He was a nice looking guy in his late twenties or early thirties, in dark rimmed glasses, with a flock of unkempt but healthy looking hair and a trim, athletic build. I was immediately jealous.He gave me a healthy handshake. "So this is the famous Steven! Well, well, we meet at last!"I blushed, my entire body shaking with my hand. "Uh, not famous. Not just yet." Well, you should definitely keep Martha as your press agent. She gave you great billing over the phone with me, several times."He introduced me to the two teenagers who were going to be stage managers for the show, and to the two women with clipboards who sat nearer the stage taking rehearsal and costume notes, and to the two guys in suits who were supervisors in the church. Then he had Martha and I sit a few rows down and told us the rehearsal would start soon. He said as he seated us, "These are the critics' seats, y'know, best seats in the house. Now, Steven, don't be too rough on us."I smiled. "I expect I might be too. It was probably a squirrel or a deer.He rose to his feet reluctantly and walked over to Smoke, gripping him by the collar and pulling him down from the windowsill, he had scarred the wallpaper beneath it with his sharp claws. Smoke immediately tried to jump back up, ignoring his master entirely, all of his senses focused like a laser beam on whatever he had seen outside.“Smoke, bad dog,” Matt grumbled. “Smoke!”The dog barked again, his tail as straight as a rod. Something really had him spooked.A howl rang out over the forest, loud enough to be heard clearly inside the house, making Matt’s skin crawl and his blood run ice cold as it echoed through the trees. Smoke barked excitedly, tugging at his collar as Matt struggled to hold him.That was a wolf! Had to be. Matt knew that there were timber wolves in the Pacific Northwest, but they tended to steer clear of humans and population centers.Wait a minute, the biker was out there, alone in the forest. Timber wolves could grow to be as.
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