needed to find Taro.