Placing my back to the falen tree, I twisted a branch from side to side, trying to detach it.

The circle was getting smaler. I could hear their panting, smel their bodies. One of the group took a step inside the circle, then another, flicking its tail up, down. It stood staring, soundless.

The branch broke, and at the sound the wolf jumped back, then stood again and stared.

Grasping my branch like a basebal bat, I screamed, 'Beat it, you scavengers. Get out of here,' and lunged at the lead wolf, swinging my club.

The wolf easily jumped out of the way, retreated a few feet, then resumed circling and snarling. As I was readying my lungs for the loudest yel that had ever escaped them, someone beat me to it.

'Scram, you goddamn fur bals. Yo! Haul ass!'

Then one missile folowed by another landed near the lead wolf.

The wolf scented, snarled, then spun and loped off into the underbrush. The others hesitated, then moved off behind him.

Hands trembling, I dropped the branch and braced myself against the falen sourwood.

A figure in Tyvek and mask ran toward me and heaved another rock in the direction of the disappearing wolves. Then a hand went up and removed the mask. Though barely visible in the twilight gloom, I recognized the face.

But it couldn't be. This was too improbable to be real.

CHAPTER FOUR

'Nice swing, you looked like Sammy Sosa.'

'The goddamn thing was getting ready to go for my throat!' It was almost a shriek.

'They don't attack live people. They were only trying to drive you away from their dinner.'

'Did one of them explain that to you personaly?'

Andrew Ryan plucked a leaf from my hair.

But Ryan was underground somewhere in Quebec.

'What in hel are you doing here?' Slightly calmer.

'Is that a thank-you, Goldilocks? Maybe Riding Hood would be more appropriate, given the circumstances.'

'Thanks,' I mumbled, brushing bangs off my forehead. Though I was grateful for the intervention, I preferred not to cast it as a rescue.

'Nice do.'

He reached for my hair again, and I parried the move. As usual when our paths crossed, I was not looking my best.

'I'm scraping up quarts of brain matter, and a wolf pack was just sizing me up as a candidate for joining the dismembered, and you find fault with my styling gel?'

'Is there a reason you're out here by yourself?'

His paternalism irritated me. 'Is there a reason you're here at al?'

The lines in his face tensed. Such nice lines, each placed exactly where it ought to be.

'Bertrand was on the plane.'

'Jean?'

The passenger list. Bertrand. It was a common name, so I'd never thought of Ryan's partner.