Devlyn paused, making sure the Humvee driver’s vehicle wasn’t incapacitated.

For a second, the two vehicles faced each other in a gunfight standoff, and then Devlyn turned his SUV around in the gravel and drove slowly, watching to see if the Humvee followed them. When it did, he nodded, assured the guy’s vehicle was fine.

“Wonder who the guy is. Could use him for backup when the going gets rough,” he said.

“I’d sure like to know his story.” She sighed deeply. “We didn’t find one lick of evidence on Alfred yet.”

“I think he’s too wily to keep anything around that could incriminate him. The only other thing would be if we could get in the house of the last girl who was murdered. If we smelled him there, that would cinch it.”

When they reached the main road, Devlyn turned his headlights back on for the benefit of other vehicles.

“The Humvee went in the opposite direction.”

“Too bad. I was beginning to like the guy.”

“He could be bad news.”

“That he could.” But Devlyn’s gut instinct told him the mystery red wasn’t.

For several miles, Bella watched her sideview mirror. Because of the bad road conditions — the water puddled up in ponds in places on the highway and the rain ran down the windshield like a continuous rampant waterfall — Devlyn concentrated on what was in front of them.

“Maybe we can check out the girl’s place now.”

Bella stared at the headlight shining on her sideview mirror and studied the forest-green SUV skulking behind them. “I think someone else is following us.”

Devlyn looked up at his rearview mirror. “Saw one like it parked at the mobile home on Alfred’s property.”

Bella made a face. “Great, then they know we’re on to them. Well, not that they wouldn’t know already. I imagine the woman who ratted on us probably called Alfred at his home in Portland and warned him that we were snooping around his country estate.”

“Well, tit for tat. He broke into your place. Payback can be hell.”

“Yeah, we dripped water all over his expensive carpets.”

“And you stole his favorite bedtime book. So what did you learn from the human-concocted ‘werewolf legend’?”

She flipped through the book, scanning several pages, and then gave a ladylike snort. “A human wrote it.”

Devlyn raised a brow. “What did it say?”

“Why should you care? You already said humans don’t have a clue.”

“You’re right. So what did it say?”

She cast him an annoyed look. “A Scandinavian white wolf was the first lupus garou.”

Devlyn laughed out loud.

Bella threw the book into the backseat. “I told you it was a bunch of nonsense.” She glanced back at the vehicle following them. “Can you lose the SUv?”

“I could do better than that.” He jerked the rental SUv over to the shoulder of the road, and the green one jammed on its brakes and stopped several feet behind them.

Her heart skipping beats, Bella grabbed Devlyn’s arm. “What if the SUv’s packed with reds? You can’t fight them all.”

The other vehicle idled behind them. Devlyn’s neck muscle tightened and his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the steering wheel.

“Devlyn, we might as well return home if they know what we’re up to. Even if we managed to lose them, the word’s probably out that we’re investigating the murders.”

“I imagine by now the whole pack knows and every one of them will be watching for us, either at Ross’s place, his packing plant, or the murdered girls’ houses, if they don’t know we’ve been at any of them. Unless they’ve checked them out and found our scent there.” He gave a satisfied smile.

“Right.” Bella let out her breath. “Hell, that means Alfred’s involved. Otherwise, he’d terminate Ross and Nicol himself for creating all of this mess. And the other red, too.”

Devlyn glanced in the rearview mirror. “Unless he’s a loner — not part of the pack.” He pulled back onto the road and headed for Bella’s house.

The rain would let up intermittently and then pour hard again in places, but she could still see the green SUV following them. Twice, the rental SUV Devlyn was driving slid like a skater out of control on the waterlogged road.

“Nearly worse than the ice in Colorado,” he groused under his breath.

When they finally neared Bella’s house, the green SUV suddenly headed down a side road and took off. But Bella and Devlyn had a new surprise waiting for them.

Two police cars and a fire engine, their lights flashing, were parked in front of Bella’s place; her stomach took an instant dive. Smoke was billowing into the night sky in the backyard behind her house. Her greenhouse and shed were on fire!

Devlyn pulled into the garage, barely parking before Bella jerked open the door and leapt from the car and dashed out the garage door to the backyard.

“Bella!”

She heard Devlyn’s heavy footfall behind her as a policeman tried to block her path to the greenhouse. Despite the intermittent heavy rainfall, the roof protected the fire blazing inside and the firemen had to use hoses to bring the blaze under control.

“My plants,” Bella cried, trying to get to her shed, but Devlyn gathered her against his body and held her tight.

“You can’t go near it, Bella,” he said, half commanding, half trying to console her.

Another vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the house and Thompson, Chrissie, and her kids piled out of the car.

“Omigosh, Bella,” Chrissie said, running to join her.

“What happened?”

“Vandals,” one of the policemen said. “Whoever did it broke most of the windows in the greenhouse, trashed the inside, and then poured gallons of gasoline everywhere. Luckily, the wind died down before the blaze really took hold or the house might have caught fire.”

Thompson rubbed Chrissie’s arm. “Why don’t you take the kids in the house and I’ll be over in a little bit.”

But Chrissie looked devastated and didn’t seem to want to leave Bella alone. Shivering, her kids stood out of the rain on the back patio, their eyes and mouths wide as they gaped at the fire. Chrissie gave Bella’s hand a squeeze and said, “Call me.” Then she hurried the kids to her house.

Thompson shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the dwindling inferno. “Police called me to say that whoever set fire to your greenhouse must have been the one who hacked into the police headquarters and sent a bogus message to Sergeant Reddy, who pulled the police detail watching your place.” Thompson shook his head. “This Volan character is sure vindictive.”

Volan?

Bella was sure the reds had burned the greenhouse, probably in retaliation for snooping around Alfred’s house. She tried to get closer to the building to see if she could pick up the reds’ scent, or Volan’s. But Devlyn wasn’t letting her get any nearer, and she growled at him.

Without warning, an explosion rocked the greenhouse. Splintered glass and wood flew across the backyard, and Devlyn yanked Bella behind the garage while everyone else took cover.

“Hell!” one of the firemen said. “What did you have in there?”

“Fertilizers, garden chemicals, gas for my mower, not sure what else,” Bella said, making her way back to where she’d been standing, her eyes filled with tears and her heart in her throat. In the next instant, the greenhouse roof collapsed, and everyone dashed for safety again.

Once it appeared the greenhouse was settled in ruins, the fireman returned to put out the rest of the flames, now smoldering in the twisted metal, glass, and wood debris.

“Thankfully, your next-door neighbor Mr. Sherman called in the vandalism,” one of the policeman said. “Mr. Sherman said he thought the guy was going to torch the house, so he began yelling on the phone to 911 all the details about the guy — big, dark-haired, sounded a lot like volan.”

Thompson looked back at Bella and Devlyn. She hoped she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “You didn’t hear or see anything?” he asked.

The policeman offered, “They weren’t here. They just arrived shortly before you did.”

Thompson looked from Bella to Devlyn, and she knew he was waiting for a report, but neither of them said anything.

“Guess it was good you weren’t home then,” Thompson said, “or volan might have tried to do more.” He turned this attention to the police officer. “Is the watch back on the house?”

“You bet. Police Chief Whittaker himself directed it. He said there’s to be no more foul-ups, or heads will roll. Now, only he can change the order.”

Bella exchanged a glance with Devlyn. Their sleuthing days appeared to be over unless they wanted a police escort tailing them or they could think up some other creative way to get rid of a tail.

Early the next morning, even though it was dark, with threatening storm clouds hovering overhead like a permanent menace, Devlyn reached out for Bella in bed, but he found her gone. He listened, hoping to hear her butler announcing new email or the sound of her cooking in the kitchen. Nothing. And then the rain, pitter-pattering at first, followed by a roar as it drowned the area, filled his ears. He was sure if he didn’t leave here soon, his skin would start wearing a coat of green moss or mold.

Shoving the covers aside, he headed out of the bedroom. She wasn’t in her office. She couldn’t be in the greenhouse now. The thought of the ruined greenhouse sickened him. When he returned her to Colorado, he’d build her one twice as big.

He strode through the living room, but then he saw her standing in the green velvet robe on the back porch, staring at the burned wreckage. Growling at the insidi-ousness of whoever torched her building, he pulled the door open and stalked outside.

She took a deep breath and rubbed her arms. Devlyn pulled her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. “Come on back inside, Bella honey. I’ll make you something to eat.”