Bear Trapped (Bear Creek Grizzlies #5)
1. Finn
FINN
“ A nd then Courtney said she wasn’t going to invite Stacy P. to her birthday party, even though Stacy P. invited Courtney to her sleepover just two weeks ago, so Amelia said she wasn’t going to even talk to Courtney until…”
Finn listened with only half his attention as Francine, an adopted daughter for the whole bear clan, rambled on about the latest middle school drama that occupied most of her brain most of the time. He didn’t have sisters and had never spent much time around girls that age since he was that age. And since he’d been an awkward little shit until he was in his mid-twenties, he’d never figured out how to talk to girls. Or women. He rested his elbows on the fender of the old truck he’d inherited after Cooper and his mate, Francine’s cousin Jada, flew off on an extended holiday to Europe. The starter was acting up and no amount of tinkering so far had made a difference.
He glanced over as Franny took a deep breath to continue on the saga of Courtney and Stacy P., and wiped his hands on a rag as he stretched his back. “Did you finish your math homework already?”
She made a face and, and an aggravated noise at the same time. “I was going to FaceTime with Stacy to do our algebra but she’s too upset by what Courtney said and won’t answer my messages, and since I forgot my book, I can’t…”
The story went on and Finn nodded along, though he couldn’t hold back a tiny smile. His bear, an unruly Kodiak who felt more at home in the woods than he’d ever been under a roof, stayed quiet and fascinated when the young ones were around, although anytime they were upset or scared, he about lost his mind. Francine talked a mile a minute and had crazy mood swings, but he could usually distract her with one of the kittens congregating around the house or chocolate or Noah, since Franny adored the other bear. Usually Franny followed Noah around with stars in her eyes and practically ignored everyone else. But since Noah was off leading a backcountry tour for a bunch of adventure hikers and free climbers, Franny put up with Finn as her next best bear to hang out with.
He grumbled and ducked under the hood once more. “Hand me the wrench, will you?”
She scampered up and pulled the tools out of the box on the porch, still detailing what sounded like a very dramatic morning at the local school, and handed them over while peering up at him. Finn frowned at the engine and wondered if maybe the truck had finally given up the ghost. His bear started to get nervous about being tied to one place, not having an easy way to escape, and disappearing into the mountains for the rest of the winter seemed like a great idea.
His dreams bothered him more and more the longer he stayed at the Lodge, where Bear Country Tours was headquartered and the rest of his clan lived. It wasn’t anything to do with the other bears or their mates or how blissfully happy they all were. No, not that. His mouth twisted with irritation as he leaned down to check a belt. The walls were too close in and the memories clawed at him every second, and he didn’t want to flip the fuck out in the middle of Zoe’s nice living room.
Or, worse, scare the shit out of the kids if he woke up out of a nightmare as a bear and flew into a little rampage.
Finn knew his life would end pretty damn quickly in the mama bear’s claws if he scared her baby even a bit, and she’d be right to do it. Some days, Finn wished one of them would get it over with and send him on his way. He rubbed his shoulder as an old wound ached, and he checked the sky for clouds. That usually meant a storm rolling in.
It took a second to realize that he heard birds chirping. Finn looked around for Francine, suddenly terrified she’d been stolen or hurt, but she still leaned on the truck right next to him. He nudged her shoulder. “Well? What happened with Amelia?”
Francine shrugged, taken with a sudden quiet that reminded Finn she hadn’t had an easy start in life, and he probably should have paid more attention to the torrent of words. She and Jada had both been raised in what sounded like a fucked-up cult, and though Francine most of the time sounded like every kid he saw on television, she definitely wasn’t. She was also a leopard shifter, so that didn’t help with her trying to sort out her place in the world, particularly in a house full of bears. Especially since her cousin, the only other leopard shifter, was off with Cooper and wouldn’t be back for a month or so.
Finn shooed her toward the cab. “Jump up and start her for me, will you? Don’t forget the clutch.”
Her expression brightened and she scrambled to get into the driver’s seat. Just before she tried the key, his cell phone rang. Finn glanced at the screen, meaning to ignore it and get on with fixing the truck or calling the real mechanic, but hesitated when he saw the number. Shotgun wouldn’t call unless it was serious business.
Finn held up a hand to tell Franny to wait so he could answer the phone, but turned away so she wouldn’t see his face in case there was real bad news. She still got jumpy when any of the men snarled a bit too loud or started to scowl, and he didn’t want to be the asshole who ruined her night. “Shotgun. What’s up?”
The DEA agent’s rusty voice carried a New York accent, punctuated with cursing, that would have been a bit much even for a stereotypical mob movie flunkie. Finn hadn’t asked, but he kind of assumed that was where Shotgun got his start, and the cushy job out on the West coast was a retirement gig or some kind of witness protection deal. Either way, the man sucked at blending in or keeping his head down. “Finnegan, you little shit. I called you six times already and you never fuckin’ answer.”
“Funny, my phone’s been silent since the last time you called me out of the blue,” Finn said. His bear didn’t like anyone trying to push him around, even when it meant getting a job and probably heading into the kind of danger that still got his adrenaline going. “So you must be thinking of someone else.”
The DEA agent blustered and muttered, then finally came around to the actual business at hand. “I got a job but not an official job, you hear? Just need some information and none of the fuckers on my payroll can do this without looking like a bunch of heehaw lumbersexuals.”
“Lumbersexual?” Finn scratched his beard. “What the fuck is that?”
He winced as Francine whispered, “Oooooh, I’m going to tell Zoe you said a bad word,” and shot her a mock dirty look. The mama bear was adamant that everyone cleaned up their language around the kids, even though Zoe was usually the worst perpetrator of them all. Somehow she got away with breaking her own rules, but woe betide any male who pointed it out. Ethan had learned that lesson pretty damn quick.
Shotgun launched into a tirade about the young agents working for him and their unique fashion sense, coupled with their inability to even walk in the woods without looking like a “bunch of FBI cocksuckers following a capo to a strip club,” but eventually paused to inhale.
Much like Francine and her Courtney-Stacy-Amelia story. So Finn inserted himself into the conversation once more. “That’s good to know. What’s the job?”
“We’ve got a new kind of meth popping up all over the coast and it’s coming from inland, probably your neck of the woods. We can’t figure out how they’re moving it and so far no one’s rolled on the suppliers or the mules.”
Finn made a face. He really hated tracking methheads. They smelled terrible and the bear didn’t like the way they tasted, either, when he had to bite them. Give him some run-of-the-mill heroin junkies or even party girls on E and he could make things work, but meth… It was nasty business all around, and ruining communities all across Oregon. So far, it hadn’t reached Bear Creek, the closest town to the Lodge, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t close.
“We heard a rumor ,” Shotgun went on, emphasizing the word enough that Finn read the less-than-subtle hint. “Rumor” would mean he got it from an off-the-books informant, probably someone so unsavory Shotgun would never call him to the witness stand or document paying the bastard. Finn’s bear growled a bit with irritation, since he didn’t trust information from that type of guy after one too many double crosses.
The DEA agent didn’t hear it, or he didn’t care, as he continued. “They’re using the parks to move the shit. Through-hiking or some nature bullshit. Maybe disguising themselves as rangers or hunters, so they can carry weapons.”
“That’s a really inefficient way to move the amount you’re talking about,” Finn said slowly, gazing out at the forest that encroached around the Lodge. “Especially trying to get over the mountains.”
“Maybe they’re using the rivers, how the fuck do I know?” Shotgun exhaled in irritation and cursed for another minute before he drew his attention back to the drugs. “That’s what I need you for, asshole. I can’t send my guys out until we know more, since those park service pricks are asking too many questions about evidence. Maybe you go for one of those goddamn hiking trips you love so much and you stumble across a bunch of assholes with big packs and rifles and who look like methheads. You let me know and then we deal with it.”
Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. Not exactly the kind of job he looked forward to in the very early stages of fall, when snow and sleet threatened daily, since fishing expeditions were more Simon’s thing. “You got a place for me to start looking?”
“Of course I do,” Shotgun muttered. “I’ll send you what I got. What’s it going to cost me?”
He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. It always pissed Shotgun off that he couldn’t just order Finn to go run his errands and kick up evidence for an investigation, but Finn appreciated the freedom of being able to tell the man to fuck off if he didn’t like the terms. “We’ll start with what covered the last thing, up in Walla Walla, and double it. If it takes more than a week or I get shot at, double it again.”
Shotgun started shouting and making a big show of being pissed off, but Finn knew he’d pay. He didn’t have anything else to hold over Finn’s head to make him cooperate, so he’d pay. He might haggle a bit but eventually he paid. Shotgun didn’t call Finn unless it was already a last resort, which gave Finn a hell of a lot of flexibility in negotiating.
Eventually Shotgun started to breathe instead of shout incoherently, and growled in irritation. “That’s highway robbery, you scumbag. I don’t have to pay you that much, you’ll do it for the same as I paid in Walla Walla.”
“My schedule’s pretty full,” Finn said, trading a look with Franny where she still sat behind the wheel of the stubborn truck. “Don’t know if I can fit you in, but I’ll let you know once I do.”
“You bastard,” Shotgun muttered. “Fine. One of these days you’re gonna need a favor from me , and see if I help you out. Prick.”
“Great,” Finn said. He’d worked with the shittiest characters in the world while traveling with the Legion, most of them across the table with their “partners” and the rest the odd ducks who turned up to join the Legion itself. Shotgun didn’t even make his Top Ten list for stressful encounters. “Send me the information you’ve got and I’ll see what I can find.”
There was a lot of grumbling and muttering from the other side before the call ended, but Finn took it in stride. Shotgun had so far been a lot of bluster and not much follow-through, but that was mostly because Finn didn’t give him a reason to follow through on his threats.
Finn tucked his phone away and tried to focus on the truck and Francine as he waited for more information on where the DEA agent needed him to go. His bear finally settled down with the thought of getting back into the wilderness and away from the walls and constraints of the Lodge. Maybe he’d take longer than a couple weeks. Maybe he’d disappear for a month, wait until the deep snows came and the rest of the bears hibernated before he returned.
He exhaled tension he hadn’t known gathered in his shoulders and started making mental lists of what needed to be done before he left. Which started with fixing the damn truck. “Okay, start ’er up, Franny.”