yet?” Grant demanded, when Wolf inquired of him. “You should adhere to the rules, Wolf! Do not put me in a difficult position, please.”
Wolf could say nothing. He checked the other rooms (Art hadn’t returned yet and Rochelle wasn’t in her bedroom), all the rooms—under tables, under chairs, behind doors, the lofts... There were a zillion hiding places in the big house. But finally certain she wasn’t in the east wing, he went to the other side.
He found Rochelle in the Great Room, fiddling with a cabinet.
“Ah, so that’s what it is,” he grinned. “ You are hiding her, yah? Admit.”
“What are you yapping about?” she scowled, turning on him.
“Robin. The two of you have ganged up on me, haven’t you? But it’s time to quit. Dad’s getting hyper and...”
She cut him short. “Look, I don’t have the frigging time to play your stupid games. Understand?” And she walked out of the room in a huff, leaving Wolf staring at her back.
He recommenced his search. Finishing with the rooms on the west wing, he went up to the terrace. It was a long place, with profuse rose and cacti pots, among other things. She wasn’t here either. He came back down. Out on the front porch, Bruno came wagging his tail. Wolf gave him a little pat on the head.
“Hey, buddy, why don’t you go find Robin for me, eh?”
The big Alsatian immediately darted down the porch steps and headed westward, as if he knew exactly what was needed of him.
But ten minutes on, he announced failure. Dews of perspiration dotting his brow, Wolf quietly summoned the servants.
Fourteen men spread out and trampled the property, as quietly as they could, for Wolf didn’t want to rouse Dad now. What would he tell him—that she had just vanished...that he had allowed her to vanish? Though Art was the original instigator, it was finally on Grant’s word that they allowed Robin to come to Butcher Garden every weekend.
They searched, and searched, but the girl was nowhere, and finally the hunters returned to their pens.
Wolf sat on the top step of the front porch and held his head in his hands. His mind wasn’t functioning anymore. He sat for about five minutes before restlessness got him to his feet once more. He couldn’t afford idleness. Instinctively, he sought Rochelle again, like a fawn seeking mother doe.
Light filtered through from under her bedroom door and he rapped. He heard a grunt of annoyance, then Rochelle answered the door.
“Are you sure you haven’t seen Robin?” he inquired hopefully.
Her eyes flashed. “Didn’t you hear me the first time around?” she barked.
Wolf gawked at her. What was with her tonight? He had never seen her like this before. She was one of the gentlest persons he had ever known. This sudden other side of her shocked him. Slowly, he turned around and left, his shoulders drooping.
Wolf knew he had to finally sound Dad. It made him feel sick. For a while, he hung back in the desolate lobby, his heart palpitating, scared and helpless and lost. But the need to sit down urgently got him shuffling back to his room. He needed to collect himself first.
Where in hell could she have gone? How can she disappear into thin air, as if by magic? It was so bizarre...just didn’t make sense. He halted at the door of his room and rested his forehead on the wood. What am I going to tell Dad? He could feel his scalp prickling.
“Do not put me in a difficult position, Wolf, please,” he heard Dad’s voice again. Then he also heard the unsaid words, “Perhaps I should not have listened to your brother in the first place. However innocuous the matter may be, it is not good to bend rules like this. Honestly, I was never for it. But Art was so insistent. Perhaps, Robin should not visit us again before she is legally adopted by you.” And for the first time ever, Wolf was scared of Dad. Truly scared.
At length, he pushed open the door to his bedroom and stepped in.
She was there, on the bed, reading
Wolf could say nothing. He checked the other rooms (Art hadn’t returned yet and Rochelle wasn’t in her bedroom), all the rooms—under tables, under chairs, behind doors, the lofts... There were a zillion hiding places in the big house. But finally certain she wasn’t in the east wing, he went to the other side.
He found Rochelle in the Great Room, fiddling with a cabinet.
“Ah, so that’s what it is,” he grinned. “ You are hiding her, yah? Admit.”
“What are you yapping about?” she scowled, turning on him.
“Robin. The two of you have ganged up on me, haven’t you? But it’s time to quit. Dad’s getting hyper and...”
She cut him short. “Look, I don’t have the frigging time to play your stupid games. Understand?” And she walked out of the room in a huff, leaving Wolf staring at her back.
He recommenced his search. Finishing with the rooms on the west wing, he went up to the terrace. It was a long place, with profuse rose and cacti pots, among other things. She wasn’t here either. He came back down. Out on the front porch, Bruno came wagging his tail. Wolf gave him a little pat on the head.
“Hey, buddy, why don’t you go find Robin for me, eh?”
The big Alsatian immediately darted down the porch steps and headed westward, as if he knew exactly what was needed of him.
But ten minutes on, he announced failure. Dews of perspiration dotting his brow, Wolf quietly summoned the servants.
Fourteen men spread out and trampled the property, as quietly as they could, for Wolf didn’t want to rouse Dad now. What would he tell him—that she had just vanished...that he had allowed her to vanish? Though Art was the original instigator, it was finally on Grant’s word that they allowed Robin to come to Butcher Garden every weekend.
They searched, and searched, but the girl was nowhere, and finally the hunters returned to their pens.
Wolf sat on the top step of the front porch and held his head in his hands. His mind wasn’t functioning anymore. He sat for about five minutes before restlessness got him to his feet once more. He couldn’t afford idleness. Instinctively, he sought Rochelle again, like a fawn seeking mother doe.
Light filtered through from under her bedroom door and he rapped. He heard a grunt of annoyance, then Rochelle answered the door.
“Are you sure you haven’t seen Robin?” he inquired hopefully.
Her eyes flashed. “Didn’t you hear me the first time around?” she barked.
Wolf gawked at her. What was with her tonight? He had never seen her like this before. She was one of the gentlest persons he had ever known. This sudden other side of her shocked him. Slowly, he turned around and left, his shoulders drooping.
Wolf knew he had to finally sound Dad. It made him feel sick. For a while, he hung back in the desolate lobby, his heart palpitating, scared and helpless and lost. But the need to sit down urgently got him shuffling back to his room. He needed to collect himself first.
Where in hell could she have gone? How can she disappear into thin air, as if by magic? It was so bizarre...just didn’t make sense. He halted at the door of his room and rested his forehead on the wood. What am I going to tell Dad? He could feel his scalp prickling.
“Do not put me in a difficult position, Wolf, please,” he heard Dad’s voice again. Then he also heard the unsaid words, “Perhaps I should not have listened to your brother in the first place. However innocuous the matter may be, it is not good to bend rules like this. Honestly, I was never for it. But Art was so insistent. Perhaps, Robin should not visit us again before she is legally adopted by you.” And for the first time ever, Wolf was scared of Dad. Truly scared.
At length, he pushed open the door to his bedroom and stepped in.
She was there, on the bed, reading
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