by Mia Taylor
They are connected—Charlie was right. But how? What does this mean?
“Where is he? Which one is he?” Davies demanded.
Vivian shrugged her shoulders flippantly.
“It looks like we’re at a stalemate here, Mr. Davies. I won’t talk if you won’t.”
He stared at her balefully, his mouth moving as if he was muttering something but no words reached her ears.
“All right,” Vivian sighed, turning back toward the door. “Have it your way. But when the truth comes out…”
“Wait! Let me get Mr. Wexley on the phone. He can explain everything to you much better.”
A silent alarm slid through Vivian.
I made a big mistake coming here and an even bigger mistake giving my real name. If Daniel Wexley was prepared to do things to his own children, what will he do to a nosy reporter?
“No,” she said flatly but there was a noticeable tremor in her voice. “No deal.”
Before he could answer, she grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. Almost sprinting from the inner office, she made her way into the reception area. The pinched-faced woman looked up at her in surprise.
“I have Mr. Wexley on the line, Miss Bentley. Will you be back?”
“No.”
She bolted out of eye-view and slammed through the stairwell door, the sense that she was in grave danger following her.
You’re not a journalist—you’re careless. Whatever landmine you just stepped on is about to blow up in your face. Unless…
She hurried out of the four-storey building owned by Ambrosia and darted toward the Saab in the parking lot, cringing as she noticed the security cameras pointed at her from every direction.
In the age of facial recognition, even if she hadn’t given her name, she would be easily found, she was sure.
It’s okay. I’ll protect myself with the truth, she thought firmly, backing out of her parking space. I just need to speak with Agent Blessin and then I can write my article.
She hoped by then it wasn’t too late.
~ ~ ~
Vivian got back to her motel room, her heart pounding in her chest still. It had taken her half an hour to get back from Roanoke but she could feel the cold fingers of terror clutching at her chest.
I’ll write it on my online blog and tweet it. It will go viral and protect me in case Wexley comes looking for me.
She willed herself to be calm, to process what had happened in the meeting before her primal sense had gone haywire.
It made no sense for a company like Ambrosia to have a set-up in Roanoke but Vivian put that fact aside for a moment.
What did Davies mean by “which one is it?”
Which son or which bear-man?
Or do they think that the bear-man is one of Wexley’s sons?
There was not enough information for her to make a solid inference but Vivian knew that she had escaped that office in good time. Who knew what they were trying to cover up?
Maybe I’ll just leave Ambrosia out of it. I’m sure Charlie Jones will appreciate that.
Her cell phone rang and Vivian jumped at the noise. She didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway. It could have been one of a dozen people she had called for interviews.
“Vivian Bentley.”
“Miss Bentley, this is Agent Fernandez of the FBI. You had left a message for my partner, Agent Blessin?”
Here’s for the moment of truth…
“Are you investigating the sightings of a bear creature in southern Virginia, near Mt. Rogers?”
The silence went on so long, Vivian had to look at her phone to ensure the call hadn’t been dropped.
“Hello?”
“Who are you, Miss Bentley?”
“You know who I am,” she retorted. “Vivian Bentley. You just used my name twice in two minutes.”
“I mean why are you asking questions about that?”
“So, you are,” she sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any insight you want to share with me.”
“Not unless you can tell me who you are and why you’re interested.”
“I just moved to Blacksburg,” she lied. “And I’ve been hearing these god-awful tales about this creature who goes around murdering people in their sleep—”
“Oh, I assure you, it’s nothing like that,” Agent Fernandez chuckled, his voice relaxing. He was losing his wariness.
“But there is something out there! Everyone in town has seen him!”
“It is most likely a bear, Miss Bentley, no reason to panic.”
“Uh, if the FBI is investigating it, it’s a big deal,” Vivian insisted. “I’ve seen the ‘X-Files’. I know the deal.”
Again, Fernandez laughed, not a trace of suspicion in his voice.
“We are simply trying to bring the bear out of the mountains and back into his natural habitat before someone gets hurt. There is nothing to worry about. We’re working with local law enforcement to make that happen.”
Vivian did not buy one word coming out of his lying mouth but she bit back her opinion.
“Where is his natural habitat?” she asked sweetly. “Greenland?”
“We won’t know until we catch him.”
A note of tension crept back into the agent’s voice and Vivian was more convinced than ever that they were hiding something.
Since when does the FBI work with the US Forest Service?
“Well, I hope he doesn’t get killed,” she told him, hoping to elicit more information before he disconnected the call. “Even if he is a murderer. He’s just a bear, after all.”
“That bear will not be killed.”
There was a note of finality in his tone which both convinced and terrified Vivian.
“How can you be sure?” she insisted.
“Because he has good benefactors. Is there anything else, Miss Bentley? I’m afraid that I have a lot of work to do today.”
Yeah, I bet, Vivian thought furiously. Like doing Daniel Wexley’s bidding. How much do you want to bet that he’s the bear’s benefactor?
“Oh, of course, Agent Fernandez. Thank you for your time. I’ll sleep much better tonight, knowing that I’ve got the answers I need.”
“Glad to be of service, Miss Bentley.”
The call disconnected and Vivian sat forward, gritting her teeth with determination.
The more she thought about it, the more it all made sense.
The bear-man was Daniel Wexley’s son.
I need to write this story. Now.
She whipped open a notebook and began to write, silently cursing herself for not having brought her laptop.
It’s a moose. It’s a truck. No, it’s—
Her cell rang again and she snatched it up without taking her eyes from the paper.
“Vivian Bentley.”
“Vivian, it’s your mother. If you aren’t home in twenty-four hours, I’m calling the car in stolen.”
Chapter Eleven
Betrayal
He stared at the supplies in his cupboard and gritted his teeth together. Vaughan was in no mood to go into town but there were things that he needed to get.
Murphy barked once, confirming that he was, in fact, out of food.
“I guess I’m going to Blacksburg,” he sighed aloud. Chase wagged his tail happily and Vaughan dumped the last of the dog food into their bowls, watching for a moment as they inhaled the chow with gusto.
The days had been unbearably long since Vivian had left him, covered in mud, her furious face etched in his mind like a scar.
For the first two days, Vaughan had sat by the window in between lessons, half-expecting to see Vivian’s beige Saab coming up the laneway.
By the third day, he started to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t coming back.
Or maybe she just doesn’t remember how to get here, he reasoned but he knew he was grasping at straws.
The time they’d spent together was all he would ever have and he knew that was his fault.
I let her leave thinking that it meant nothing to me. I should never have let her go.
But it was too late for regrets. The only way they would ever find one another again would be if Vivian returned to him. He still didn’t know her last name, after all.
I could wander through Richmond yelling her name, he thought bitterly. How many Vivians could there be there?
A small part of him hoped that she was still around, that maybe she had remained in Blacksburg despite what had happened and was simply gathering herself, deciding whether to come back.
Maybe when I’m in town, I can ask about her, he thought and the idea filled him with humiliation. If Vivian wanted to be left alone, he knew he should honor that, especially when he couldn’t give her what she wanted—a real man without a dark, dangerous secret.
If I know it’s for the best, why am I questioning it?
He pondered that all the way down the mountain and into Jesse’s general store.
“Heya, Van!” the deaf old timer called. “Ain’t y’already been here this week?”
“Last week,” Vaughan corrected, sighing. “Forgot some things.” He wondered why he had bothered to respond at all. Normally he would have just grunted and walked on by with a curt nod.
I got used to speaking with Vivian. In one day. Jesus. What would I be like if she was around for a year?
He reminded himself, for the seemingly hundredth time, that was not an option.
“Hi, Vaughan.”
Cora made her magical appearing act but she didn’t startle him as she usually did.
“Hey.”
She examined him with curious eyes.
“You look different,” she finally said. “Healthier or something.”
“Yep. Not sick anymore,” he replied, remembering his lie from the other day.
“Glad to hear it. Need help finding anything?”
“No, I think I’ve got the lay of the land.”
He hesitated and stared at her. Cora returned his look.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t ask anything.”
“I…” he cleared his throat nervously. “Have you seen a woman in here recently? She’s from out of town but she’s staying in Blacksburg. Her name’s Vivian.”
Her eyes seemed to cloud over.
“The name is familiar but I can’t really put a face to it.” She whirled abruptly away and yelled up to her father. “Hey, Daddy? Y’all seen a girl in here named Vivian?”
“Vivian…”
“Ain’t that the reporter girl?”
Another local materialized from one of the aisles and if Vaughan hadn’t been so stuck on his words, he would have marveled at the hiding places in the relatively small store.
“Reporter girl? No, I don’t think so,” Vaughan replied. “She’s tall, with short, dark hair—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Randy laughed, waving his meaty hand. “Looker, that one. I know the girl. She’s been out to visit with granny about her experience with the bear-man.”
Vaughan felt the blood drain out of his face.
“What?” he choked. “She what?”
“Oh, dang!” Cora cried. “That’s why I knew the name. Yeah, honey, she’s a reporter. Ain’t she tell you? She’s doing a big exposé on the bear-man. I think she may have figured out where he’s hidin’ or somethin’. I dunno. I think someone told me it’s already online but I ain’t seen it yet nor heard nothin’ about it.”
No. No, they’re talking about someone else, his brain screamed. Your Vivian isn’t the same woman.
But suddenly, it all made sense—the “chance” encounter on the road, her looking around his cabin.
I was nothing but a source to her. How could I have let my guard down, especially after those agents came poking around?
“Are you all right, honey? You’re very pale. Y’ain’t relapsing, are ya?” Cora asked worriedly but Vaughan didn’t hear her. Instead, he turned blindly and raced from the store.
He didn’t remember the drive back up to his cabin, his brain in a fog.
My secret is exposed and by the woman I thought I loved.
Suddenly, he was seventeen years old and standing outside his parents’ bedroom, listening to them talk about his ability.
The same feeling of shame, humiliation and anger combined in the pit of his stomach, causing his gut to lurch.
Bile filled his mouth and as his fingers curled around the steering wheel, he saw tufts of fur growing around his knuckles.
Oh Christ, not now. I can’t shift now.
He forced himself to focus on remaining in control of his truck but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
Different voices played in his mind, making concentrating impossible: the sound of young children crying out for the mother, joined by his father’s deadpan, expressionless tone as he disowned Vaughan. There were other people too, whispers which he didn’t quite catch, and then there was Vivian’s face staring at him with affection as he taught his lessons.
You let this woman into your life, let her see you at your most vulnerable and she used you. And now you’re in danger because of her.
He made it home, falling from the cab of the truck on all fours although he was still in partial shift.
His anger was mounting and no matter how much he tried to make excuses for what he had learned, he knew that what he had been told in the general store was the truth.
How could she have known it was me? People in these parts have been looking into my alter-ego forever and no one has figured it out yet. She walks in here for two days and knows? How long has she been onto me? Is she in cahoots with the FBI agents?
There were so many questions, piling on top of one another, hitting him faster than he could possibly try to understand.
He lumbered into the cabin, thrusting the door open with one massive paw, and the dogs yelped in fear, sensing his ire.
Chase yapped twice and went to sniff at him but Vaughan pushed him aside, angling for his computer. His body was too massive, too clumsy. There was no way he would be able to dig up the article until he shifted back and there was no way he was shifting back until he was calm.
Vaughan released a howl that reverberated through the house and even his seasoned dogs backed off, terrified at the rage inside their master.
He willed himself to close his eyes and he conjured an image of Vivian in his brain. He thought of how she’d left him, picking a fight and making him believe it was his fault.
It was all part of her plan. She was using me all along, but why? What did I ever do to her?
It was hard to believe that she would pretend to care about him and then rip his life apart without a second thought, all for a story. Was she working for someone? Was this some grand conspiracy?
Again, he was aware of how paranoid he sounded in his own head but what was he going to believe?
It was all too much and he hung his head, sobs of anger shaking his body.
If this is true, what will I do? I have to get out of the mountains, pack up the life I’ve made for myself here and find another place to hide.
The thought was insurmountable, almost as unbearable as the fact that he had been terribly betrayed by Vivian.
And then, like someone had poured a bucket of water over him, his fury was gone. In its place was a deep, sorrowful sadness which made his heart ache.
He crumpled to the floor, his pulse slowing as the grim reality flooded over him in full force.
As he lay on the floor, his body slowly made its way back into his mortal form but Vaughan didn’t move, his frame suddenly devoid of any energy.
Maybe I’ll just lay here until the villagers come and set this place on fire. I’m so damned tired of running. I can’t do this anymore. There’s no point. Everywhere I go, I’m met with the same kind of people—ones who want to hurt me. I can’t hide from them anymore. They seek me out.
Murphy and Chase slowly ambled toward him, placing their heads on his chest and whining in unison. Hi
s despair was radiating through the cabin, affecting the only two beasts who had ever been there for him.
“I’ll make sure you’re cared for,” he promised them gruffly, emotion filling his throat. “You guys will be together.”
He wondered if he was disappointing them, too.
I’ll just turn myself in and they can decide what to do with me. I’ll probably be a lab rat for the rest of my life but at least I’ll know to be expecting pain.
There was a sharp yip and both dogs raised their heads, a low growl vibrating against Vaughan’s chest.
“Are the torch wielders here already?” he asked mirthlessly. “Let’s get this over and done with.”
The sound of a car door closing followed and the dogs began to howl, barking madly as someone rapped on the front door.
Vaughan still didn’t move from his spot on the ground, his eyes trained on the stovepipe over his head.
If they want me, they’re going to have to come get me. I’m not doing any work.
The dogs’ barking reached a fever pitch and the knocking got louder.
“Go away,” he mumbled, sure that whoever it was couldn’t hear him.
“Vaughan? Vaughan, are you home?”
He bolted upright and even the dogs stopped their howling at the sound of her voice.
“Vaughan? I know you’re probably upset with me but… well, I really wanted to talk to you before I left for Richmond and I don’t have much time.”
Is she out of her mind coming here? She knows what I am and she just published an article about me. Is this a trap?
“Please, Vaughan, give me five minutes. I haven’t… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and… well, I know it didn’t mean anything to you but I want you to know that it meant something to me.”
He jumped to his feet and flew toward the door, wrenching it open to gape at her.
“What kind of game are you playing?” he hissed, his face contorted into a mask of rage. “You think I don’t know what you did? The whole fucking town is talking about it.”
She reeled back in shock, the look on his face apparently scaring her.
“I—what do you mean? The article?”
“You took advantage of me,” he spat, advancing. “You used me for what? An article? Do you screw all your sources or was I special?”