“No, Dad,” she replied, turning to face him as she sat back down. “The evidence I found, the footprints, lead in the direction of the reservation. No one thinks a member of the tribe is responsible, but we think someone here may have some information.”
“She's a detective, Keme!” her mother squealed proudly.
Her father raised his brows in mild surprise. “Really? Well, detective or not, this is bound to be fruitless. You'll find no one here that will give you information. Is this why they sent you?”
“They know that things get a little tense when they come here,” she admitted. “They sent me to keep the peace.”
Her father paced across the room and took a seat on the couch. “They were smart in that,” he said begrudgingly. He was quiet for a moment and looked at his daughter. “There was a girl that came back late last night. She had been collecting berries and got into some trouble along the way. It could be a coincidence, of course, but I suppose you never know.”
Awen nodded as she listened. This was probably as close as she would get to a cooperative conversation with her father for the time being.
“As far as I know, nothing went wrong,” he continued, rubbing his chin in thought. “She did seem a little out of breath, though. It wouldn’t hurt to question her family, I suppose, if you think it would help you.”
“Thank you, Dad.” Awen reached out to rest her hand on the couch arm.
He patted her hand awkwardly and stood.
“I'll go with you,” he said, walking to the door. “They may be hesitant to speak if it's just you alone.”
A few minutes later, Awen and her father knocked on the door to an even smaller house. A tiny boy answered the door.
“Ouray,” Keme said to him. “Are your father and sister home?”
The boy didn’t speak, just ran inside. A few moments later, an older, taller girl greeted them both with a shy smile, along with her father. The girl seemed a little pale and watched them with wary eyes; however, she never dropped her smile.
“Keme,” the man answered, stepping outside. “What can I do for you?”
“My daughter is here regarding a body found not far from our forest,” he explained. “I know that your daughter was late coming home, causing worry. Did she mention anything to you?”
The man scratched his jaw nervously. After a moment, he nodded to his daughter.
“Sihu, go inside and help your mother,” he told her. She quickly obeyed, giving Awen a lingering look as she closed the door.
“My daughter will not speak to strangers,” he explained, “but she has spoken to me.”
“Did she mention anything out of the ordinary to you?” Awen asked, pulling out her notebook.
“She did,” the father replied, nodding his head. “She said a strange man was lost in the woods asking her to lead him back to the path...she did not.”
“Anything else?” she asked after he was silent for a moment.
The man shuffled his feet.
“Patamon,” Keme said, grabbing his attention, “this could bring trouble for our people. If your daughter saw something, you must tell Awen.”
“She said,” he continued after taking a deep breath, “that the Ghost Bear saved her from this man.”
The conversation went silent and Awenasa glanced at the two men with some level of confusion. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place why.
“What is that?” she asked, writing down the name.
Her father cleared his throat. “It is an old legend. I used to tell it to you when you were a child. A warrior called Uzumati from our neighboring tribe killed our princess, Awenasa, after whom you are named. He was cursed to take the form of a bear and to protect our people until his debt was repaid.”
“Oh, I remember!” she chimed in, looking at both of them.
“Yes,” her father acknowledged, “but it's nothing more than a legend passed down from generations.”
“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Keme?” Patamon snapped, stepping up to face Awen's father.
“No one is calling your daughter a liar!” she said quickly in an attempt to ease the mood. “I just want to know what she saw.”
“She told me she saw the bear change into a man,” Patamon answered, looking into her eyes. “I know how that must sound, but I trust my daughter. He saved her from whoever was pursuing her. I don’t know...who’s to say he didn’t save her life? If it was Uzumati, I would see him thanked.”
“I...okay. Thank you, sir,” Awen said, pulling at her father's arm. “I'll be back if I have more questions.”
She led her father away to the middle of the small dirt road.
“There is another man,” her father told her. “He lives in the woods between the two villages. He mostly keeps to himself and trades a little to keep himself afloat. I’ve been told he makes good money doing it, too. If there was something going on in the forest I reckon he would know about it.”
“Thank you, Dad.” She jotted down notes.
“He's got a cabin out there and there's a trail that should take you to him if you know where to look,” he continued, looking off into the forest.
“I'll head that way next.” She put her notepad in her back pocket. “I'll stop in and see you both before I leave.”
“You will not go alone,” he declared, spitting on the ground. “I'll come with you.”
“I can take care of myself, Dad.”
“Maybe so, but here you don't have to,” he intoned, walking back to his house.
Her heart warmed a bit at his protective gesture. A few moments later, her father reemerged from his house with a rifle slung over his shoulder.
“Do you really think that's necessary?” Awen inquired as she followed her father further into the reservation.
“If he's Uzumati, do you really want to risk pissing him off?” With that, her father began to walk into the forest.
“You don't really believe this old legend, do you?” she asked him, dodging briers and branches.
“Not really,” he answered, crouching down to inspect a trail, “but some people do. I believe in my people.”
“Right.”
She followed him in silence for about a half hour until he stopped and pointed ahead.
“There it is,” he said, making sure a bullet was ready to go.
She looked ahead and saw a beautiful, rustic cabin. It was old and worn, but charming. From this distance, she could see a lantern in the window.
“Looks like he might be home,” she mused.
Her father nodded.
A few moments later, she knocked on the door as her father hung back behind her. She heard nothing as she waited. After a moment’s pause, she knocked louder and more forcefully. This time, she heard cursing and loud clomping footsteps near the door. Suddenly, a large man filled the door frame. He was not much older than herself. He seemed a little perturbed, but he considered the two strangers at his door with something near amusement in his eyes.
He's beautiful, she thought. For a moment, she forgot why she had come.
She appraised his size and stature. He certainly looked as big as a bear, but not in a fat and clumsy way—nor truly a threatening way. It was more of a protective way. His long, obsidian hair covered his dark eyes. With every movement his muscles rippled. For a moment, Awenasa's mouth watered.
“What do you want?” the handsome man asked gruffly, though his threatening stature softened once he got a good look at Awen.
“W-we came to ask you some questions,” Awen stammered. She tried to snap out of it; she had work to do. “There was a body found not far from the Nez Perce reservation. We were wondering if you might know anything.”
The man stepped out into the daylight, his bare chest glistening with sweat. She took note of the bear claw tattoos lining his skin and the way he held himself. He towered over Awen as she stepped back to give him more room—not that she wanted to; everything in her wanted to touch him, and he seemed to n
otice that. Although, she noted, he didn’t seem to mind.
“A body, you say?” he asked, taking a sip of water from a canteen lying on his bench.
“Yes.” She scrutinized him. “A man. A girl said that she saw the Ghost Bear. I hear that’s a common legend around this area. Have you heard anything?”
The huge man huffed a laugh.
“Sounds like an incredible story,” he snickered, giving her a sly grin.
“W-well,” she continued, “I could see how you might be mistaken for a bear...easily, in fact.”
“Does my size intimidate you?” he asked in a deep and husky voice, stepping closer into her personal space.
“Just answer the question,” her father piped in from behind her, fingering his rifle threateningly. “Do you know anything or not?”
The man seemed to consider this. He was silent for a long time.
“It was around dusk,” Awen prompted, trying to be friendly. “Anything at all would be helpful.”
“There's been a bear or two in these parts, sure, but I’ve never seen a bear turn into a man,” he answered, keeping a steady gaze on the woman in front of him. “Or vice-versa, for that matter. What's your name?”
“Awenasa.”
A flicker of sadness crossed his face.
“Awenasa,” he repeated, taking a step back. “Beautiful name. I don't know what to tell you. I don't remember seeing a little girl last night, and I don't kill innocent men.”
She noted his choice of words.
“He may not have been so innocent,” Awen offered. “It seems that he was following the little girl in question.”
“Hmph,” the large man grumbled. “Then he got what was coming to him.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked suspiciously. “I only said he was following her.”
“What kind of man follows a little girl into the forest at night?” he retorted.
“Right.” She nodded and turned to her father. “I think we're okay here. Could you give us a minute.”
“I'll be right over there.” Her father paused as he walked away and brandished his rifle at the man one more time, adding, “Easily within firing range.”
The big man chuckled at the threat and turned his attention to Awen.
“This is the fourth body that's been found close to the Nez Perce reservation,” she explained. “They all appear to be bear attacks, but something’s off with them. All the bodies were dragged from the original location of death and the tracks appear to be covered up.”
“Maybe it was a bear man,” the man snickered. “If you're looking for fairytales, you can come inside. I'll show you one.”
“Tempting.” She smirked. “You live out here alone. I would appreciate your cooperation. No one is accusing you, but I figure you know these woods better than most.”
“I do.” He swaggered into her personal space. “I trap and trade quite a bit with the city folk. I bring some goods back to my people. What of it?”
There was an aura about this man that prickled her. It made her blood boil and her hair stand on end.
“Where were you last night around dusk?” she asked, taking her notepad out of her pocket. “What is your name?”
“Lots of questions. It’s Mati,” he answered in his deep voice, “and I was at one of the bars in town. Tim's.”
“Short for Uzumati?” She quirked an eyebrow as he nodded. “Can anyone vouch for you, Mati?”
“Sure.” He stepped closer. Her face flushed at his nearness. “Just ask the owner. He traded me some pelts in exchange for a few bottles of whiskey.”
“I want you to know,” Awen warned, placing her notepad back in her pocket, “if this doesn't check out, you're the closest thing I’ve got to a lead. If I were you, I wouldn't go anywhere.”
“What if I do?” he purred, brushing a hair out of her eyes. “Will you put your hands on me? Rough me up a bit?”
Her body warmed at his brief touch, but she knew what he was doing. She couldn't just feed into his intimidation. She slammed a boot down hard on his toes; he grunted in pain and stepped back.
“You've got fire,” he admired, chuckling at her. “I like you.”
“Let's just hope I get to continue liking you,” she answered, walking toward her father.
Did I really mean to say it like that? she thought as her father put his arm around her back, leading her away from the cabin.
Mati watched as the pair of them walked away. His dark and keen eyes took in her every movement. She was graceful, just like her namesake, and beautiful to boot. The cursed beast in him began to rise to the surface, fiercely longing for her to come back, but he quelled it. He had had hundreds of years to practice, after all.
He hadn’t expected the police to actually find the trail that led to the kill site; moreover, he hadn't counted on a Native American being one of them, let alone such a stunningly beautiful one. He shrugged his shoulders and walked back inside.
I'll just have to do better next time, he thought as he closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER TWO
Awen found herself thinking about Mati on the way back to the reservation. He was very intimidating, and more than a little flirtatious.
Not that I really minded that, she thought. I really hope he's not the one responsible for this.
“What do you think, Awen?” her father asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She was silent for a moment. She couldn't really say anything until she checked out his alibi.
“I think I need to check out his story,” she answered honestly. “Can't really say much until I do that. If it doesn't check out, then we have some digging to do. I’ll have to get to the bottom of it. If the man was actually trying to harm the girl, then that makes things all the more complex.”
“Hmm,” he muttered in agreement.
They reached the reservation in silence and headed back into the house. The smell of a fresh roast filled the house, bringing back so many memories of her childhood. Unfortunately, duty called and she couldn't stay.
“It was really nice being back,” Awen told her parents. “I have some work to do. If you don't mind, though, then I'd like to come and see you both soon.”
“Of course!” her mother answered enthusiastically. “We'd love that!”
Keme nodded his head as his daughter began to walk out the door.
“I love you, Mom, Dad,” Awen said, giving them both a hug as she left.
Keme patted her back awkwardly. “I'll walk you out,” he said, following quickly behind her.
Awenasa stepped out onto the porch into the cool evening air as her father closed the door behind them. She scuffed her boot nervously against the old wood beneath her feet. She missed this place more than she thought she would. Her father cleared his throat gruffly, staring at something off in the distance.
“I was...ah...proud of you today, Awenasa,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It brought me great joy, watching the way you handled yourself with that man.”
Awen looked at her father with surprise. She didn't expect this from him. Maybe he was finally coming around.
“You looked that hulk of a man in the eyes—a man who may have taken a life—and you handled yourself bravely,” he continued, sparing her a glance. “You earned my respect today. Especially when you stamped his overgrown foot in the dirt.”
She grinned at him, sheepishly dipping her head in embarrassment. When she looked up at him, he had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
“You brought me honor today.” He gripped her shoulder tightly. “I love you, my daughter.”
Awen's eyes filled with tears as she hugged her father tightly.
“I love you too, Daddy,” she murmured softly into his strong chest.
“Now,” he said, clearing his throat with watery eyes, “go show us all how to catch a killer.”
Awen jumped off the porch and into her Jeep. It took her some time to get back to the main road, as she tried to avo
id the ruts as much as possible. As soon as she had signal, she called John.
He answered on the first ring. “Took you long enough,” John exclaimed over background noise.
“Yeah, sorry,” she told him, “I had some digging to do. I'm on my way to check out an alibi. If this doesn't check out, we may have a suspect.”
“Good work.” He was munching on potato chips. “What's the story? I've got phones ringing off the hook and rumors flying all over the place.”
“Well,” she divulged, slowing down for a turn in the road, “a little girl came back late last night. She told her father that a man was following her through the woods, but the story from there on gets a little...hard to believe.”
“How so?” he asked. She could hear him taking down notes.
“She said that a bear killed our victim, but that he turned into a man,” she went on, trying to pay attention to the road. “I know. It sounds crazy, but my dad pointed me in the direction of a guy from the Walla Walla tribe. He lives alone between the two villages. He traps and hunts in the area a lot and he's as big as a bear, honestly. He said he was out at Tim's bar last night, so I'm checking him out. He seemed to suggest that our victim might have had it coming.”
“Well, that might be true,” John answered quickly. “I ran the man's name through the system. Jason Rhodes...he's a registered sex offender. Real sick bastard. Out on parole after serving six years for raping his daughter's six-year-old friend.”
“Jesus,” Awenasa gasped.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I almost don't care enough to find his killer, but justice is for everyone. If it turns out this guy's alibi doesn't check out, we may need to talk with that girl and get a statement.”
“No problem, John,” she said. A thought came to her mind. “Hey, do me a favor.”
John hesitated over the phone. “What kind of favor, Awen?”
“When I was talking to this guy,” she explained, “he said specifically that he doesn't kill innocent men. That really stuck with me. Could you run the names of the other victims and see if anything pops up?”
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