His To Bear

by Scarlett Grove

  “I need to get going home tonight. Need a ride anywhere?”

  “No. I’m fine.” She was disappointed. She knew he was attracted to her. Why had he pulled back? Oh well. He had his reasons. She wouldn’t take it personally. “I’ll look into the logo tomorrow and we can touch base after your rounds.”

  “Sounds like plan. Can I meet you at the lodge?”

  “Sure,” she said with almost too much enthusiasm.

  “See you then,” he said, leaning in to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Night Millie.”

  “Bye,” she said, feeling like a teenager with a crush. Dang. He really did it for her.

  She watched Brody walk out of the bar, his gorgeous, high ass stuffed into his tight, dark jeans. What she wouldn’t give for a taste of what he could do.

  Chapter 6

  Brody listened to country music on the radio and drove the hundred miles he had to cover that day checking new spots and old spots for any infractions of the law. On his way back home, he drove into a public park that didn’t get a lot of action from tourists or locals. It was exactly the kind of place that poachers would use for their illegal activity.

  When he parked, he noticed a red pickup truck with wide wheels and an empty gun rack in the gravel lot. Getting out of his car, he made a note of the license plate and grabbed his rifle. He moved up the trail, opening his bear senses for any signs of hunting in the area. He could usually smell the blood, even in human form. Being a shifter helped him in his job almost every day.

  Quietly, he made his way into the forest. When he made it up a steep hillside, he looked down into the ravine below. The scent of blood wafted up in the air and he could see movement down below. Two men were kneeling over a recent kill. A mountain lion. It was not season for mountain lions, but hunters sold their pelts and teeth as novelties. Brody growled. The bear inside reared up, wanting to lash out with his strong claws.

  While he wouldn’t let his bear out to handle a couple of poachers, they did need to be dealt with. The tricky part of being a game warden was that the criminals he met were most likely armed. They could also scurry off into the forest so that he had to give chase. He really wasn’t in the mood to track them down in the thick underbrush in this part of the forest.

  The men lifted the lion on their backs and began to heft her out of the forest. They didn't see him when he followed. As the trails began to converge, Brody heard them talking.

  “Mathews said he wants a lion for his collection.”

  “Steve is a real jackass. I don’t know why we’re out here doing this,” the second man said.

  “Because he’ll pay us. That’s why.”

  “With all the talk of shifters coming out to the world, it feels weird to be hunting anymore. You’d never know if these animals were people.”

  “Good riddance, I say,” the second one said.

  “Do you have a problem with shifters?” the first asked.

  “Well. Yeah. Who doesn’t?”

  “You heard about the shifter who died right?”

  “How could I not hear about that?”

  “I think Mathews wants all these trophies to prove he’s at the top of the food chain.”

  “Like I said, Mathews is a jackass. He’s a guy with too much money on his hands.”

  As they broke out into the parking lot, they opened the camper shell of the pickup and started to shove the lion inside it.

  “It’s not mountain lion season, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have legal tags,” Brody said, holding his rifle loosely pointed in their direction.

  “Warden,” one of the men said, jumping.

  “This cougar isn’t for us,” the second man said.

  “Doesn’t matter who it’s for. You’re in possession of it. You shot it,” he said.

  “We just found it like this,” the first man said.

  “So, if I check the bullet holes against the caliber in that gun, they won’t match? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “We did it. But we were doing it for someone else.”

  “Who?” Brody asked, knowing that the men had been talking about Mathews the whole walk.

  “Steve Mathews.”

  “And why would a man like Steve Mathews have the likes of you two out doing his poaching for him?” Brody asked skeptically. If there was a connection between this and Chris’s death, he’d find it.

  “He keeps a room full of stuffed animals. Wanted a new female mountain lion for his collection.”

  “Why would I believe you? I should just arrest you.”

  “Mathews is the big fish, sir. You don’t want us.”

  “Possibly. I’m not going to arrest you today. But… I am giving you a ticket for a thousand dollars and confiscating that lion. If you don’t pay the fine, you’ll do time. Got it?”

  “Come on, at least let us keep the kill.”

  Brody shot him a look and the man backed down. They even helped him load the lion into his truck as he wrote their ticket. “If a rich man like Mathews really is giving you orders to poach animals out of season, I’m sure he’ll pay the fine for you.” Brody handed the ticket to one of them and he snatched it out of his hand, frowning deeply. “Have a good day,” Brody said, tipping his cowboy hat.

  After the men had left, he grabbed a shovel from the back of his truck, and buried the cougar deep in the ground.

  Chapter 7

  Rising late in the morning, Millie took her time eating breakfast and drinking her coffee. After a long shower, she got dressed and sat in front of her computer. That’s when she remembered she’d agreed to help Brody find the car logo imprinted into Chris’s skin.

  She had no idea where to start. Clicking on the internet, she did a quick search for car logos. She scrolled through the photos of logos she recognized as standard car brands. Nothing looked even remotely similar to the imprint on the photograph.

  Maybe she needed a better impression of the logo. The photo only showed a small corner clearly. With so little to go on, it would be nice if she could see the impression more clearly.

  She stood and grabbed her jacket. “Bye Bucky,” she said, giving her big golden retriever a scratch behind the ears.

  Out in the sunshine, she wrapped her arms around herself. It was getting colder every day. She’d need a new coat soon. Having come up from San Francisco, she hadn’t needed more than a fleece jacket and a raincoat. The Montana winter would be far different.

  Taking the narrow road into town from the lodge, she watched as she passed the tall pine trees outside her window. The world was so peaceful up here. Too bad the peace had been broken by the emergence of shifter hate groups.

  Hatred of shifters seemed to pervade every level of society: rich and poor, old and young, and every race. Everyone was affected by the shifters coming out.

  Rural towns like this one had a high shifter population because shifters enjoyed being close to the natural environment. That meant that small towns were experiencing more crime and murder than they ever had before.

  Small sheriff’s departments and country doctors like Millie had been put in charge of crimes that usually happened in larger cities that had much more money and support.

  Doing an autopsy in a murder investigation was not her usual job. As an accomplished surgeon and emergency room doctor, Millie spent most of her time moving quickly from one critical patient to the next.

  But that was all over now. She had to leave the past behind her or she’d lose her mind. There was a new challenge now: catching the person who pushed Chris off the cliff.

  Thinking about her old life just made her depressed. Her termination as lead surgeon at the biggest hospital in San Francisco had been unjust and wrong, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

  She pulled into the hospital and made her way to the morgue, stopping briefly at the nurses’ station to say hello to the nurses on duty.

  “I thought you had the day off,” Florence said. The plump white-haired grandmother rolled over i
n her office chair.

  “I just came down to take another look at the body of Chris Whitney. The sheriff’s department suspects foul play.”

  “Everyone loved Chris. Even if he was a shifter. He was a sweet kid. Played football with my grandson in high school.”

  “This whole thing is making people irrational.”

  “When they came out to the public, I thought it was a joke. But it turned out they weren’t. It took a few weeks to come to terms with it. I thought maybe they were dangerous. But then I found out a lot of my friends and neighbors had been shifters all along. I just had to accept it.”

  “Too bad more people don’t have that attitude.”

  “You know what people are like. They fear what they don’t understand.”

  “I know. It’s sad. Well, I’ve got to get into the morgue and get a better picture of that imprint on Chris’s stomach.”

  “I hope they find the killer soon. Wouldn’t want to lose another sweet young man like Chris.”

  “Me too.”

  Millie continued to the end of the hallway and took the stairs down into the hospital’s tiny morgue. There were only five refrigerator spaces. Millie doubted they’d ever all been used at once.

  She went to the refrigerator where Chris’s body had been stored and pulled it open. Looking inside, her mouth dropped in confusion. It was empty.

  Empty.

  Then she checked the sign-in sheet again to make sure this was supposed to have Chris in it. Apparently, this was the one. She bent down and stared in there. Then she stood, putting her hand on her hip.

  Was she losing her mind? A lot had changed in the last few months but she’d never been so confused as to lose a body. Turning around, she tried to make sense of what was happening.

  There were no records of Chris Whitney being released. All the paperwork indicated he should still be there. After closing the refrigerator, she hurried back upstairs to Florence.

  “Has Chris Whitney’s family claimed his body?” she asked the nurse.

  “No. He was being held because of the crime investigation.”

  “The body isn’t down there,” Millie said flatly.

  “What?”

  “It isn’t there. Did another doctor take it out for some reason?”

  “No, no one.”

  “Can you check the schedules? Because this doesn’t make any sense.”

  Florence quickly opened the computer schedule and checked all the comings and goings into the morgue.

  “It should be there,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There is no record of the body being removed.”

  “I’m calling the sheriff’s department,” Millie said, walking out to the waiting room to dial her cell phone.

  She had Brody’s personal line. Her fingers shook as she dialed his number and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d found the body of a possible murder victim missing or because she was excited about talking to the blue-eyed blond warden.

  “This is Brody,” his deep voice said on the other side of the line.

  “Hi. Millie Tanner. The doctor.”

  “I remember you Millie,” he said in a sensual drawl. Millie almost lost track of what she’d been doing and melted at his words.

  “I’m calling from the hospital,” she said, getting a handle on herself. “The body of Chris Whitney is missing. There is no record of the body being moved or claimed.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said, hanging up the phone.

  Millie looked down at her cell, a flood of confusing emotions playing in her heart and mind. First things first. They had to deal with the missing body.

  Chapter 8

  Brody arrived at the hospital as quickly as he could. Someone took Chris’s body and he was raving mad. That was until he saw Millie standing in the window in a cute pink raincoat not warm enough for the weather.

  He went through the sliding glass doors and met her in the waiting room.

  “This is just terrible,” she said, walking up to him. Her scent hit him all at once. Sweet and creamy. Like honey butter and lemon drops. His inner bear grumbled and growled. Under normal circumstances, Brody would have given her a warm hug in greeting. Knowing she was his mate meant there was no use in beating around the bush.

  Brody was an affectionate guy, and unusually good-natured for a man his size. But Chris’s death had darkened his bubbly lightness. Storm clouds crowded out his blue skies.

  “These sick bastards are going to pay,” he said, clenching his fist.

  “There’s no security footage. I already asked.”

  “I wouldn’t expect security cameras in a hospital this small. How many patients do you treat a day, anyway?”

  “Maybe up to thirty. Usually around ten. Not really the pace I’m used to.”

  “What pace are you used to?” he asked, thinking of the pace he’d like to keep with her. The vision of pulling her into his embrace dominated his mind. He frowned and shook his head to clear it.

  She giggled. The sound was light and invigorating. “I was the head surgeon at San Francisco General. So, quite hectic.”

  “What the heck are you doing here?” he asked her, bewildered.

  “I had some issues and was laid off. But I’m here now. It’s growing on me.”

  “Hmm. I hope so.”

  “Thanks. Do you want to take fingerprints or something?”

  “Right. I’m not a police officer. I’m not even really a sheriff. But Montana game wardens are in charge of shifter-related crimes now. Like we need more workload. I had to confiscate a female mountain lion today.”

  “That’s sad. Want to go see the morgue?”

  He followed her down the hall, her curvy behind swaying all the way. He wanted to wrap his hands around her slender waist and feel her shallow his shaft. Grrr…

  They entered the morgue and he was struck by the scent of death. It overcame him so abruptly and so hard, he had to bend over to catch his breath.

  “It reeks of death in here,” he muttered.

  “It smells like cleaning supplies to me,” she said, sniffing.

  “I can smell the bodies. Shifter senses are much stronger than a human’s. Where was he stored?”

  “Right here,” she said, showing him the refrigerator.

  “And there are no records of who took the body out?”

  “No, nothing. Highly unusual.”

  “I’m going to call this into the sheriff’s department.”

  Brody walked into a quiet corner of the morgue and plucked his walkie-talkie from his shoulder, calling in the crime to the dispatcher Janet. When he was done, he walked back over to Millie, who seemed nervous. She worried her lower lip and crossed her arms over her white physician’s coat.

  “Did you get anywhere with that car logo?” he asked her. It wasn’t her responsibility to find this kind of thing. She’d already been wrapped up in the crime more than any civilian should be. But he liked having an excuse to be near her. Maybe it was unprofessional, but Millie was his mate for better or worse. Until the crime was solved and he had the closure he needed to move on from Chris’s death, he had to find a way to keep close without the pressure of dating or mating.

  “I haven’t been able to find anything. I came back to the hospital to see if I could get a better look at the impression on Chris’s body. That’s when I found it was gone.”

  “Maybe we can take a look together,” he suggested.

  “I still have all my research up on my computer back at the hotel if you want to go back there and take a look.”

  “That sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you there.”

  Brody followed Millie out of the hospital and into the parking lot. His truck was parked near her car and they got in at the same time. Driving across town to where her hotel was, Brody’s mind reeled with the implications of the missing body.

  He pulled into the lodge behind Millie and followed her into her room. The fact that he was in his mate’s bedroom was completely l
ost on him because he was so wrapped up in his anger and hatred for whoever had murdered his friend. Millie sat down in front of her computer and patted the empty chair beside her. Brody slid into the chair and waited as she woke up her computer screen.

  “So I found a few different websites with car logos. A few of them are similar to what was imprinted in Chris’s stomach, but I can’t make out for sure which one it is.”

  “Let me see,” Brody said, gently taking the mouse from her hand. He clicked through a few screens, examining the logos. The photographs of the impression on Chris’s body were strewn across the desk. He picked them up to examine the impression. Millie was right, none of the car logos looked as if they were the right one.

  “I feel like we’re missing something,” he said, feeling defeated.

  “I was feeling the same thing,” Millie said. “See how this curves here,” she said pointing at one of the logos on the screen and then down at the photograph. “But it doesn’t have this cross marking. Part of it matches but the rest of it doesn’t.”

  “Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a car. Maybe it was something else. Like a super-powerful ATV or a tractor.”

  “Hmm… that could be. Maybe that’s why we’re unable to find a match. Let me look up ATV symbols.” Millie took back the mouse and typed a few words into the search engine bar. A moment later, she was on an ATV website searching through the logos.

  “Wait. Look at this. Do you think that could be it?” Brody examined the logo she had stopped on. The shape matched the impression on Chris’s chest almost exactly.

  “What kind of ATV is that?” He asked.

  “It looks like it’s a European brand,” she said. “I imagine it’s pretty rare in Montana.

  “You’re right. I’ve never seen this brand before.”

  Millie clicked over to the company website to investigate the closest place to purchase them and the sales price. The ATVs were extremely pricey and were only sold by special mail order in the US.

  “Who do you think would order one of these?”