Bear Me Away (Alpha Werebear Paranormal Romance) (A Jamesburg Shifter Romance) (7 page)

“I think I realized how much I need it the second I saw him,” Elena said. “That’s what’s scaring me so bad.”

Paul nodded when she looked up, but he didn’t say anything else. He knew she’d work through it in her mind, it would just take some time. He couldn’t force this, just like he couldn’t force anything to do with Elena. He gave up trying to make her mind up for her after she fought him for eight months about the name of this place. She wanted to call it “AADETECTIVE” because that would mean it would be first in the phone book.

He tried, unsuccessfully, to point out that first of all no one looked things up in the phone book anymore. Second of all? There was only one private detective agency in Jamesburg. Or at least there was only the one when they first opened. Now there were two others, but both were two-bit operations at best, part time hobbies for nine-to-fivers who wanted a little adventure in their lives; hell, one of them even hunted ghosts. Even in Jamesburg, ghost busting was best left for movies.

Paul laughed bitterly, imagining how boring life would have to be before a six-hour stakeout in a dumpster behind an office building to catch someone getting a little tail on the side would be seen as adventurous.

“Report, Detective Jorgenson advises that the scene is as reported – the suspect is not present. Detective Jorgenson informs that the scene should be considered,”
the voice fuzzed out, like the dispatcher took her finger off the talk button.
“Scene should be considered closed. There’s no suspect... er... suspected. All hyenas on scene return to patrol unless further notified.”

A chorus of ten-fours followed, with only one of the officers voicing doubt about what he’d been told.
“Somethin’ ain’t right, Delilah,”
he said. Delilah was the dispatcher’s name. She always worked day shift, except when her kid was sick, in which case she switched for the three to eleven. The things you learn about people when you listen to them talk all day can be amazing.

A few seconds later, her voice crackled back into the foreground.
“Copy that, five-two-four. Anything particular that makes you say that? I’ll send a message to the detective in charge.”

“
Nah, not really,
” he said. “
Jes’... one of those feelin’s you get after you been on the job a long time. There’s too much chaos here for it to have been a deer or a moose or anything else. Somebody did this on purpose. There was a bit-up carrot. Craziest damn thing. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much, but, there it is.”

His ‘s’ whistled, and with his accent, it sounded like he said ‘porpoise’ instead of ‘purpose’ but Paul and Elena exchanged a glance. An entire police force and none of them noticed the carrot except for this guy.

“He should get a promotion,” Paul said.

“We should get the hell down there,” Elena said. “If they’re calling off the hyenas, we got a few hours before dark.”

“You never stop thinking, huh?” Paul said, grinning as he gathered his coat. “But you’re right. You sure this is related?”

Elena snorted in that way she had. “Hmm... maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s nothing. Randomly destroyed garden, giant mess, no actual reason for it? Or at least none that we know of? Yeah you’re right. Probably nothing.”

The grin on her face told Paul that even with her slight crisis of identity, the fox he trusted more than anyone in the world was right there with him. “Let’s go,” she said. “Maybe I’ll celebrate by calling the bear if we find anything.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Paul said. “But I’d rather you date that vampire judge, Rawls. That way you can convince him not to make me waste a week on jury duty.”

Elena shot him a wry grin. “Sure,” she said. “Make him a bear and we have a deal.”

*

T
he place they arrived a half hour after shutting the office door was much stranger than the others they’d investigated, or seen on the news. This was a huge operation, far more than West’s five acre organic farm, or the tiny lot Whit Whitman dismissed as deer damage.

But, even with the massive scale of the field, there wasn’t much to see that Elena and Paul hadn’t seen before. “This ain’t a farm,” Paul said, stepping out of the old Buick and onto a carrot top that had been ground into pulp.

Elena was nodding. “This is industrial.”

The Jamesburg Cannery Fields sign hung askance, dangling off the metal frame and swaying in the breeze. They were far enough from the road that only the barest noise reached them, but when Elena perked her fox ears, she could hear clearly anything coming or going.

Paul sniffed the air, and then one of the carrot stubs. “She’s been here,” he said. “And not too long ago. I’d know rabbit anywhere.”

“That’s a little creepy,” Elena said, patting her partner on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you had a rabbit fetish.”

He shot her a side-eyed glare. “Anyways,” Paul said. “You start at that end, I guess. This is a hell of a field to cover. I hope we find whatever we’re looking for sooner than later. I don’t much care for sitting around here in the dark trying to find clues with a flashlight.”

Elena nodded, more than slightly stunned at the enormity of the undertaking in front of her, and crouched down.
When the going gets tough
, she thought as the red fur slid out of her pores and she shuffled out of her now-too-big jeans,
the tough turn into animals
.

This was a trick she pulled out every now and then, but only when it came to desperate measures. Paul was stalking slowly down the eastern fence, so she took the west-leading one. With her head to the ground, not a single particle of scent nor stray hair, clump of dirt, or anything else out of place, would escape unnoticed.

Trekking along the huge chain link fence, she made her way to a corner and then turned north. There was just nothing to find, though. She completed her part of the perimeter with nothing to show for it except a bunch of carrot juice on her paws and a dirty nose. Paul finished his round shortly after.

“Anything?” he asked, looking down. She shook her head.

Her neck ached from being craned. Her feet stung from plodding over the hard, broken ground and the surprisingly rough carrot mess. From the road, she heard a car approach more slowly than it should have been.

When she stiffened, it caught Paul’s attention. “You hear something?” he called.

Elena nodded and jerked her head back toward the road. “Aw, shit,” Paul swore. “The car’s back there anyway. If anyone comes, we’re caught.” She shook her head and slunk back to her clothes. As she stood, human again, she had to pull her collar the rest of the way over her head, and she’d crammed two legs into a single side of her jeans.

“That’s a neat trick,” Paul said with a grin. “If you can shove both your legs through one pants leg, you need to eat more.”

Elena smiled, and opened her mouth to respond when the lights swept through the field. Both of them, instinctively, closed their eyes tight. “We’re fucked aren’t we?” Paul asked. Elena shrugged.

There was no point to hiding, and anyway, they
did
have a legitimate reason to be at this place. The crime scene was closed, so technically all they were doing was trespassing. Both of them moved to either side of the entryway, pulling into the shadows. “What are you thinking, El?” Paul hissed. “They comin’ in?”

“Shh!” Elena shot back, as she waved her hand for him to shut up.

The hyena climbed out of his car, bracing his back with one hand, and twisted back and forth. “Anybody in there?” he called toward the Buick. “Hello?” he tapped the windows with the butt of his Maglite, but for some reason didn’t call in the plate. Elena cocked her head as she watched.

With his hands hitched into his belt, the lanky deputy began slowly sauntering toward the gate. As he approached, he put one hand on his gun, and flicked the button open with his thumb. “If anyone’s here, let me know. I’m nervous when it’s dark.”

Elena took a deep breath and let it out slowly, silently. “Elena St. Claire,” she said. “Paul St. George,” Paul added. “We have a job out here, or... rather, we have a client.”

“Step out,” the officer said. As they both made themselves visible, he relaxed and let his hand leave his gun. “You two? You’re the Saints, right? The dicks?”

“Well that’s a little forward, don’tcha think?” Paul said, grinning slightly. “How the hell are you, Ralph?”

“You’re five-twenty-four from the radio?” Elena asked. “We heard you argue with the dispatcher.”

“Not the dispatcher, but the detective in charge. He’s convinced this is deer, but, let’s get real, Paul. When’s the last time you two saw a deer do... that?”

Elena and Paul both nodded in sync. “You two know each other?” Elena asked.

“Oh right. Ralph Mack, this is Elena St. Claire. She’s the other Saint. In a manner of speaking.”

Elena and Ralph shook hands, which is when he realized she was standing there with no shoes on, and had gotten orange goo all over his hands. “I use my hyena nose all the time,” he said with a grin. “Weirds out some of the others, but I figure if you got it, may as well use it. Anyway, did you two find anything out here? Wait, you said you have a client?”

“Nope,” Elena said curtly. “Client confidentiality. We can’t share anything.”

Ralph shrugged. “I could take you in for trespassing, I guess.”

Rolling her eyes, Elena sighed heavily. “Fine, but no details.”

The three talked over the weirdness of the case – the garden rampages, the carrots left sticking in the ground, and most importantly, the massive incisor mark in said carrot. When Paul and Elena finished laying it out, Ralph looked stupefied.

“Why didn’t anyone call us before?”

“I guess the answer is right in front of you. A field of carnage, blamed on a deer,” Elena said. “We took a molding of the teeth, it’s definitely a rabbit. But, there’s one problem.”

“Yeah?” Ralph stuck his hands slightly down the back of his pants, kneading his lumbar. “No leads?”

“No leads,” Elena confirmed. “Going on two weeks prodding at this case, and I’m about out of patience. And I’m for sure running out of time.”

Ralph grunted. “I might have something for you.”

He produced an evidence bag that was far more official than a Ziploc with marker label. Elena reached for it momentarily before thinking better of unconditionally accepting the bag. “Wait a minute, why are you helping us? Isn’t this sort of illegal?”

Ralph shrugged one shoulder. “Out here? The law’s more a suggestion than a hard and fast rule. And besides, Lieutenant Jorgenson already vetoed this being a case. I know it is, you know it is, but there’s some major dramatic play going on in the department. Sheriff on down, no one wants to be saddled with unsolved cases, so things are getting overlooked.”

Paul grabbed the evidence bag before Elena could ask anything else. “What is this?”

Pushing it against his friend’s chest, Ralph told him to wait, and look later. “Small stuff,” he said. “Take it back to the office and take a look there. It’s little scraps of paper, weird, vague threats. There’s nothing to really link those with these garden rampages, but... well, you’ll see. It’s hard to believe they
aren’t
related. I was coming out here to see if I could make the whole thing fit and then maybe pitch the case to Jorgenson again, but if you two are working it, I’d rather see it solved than mired in a bunch of department bullshit.”

“Thanks, Ralph,” Paul said, clapping his friend on the arm. “We’ll get on it.”

Ralph bid his goodbyes and spun his tires for a second before he made a dramatic exit. Elena and Paul sat in the front seat of the Buick, waiting for a moment in the extremely unlikely event anyone was watching the road. As soon as paranoia was satisfied, Paul turned the ignition and backed onto the pavement.

The Saints sat in silence for a moment before Elena finally spoke. “So, a friend on the force? How’d you manage that one? What other grave secrets do you keep?”

Paul shrugged. “I met him at the VFW. And before you say anything about how I’ve never been in a foreign war, that is true – but I
do
know where to go for cheap beer and good conversation.”

“Okay, well, fine. But what else are you holding back on?”

He pinched up his mouth, thinking hard. “Well there’s really only one thing I can think of you might not know about me, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know quite how to tell you this, El,” Paul said. “It’s... it’s a hard secret to admit, but I guess I should come clean. I mean, you’re my best friend, after all. My partner in crime and all that.”

“I am presently waiting for you to deliver the punchline to this shitty joke,” Elena said, grinning slightly.

“My terrible secret, which you are presently belittling by saying things like that, is not a joke at all.”

“Oh, okay, well I apologize from the bottom of my heart—”

“I,” Paul said, dramatically interrupting. “Am actually a woman.”

Elena let out a long sigh, followed by a groan.

Paul, for his part, laughed wildly at his own joke.

––––––––

S
weat ran down the sides of Elena’s face. Overhead, as she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling and watching time tick by, the fan
whop-whop-whopped
in the hypnotic rhythm that sometimes put her to sleep and sometimes kept her awake.

She kicked off the sheet – she liked having it just for the weight, not for the warmth – and moaned softly as the air from above cooled the moisture on her skin. She clenched her eyes and wished for once she could get West out of her mind. But for that to happen, she knew what she’d need. Elena couldn’t handle the complication. She didn’t want to miss another chance at love, but she also didn’t want to get distracted, fall head over heels, and screw up the biggest case of her career.

Like I haven’t fallen already
, she thought, chewing her lip. The eleven projected on the ceiling ticked over to twelve. When she closed her eyes again, fully aware sleep wasn’t coming, the only thought in her mind was of the way his huge hand brushed against hers; of the heat that emanated from his palm and penetrated her shoulder, warming her to the bone. Even if she wasn’t going to sleep, at least she’d gone to bed before three.