Chapter 17 Wolf
Wolf
The morning at the library settled into a strange rhythm.
Nora worked.
The Magnolia Ladies fussed.
And I watched.
I stayed near the front windows, where I could see Main Street, the sidewalk, and every car that slowed a little too long. Saint and Havoc were posted a few buildings down, pretending to help Trigger paint something on the tavern door.
They were terrible at pretending.
“Wyatt?” Agnes called sweetly from the reading table. “You want a muffin? Or six? You look like you haven’t eaten since the war.”
“Which one?” June muttered.
Mabel smacked her arm. “Don’t tease the man when he’s busy glaring at the glass.”
“I’m good,” I said, eyes on the street.
Nora glanced up from her computer, lips twitching. “You’re making the regulars nervous.”
“Good,” I said.
She shook her head and went back to her cataloging, but every so often her gaze slid to me, like she needed to confirm I was still there.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
SHERIFF TATE lit up the screen.
My gut tightened. “I need to take this,” I murmured to Nora.
She went still. “It’s him?”
“Yeah.”
I stepped outside to the sidewalk, putting the building between my voice and the Magnolia Ladies’ ears. Saint looked over immediately from across the street, tracking my expression.
I answered. “Sheriff.”
“Wyatt.” Tate’s voice was rougher than usual. “You at the library?”
“Yeah. She’s working. I’m here.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” Paper rustled on his end. “I ran that coin. Called in a favor or two.”
“And?”
He hesitated.
My hand curled around the phone tighter. “Sheriff.”
“It matches,” he finally said. “A symbol from a cold case in Ridgemont County. About forty-five minutes south.”
Ridgemont.
I’d worked a volunteer search there a few years back. Forested, rural, with a sheriff’s department that was always two deputies short.
“What kind of case?” I asked.
“Missing woman,” he said. “Twenty-six. Lived alone. Reported a prowler a week before she disappeared. Woke up twice thinking someone was in the house. Patrol never caught him. Then one morning, her neighbor found her front door cracked open. She was gone.”
My jaw clenched. “And the coin?”
“Left on her porch step,” Tate said. “Same size, same metal, same damn wolf’s head stamped into it. They found another one a year later in a different town. Similar situation. Woman living alone. Went missing. No body, no suspect, no closure.”
I stared across the street at Saint and Havoc. Saint had gone still, reading my lips from afar. Havoc’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re telling me this son of a bitch leaves trophies,” I said.
“Calling cards,” Tate corrected. “Like I said this morning—this isn’t random. He escalates. Starts with watching, stalking, maybe break-ins. Then one day she’s just… gone.”
For a long beat, all I heard was my own breathing.
Tate went on, quieter. “The Ridgemont sheriff sent their files up to the state task force when the second coin turned up. FBI glanced at it, decided it wasn’t enough to connect to any series they were working. And then it went cold.”
“Until now,” I said.
“Until now,” he echoed.
I looked through the glass.
Nora was laughing at something Agnes had said, head tipped back, sunlight catching the curve of her throat. Knowing what I knew now made the back of my neck go hot.
“Does he pick at random?” I asked. “Or does he have a type?”
Another rustle of pages. “From what I’ve got? Late twenties to early thirties, living alone, predictable routines, no close male presence.” Tate paused. “Librarian in a small town wouldn’t be a stretch.”
My molars ground together. “He picked the wrong town, and the wrong woman.”
“I’m counting on that,” Tate said. “But listen to me, Wyatt—we treat this like the first twenty-four hours of a kidnapping, even if she’s still standing in front of you. Every minute from here on out, we assume he’s planning his next move.”
“I already am.”
“I figured,” he said. “You’ve got that look even over the phone.
” Another pause. “I’m going to loop in Ridgemont and see if they had any partial prints, tire impressions, anything we can lean on.
In the meantime, she doesn’t go anywhere without you or one of your boys.
Not home, not to the grocery store, not even out back to take the trash. ”
“Understood.”
“Wyatt,” Tate added, voice dropping, “these two women in the old cases? They also reported seeing a tall man watching them from the edge of their property. They brushed it off as paranoia until it was too late.”
I thought of the camera footage.
Of that shadow at the end of Nora’s walkway.
Staring straight at the lens with that subtle, mocking tilt of his chin.
“We’re not brushing it off,” I said.
“Good,” Tate replied. “Because if this is the same bastard, he’s done this before. And men like that? They don’t just stop.”
We hung up.
I stood there for a full thirty seconds, letting the information settle. Every instinct I had screamed movement. Fortify. Hunt.
Saint approached, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Bad?”
“Cold case,” I said. “Ridgemont County. Missing women. Same coin on both porches.”
He swore under his breath. “Pattern?”
“Single women. Alone. Stalker reports before disappearance.” I nodded toward the window. “She’s his type.”
Saint’s gaze went hard. “Then we break the pattern.”
Havoc joined us, crossing his arms. “We bring her to the tavern. Upstairs apartment. More eyes, more walls, more guns.”
The idea was already lodged in my own mind. “Soon,” I said. “But if we move her too fast, we spook her. Right now, she needs routine. Work. Normal.”
Saint nodded slowly. “So we adjust our normal.”
Trigger leaned around the corner of the tavern, paint-smeared and eavesdropping blatantly. “Does this normal involve me sleeping with a baseball bat?”
“Yes,” Havoc said.
“And keeping your mouth shut near Nora,” I added.
Trigger groaned. “You ask the impossible.”
I took a breath, shoved down the rush of anger and fear, and went back inside.
Nora looked up immediately.
She read my face in under a second. “What did he say?”
I could’ve softened it.
I didn’t.
“He ran the symbol,” I said. “It matches a cold case in Ridgemont County. Two of them, actually.”
The color drained from her cheeks. “Cold case?”
“Missing women,” I said gently. “Same type of coin left on their porches before they disappeared.”
Agnes, June, and Mabel went still. Every wrinkle sharpened.
Mabel murmured, “Dear Lord.”
Nora’s hand found the edge of the desk, gripping it tight. “So he’s done this before.”
“Yes.”
“And those women… they weren’t found?” she whispered.
I shook my head.
Something flickered behind her eyes—not just fear, but anger. Quiet, simmering anger.
“Why me?” she asked.
“Because you fit the pattern,” I said honestly. “You live alone. You have a routine. You walk home the same way every night. And you’re…” My jaw clenched on the last word.
Her gaze softened. “Visible?”
“Yeah,” I said roughly.
Agnes rose to her feet with surprising force. “Well, that settles it. The Eagle River Ladies’ Auxiliary is now the Eagle River Counter-Stalking Unit.”
June picked up the colander. “We’re already armed.”
Mabel snapped her lighter. “And dangerous.”
Despite everything, Nora laughed weakly. “Thanks, you three.”
I moved closer to her, lowering my voice. “Nora.”
She looked up at me.
“You’re not going to be one of his cold cases,” I said. “Not while I’m breathing.”
Her eyes shone. “You can’t promise that.”
“Watch me.”
For a moment, we just stood there—the women, the books, the sunlight, the danger pressing in around the edges.
Then she straightened her shoulders. “Okay,” she said. “What do we do? I’m not going down without a fight.”
It was the same question as before. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her right there in front of the Magnolia ladies. I didn’t care who saw us. I was staking my claim to this woman right now.
She licked her lips and smiled. “Well, what do we do?”
But now she asked it like a partner, not a victim.
“We control what we can,” I said. “You keep working like you always do. You don’t walk anywhere alone. When the library closes, you don’t go home to an empty house.”
Her brows lifted. “Where do I go?”
I held her gaze.
“Upstairs apartment at the tavern,” I said. “At least for a while. There are seven bedrooms; we have tons of room up there. We’re almost finished. It’s secure. And you’ll have four Rangers and half the town between you and his line of sight.”
She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip.
Leaving her house meant admitting this was real.
Meant rearranging her life around a ghost.
“Is this really necessary?” she whispered.
I stepped closer, close enough that my voice didn’t have to carry.
“You want the truth?” I asked.
She nodded.
“It’s beyond necessary,” I said. “If this is who we think it is, he’s not going to stop because we ask nicely. He’ll stop when he’s forced to. And until then, I’m not giving him a second where he can get to you without going through me.”
Her eyes filled, but she blinked the tears back. “Okay,” she said again. Stronger this time. “Then I’ll go.”
Agnes clapped her hands. “Good. We’ll bring dinner.”
“Cookies,” June added.
“Pepper spray,” Mabel chimed in.
Nora let out a shaky breath and turned back to me. “You’ll be there?”
I answered without hesitation.
“Every second,” I said.
And as I held her gaze, I knew one thing with absolute, terrifying clarity:
This wasn’t just a mission anymore.
It was personal. And Nora would be in my bed with me. No one was getting near her.