Chapter 8 #2
"He wants me to take a federal deal," Ali gasped. "Testify against Cottonmouth in exchange for immunity. But he'd have to surrender himself as part of the arrangement."
"And?"
"And he's trying to make the decision for me. Says I should take it, that I'll be better off without him." Ali straightened despite the pain lancing through her body. "I need a ride to the nearest airport."
"Ali—"
"I can't do this anymore, Luna. I can't be with someone who thinks loving me means controlling me."
Behind them, Tim's truck sat silent on the shoulder, its massive frame somehow diminished without the rumble of its engine. Ali didn't look back as Luna helped her into the werewolf's rig, but she could feel Tim's anguish through their bond like a physical wound.
Maybe this was what growing up was like. Maybe this was what it meant to choose yourself instead of settling for whatever scraps of love someone was willing to give you.
The pain would fade, eventually. The mate bond would weaken with distance and time.
At least, she hoped it would.
Because right now, walking away from Timothy McGraw was like dying by inches.
***
GRIZZ
Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman sat in his patrol car on a hill overlooking the werewolf community and tried to figure out exactly when his thirty-year law enforcement career had turned into a complete clusterfuck of biblical proportions.
Below him, the convoy had finally reached its destination—a collection of cabins and trailers that looked more like a summer camp than the criminal hideout he'd been expecting to bust wide open.
Supernatural truckers were unloading medical supplies, while convoy supporters formed a protective perimeter around the area like they were guarding the goddamn Hope Diamond.
And in the center of it all, werewolf children were getting the insulin that was apparently keeping them from dying.
"Daddy," Smokie said from the passenger seat, Mr. Snuggles clutched in his arms like the cotton-stuffed security blanket he'd always been, "those don't look like criminals to me."
"Boy, you shut your pie hole before I stuff that teddy bear husband of yours in the glove compartment.
" But Grizz's heart wasn't in the reprimand.
He was too busy watching a dragon woman—had to be that Bertha from the truck stop—using her fire breath to sterilize medical equipment while a yeti the size of a small mountain handed out stuffed animals to scared children like an abominable snowman Santa Claus.
His radio crackled with Cottonmouth's voice: "Sheriff Lawman, what's your status? Are you in position to make arrests on those scum-suckin' degenerates?"
Grizz keyed the mic, but the words got stuck in his throat like a chicken bone at a church dinner.
Down in the community, he could see parents crying with relief as their children received medication, could see the careful organization of people who'd been doing this kind of work for years, not the criminal chaos he'd been led to expect.
"Grizz, do you copy? I need those arrests made before the media shows up and starts asking uncomfortable questions."
"Sheriff Cottonmouth," Grizz said slowly, like a man trying to swallow a particularly bitter pill, "I'm looking at what appears to be a legitimate medical emergency response. These folks are delivering insulin to diabetic children, not running a drug smuggling operation."
"That's their cover story, you simple-minded haystack. The real contraband is hidden in the medical containers. You need to seize everything and arrest the convoy leaders before they can dispose of evidence or lawyer up."
Grizz watched as a massive sasquatch—Big Timber himself—carefully lifted a small werewolf girl who couldn't have been more than six years old, his enormous hands gentler than a Sunday school teacher with the church communion.
The child wasn't afraid of him. Hell, she was giggling like he was her favorite uncle.
"Sir, I'm not seeing any evidence of criminal activity down here. What I'm seeing is a community medical emergency being addressed by volunteer truckers who appear to give a damn about sick children."
"Goddammit, Grizz, they've got you fooled too with their sob story bullshit.
" Cottonmouth's voice carried a note of panic that made Grizz's law enforcement instincts perk up like a bloodhound on a fresh scent.
"This is a sophisticated operation. They use medical emergencies as cover for their real criminal activities. "
"What real criminal activities?" Grizz asked, his voice carrying the authority that had intimidated criminals and politicians for three decades. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like they're saving children's lives."
"Just make the goddamn arrests, Grizz. I'll sort out the legal details later."
The line went dead, leaving Grizz staring at his radio like it had just grown a second head and started speaking in tongues.
In thirty years of law enforcement, he'd learned to recognize the difference between justice and politics.
And everything about Cottonmouth's insistence on arrests without evidence was setting off every alarm bell he had, louder than a fire station at midnight.
"Mr. Snuggles has a question," Smokie said softly.
"What's that cotton-stuffed pain in the ass want to know now?"
"He wants to know why Sheriff Cottonmouth is so determined to arrest people who are obviously helping sick children. And why he keeps talking about evidence that he won't let us see for ourselves."
Grizz looked at his son, at the teddy bear that had been asking more sensible questions than most of his deputies, at the scene playing out below them.
A scene that looked nothing like criminal activity and everything like a community response he'd been proud to be part of during natural disasters and medical emergencies.
"You know what, boy? That stuffed husband of yours might be smarter than the average bear after all."
Grizz keyed his radio, but this time he called the state police dispatcher instead of that lying sack of dragon shit Cottonmouth.
"This is Sheriff Lawman requesting immediate medical assistance and child welfare services for the werewolf community in Sector 7. We've got what appears to be a legitimate medical emergency with diabetic children requiring insulin treatment."
The dispatcher's response was immediate and professional: "Sheriff Lawman, we show no previous requests for assistance from that community. Are you confirming a medical emergency situation?"
"Dispatch, I've got eyes on diabetic children receiving life-saving insulin from volunteer medical responders. This appears to be an ongoing medical crisis that may have been unreported due to discrimination against supernatural communities."
"Copy that, Sheriff. Medical units and child welfare services are en route to your location."
Grizz set down the radio and looked at Smokie, who was holding Mr. Snuggles up to his ear like the bear was whispering state secrets.
"What's he saying now?"
"Mr. Snuggles says you did the right thing, Daddy. He says maybe it's time to start asking why Sheriff Cottonmouth didn't want anyone else to know about sick children who needed help."
As if the universe had a sense of dramatic timing, Grizz's radio crackled with an incoming call from a number that wasn't in his contact list.
"Sheriff Lawman, this is Deputy Attorney General Sarah Martinez. We understand you're observing a convoy situation that may be related to ongoing federal investigations into medical supply irregularities in your region."
Well, shit on a shingle and call it breakfast. The feds were involved.
"Deputy Attorney General, I'm observing what appears to be a legitimate medical emergency response. Volunteer truckers delivering insulin to diabetic werewolf children who would probably be dead without it."
"That's consistent with our intelligence, Sheriff. We've been investigating reports of systematic medical supply interdiction in supernatural communities. Has Sheriff Cottonmouth briefed you on any operations involving the seizure of supernatural medical supplies?"
The bottom dropped out of Grizz's stomach like he'd just driven off a cliff in a Buick. "He told me the convoy was smuggling contraband disguised as medical supplies. Said they were professional criminals using sick children as cover for drug running."
"Sheriff, we have reason to believe the opposite may be true.
That legitimate medical supplies have been systematically intercepted and diverted from supernatural communities for black market resale.
Would you be available to provide testimony about your interactions with Sheriff Cottonmouth regarding these operations? "
Grizz stared down at the werewolf community, at the children who were alive because a convoy of truckers had risked federal charges to deliver medication, at the volunteers who'd dropped everything to help people they'd never met.
And he thought about Cottonmouth's insistence on arrests without evidence, his panic when Grizz had suggested involving other agencies, his repeated claims about intelligence sources that never seemed to produce actual goddamn intelligence.
"Deputy Attorney General," Grizz said, his voice carrying the weight of a man who'd just realized he'd been played for a fool by someone he'd trusted, "I think Sheriff Cottonmouth has been feeding me more horseshit than a stable full of Clydesdales."
"Sheriff, that makes you a valuable witness, not a fool. Would you be willing to meet with federal investigators to discuss what you've observed?"
"Yes, ma'am. But first, I got a medical emergency to secure and some very brave truckers to apologize to for being a complete jackass."
As Grizz started his patrol car and headed down toward the werewolf community, Smokie held up Mr. Snuggles one more time.
"Mr. Snuggles says he's proud of you for choosing to protect children over politics, Daddy."
"Well, you tell that cotton-stuffed know-it-all that sometimes even old dogs like Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman can learn new tricks. And that maybe it's time I started asking better questions about who the real criminals are in this goat rodeo."
But even as he said it, Grizz had the sinking feeling that by the time he figured out the whole truth, it might already be too late for the people who'd risked everything to do what was right while he'd been chasing his own tail like a damn fool.