Bear Meets Bride (Online Shifter Dating Agency Romance) (6 page)

8

The rest of the day and night since the fourth killing—another bloody mess—was pure chaos. Questions, dilemmas and fears coming at Tom from all angles, which only allowed him a few hours of respite well after midnight to get home and hit the sack before it started all over again. If only there was less paperwork, maybe he could get around to thinking about who or where this psychopath might be hiding...when not savaging people in the woodlands, of course. Maybe he could even offer more of his ‘bear shifter insight’, for what that was worth, though he insisted time and time again that the killer should be viewed as an unhinged human being, not as a mad bear.

He had received an apology from the two underlings who had been whispering suspicious things about bear shifters in general, though that was partly thanks to Jake’s help. It had seemed sincere, and Tom hadn’t taken it too personally in the end, knowing that the two youngsters had never dealt with a crime of this kind and that they were inclined to feel a little nervous walking through a forest that was, after all, bear territory. Maybe they just needed to get to know him a little better, to see his sincerity, before relaxing in his company, but Tom knew they weren’t really the problem.

No, the problem was that the same whisperings were going on throughout Montana, if not the whole of the US, and would continue to be on people’s lips until the killer could be brought to justice. The hope of shifters everywhere had to be that there was some reason unrelated to animal savagery that was causing the murders, or else shifter–human relations would take a real turn for the worse. These killings were spitting in the face of enlightenment, and if they went on much longer, Tom would find an angry mob outside of his own front door someday. Or else be told to go and live in the woods and catch salmon for as long as he could avoid the hunter’s gun.

As if matters couldn’t get more complicated, Tom had completely neglected to keep an eye on the weather reports and, although not yet November, the following morning saw the start of the first major snowstorm since last winter. The snows in Montana were unpredictable, and he had noticed a chill on the breeze during their walk back from the murder site the previous day, but he hadn’t expected thick snow so soon. All of which meant that police resources would be spread ever thinner as the days wore on and all manner of silly or unfortunate incidences drew their attention.

There were still numerous matters to oversee regarding the fourth victim, including finding a way to identify him, but frustratingly conditions were set to work against them sooner than he hoped, which became clear when Jake burst into the office and declared that there had been a big pile-up on the nearby highway, and that everyone needed to look to their
own
wits to make sure things went smoothly. Tom didn’t understand this last comment, given that Jake was always stressing the importance of ‘teamwork’ until, on his way out, he noticed that Nana was not at her dispatch desk to bid them all good luck, as was her usual way. More alarmingly, though, was the fact that her computer wasn’t turned on and there was no sign of a coat or handbag. Their own wits were essential when they couldn’t rely on Nana’s.

“Is Nana ill or something?” he asked one of the younger officers, understanding that they wouldn’t be receiving the same level of assistance as usual when it came to conversing with ambulance crews and road maintenance.

“We’re still trying to get hold of her,” the officer replied.

“What do you mean? No one’s heard from her?”

“Not yet, no,” was the response.

Tom continued on his way out towards his vehicle, but this last development refused to lie down in his mind. Part of the job was always to endeavor as robust a public services as possible whenever circumstance happened to be against you—and losing Nana was a big loss from operations. He knew her as well as any of his colleagues, however, and could just not imagine her failing to call in if she was unwell. Nana was so organized, she would’ve been preparing backup plans from the very moment she suspected a bug or virus might be endeavoring to get the better of her.

Other than having found a wonderful woman who was as good in bed as she was at baking cakes, the last few weeks seemed to have been trying to turn Tom’s world upside down. He didn’t trust luck or fate anymore and, although it was only a short distance to the scene of the pile-up, there was enough time to make a worst-case scenario phone call that he didn’t want to regret not making later—even if it might be alarmist.

Being a bit of a hi-tech wiz went in his favor in making this so, in having a Sat-Nav wired up to his car that, like his cell phone, had voice recognition software. Thankfully the snowfall hadn’t affected internet access and, within twenty seconds, he had requested a search for Cold Lake Hospital’s phone number and then requested it be dialed.

Announcing that he was the police was useful in providing him with a quick transfer to the hospital’s most useful department, to whom keeping good contacts with would usually have been Nana’s territory, and Tom was soon able to ask if there had been any women recently admitted unidentified or otherwise. It turned out there had been two admittances, one of whom might have been called something like ‘Nana’, though the woman who answered the call didn’t seem sure.

As a result, Tom knew he had found her there and then, but what on earth had happened? That they weren’t sure of her identity was utterly bizarre, suggesting that the most organized person he knew had been found outside without ID. Even more disturbing was her condition, however. Although stable, she was described as incoherent, badly beaten and with something like claw marks on her skin.

Tom nearly slammed on the brakes and spun his vehicle around there and then. This case was becoming personal, as well as continuing to escalate in its number of victims. If this was the work of the bear shifter again, then its bloodlust must have been out of control and they would soon be finding bodies everywhere, but he couldn’t be sure without visiting her. That anyone could survive such an attack was unlikely, so it might have been that something else strange had occurred.

Not that he was going to take any chances; he would go and see for himself.

Cursing his morning routine for failing to take advantage of the coffee machine, Tom had just enough discipline to reach the highway incident and give Jake a briefing before heading off to the hospital. The scene was a mess, though fortunately there were no casualties, but Tom still had to be insistent with the sheriff that his departure was necessary, even swearing to suffer the consequences if he was mistaken.

“If this is the killer again, then someone needs to be on it,” he urged. “This distraction could work right into his hands. I’ll take whatever fallout comes down from on high if they disagree.”

Jake’s initial response to the Nana situation was to prefer calling in an old favor from a neighboring force to go and check on her, but after hearing Tom’s suspicions that it might be related to the killer bear shifter, he conceded to letting him go. The look on Jake’s face told Tom that his boss was starting to worry he was taking the case too seriously, but he took his escape anyway and sped off as fast as the snow would allow him.

***

Visiting a hospital should’ve felt a whole lot better than another laboratory table sporting a dismembered corpse, but Tom took little pleasure from this, though not in the way Jake was suspecting. He was taking this case more and more personally, and his apprehension over what it could all lead to was quickly being replaced by anger.

Nana was one of the most thoughtful and inoffensive people you could ever hope to meet, and thinking of her as a target for this poor excuse of a shifter, or any criminal for that matter, reminded him of why he had chosen to become a cop in the first place: to protect good and innocent folk.

He found her still in the emergency ward and was relieved to find that the effects of her attack were mostly psychological. There were no scars on her face to ruin the wedding photos, with the only claw marks being on her right shoulder and upper chest. The nurse told him that she was semi-coherent now and improving fast, though he was advised to go steady on the questioning and not to cause her distress—she had suffered some shock as well as being found shivering in the cold without any outdoor clothing. In addition to the claw marks, the team had found bruising to her ribs and a lump on the back of the head that were typical of a physical beating.

When first left alone with her, Tom could not find the words to begin. Nana had her eyes closed and gave no sign that she had heard any of the exchange with the nurse or that she knew a friend and colleague was present. Would she start to hate him for being a bear shifter now too? The thought was distressing, but he contained his emotions.

“Nana,” he said gently, then waited patiently for her to come round, seeing that her brows raised slightly at the sound of his voice.

“Is that you, Tom?” she asked, uncertain, being without her glasses as well as suffering a concussion.

“It’s me, Nana,” he replied, not quite avoiding a shaky tone to his voice. “You’re giving us quite a scare. Don’t you know this place will go to the dogs without you?”

“Tom, I…I don’t think they understood what I was telling them.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “Can you remember it clearly?”

“I can…I’m tired and don’t think I could stand without falling, but I know what happened.”

“Was it the bear shifter?”

“Yes, but he was in his human form. I heard him gaining access to the house but he attacked before I could dial 911.”

“He broke in? Are you sure?”

This wasn’t what he was expecting. So far the killer had lain in wait for lone walkers and attacked in bear form. Going to the trouble of breaking into someone’s house in order to find a victim suggested a more extreme level of desperation that didn’t make much sense—unless he had targeted Nana for a strategic reason.

“Did he…did he try to molest you at all?” Tom asked, wondering if there had been other motivations for entering the home.

“No,” Nana replied, “he just grabbed me and started to shift into his bear form straight away. So he could kill me—I could tell, he had bloodlust in his eyes—but my jewelry Tom… my silver jewelry.”

“It stopped him?”

“It burned him, though I didn’t understand it at the time. My necklace saved me; steam got in his eyes. He let go but then couldn’t see me. I got out, but…but he was thrashing about like a crazy thing, going from man to bear. I remember the pain in my ribs but don’t remember anything after that, though they say they found me outside.”

“Thank god you got out,” Tom said, looking to calm her from becoming too upset. In his experience, it was not unusual for a patient with concussion to forget crucial memories; all that mattered was that her survival instincts had been strong enough to get her out of there, even though the head injury meant she could not remember doing so.

“I’ll need to see your place, but I’ll make sure there’s a guard here for you before I go—so you can sleep sound.”

“Thanks.”

“Anyway, before I go…you said you saw him. I know you’ve got a concussion, but can you remember any details about him that you can tell me?”

She nodded. “I think I could identify him if I saw him again. He was tall, big as well, but with fair blond hair…unusually fair. That’s how you can find him.”

A description at last. It was a real step forward, though Tom wished it hadn’t taken an attack on a friend to get them that far. There would be a way to catch him now for sure—but how long would it take, and how many more bodies?

Why the killer had decided to go out of his way to attack Nana would need some attention, however. The emergence of a motive other than the joy of killing was alarming, especially when the intended victim was a valuable player in running the services that would catch him.

Maybe this fair-haired killer was a vindictive racist and was suddenly deciding to kill anyone he didn’t like (though racism would be strange in a shifter)—or, just maybe, there was some kind of sick strategy at work and a battle of wits was underway.

Tom had never experienced crimes turning into some kind of sick game before, and he didn’t like the idea of being a player in bringing such an amusement to a satisfying conclusion.

Not one bit.

9

Though having spent most of the last two days dreaming about when they would next be together, Erin’s joy at seeing Tom enter the bakery as closing time was approaching had to be tempered with an appreciation that he looked like a man in turmoil. If her new boyfriend’s typical behavior was inclined towards stress and busy-ness, then his appearing red-faced and with bloodshot eyes would’ve been normal, but he was the laid-back and coolheaded type, so seeing him looking as if he was resisting tearing the door off its hinges on the way in was a real shock.

“
Tom
! My God, what’s wrong?” she asked, rounding the counter and running across to embrace him.

“Erin!” he said before embracing her like a child that had found its favorite cuddly toy after fearing it had been forever lost.

“You okay?”

“Day from hell!” he confessed, rubbing his eyes as if trying to wake up from a nightmare.

“Was it the highway smash-up?” she asked. “I thought no one was badly hurt.”

“That’s the least of our problems,” he told her, gladly accepting a chair she had kindly pulled up for him. “You know Nana Morgan?”

“Yes, she was in here yesterday buying coffee and muffins.”

“She was attacked last night by the serial killer. She’s alive, but still…”

Erin’s hand flew to her mouth. “Really?”

“In her own home and everything. We’ve been trying all day to figure out why she was targeted.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah, she’s under guard in the hospital. Concussed, but she’ll be out in a few days.”

“You look exhausted.”

“The whole place is on alert. We’ve been trying to figure out where he’s going to strike next. The experts think he’s sick and the attacks are escalating so much that no one’s safe.”

“I’ve never known anything like this around here,” Erin replied.

“Erin, what are you thinking?” Tom asked, suddenly looking around him and observing that the last two customers of the day were in the process of driving away. “You can’t be hanging around late at night locking this place up anymore. I know there’s the main road there, but that won’t stop this bastard. Please, you’re going to have to be very cautious with this kind of thing until this all dies down.”

“Okay, you’re right,” she said with a nod. “I’m sure you’ll catch him soon, and then you can get a good night’s rest. Listen, I’ve got a couple of things to wrap up in the kitchen, then why don’t we head off to mine and pour a glass or two?”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” he replied. “I’m sorry, Erin, I wanted our first days together to be full of nothing but happy memories.”

“And they are, Tom! Do I look unhappy to you?” she insisted. “We’re not responsible for the evils going on in the world.”

Seeing him manage a bit of a smile at last, Erin hoped that her words were offering some comfort, and she left him there to make sure everything was switched off and put away. Suddenly the challenges of running her own business seemed light against the task of tracking down a serial killer who was threatening to strike again at any minute. Tom was clearly being put though all kinds of rigors with this case, some of which she did not yet understand, though mostly she was just pleased that he had come to confide in her rather than going home instead to collapse on his own bed.

“Do you know why he attacked poor Nana?” she called out from the kitchen but, on turning round, found that Tom had in fact followed her there, deciding he couldn’t be without her for too long.

“We’re looking into it,” he told her. “To be honest, though, can we talk about something else for a while? I just think my brain will explode if it isn’t allowed to think about something else for a couple of hours.”

“Sure thing,” she replied, “that way your thoughts will be renewed when you come back to it. Why don’t you think about me instead—if I’m worth thinking about?”

Erin mimicked a sad face, alluding to the lovemaking they’d had and pretending to make him feel a little guilty that he hadn’t been thinking about that instead for the last forty-eight hours, rather than being obsessed with some serial killer. Tom smiled and then stepped up to put his arms around her.

“You know, seeing you again is like being reunited with my own sanity,” he said, then reached down and planted a kiss on her lips.

Erin had been holding a kettle in her hands, which she then sought blindly to discard on the work surface so she could reciprocate and put her arms around him in return. Passion grew between them as their senses recalled shared pleasures of the flesh, and Erin had to reach out once more in order to push the kettle out of the way when she realized Tom had undone and slid her jeans and panties down as far as her cowboy boots would let them. Managing to avoid either of them getting burnt in the process, Erin then allowed Tom to lift her up onto the same work surface, her legs wrapped around him as much as she could as he unzipped his own jeans and thrust inside her, hard and fast.

It was slightly awkward, slightly clumsy and fiendish… but that was what was so good about it. However inconvenient her kitchen was for screwing, it was going to be overcome anyway by their desire. Erin felt unbalanced, but Tom was so strong that it was okay.

Packing everything away had usually marked the hour when she began to feel lonely and long for love and attention. Now her ideal man had turned up and she knew it would be a long time before being taken spontaneously by him, wherever they might be, became inconvenient.
Let everything else take second place, as long as he doesn’t burn your ass on the cooker,
she thought as an orgasm built within her core.

Only once he’d reached his own climax did they open their eyes and look at each other properly. Life had returned to Tom’s eyes, and his color looked healthier too.

“You were supposed to slap my wrist and tell me to wait until we got back to your place,” he said.

“Cat got my tongue,” she replied.

“Don’t worry though,” he assured her, “there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Then, if you can bear to keep your hands off me for twenty minutes, let’s get home and pick this up again….”

***

Now decorated with a full blanket of snow, Cold Lake was still and quiet, perhaps due to people sheltering inside from the freezing wind, but also out of fear and uncertainty. There was a killer on the loose, and no one was untouched by the shadow his presence cast.

Dark times also bring people together, however—friends, families and lovers. Young love was no different in this respect, and Erin took great comfort in having met Tom during such a dark time for the community. Whatever happened, she was sure he would protect her and, as strong as he was—and armed as well—she even fancied it would be him that brought this sicko down. Also, knowing how affected he was by the killings, she made a promise not to hold him back for fear of losing him. The thought was too terrible to imagine, but it was obvious that fixing this was something he needed to do for himself and that he wouldn’t be able to move on until it was mission accomplished.

Despite being his girlfriend now, she still felt a little divorced from the whole story, however. So many nasty and vindictive acts were reported on the news that, for some reason, encountering a local version going on in close proximity still felt like just another news story. A very small percentage of people would be directly affected by it and, although she was now sleeping with one of the key officers on the case, it would still be something she heard about when he came home from work, rather than directly experiencing it in her own life.

Or at least this was what she thought until they got to her place, and she turned around after putting her key in the door to see Tom wandering away and lingering to peer at something round the side of the property.

“You see a raccoon or something?” she asked.

Tom didn’t respond straight away, pausing before taking another step then stopping again to say ‘Stay close to me’ and continuing to walk in the opposite direction to the different style of Italian cuisine she was planning on giving him on the couch just a few feet away.

Following to see what drew him, Erin found that she would have to redefine her own connection with the wider world upon seeing that her lover was looking at bear tracks.

Oh god…

What followed made what cops did in the movies look pretty accurate, meaning it felt pretty surreal to Erin, but the cold focus and poise of Tom ensured that she was now also taking the discovery deadly seriously. Although the tracks were leading away from the house, Tom insisted he go first and check the interior anyway, telling her to keep close behind and close the door after her. With his gun drawn, Tom then proceeded to check every room and window of the house, at last concluding that there had not been a break-in. Having him present to establish this brought some relief, but Erin’s nerves were still fraught at knowing there had been a bear in the vicinity, and it was clear that Tom was not thinking this to be some coincidental crossing of paths with a wild bear—out near the bakery maybe, but not so far into Cold Lake.

Tom didn’t stop there, and he told Erin to stay inside and keep the doors locked. He then disappeared for ten minutes to check out the trail, before returning to confirm that where they led was inconclusive.

A sex-athon after that proved a little out of the question. There were important questions to answer, and Tom was insistent that he should stand guard all night, regardless of how much Erin advised him he would do better with some sleep. Instead, the night was far more laid-back.

Erin thought for a while to try and calm Tom’s wariness with a movie, but anything she had was either distinctly girly or had cops in it, and so she concluded would be too close to home. In the end they cuddled up together on the sofa and drifted off to sleep. As long as she was in his arms, Erin knew she wouldn’t have nightmares about savage bears and what they were capable of.

Fangs and claws were a long way away, and Tom was there to protect her even if they somehow arrived.