Chapter 23
Bear ran a hand over the smooth surface of the car hood, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. The rich scent of motor oil and polish filled the garage—familiar, comforting. Yeah, Lincoln had run off a few customers yesterday while Bear had traveled to Reddington City, but the damage had been relatively minor.
And Bear wouldn’t have missed seeing Joy yesterday for the world. Even if the food truck festival hadn’t been as successful as it had.
His chest tightened at the memory of her smile—real and genuine. More and more of those lately.
So, fuck Jakob Kozak and his attempt to steal Joy’s smile. May he rot in hell knowing he’d failed.
The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the garage as Bear dropped a wrench into his toolbox. He frowned, taking a step back to scan the space. Something felt…off.
He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but after years in the Marines, he’d learned to trust his instincts. They’d saved his life more than once.
His eyes swept over the workbench, the tool racks, the cars waiting to be serviced. Nothing seemed obviously disturbed. Had Lincoln moved anything around while he was babysitting the shop yesterday?
Shaking his head, Bear made his way to the back door, pushing it open to check the small scrapyard behind the garage. The morning sunlight spilled over rusted metal parts, old equipment, and?—
Bear stilled, his gaze landing on an empty space where a pile of old tires had been stacked last time he’d looked. Four, maybe five of them. Nothing valuable, just worn rubber waiting to be hauled to the recycling center.
But they were definitely gone.
“What the hell?” he muttered, stepping into the yard.
Nobody in town would steal a few worthless tires. If they needed them, they’d just ask. That’s how Oak Creek worked.
He moved toward the supply closet at the edge of the yard, checking the padlock. It was intact, showing no signs of tampering. Still, he twisted the key and pulled the door open.
Inside, the small space was cluttered as always, but Bear immediately noticed gaps on the shelves. A socket set was missing. A couple of old wrenches. Some spare parts he’d kept for a restoration project that never materialized.
Again, nothing particularly valuable.
If someone was desperate enough to steal, why not break in to the actual garage? The tools inside were worth thousands. The vehicles themselves worth far more.
Bear ran a hand over his jaw, mind racing. This wasn’t some random thief looking for quick cash. This was calculated, specific. Someone had wanted items that wouldn’t immediately be missed.
He tried to remember if he’d told anyone they could take stuff from the scrapyard. He’d been distracted lately, with Joy and everything else, but he was certain he hadn’t given anyone permission.
He turned 360 degrees, looking for anyone around. Feeling like there was someone watching but knowing there wasn’t.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. Joy’s paranoia was rubbing off on him. He shut the closet door and snapped the lock back into place.
But the unease lingered as he made his way back inside.
* * *
The Eagle’s Nest buzzed with midday activity, the lunch crowd filling most of the tables. Bear spotted Joy the moment he walked in, her movements efficient as she balanced three plates along her arm. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips when she saw him, her face softening for a brief moment.
She crossed to him, rising on her toes to press a quick kiss against his mouth.
“Hey,” she said, voice warm.
“Hey yourself.” He resisted the urge to pull her closer. “Busy today.”
“Hudson’s convinced it’s all the publicity from the food truck festival.” Her eyes danced with amusement. “But it’s probably just everyone avoiding their own cooking.”
Bear chuckled, his hand finding its way to her waist. “You taking a break soon?”
“Not yet. We’re shorthanded.” She glanced over her shoulder at an impatient customer. “Gotta run. You want the usual?”
“Yeah, chicken sandwich. I’ll be sitting over with Callum.” He hadn’t planned to talk to the sheriff about the missing stuff yet, but he might as well since Callum was here.
Bear watched her dart off before making his way toward the booth where the sheriff was hunched over a stack of paperwork, a half-eaten burger beside him.
“Mind if I join you?” Bear asked.
Callum waved a hand at the empty seat. “Please. Give me an excuse to put this shit away.” He slid the papers back into a folder as Bear settled across from him. “How’s it going?”
“Fine. Good.” Bear nodded at the folder. “Anything interesting?”
“Nothing that can’t wait till I finish lunch.” Callum took a bite of his burger, then leaned back. “How’s the garage?”
Bear hesitated, trying to decide if he was overreacting. “It’s fine. Busy. But I noticed something weird this morning.”
“Weird, how?”
“Had some stuff go missing from my scrapyard area. Old tires, some tools from the supply closet.”
Callum’s eyebrows shot up. “You too?”
“What do you mean, you too ?”
“We’ve had reports of small thefts around town the past couple weeks. Nothing major—stuff from sheds, back porches. Even here.” He nodded toward the bar. “Hudson had some crates and tarps go missing from behind the kitchen.”
Bear’s jaw tightened. “You investigating?”
“Keeping tabs. Nothing’s valuable enough to warrant a full investigation. You know how it is in a small town—could just be kids messing around.”
“Yeah, maybe.” But why didn’t Bear believe that?
Joy appeared with his food, setting it down with a smile before rushing off to another table. Bear watched her go, noticing the easy way she moved through the space. No hesitation, no jumpiness. Progress .
“You think it could be a vagrant?” Bear asked, turning back to Callum. “Someone passing through?”
“Possible. We get our share of drifters this time of year.” Callum took a sip of his water. “Or hikers looking for easy supplies.”
Hikers. “What about that Daniel guy?”
“Daniel?”
“He’s been hanging around town for a few weeks now.” Bear stabbed a fry with more force than necessary. “Saw him at the Jackalope Fair. He’s in here every once in a while, too. Maybe he’s the one taking the stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him, but I didn’t know his name. You sure he’s not on your shit list because he was talking to Joy?” Callum raised one eyebrow.
Bear scowled. “He’s not on my shit list. I’m just saying, he’s been around a while for someone who’s supposed to be passing through .”
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Callum studied him for a moment. “You tell Joy about the break-in?”
“No, and I don’t plan to.” Bear took a bite of his sandwich, avoiding Callum’s gaze. “She’s doing better. I don’t want to give her something new to worry about.”
“She might notice eventually.”
“If she does, I’ll deal with it then.” Bear wiped his hands on a napkin. “She’s got enough on her plate.”
“How is she doing? I heard the food truck festival went well.”
Bear nodded, a hint of pride warming his chest. “It did. She knocked it out of the park.”
“Sloane was sad she couldn’t help, but she was super sick yesterday.”
“Honestly, that truck would’ve been the worst place for Sloane, then. But Amari was there to help, and I jumped in for a couple of hours. Still, Joy was the glue that held it all together. People were definitely impressed.”
“Time for her to show off that thing around here.”
“She will. After yesterday’s response, it won’t be long.”
“How is she doing otherwise?”
Bear finished another bite of his sandwich before responding. “She’s sleeping better. Eating more. Not flinching every time someone moves too fast around her.” He met Callum’s gaze, his voice softening. “Being able to move back in to the house has helped. Thanks for your part in that.”
“Glad to help.” Callum’s expression turned serious. “Sloane still wakes up gasping for breath some nights. Sometimes she talks about it. Most of the time, she doesn’t.”
Bear’s hands tightened into fists beneath the table.
“Some days are worse than others,” Callum continued. “But I know Sloane has to work through it on her own timeline. But she is working through it. Just like Joy will.”
Bear exhaled, staring at the wood grain of the table. “I want to make it easier for Joy.”
“I know. But you can’t fight this battle for her. And trying to protect her too much—like keeping news of these break-ins to yourself—may do more harm than good.”
The words hit harder than Bear expected. He’d spent his life protecting people, solving problems before they even knew they had them. That was what he did. It was who he was.
But helping Joy heal wasn’t a problem he could punch or fix with a wrench. This battle was something only Joy could fight.
“I’m trying to remember that,” Bear admitted. “Not always easy.”
“Never is.” Callum’s gaze drifted to Sloane as she emerged from the kitchen, belly now noticeably rounded beneath her uniform shirt. “But being there helps. Even when it doesn’t feel like enough.”
Bear nodded, watching as Joy navigated between tables, laughing at something a customer said. The sound floated across the restaurant, genuine and light.
She was healing. Day by day. Fighting her way back.
Bear turned his attention back to his food, mulling over their conversation.
“If you hear anything else about the thefts, let me know,” Bear said. “Something about it doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Will do.” Callum nodded, already reaching for his folder again. “But try not to dwell on it too much. It’s probably nothing.”
Bear made a noncommittal sound. His gut told him otherwise.
As he finished his lunch, his gaze drifted back to Joy. She caught him looking, and her lips curved into a small, secret smile that was just for him.
Yeah, he’d keep the break-ins to himself for now. The last thing she needed was to start worrying again, especially over a few missing tires and tools.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to look into it himself.
He couldn’t fight Joy’s battle for her. But protecting her—protecting Oak Creek—from new threats? That was something he could damn well do.
He drained the last of his drink, already planning to check the security around the garage when he got back. Maybe add a camera or two. Nothing obvious, nothing that would make Joy ask questions.
Just enough to catch whoever thought they could take what wasn’t theirs.
Because one thing was certain—if someone was messing around his garage, his town, or his people, Bear wasn’t going to sit by and do nothing.