Wild Action Read Online Free PDF

add a few extra wrinkles during the shooting.”
    “Or maybe a lot of extra wrinkles? I mean, it doesn’t exactly sound like a box office smash.”
    “Let’s just hope it is, because Gus held out for a small percentage of the profits.”
    “Oh? How small?”
    She held up her hand with her thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart
    “Oh,” Nick said, looking disappointed.
    “He did really well to get anything. In any event, the movie might turn out to be a lot better than the story line sounds. I’ve read the script, and there’s pretty good adventure and drama, what with the boys in a woods full of wild animals.”
    “And Attila’s one of the wild animals?”
    She nodded but didn’t elaborate. It really would be better to leave any further discussion of that until later.
    “We’re almost home,” she said, pointing toward the township sign and changing the subject.
    “Township of Scugog,” Nick read aloud.
    “In Ojibway, it means ‘muddy, shallow water.’”
    “Ahh.”
    When he seemed content to simply watch the passing scenery for the remainder of the trip, Carly let her thoughts drift back to the meeting in Brown’s office. Nick had taken the bad news a lot more coolly thanshe would have. But she had a horrible feeling he wasn’t going to be even half as cool when it came to Attila.
    Turning onto the Sixth Line, she decided it might be smart to give her new partner four or five drinks of Gus’s best Scotch before they talked about Attila.
    W HEN THEY TURNED ONTO the gravel road that Carly said led to the house, Nick could see she hadn’t been joking about a lot of their property being forest.
    Huge trees overhung the road on either side, with only the hydro poles and power lines to indicate this wasn’t really the middle of nowhere. Then the road curved and they were at one edge of a fifteen-or twenty-acre clearing with the house ahead in the distance.
    Built of gorgeous old fieldstone, it had white gingerbread trim on both the second-story gables and the overhang of the porch. He was just about to comment on how nice it was when four large gray blurs appeared from nowhere and streaked toward the van.
    “Wolves?” he said anxiously. “You didn’t tell me we had wolves.”
    “We don’t. Those are the dogs. We took them because they looked so much like gray wolves, even as pups, but they’re actually half husky and half malamute.
    “They’re perfectly safe. They don’t even bother the rabbits,” she added, giving him an amused glance as she pulled the van to a stop. “Their names are Harpo, Chico, Groucho and Zeppo. Collectively, of course, we refer to them as the Marx brothers.”
    And Uncle Gus, Nick remembered someone once mentioning, had been a huge Marx brothers fan.
    “I said we, didn’t I?” Carly murmured with a sad little smile. “I wonder how long it’ll take before I stop doing that.”
    She got out of the van and hugged each of the dogs in turn. Then they rushed around to the passenger’s side and stood eyeing Nick through the window— drooling as if they were looking at lunch.
    Checking them out from up close, he wondered if Carly was certain they weren’t at least part wolf. They were one hell of a size, and he’d never seen any other dogs with those sinister-looking yellow eyes.
    Telling himself they weren’t a whole lot bigger than the German shepherds the police used, he opened his door and climbed out—the heat and humidity hitting him hard.
    It had been hot in Alberta, but that was a dry heat. Ontario was at least as hot and sixty times more humid.
    He cautiously extended his hand and let the dogs sniff it. Despite their appearance, they seemed friendly enough, so he risked taking his eyes off them long enough to get his suitcase and jacket from the back.
    “I thought Dylan might still be here, but his truck’s gone,” Carly said. “The high school kid who’s been helping out,” she explained.
    Nick nodded, then gestured toward the wooden building