Fox Hunt

by J. Leigh Bailey

  Buddy’s face glowed with pleasure, just like it had the other night at the pub when I’d stuck up for him against the judgmental bartender.

  “I didn’t mean to take advantage,” Aiden said, and somehow his voice conveyed both the explanation for me and a hint of apology for Buddy. “I’ll get it while you start setting everything up.”

  I took the box from my brother and hauled it to the kitchen table. Benches lined the sides rather than chairs, and the broad surface was perfectly sized to accommodate a family of bear shifters. Dings and chips, scratches and small burn marks marred the finish, signs of surviving years of rambunctious boys.

  We’d made a plan. There wasn’t anything else to do during the long drive home besides plan. I had to admit, having Aiden on our side made a huge difference. He had the connections and skills to make sure we had whatever equipment and information we required. Which is why he’d shown up on Buddy’s doorstep buried in technology.

  I set up the equipment. By the time I was done, every spare inch of the tabletop was covered in tech.

  “Did you knock over a Best Buy?” Buddy asked, examining the six laptops lining his dinner table.

  “We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Aiden explained. He tossed me a thumb drive. “There’s your video footage. I ran it through a facial recognition program the Shifter Council has been developing. Both men were in the human criminal databases. Both have been picked up by human authorities, pending charges for a slew of nasty acts. Including assault, battery, and murder.”

  “Glad they’re off the street,” Buddy said.

  “How many of the charges did you have to make up?” I asked. His job had been to make sure they got arrested, and that the authorities found enough evidence to keep them locked away for a very long time.

  “Not a bit of it. Everything was already there. I just connected a few dots for them.” Aiden worked his way down the line of laptops, powering them on. “I wanted to thank you, Buddy, for what you did for my brother. I saw the footage from the garage. You’re quite skilled at hand-to-hand.”

  “It’s all the yoga,” I said, suddenly wanting to watch the video. As much as I could see without witnessing my fumbles and—damn it—my shift, I was curious to see what Buddy did to knock out Bob.

  “When this is over, I’ll have Mother recommend you for the enforcer training program. I know they usually recruit younger shifters, but after what you’ve done to keep David out of trouble, I’m sure she’d pull a few strings so they’d make an exception for you.”

  “No,” I blurted out, even as Buddy started to say, “Thank you.”

  Aiden cocked his head, eyes focused on me. More specifically, he studied the way I’d moved in close to Buddy, my hands wrapped around one of his wrists.

  “We’ll be right back,” I told my brother, then dragged Buddy out of the dining room and past the living room. I followed the trail of Buddy’s scent until I pushed into what had to be his bedroom. The pine-and-granite earthiness was stronger there, more concentrated.

  Buddy quirked an eyebrow at me, clearly bemused by my actions.

  I spun around on him, smacking my palm against his chest. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you even think about it. You are not an enforcer. You are not a shield or a weapon. Look, enforcers are great. They’re important. For some people it’s a good fit. It’s not a good fit for you. I won’t let you squeeze yourself into somebody else’s mold. Theo Brady, you have the biggest, most nurturing heart of anyone I know. And sure, your mother hen/big brother tendencies can be annoying, but it’s clear they come from a place of support. I know you think you’re at a crossroads in your life, looking for a purpose now that your brothers are grown, but this is not your purpose. You have so much more to offer. You need to be an educator. Or a therapist. Or, hell, a yoga instructor. You help make people better versions of themselves. That’s one of the things I love most about—”

  His mouth crashed down on mine, effectively stopping the barrage of words.

  “Mmph.” I blinked up at him when he pulled away. “I, ah… I mean, what….”

  “I’m not going to be an enforcer.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said thank you.” He grinned down at me. “But you dragged me out before I could finish. I was going to say thank you, but no.”

  “You were?” My voice sounded breathy to my ears.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, well, okay, then. That’s… that’s good.”

  He bent down to kiss me again. This time his lips were gentle and sweet. He used the pad of his thumb to caress my cheekbone. He extended the touch until he raced over my ear, tugging gently on the lobe. I closed my eyes, leaning into his hand. If I’d been a cat, I’d have purred.

  Speaking of cats… I drew away from him. We had a plan to execute.

  Chapter Eighteen

  MY brother sat at one of the dining room benches, three of the laptops open in front of him. He glanced up as we entered the room, speculation blazing in grass-green eyes.

  I sat on the opposite bench. Buddy scooted in beside me. For the first time in years, I had someone sitting beside me at the table. Granted, this wasn’t exactly a Shifter Council tribunal, but knowing I wasn’t alone, that the isolation I’d felt for years, had been penetrated made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

  As if he could sense my pleasure—and maybe contentment had a distinct scent or vibe—Buddy placed his hand on my knee. “How exactly is this going to work?”

  “I brought copies of the IT investigation of the attack on the Fourth of July,” Aiden said. “I’m going to follow the algorithm David set up when he did his initial search on the adoption record. If Darren put a hit out on David because he thought David had stumbled onto some incriminating evidence, I’m going to see if we can find it by recreating the incident.”

  “You need six computers to do that?”

  Aiden had already started imputing information into one of the laptops, so I answered. “We’ll be running a couple of these processes simultaneously. And because Aiden was part of the investigation team, he’s also going to try backtracing the data mine. It’s like a hunt, he’ll follow the trail, hopefully, back to its source.”

  “But you already know it started with the Moreau Initiative.”

  “Yeah, but we only penetrated the surface there. The risk was deemed too great to dig any further.” Disgust laced Aiden’s voice. “Really, none of our technicians are good enough to go any further and they didn’t trust me to get it done.”

  My head jerked up. “What? But why?”

  “They think I’m too young. That at twenty-three, I couldn’t possibly be qualified. Bunch of old windbags.”

  It had never occurred to me that Aiden struggled for acceptance the same way I did. I’d assumed his accomplishments earned him the respect he deserved. I’d always struggled against the constraints of living up to his standard, of competing with him for the approval I thought he had. To find out that things weren’t as easy for him as I’d imagined knocked my worldview all out of whack.

  “What a bunch of bullshit. If you say you can do it, you can do it. You’re not one to brag.”

  He snorted. “Half of them think I’ve gotten where I am through nepotism, and that Mom’s one of those parents who think their child can do no wrong—”

  I snorted. Clearly they didn’t know my mom.

  “The other half think I’m a braggart who’s trying to make himself prominent in the Council.”

  “Assholes.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Buddy dipped his chin at the laptops in front of me. “You’re going to focus on Bob, right?”

  “His name is Clifford Ruskins,” Aiden said absently, his attention mostly on his code. “Found that out yesterday. His friend is Jeremy Anderson.”

  “Clifford.” I tested the name. “Nope. Doesn’t feel right. I’m going to call him Bob. And, yeah, I’m going to see what I can find out about the Monroe Institute, and whoever it is pulling Da
rren’s strings.”

  “Mom’s going to be upset.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Upset is such a mild word. I mean, she’s planning to marry this guy. She’s going to be hurt. And embarrassed, thinking she missed something or had been taken advantage of. She’s a council member, so she’s going to be even more pissed about him actively working with the greatest modern threat to shifters.”

  “David, she’s going to be livid when she finds out he tried to have you killed. Her mama-bear instincts are going to kick in. No offense.” Aiden flicked his eyes to Buddy.

  “None taken.” At some point Buddy had grabbed my hand and started playing with my fingertips. I wasn’t sure he even noticed. The pads of my fingers were sensitive, and his little touches thrilled me. The action spoke of familiarity and connection. I wanted to sit like this for hours or days. Maybe even years. It was a lot to absorb based on a simple, almost absentminded act. I regretted that I’d have to take my hand back to work the laptops in a minute.

  “I can’t wrap my head around it,” I said. “I mean, why would a shifter work for a group of humans intent on destroying shifters? Like, what does he get out of it?”

  “Money,” Aiden suggested, his fingers not leaving his keyboard.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But when I ran a check on him last year, everything came back squeaky clean. He has a decent-sized nest egg.”

  Aiden’s hands stilled. He looked up at me over his monitor. “You did a check on him? What kind? Why?”

  “Just a basic background check. I mean, the dude was dating our mom. I wasn’t going to take his word for it that he was on the up and up.”

  “But he’s a council member.”

  “And a man we knew nothing about. The Council is good at playing politics, and while I might believe they wouldn’t knowingly invite a dangerous person into their ranks, I wasn’t going to trust them when it came to Mom’s happiness.”

  “And you didn’t find anything unusual?” Buddy asked.

  “Nah. Seemed pretty boring, actually. Grew up around the Adirondacks in New York in a pretty secluded community. Went to school at Syracuse for business management. Took him an extra year to get the degree, but nothing suspicious. Worked several years in logistics and transportation for a plastics manufacturer. Everything aboveboard and extremely boring. He’s got no criminal record, no unusual debts. Everything checked out okay.”

  “Hmm. Maybe we’ll have to dig in another layer or two.”

  “I’ll make a couple of calls,” Buddy said. “I’m useless when it comes to the computer stuff, but I know a couple people who can ask around. Find some people who knew him before he moved to Cody.”

  “He doesn’t talk much about his time before Cody. You might have something.” Aiden ran his fingers through his short red hair. It made little spikes stick up like cat ears. It was the least polished I’d seen him in ages.

  “Who do you know from New York?”

  “Not calling New York. I’m calling William.”

  Aiden stilled. “William Bryce?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a feeling he might be able to give us some insight.” Buddy released my hand, then stood. “I’m going to take this in the other room so I don’t get in your way.”

  I waited until Buddy had cleared the threshold and looked to my brother. “Dr. Bryce? The political science professor?”

  “I guess it can’t hurt to have his help,” Aiden said weakly.

  “What am I missing?”

  “Let’s just say William has a very secret past with a very secret intelligence agency. If anyone can dig down a layer or two to figure out someone’s motivation, it’s him.”

  “You trust him?”

  Aiden shrugged. “Buddy clearly does.”

  And, yeah, that said it all, didn’t it?

  FOUR hours and six cups of coffee later, I’d collected half a dozen names of people potentially connected to the fictitious Monroe Institute. Starting with the website, I tracked the domain registration through a dozen shell companies, with hundreds of fake employees. But eventually the trail led to real, verifiable people. All with scientific or military backgrounds. All in the United States, but who traveled extensively internationally.

  If I really was shooting to provide information to Bob so he could sell out Darren, I’d have gotten exactly what I needed. But next, I had to follow these trails back to the Moreau Initiative, and find the link to Darren. But first, more coffee.

  I leaned back on my bench, closing my gritty eyelids. Staring at a computer monitor for four hours nonstop strained the eyes a bit. I rotated my shoulders, tilted my head back and forth, and stretched my hands out in front of me. Anything to loosen stiff muscles.

  Blinking my eyes open, I watched Aiden hunched over the computers across from me. His gaze volleyed between one monitor to the other, back and forth. I knew those signs. He was on the edge of something important because this was his verification and double-check process, and it meant his focus was absolute. I could probably start singing and dancing on the tabletop and he wouldn’t notice. Not that I had the energy for singing or dancing. Getting up to refill my coffee seemed like a much more difficult task.

  I focused on the Keurig machine across from me, wondering if it could fill a cup based on the sheer force of my gaze. It didn’t. I puffed out a sigh and braced my hands on the table to lever myself up. Before I could stand, Buddy swooped in from somewhere and plopped a bottle of water in front of me. “No more coffee,” he ordered.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, my lips curling into a snarl.

  He ignored my glare. “Water and food. Give your gut a break.”

  At his mention of food, my stomach perked up. “Food?”

  “I’ve got the fixings for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Nothing fancy. I hadn’t stocked up on much before I left town,” he said.

  Right at that moment, grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup sounded like the most amazing dinner combination ever created. My stomach growled.

  He smiled. “Soup and sandwiches, it is.” He squeezed my shoulders and my sore muscles sang. His thumb found a knot, and I groaned, a loud, almost sexual sound.

  Aiden clicked away, oblivious.

  “You should take a break,” Buddy said, massaging my shoulders and back. He found another spot, this one almost underneath my scapula, and the tension release was almost orgasmic.

  “Soon.” I lowered my head, exposing my neck. Hopefully, he’d take the invitation. He did. His fingers pressed along the top of my spine, at the point where it met the bottom of my skull. Right where he’d bitten me the night we’d had sex in New York. This time I bit back the gasp of pleasure.

  Aiden leaped from his seat. “Hell fucking yeah!”

  I jerked back, almost falling off the bench seat. Buddy propped me up from where he stood behind me.

  Aiden threw his fists into the air, doing some kind of victory jig. He looked like a drunk leprechaun, hopping around with his tousled red hair and glazed green eyes.

  Then Aiden’s words sunk in. I jumped up too, knocking the long bench into Buddy’s knees. He grunted, but I ignored him. This was too important. “You found something?”

  “Proof that Darren is an asshole.” Aiden looked around wildly, like he’d forgotten where he was. He patted his hips, then his chest, muttering, “Gotta save it.”

  “What kind of proof,” I prodded.

  Aiden sat back down and started backing up his data. “You know how the Council’s investigation made the connection between the adoption records and the trafficking of shifter children?”

  “Right.”

  He angled the laptop screen to give me a better view of rows of text and numbers.

  Buddy squinted at the text. “What does that mean?”

  “This is proof that Darren was not only complicit, he was—or is—an active partner. He used his international shipping resources to transport children—shifter children—into Canada. His company’s fleet often sent their plastics p
roducts into Toronto. This is a listing of manifests, arrival schedules, drop-off locations, and drivers.” He scrolled through the documents. “It looks like there were at least six truck drivers on Moreau Initiative’s payroll.”

  “Toronto?” I pulled one of my work units across the table. “Two of the Monroe Institute names I was able to retrieve are based in Toronto. Think it’s a coincidence?”

  “There are no coincidences,” Buddy said, his voice low. “They were trafficking in shifter children?” He growled, pacing away from Aiden and me. “We need to get the Council involved.”

  “We need,” Aiden said with a sad grimace, “to talk to Mom.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  MOM swept in like a raging inferno, all fiery hair and burning anger.

  She stalked into the living room and planted herself in front of Buddy. “What the hell is going on? Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in North Carolina.” It was after eight in the evening, but she still wore a summer-weight mauve business suit. We’d clearly reached her while she worked. She shared her glare with Aiden. “At least that’s what I was told.”

  “Look,” I said, trying to deflect her ire away from Buddy and onto me. “Some shit went down, and it turns out I was in danger after all. We figured home was the best place for me.” I’d hoped telling her she was right would soften her attitude. It didn’t.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the danger? And why would you tell your brother to lie for you?” Her cheeks were pale, and I realized it was more than anger driving her. Hurt lingered in her green eyes as well. Almost hidden, but there nonetheless.

  “We didn’t know who to trust—” I began.

  She whirled around to face me. “Are you saying you couldn’t trust me?” Yeah, now her face twisted with a hot mix of rage and grief. She stepped closer, until we were almost nose-to-nose. The three-inch heels she wore almost made up for the difference in our heights.

  “Mrs. Sherman,” Buddy said, subtly edging his way between Mom and me. His hand rested at my lower back, familiar and warm. Mom’s shrewd gaze picked up on it immediately.