Free Mellizo Wolves by Lynde Lakes Page B

in haste. He wished he had some cash, but going to the safe in the den
was too risky. When he left the closet and reentered the tunnel, he spied a
dark figure carrying a huge canvas bag over his shoulder. Hugo caught a whiff
of the strong scent of chloroform. Earlier, watching the men and police comb
the area had suggested that something big was going on. Apparently, it was a
robbery. Who was the thief, and what was he stealing? Hugo decided to follow
him.
    Skirting police and civilian search parties, he followed
the wily thief to a cave. When he entered the dark, dank tunnels, it was easy
to keep him in sight because the guy had a flashlight. Hugo was careful to stay
in the shadows. Ahead, he saw what appeared to be flickering lantern light.
When they approached a wider area with a raised stone platform that resembled a
stage, he stopped and crouched behind a large boulder. He watched the thief
meet with a taller man wearing field clothes. The lantern light gave him a
better view of the thief. He had a slight build and wore western clothes and
cowboy boots. The thief handed the bulging canvas bag to a taller man and, in
return, received a thick, rubber-banded wad of cash. The man opened the bag and
glanced inside. He frowned. “Where’s the other one?”
    “She got away.”
    The man grabbed the money back and divided it in half.
“You’ll get the rest when the delivery is complete.”
    “I can’t go in there again. They have alarms and cameras
all over the place.”
    “Can’t or won’t?”
    “Both, damn it.”
    “Then, I don’t really need you anymore,” the man said as he
drew a gun and shot him right in the heart. The slight pop that echoed through
the cave verified that the gun was equipped with a silencer.
    The killer withdrew a glass vial and a syringe from a
nearby backpack. Before Hugo understood what the bad guy was about to do, he
reached into the bag, withdrew a tiny arm, and jabbed the syringe into a vein.
The vial filled with blood.
    Hugo froze, suddenly remembering that the man with the gun
had asked, “Where’s the other one?” And the thief answered, “She got away.” The
thief was no thief—he was a kidnapper. Hugo swallowed. And that was his little
niece. Let her be alive.
    While he debated the best way to get the child away from
that killer without any further danger to her, the man stored the bag in a
chest, locked it, grabbed the vial, and took off running toward the cave
entrance.
    Hugo didn’t wait to be certain the man was gone. His niece
couldn’t breathe in there! He grabbed a big stone and busted the lock. He
reached into the chest, opened the bag, and lifted the limp little girl of
about three into his arms. She was breathing! He kissed her icy cheek. Poor
baby, she was probably freezing in this damp cave. He grabbed up the discarded
canvas, wrapped it warmly around her, and headed for the mansion. How would he
explain that he was no longer dead? It was unexplainable. He had to stay out of
sight. So how would he pull this return off without getting caught? If he got
caught, he might be blamed for the kidnapping. And if he pulled this off, how
would he prevent another kidnapping?
    Earlier, he’d watched men in field gear gathering different
species, probably for some kind of testing. Was this part of that? If so, why
the gun, why the murder?
    Minutes later, from the closet in Damon’s bedroom, Hugo
heard voices in the adjacent room. One belonged to a small girl, the other to
Angela. Dare he face Angela and risk telling her what happened? Without his
hump and with his renewed skin, he probably wouldn’t look like himself. And if
he did…she and Damon had buried him. He might scare her to death. He’d better
not confront her.
    From all his years as a maintenance man, he knew how to
temporarily shut down the cameras. The model was the same type used at Damon’s
place of business. He disconnected the main circuit, tiptoed into the master
bedroom, and gently placed the