Chapter 4
JUSTIN
“Dolly Jean, don’t give me a hard time. You’ll always be the only girl for me.” Justin patted the fuselage of his Cessna float plane and closed the engine hatch.
“Which is even truer than you know,” he murmured as he wiped his hands on a mechanic’s rag, tapped his knuckles on the nose of the plane for luck, climbed into the cockpit, and started the engine.
To his relief, it kicked over on the first try. The plane wasn’t particularly finicky, but he hadn’t liked the sound of the cycle on his last flight and made it a rule to never take chances in a vehicle that went up in the air.
He let the plane’s engine run for several minutes to make sure the improvement wasn’t a fluke and then shut down.
“Purrs like a kitten.” Russ Lowe walked out on the dock toward him. Russ owned Lowe’s Auto Shop, which meant he knew what a good motor sounded like.
“Thanks. Just a tweak, but it matters twice as much when a mistake means you can fall out of the sky,” Justin replied.
“No kidding.” Russ looked up and down the length of the Dolly Jean, named for Justin’s grandmothers. “That’s a real sexy girl, even if you named her for two septuagenarians.”
Justin shrugged. “They were the ones who got me hooked on the idea of flying. My mom wanted me to be safe. My grandmothers wanted me to have adventures. Mom wanted me to find a nice girl and settle down. I did, just not quite the way she intended.”
“Did you see the callout?” Russ asked. “Hiker found a body in the woods. The sheriff’s on his way, but we’re supposed to go too.”
Justin checked his phone and realized he had turned the ringer down. “Sorry. I missed it. Thanks for coming to get me. Let me lock up, and we can head out.”
A few minutes later, he climbed into Russ’s red VFD command SUV. “Drew and the others left in the ambulance so we can bring the body back,” Russ said.
“Any details?” Justin asked. “Suicide? Hunting accident?”
Russ shrugged. “No idea. Guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
They found the sheriff’s car and the VFD ambulance parked at the trailhead. Russ pulled up beside them and checked his phone for messages. “Got a text from Drew on how to find them,” he told Justin. “Let’s go.”
They followed the trail then veered off per Drew’s directions. Not far into the trees, they spotted the others.
Sheriff Armel looked grim, dictating notes into his phone. Drew had the gurney from the ambulance, but the body lay on the ground, rifle near where it had fallen.
Justin had seen his share of dead men working with the VFD. Hunting, logging, and large forests came with special kinds of risks. Chainsaws, knives, heavy logs, wild animals, and guns were dangerous, no matter how careful people tried to be. But something about this scene seemed off to Justin.
“What happened?” he asked Drew quietly, not wanting to disturb the sheriff, who was not in a good mood.
“Poacher.” Drew pointed to the two dead otters nearby. “Someone shot him. Bit of poetic justice there, if you ask me.”
“Except whoever did it used a handgun, not a hunting rifle,” the sheriff said in a gruff tone. “Right between the eyes. Nine-millimeter, from the looks of it. So it’s a murder, not an accident. I’ll need you to keep those details quiet while we investigate.”
The team assured him they would, hanging back while Armel took pictures and made more notes.
Russ elbowed Justin. “Look over there.” He gestured with a nod. “There’s a third bloodstain with the dead animals, but no carcass. I doubt it walked away on its own. Why would the shooter steal it?”
“Good question,” Justin replied. “I’m sure Armel will find the answers.”
“I’m done with the scene,” Armel said after a few more minutes. “You can take the body to the morgue. I’ll call ahead so they’re expecting you.” He paused and sighed. “I’ll handle the animals. Thanks for turning out so fast.”
Drew and Russ loaded the corpse onto the stretcher. Justin hung back, scanning the tree line, unofficially on guard. Someone shot the poacher, and they’re still out there. Who brings a handgun to a forest?
Someone hunting people, his mind supplied. The real question is, why? Sadly, his abilities weren’t picking up on any other clues or insights. While he’d come to appreciate having his psychic talents, they weren’t always cooperative on when they gave him something.
Russ joined him when the ambulance doors were secured. “Liam and the rest of the guys are going down to Bear Necessities for a bite to eat. Wanted to let you know.” Their friend group met up at one or another of the local spots after work most nights, and Justin felt grateful to have them.
“Thanks,” Justin said. “Sounds good to me.”
Neither of them spoke for a while on the drive back. The poacher might have been a criminal, but death was always sobering, and the reality of having a murderer loose was especially disquieting.
“Didn’t you say that Scott was due back in town?” Russ broke the silence.
Justin hoped that the heat in his cheeks wasn’t visible, but from the grin on Russ’s face, he guessed his body had betrayed him. “He said he was coming up this week, but he wasn’t sure when he’d get in.”
Russ elbowed him. “Just helping your love life along, buddy. Maybe you can get him to relocate. Makes things a lot easier.”
Justin sighed. “We’ve talked about it, and he’s looking for the right time to make the move. A lot of what he does could be done virtually, or he’d have to travel from anywhere to do it.”
“And you kinda need a lake, so you need to be here,” Russ observed. “Hey, we don’t mind being second-best. Come hang out with us, and when Scott eventually gets here, he can join us, or you can bring him along if he gets here sooner.”
“How’s the spooky stuff coming?” Russ asked.
Justin rolled his eyes. “Don’t call it that. Makes it sound like something from the Psychic Friends channel.”
“My point is, you’ve got abilities even if you don’t turn furry,” Russ replied.
Justin snickered. “Now it sounds like Fox Hollow is a town full of werewolves.”
Russ grinned. “Don’t diss those movies. They’re so full of incorrect information that it keeps most of the would-be monster hunters distracted and well away from everyone else.”
“I’ve been working with a couple of people at the Fox Institute,” Justin said.
“Just trying to figure out what I can do and how to do it better.” Falling for a shifter made him even more aware of their difference in abilities, and he was glad he had sought a mentor who could help him hone his own skills.
He paused. “Scott’s been talking to some of the historians there about the legends around the old Plattsburgh mine. There are some seriously creepy ghost stories about that place, and that’s without the possible old Mob witch rumors Scott dug up.”
“I’m glad you’re exploring your gift, don’t get me wrong.
” Russ grew serious. “But tell Scott to be careful about that old mine. It might have made a lot of money at one time, but from what I’ve heard, nothing else good came from it.
And I’m not sure that the stories about monsters, dark witches, and ghosts are just stories.
If the Mob was involved, there could be people who still don’t want the past dug up, literally or figuratively. ”
“I’ll pass along the warning.” Justin paused as a disconcerting idea popped into his mind. “Hey, didn’t Armel think it was a handgun that killed the poacher? I wonder whether it was a Glock.”
“Yeah, so?” Russ replied.
“Maybe I watch too many detective shows, but I thought that was a type of gun popular with mobster types as well as law enforcement and the military. Do you think there could be a connection between the Mob, the mines, and the dead poacher?”
“Well that just guaranteed that I’m not going to sleep well tonight,” Russ grumbled. “But it’s another good reason to be extra careful.”
Justin intended to warn Scott as soon as he got the chance. He managed to smile, trying to pull back the good mood.
“Who’s meeting us at Bear Necessities?” Justin asked as he and Russ drove into town.
“The usual gang. Definitely Liam.” Russ named his partner. “Pretty sure Brandon and Riley, plus Drew and Noah.”
Their gang was a group, most of whom were shifters, who worked in and around Fox Hollow. When schedules permitted, they met after work, sometimes for a drink and occasionally for dinner, mostly to get caught up.
Justin was good friends with all of them. Fox Hollow was a small town, and many of the men his age happened to be shifters. As time went on and the others found their fated mates, Justin felt something was missing. Discovering that Scott was his special person filled that void.
Bear Necessities Coffee and Café wasn’t far from the lake, but nothing was far in Fox Hollow, which added to the town’s charm.
“They’re in the back, already got a table,” Sherri greeted them when they walked in. “They waited to order, but they looked hungry, so you’d better hurry.”
Liam and the others called out to Justin and Russ as they approached the table. It was shoulder season, with the days growing shorter and cooler, which meant that on a weeknight, most of the diners were locals.
“Thought we’d starve before you got here,” Drew called out. “Come and order before we all faint from hunger.”
Justin was glad to see Brandon and Riley among his friends at the table.
Brandon was a moose shifter and a psychic.
His partner, Riley, oddly enough, was a psychic immune, unable to have his thoughts read, and not a shifter at all.
They had separately taken Justin aside and encouraged him to pursue Scott, despite their differing abilities.
Justin enjoyed Riley’s humor and the music he played at the hotel bar on weekends, but he also loved knowing someone else who couldn’t go furry had still found a partner.
Which was, as he thought about it, a strange requirement for love.
“We were nice and saved seats,” Drew teased. He was a wolf shifter, and his partner, Noah, could change into a lynx.