Chapter 4 #2
What the hell was she supposed to do? Break a chair? Bench-press a Volvo? Nothing was going to stop that creature from attacking. It was still roaring! Or maybe it was more like a growl.
The beast took a step forward. Then another.
Mr. Max slid along with it, keeping himself between the grizzly and Becca. And he kept talking as if she could still understand him.
“It was wrong of me. Dead wrong. But you know I made up for it later. I rescued that dog when he got trapped in Bennet’s fence.
You know I fed him my food all the time under the table.
He forgave me and loved me. You know he did.
And I bought you flowers and new tarts when I could afford them.
They weren’t as good as yours, but you know I meant well. …”
On and on he went, diverting the grizzly’s attention.
The thing didn’t walk any closer to Becca.
In fact, the more Mr. Max talked, the more the bear growled at him and not her.
And then something strange happened. The creature started to shrink and the air in the room seemed to heat.
Hair fell off or disappeared. The grizzly hump went down and the shoulders retracted.
Pretty soon the grizzly’s face became human, displaying a self-satisfied smirk.
“Well, now,” Marty said as she dropped her paws—now hands—onto her hips. “Don’t you feel better for getting that off your chest? You been carrying the guilt of a bunch of tarts around since you were ten years old.”
Mr. Max snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “You knew from the beginning.”
“Might be the case. Might be I was waiting for the guilt to eat you alive and make you confess. Didn’t think it would take twenty years.”
He snorted. “I was just a boy.”
“And full of mischief. But you got enough to think about in your life without feeling guilty for a bunch of undercooked tarts.”
“Undercooked? Is that why they were sitting out?”
Marty grinned. “They were a bad batch. Those weren’t for the party. I was just practicing.”
Max’s jaw dropped. “And you let me feel guilty all these years?”
“Well, I figured if you didn’t confess, I didn’t have to, either.”
They stared at each other, Marty with a lifted chin and a laugh bubbling on her lips.
Mr. Max was indignant, but his expression soon shifted to amused.
A moment later, he pulled her into a big hug—hell, it was a bear hug—and they chuckled together.
And all the while, Becca just stared, her mind reeling from what she’d seen.
Were-grizzlies? No way. It couldn’t be.
“I’ve been infected,” she murmured. Whatever the chemical spill or hallucinatory poison in the water—she’d somehow gotten it. She was insane now, just like everyone else.
Then Marty turned to her, her hands on her hips. “You’re not one of those stubborn people who won’t believe no matter what, are you? I thought you had more sense than that.”
Becca swallowed. Were-bears? It couldn’t be possible.
But then her gaze landed on the hair on the floor.
Tufts of dark brown with white tips. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she knelt down and picked some of it up.
She rubbed the coarse hairs between her fingers, even sniffed them.
They were real. Not a hallucination, but real hairs from a real creature.
“Where’d the rest go?” she murmured, looking up at Marty. The grizzly had been almost double her size and weight, and now she was back to being an average middle-aged woman in an oversize sack of a dress. “The hair here doesn’t account for all that size.”
Standing behind her, the detective snorted.
“You can buy were-grizzly but get hung up on the fur.” The woman shifted to look her in the eye.
“It’s an energy exchange. Did you notice the change in temperature?
Or it’s magic. Or maybe it’s some sort of special biological DNA that draws from the Force.
Who the hell knows? Can’t you just accept this and move on so we can talk about your nephew? ”
The tone was irritated and the words downright rude, but it was exactly what Becca needed to jolt her out of her shock.
Which meant she had a simple choice. She could either cling stubbornly to the mass hysteria idea or leap straight into were-creature land.
Given that crisis mode forced her to boil life down to the raw facts, she had to go with the evidence of her five senses.
The fur was real. The change was real. Ergo, bear shifters were real.
Maybe if she wished real hard, she could find a knight in shining armor, too.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Tell me why you think Theo is one of you.”
“Good,” approved the detective. “You’re rational. There’s hope for you.”
Becca wasn’t so sure, but she let the comment go. Meanwhile, Mr. Max answered her question.
“Theo’s father was a shifter like us. He was kind of wild—”
“Feral,” inserted Marty.
Mr. Max winced. “He fathered a few children on different women before he died.” Marty opened her mouth at that, but the man shot her a quelling look.
She pressed her mouth closed and tilted her head completely to the side.
It was a strange reaction that Becca didn’t have the brainpower to process.
“Theo was one of his children. Not every child shifts, so we stayed away. But just in case…”
“You bring them to camp,” Becca said, remembering that her sister had never had to pay full price for the weeks away. She’d said it was a scholarship for special kids. Translation: potential shifter kids. “And once here, you teach them how to navigate Gladwin Park if it’s needed.”
“Yes.”
“But why do you think Theo’s shifted now?”
“Because he’s been fighting at school. His temperature has been running hot, which is normal before First Change.”
“No it hasn’t—”
“Remember all those fevers that got him out of his French tests?”
She swallowed. She’d suspected that he’d been faking his illness, but had stood over him and taken his temperature herself.
It had never occurred to her that he was just normally hot.
Or that it was part of some freaky biological shift into a bear.
She took a deep breath, trying to think.
This just wasn’t possible, and yet…apparently it was.
“Also,” continued Mr. Max, “he told Amy that he felt like there was a creature just underneath his skin and it was making him crazy.” His expression turned sympathetic.
“Sure, a lot of this could be passed off as normal adolescence, but put together, there are plenty of signs for those who know what to look for.”
She hated that Theo had confided in Amy and not her, but the girl was closer to his age, and some things just weren’t expressed to a parent. That was a natural part of growing up.
“And there’s one more thing,” he added. “All of Frank’s children have become shifters.”
She frowned. “Just how many are there?”
“At last count, seven. Four of them have turned old enough to shift.”
Seven? Holy shit, Theo had six half brothers and sisters out there. She didn’t know if the kid would be happy or freaked out by that. And wasn’t that the most irrelevant thing for her to focus on?
“So now it’s Theo’s turn. And you think he did it and is headed up here.”
“Yes.” That was the detective answering, her tone dry.
“This is a normal part of a grizzly shifter’s life.
That makes it a regular spring ritual, and Gladwin PD is well used to handling it.
That’s fine for the local kids.” She glanced at Marty.
“But the minute they start traveling from outside the county, things get dicey. We’ve got friendly eyes all over Michigan, but that’s not always enough. ”
Of course not. Because if she were the Kalamazoo PD, she’d shoot a wandering bear on sight. They didn’t belong in a populated area.
“Are there usual trails that they take?” she asked. “Someplace you watch?”
“Sure there are,” said Marty. “And we got people watching them.” She patted Becca’s arm, and it was so comforting she wasn’t even bothered by the woman’s unnaturally warm touch.
Oh, hell. She finally understood now about Theo’s fevers because his skin had felt just as hot as Marty’s.
She swallowed and did her best to focus. “But Theo was in Kalamazoo. And you’re just watching locally. Places in the park and in Gladwin.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Max as he once again stepped much too close.
For all that his tone was conciliatory, his presence all but beat her into submission.
“You need to trust us. We’ve been through this every spring since the Gladwins first settled here hundreds of years ago.
People don’t mess with bears, and there are natural instincts, too. ”
“Our boys will be just fine,” said Marty.
Becca nodded, trying to feel reassured. Mostly she just felt unsteady. “So what’s next? What do I do?”
“You? Nothing,” said the detective. “You let us do our jobs.”
“I know it’s hard,” Mr. Max said soothingly.
“Hard nothing,” huffed Marty. “It’s a nightmare only a mother can understand.
” She looked harshly at the other two, then she turned back to Becca.
“Here’s what we do, honey. We cook. It’s hard, cold work sitting out there watching for our boys.
The kitchen’s set up, and I’ve made stew, but it’s not going to last all night. Plus coffee and cookies—”
“Beef stew?” interrupted Mr. Max. “Thank God! I’m—”
“Hungry as a bear?” quipped Becca before she could stop her mouth. Gallows humor was something she excelled at.
“Look at you!” Mr. Max said with a grin. “Making shifter jokes and everything. You’re going to fit in just fine.”
Tonya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, she’s a regular comedian. I’m spelling the sheriff at the first checkpoint. You know how to reach me.” Then she spun on her heel before heading out. All crisp, clean efficiency.
“She doesn’t like me much,” Becca said, once again proving that she was completely off her game. She didn’t normally comment on stuff like that. Or let it bother her.