Page 9 of The Search

Another howl echoed through the night.

Monty’s head lifted. Beautiful. Free.

Dogs were supposed to be descended from wolves, but she had never noticed any savage qualities in Monty. No animal could be more gentle or loving. Yet was he feeling some buried instinct as he listened to that wolf? The idea made her uneasy, and she dismissed it immediately. “I think it’s time we went back to the cabin. You’re getting moonstruck.” She started at a run down the path toward the cabin in the valley below.

Clean wind.

Clean air.

Firm earth.

Silence that had nothing to do with death or sorrow.

God, it was good to be home.

Good.

“You bet. Beat you to the cabin.”

She didn’t, of course. Monty had already jumped through his dog door and was lapping at the water in his dish when she threw open the front door. “You’re supposed to be tired from that job in Barat. Give me a break.”

Monty gave her a scornful look and then leisurely walked over to his rug in front of the fireplace.

“Okay, don’t give me a break. But remember who pays for the groceries.”

Monty yawned and stretched out.

The fire was welcoming and her easy chair beckoned. She would like to stretch out herself.

She reluctantly glanced at the blinking red light on her answering machine. She had ignored it when she’d arrived at the cabin two hours before and was tempted to do the same thing now.

Retrieve the messages or take a shower and then curl up in front of the fire? She knew what she wanted to do. Close the world out and go back to the routine with Monty that soothed and sustained them during these off periods. Even the telephone was an intrusion when all she needed was rest, exercise, and no more mental stress than was involved in reading a good book.

But that red light wouldn’t stop blinking. She might as well get it over with.

She crossed the room. Two messages.

She punched the button.

“Todd Madden. Welcome back, Sarah.”

Shit. She didn’t need this.

Her hands clenched into fists as she heard Madden’s smooth, faintly mocking tone. “I hear you did a magnificent job. The team earned grateful praise from the Turkish government, not to mention nice coverage by CNN. I think we may have to bring you and Monty up to Washington for a few interviews.”

“The hell you will, you asshole,” she muttered.

“I can almost see your expression. You’re so predictable. Unfortunately, Boyd’s mandatory report to ATF on you mentioned that you disobeyed orders on one occasion. He was obviously trying to protect you, but he had to do his job. Are you becoming unstable, Sarah? You know we can’t permit instability at ATF. And you know the consequences of your expulsion from ATF.” He paused. “But I’m sure you can persuade me that this was just an isolated incident. Come up to Washington for those interviews and we’ll talk about it.”

Slimy bastard.

“Call me and tell me when you’ll arrive. No more than two days, I think. We don’t want to be old news.” He hung up.

She closed her eyes as waves of rage poured through her. Damn him. Damn him.

She drew a deep breath and tried to control herself. Madden would love to know that he had upset her. He preferred cowed obedience and he didn’t like it when she refused to give it to him. He might have the upper hand, but she had let him know what she thought of him any number of times in language that was both abusive and explicit.

Screw him. There wasn’t any question she’d have to go to Washington, but she wouldn’t call him back and she’d take at least a three-day rest before she left the ranch.