Necessities (Fox Hollow Zodiac #4)

Chapter 1

SCOTT

“Welcome to Fox Hollow,” the woman at the hotel reception desk greeted him. “Your room is ready. Please let us know if we can do anything to make your stay more comfortable.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, thank you.” Scott Jefferson pocketed his room key.

The Fox Hollow Hotel was a remnant of the Victorian era, a four-story white wooden grande dame from the past, reluctantly remodeled with a few concessions, like elevators and Wi-Fi.

Still, it looked out on Fox Lake and offered a restaurant that guaranteed he wouldn’t go hungry, no matter what other options might be available in the small resort town.

Traveling light, he only had a small roller bag and his backpack for the week’s stay. Scott took in the framed photos of the trails and camping along the hotel’s walls and made a mental note to think about diversions if he returned for fun, not work.

Nice place, his coyote side remarked in his mind. Now, how’s the food?

Shh, Scott silently reprimanded his alter-ego. Being a shifter meant seeing the world through two sets of eyes, and in Scott’s case, hearing from an opinionated, and hungry, animal persona. You won’t starve. We just had lunch.

Ages ago, his shifter side protested. Be that way. His coyote retreated in his consciousness to sulk, and Scott rolled his eyes affectionately.

His phone rang, and Scott checked it, wondering if his editor had thought of more questions. He didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?” He expected a spam call or a wrong number.

“We’re watching you,” a man’s voice said, then the call ended.

Scott stared at the phone in his hand like it was a snake ready to bite. What the hell was that about?

Anger followed the initial rush of fear, and he returned the call. It rang for over a minute before a hang-up cut off the call.

Scott thought about blocking the number, but his reporter’s curiosity made him wonder who was behind the call and which of his projects might have prompted the interest. It could be a prank.

If it happens again, I’ll see if the number can be traced, he thought.

I’m not going to worry about it for the moment.

Scott dropped off his bags in his room and headed out to explore. He checked the time and realized he still had an hour before his reservation with the local seaplane service for a flyover tour of the area. Plenty of time to get my bearings, he thought.

“Help yourself to one of the maps,” the reception greeter called out to him when he returned to the lobby. “We’re a small town, but we’ve got everything you need.”

He thanked her and took a guide off the stack, unfolding it as he left.

Fox Hollow’s downtown curved along the bend in the main road, with offices and businesses behind that.

His cousins owned The Lone Coyote Gift and Book Shop, and while Scott had visited Fox Hollow before, it had been a long time.

He headed there first to get his bearings.

“Scott! Great to see you. Been a while. How was your trip?” His cousin Lynn greeted Scott and came around from behind the register to give him a hug.

“Trip was fine, but I’m glad to be off the road. I just got in. How are you and Troy? How’s the shop been?” At the moment, the store was quiet. Lynn stayed where she could see the door, but Scott was glad they had a few minutes to themselves.

“The summer is always crazy. Fall and winter are the next busiest for all the snowbirds who like their camping and skiing,” Lynn said.

“Spring is slow because no one likes sleeping in a tent in the rain. But the hotels and lodges and organizations create events to give people reasons to come despite the weather, and so it never really gets too quiet.”

She gave him an assessing look. “How about you?”

“Still writing articles and teaching online,” Scott said. “I stay busy, and I’m grateful for that, but I feel like I’m missing a thread to tie it all together.”

“Would that thread be a ‘what’ or a ‘who’?” she teased. “Any news on the romance front?”

Scott sighed. “Nothing to report aside from a few dates that fizzled. I’m restless. I’ve had a good run in Albany, but maybe it’s time to shake things up.”

We need to find our mate, his coyote agreed. Scott ignored him for the moment.

“You’re always welcome in Fox Hollow,” Lynn said. “We’re small but mighty. Seriously, this town manages to be close-knit without being intrusive. There’s a real family vibe. Or maybe it’s closer to say ‘pack.’”

Like Scott, Lynn and her husband, Troy, were both coyote shifters.

Fox Hollow had a reputation as a haven, although not everyone who lived in the town had those abilities.

The community also welcomed those with psychic and supernatural gifts.

That set it apart from Albany, which was blissfully unaware of paranormal realities.

“We’ll see,” Scott replied. “The thought has crossed my mind. I always love hiking in the woods when I come here.”

Lynn’s smile slipped. “About that…be careful. I know coyotes are predators, but there have been some sightings of strange creatures lately. No attacks, at least not yet, but best not to tempt fate.”

“Creatures?” Scott echoed. “What sort?”

Lynn sighed. “No one can agree on that, except that the people who have seen them are credible witnesses, and the things they’ve spotted don’t look like any normal animals.”

That intrigued the journalist side of Scott, even as he registered her warning. “I need to get some photos for several projects I’m working on and do some local research. If things feel right…I’ll cross the bridge about moving here when I come to it.”

He paused, then plunged ahead. “You’ve been in Fox Hollow for a long time. Did you ever hear anything about the old mine in Plattsburgh? Like about it being haunted or having strange creatures?”

“Shifter-type creatures?” She kept her voice low.

“Maybe. But not normal animals, things people might call monsters,” Scott replied.

Lynn paused. “The town is very supportive of shifters and people with special abilities. Someone from outside the area could have gotten a glimpse of something they didn’t understand and spread a story about a werewolf or creature. I haven’t heard about it, but it’s possible.”

Scott hadn’t considered that option, but he couldn’t help thinking that didn’t quite match with the stories he had read. “Thanks. If you think of anything else, let me know.”

The alarm on Scott’s watch went off. “Speaking of which, I need to go meet my contact. I just wanted to stop in and say ‘Hi.’”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Lynn told him. “It’s always great to see you. You know where to find me!”

Scott waved goodbye and left the shop. A couple of restaurants, along with a coffee shop, general store, and outfitters, caught his eye.

See, we won’t starve, he pointed out to his coyote, who huffed in response.

Down by the lake, he spotted the seaplane where he had an appointment, a handsome craft that looked lovingly cared for. He wondered about the pilot and what it might be like to live in a tourist town year-round.

He decided to stop in at Bear Necessities Coffee and Café on his way, needing a hit of caffeine after the drive from Albany. Scott glanced up at the sky, glad that the weather was clear for his aerial tour. Now that it was autumn, such things couldn’t be taken for granted.

Customers chatted at several tables, and without meaning to eavesdrop, Scott still picked up snippets of conversation thanks to better-than-human hearing.

“…yeah, but people started to see things in the woods near there,” the first man said.

“You’ve been listening to those ‘stranger than fiction’ podcasts again,” the other man replied. “I keep telling you, they’re all a bunch of bunk.”

Scott ran out of reasons to linger and headed for the counter, as the two men switched to talking about the weather.

“Haven’t seen you around,” the barista greeted him, a curvy, dark-haired woman whose name tag read “Sherri.” “What can I get you, and what brings you to Fox Hollow?”

Given his height and hair, Scott often got noticed, even when he hoped to blend in. He was tall and lean, six-foot-three with light blond hair and a russet beard.

“Large latte, please. And I’m here for work.”

“Now that’s a reason we don’t hear a lot. What kind of work do you do?” Sherri prepped the grounds and started the machine with the proficiency of someone who could pull a latte in her sleep. Scott sniffed the air, catching a whiff of another shifter along with the coffee.

Large animal…predator. Maybe a bear? his coyote supplied.

“I write web articles,” Scott said. “I have a couple of assignments that connect to the area and came up to have a look for myself.”

“Like tourist and hunting sites?” Sherri asked as the espresso maker hummed.

“Sometimes,” Scott answered. “I write for several different organizations, so it ranges from fun things like vacation ideas to more serious topics for business and industry. No hunting, but sometimes I do camping and skiing pieces.”

“We get a lot of writers for outdoor magazines,” Sherri said as she waited for the machine to finish brewing. “TV shows too. They come with all their cameras and photographers, and we get a little excitement before they pack up and go back to wherever they came from.”

“I’m just from Albany, so nothing as exotic as LA or New York City.”

Sherri slid his drink to him, and he walked to the register to pay. “Well, whatever brings you here, welcome. Hope you decide to come back just for fun. It’s off season, so there’s not quite as much going on as in the summer, but things don’t ever close up completely.”

“It certainly looks like you’ve got everything anyone would need, tucked into a small space,” Scott said.