Bear Meets Bride (Online Shifter Dating Agency Romance) (8 page)

12

The days turned into a week before anything else was heard of the killer. When it happened, Tom was left wishing he had been there, because it resulted in a close call in terms of catching the man, or at least making an identification of him. However, the circumstances failed to offer any relief for what the shifter’s intentions were in that he had renewed his attempt on Nana’s life.

Either after a quiet week he had taken the chance that the hospital guard might have been relaxed, or else the burning sensation from the silver was enough for him to take his failure personally and seek out revenge (Tom never planned on finding out but he had heard that quality silver caused genuine agony for a shifter—and Nana was just the type of person to have quality silver). Whatever the reason, it was poor Nana yet again who would have to be told she had survived a second attempt on her life. The killer’s twisted heart could really not have been choosing any more popular members of the community to threaten if he tried.

Tom had been on the way from Erin’s bakery when the call over the radio had come, from none other than Jake himself. The sheriff told him that a man matching the attacker’s description had been intercepted trying to access Nana’s secure hospital room but foiled. A hurried attempt to keep him in the building had been unsuccessful, though the direction of the man’s escape had been clocked and, as both he and Jake had been less than ten minutes away at the time, sirens were in action and an attempt to make a speculative search of his whereabouts was underway.

Tom had never felt so intent on catching a criminal, but ten minutes felt like an age when time was of the essence and, after a further twenty minutes of driving around—occasionally crossing routes with Jake in the process—they had to reach the disappointing conclusion that the chance was missed. Despite having a description, they knew nothing about whether the man was walking, using a vehicle or public transport—or else heading straight to the undergrowth and speeding off in bear form. Should they seek him on the sidewalk or plunge into the nearest woodland? It was impossible to tell for certain. This was Montana and there was plenty of it, regardless of how many restrictions were placed on footpaths.

With no other choice but to retreat and gather their wits again, Tom met up with Jake at the hospital and found him already there talking with Nana. He had visited her briefly a couple of times during the week but was pleased this time to see her on her feet. Her sharp mind was back to usual, in fact, and paid little attention to the bruises she was still sporting, meaning that both of them had to compete a little to be in charge of her. Nana was too used to being the brains of their operations and so, predictably, she was arguing with Jake about returning to work.

“It’s out of the question, Nana,” he heard Jake saying as he entered. “In fact… oh, look, here’s Tom; Tom do me a favor and talk some sense into this willful creature here, will you?”

“We’ve had her out of our hair for seven days and didn’t know how lucky we were,” Tom joked. “Now is she back causing trouble again?”

“She’s going on about returning to work,” Jake replied.

“I’m fine,” Nana insisted.

“And I’m here,” Jake added, “to break it to her that, not only can she not return to work—what an absurd suggestion—but just like my dear wife and kids she’s going to have to be moved out of town; into protective custody in fact.”

“Listen to him, Nana,” Tom said, interrupting her before she could respond, “this good old boy is treating you like family…and he’s right anyway.”

“Damn sure, I’m right,” Jake went on, grateful for the support in combating Nana’s assertiveness. “We want you safe, not a target.”

“But can’t I just have an armed officer at the house?” Nana pleaded. “I’ve been in here a week already and there’s so much that needs doing.”

“Nothing is
that
important. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it so you can take your fiancé with you and this thing isn’t going on much longer, take it from me.”

“That’s what they kept saying about the First World War,” Nana responded, trying to be as insolent as she could about the fact that she was having to back down.

“I’d forgotten how much you love history,” said Tom, trying to cheer her up. “It’s your own fault, though, for being too valuable, otherwise we’d let you take your chances.”

He winked as he made the joke, and Nana almost smiled.

“Exactly,” Jake agreed, nodding his head, “but we need you out of the picture on this one. Let him come after someone with a gun if he wants to hurt the police; he’s a big grizzly after all.”

“You could give me a gun,” Nana suggested, sulkily.

“Coming from the person who insisted I buy a humane mouse trap for the workplace when I found that one had been chewing on my sandwiches, I don’t imagine that’s the best suggestion. No, we like you just as you are, Nana. Alive and with a heart of gold that wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

So it was settled. Jake had already been in correspondence with the relevant departments anyway—the discussion had only taken place to make matters seem more amicable, but Nana knew she had no choice. There were some picturesque valleys in South Dakota that Jake promised Nana would not want to leave after a week, though Tom thought this a bit farfetched, knowing that she would be waiting for news on when she could return every day that passed. She was a control freak; the pleasant kind for sure, but she wouldn’t relish any getaway that she didn’t have a say in.

Bidding her farewell, the two of them left Nana still under armed guard and now awaiting a pick-up that would take her far away. Up until then, Tom had found it hard to tell what Jake was thinking, managing a storm as he was that was coming at him from all angles. After they left Nana, however, Tom thought he recognized the same determined expression that he had been sporting in looking to bring this hell to an end. Never had a case divided their forces so much; Jake’s own family were in Oregon, and now he had sent an invaluable colleague almost as far in the other direction. His service was relying on backup staff and all the communities under his remit needed this killer caught in order for life to return to normal.

Until then their home was invaded and in peril.

The two of them had spoken a lot on the phone over the last week, but usually fast and blunt conversations, and so now felt like a good time to seize the opportunity for a real catch up. Jake suggested they get a coffee somewhere and they took a walk to a nearby diner.

“How’s that new gal of yours?” Jake asked as they were on their way.

“She’s good, actually. Thanks for the extra deputies to watch over her when I’m not there,” Tom replied. “She’s pretty resilient, in fact, and I’m relieved she doesn’t seem to be blaming me for any of this.”

“Why would she?”

“If we hadn’t hooked up, she would never have become a target.”

“You sure about that? Has it not occurred to you that she was just another means of being vindictive towards the force in general? As far as I’m aware no one knew about you and Erin, so it would be a strange coincidence if the killer did.”

“But then why go for her?”

“Because of the bakery, of course; a haunt for the local cops. He didn’t go after anyone with a gun; he went after office staff, a popular food provider and loved ones—my wife can handle a gun, of course, but he wouldn’t know that.”

“Maybe you’re right, although…”

“Although what?”

“I guess I’ve been reading too much into the bear shifter thing,” Tom said. “I know this might sound self-centered, but ever since we started finding the bodies I’ve been under the impression that this bastard knows who I am. He’s obviously enjoying the notoriety and getting a sick kick out of the attention; why wouldn’t finding out there is a bear shifter cop on the case cause him further amusement?”

“Hmm! I can see why you might think that,” Jake agreed.

“I hadn’t told anyone about Erin until you, but if he had his eye on me then he could have seen us together. Plus his other main targets have been my ex-girlfriend and the family of the guy who I work most closely with—he probably thinks we’re friends or something.”

‘As if I’d be friends with you!” Jake joked. “But yeah, we should keep it in mind. If that’s the case, I’ll have extra backup keeping an eye on your street. Could be he’s watching you discreetly. I’m still not sure about the theory, but we have to be as thorough as possible. Today’s little incident will help us keep much of the outside backup, but if he goes back to being cautious again it will eventually ebb away.”

“Whoever he is,” Tom decided, “he’s an arrogant bastard.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He was trying to be too clever today—looking to reach Nana under armed guard. It was arrogant to think he could pull that off when there are so many easier victims to choose from.”

“Bear has an ego.”

“This one does, for sure. There must be a way that can work in our favor…”

A distasteful idea flashed into Tom’s mind right then. Though he dismissed it immediately, there had been an honest reason for it manifesting. Two out of three of the desired victims had been removed; Jake’s family and now Nana Morgan, which left Erin. If he was a ruthless and uncompromising man, he would think of some brilliant way for Erin to be bait for catching the killer, assuming that the only known target still in the vicinity would become the focus.

But Tom wasn’t that kind of cop. The thought of risking Erin to draw out the murderer made him feel sick, and he was not about to presume he was clever enough to pull something like that off anyway. Tom knew he was far from stupid, but he didn’t think of himself as a mastermind either. Such a hare-brained scheme felt certain to turn bad, and he wouldn’t have blamed Erin for never forgiving him if she was used in such a way, so he did not voice any such idea to Jake. All the same, the thought that Erin might now become the killer’s sole focus lingered. He would have to make sure his safeguarding of her was tight, even if they heard nothing else for another week or two, but more than that, he would have to try and think like their tormentor. Whether he liked it or not, his girlfriend might end up becoming the bait in the end. Maybe they had been watched all week for just such an opportunity, causing the killer to grow frustrated and decide to try for Nana instead.

Tom had tried to adhere to a certain line of discipline between realism and paranoia up until then, but that line was now shattered because the chips at stake were too precious to risk dismissing the wildest of interpretations.

Erin
meant too much to him for it to be any other way.

13

Erin would’ve caused Tom more problems than she realized if it had turned out they didn’t enjoy living together, or were having second thoughts about taking what was still a very young relationship so seriously. Fortunately this was not the case, even though Tom was often distracted and thoughtful over the bear serial killer case. If it took extra effort to get his attention, then that was fine because distraction didn’t equal disinterest and Erin was able to use whatever subtle—or not so subtle means—at her disposal to draw his mind away from the case. She knew that was the only problem and, once the community was able to put all the horrors behind it, that the delight Tom had in her company could then be uninterrupted.

The only curious moments, during which Erin thought Tom might have wanted to say something then held back—though occurring in such a way that she wondered whether it was to do with something other than work—happened twice when they were eating. Erin had gotten used to Tom’s massive appetite and delighted in cooking a few more dishes for him that he had never tried before, knowing how appreciated they would be by someone who loved his food so much. She had become less shy about commenting on it, however, although one time when she said, “You’ve got an appetite to rival any real bear shifter, my love,” his reaction was to pull a confused expression.

“Erin,” he asked in response, “just out of curiosity, how did you come across that dating site?”

“It just came up on a search,” she explained, “several pages down Google. I was thinking of picking one of the top sites when the word ‘Dare’ just attracted me; it was exactly what I needed to do. Lucky for us I did, huh?”

“Definitely. So it was just the word ‘Dare’?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t about to be baring my flesh on there, if that’s what you mean. Though I’ve heard people do that. Why, were you expecting a nudie pic?”

“No. That’s not what I was looking for.”

“Did any of the other users ever send you a nudie pic, Tom?” she asked, trying but failing not to giggle.

“No, but one of the other users—I think a troll account—sent me a picture of a salmon.”

“A salmon? Why?”

“I think it was supposed to be a joke at my expense.”

Erin’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why is a salmon insulting?”

“Well, I didn’t find it particularly funny,” he replied. “Didn’t you notice anything about all the male profiles on there, though? Like it was an acquired taste?”

“Hmm…now you mention, although I specified that I liked big hunky guys like yourself, there were an incredible amount of results that flung back; page after page. I guess it’s true what they say.”

“What’s that?”

“About the human species getting bigger and taller all the time—except for me, of course. I’ve been five foot three since I was thirteen, and I haven’t grown an inch since.”

“So you don’t think all the shift… all the profiles were drawn there for a reason?”

“Oh, I see what you mean. So it helps for men of a certain physique to target the same site, knowing that ladies who like their type will be drawn to it. I can see how that works. Why waste time browsing through dating sites of men who don’t fit your preference? Guess I was lucky finding the right one.”

“We were both lucky,” Tom replied but, although Erin had thought it a casual conversation, her man seemed incredibly contemplative about the whole website mystery for some time afterwards. Maybe it was just his IT obsession, or else there was something about what goes on with dating sites to which she was ignorant? Could he have been misbehaving on there? Prowling around with the intention of using the site for no strings attached sex, only to accidentally come upon a meaningful relationship? If this was true then she had won him over in spite of himself, although on some level she should have been able to give him grief for it.

Maybe he would get round to telling her in his own time, but until this bear shifter case thing was dealt with, she decided not to pry. As the first week since they moved in together had passed, Erin had not really given the case much thought. Being with a new love was still too overwhelming for her to feel that anything going on in the outside world concerned her at all. She thought the killer’s presence outside her house a complete coincidence, was grateful for the police protection, though still felt pretty divorced from proceedings. The story would dissipate at some point, life would return to normal and she would not have to cut off any more hours in her bakery.

All this, until a strange dream she had after the first week of her sleeping in Tom’s bed. A change of surroundings can often be disorientating, especially to the unconscious mind, but for the first seven days Erin had hardly noticed any such effects at all, wrapped up as she was with being in Tom’s arms every night. What happened outside of those bulky tendons was of no concern.

That was until a feeling of unease started to convince her she should desire more alertness.

Perhaps the mind is aware of more than we realize during sleep. Whatever the reason, Erin woke up on Monday morning convinced that something was scratching at the wall outside. Jumping out of bed immediately to take a look had only resulted in a view of the calmest street scene you can imagine, with the exception of Tom’s next door neighbor mowing his lawn, to whom she came very close to accidentally flashing her breasts.

One strange awakening wasn’t going to trouble her, however. Most likely she had confused the sound of the lawn mower with something she had been dreaming of; an explanation that would have sat just fine with her if the hint of a bad dream had not recurred, but the following few nights taught her that sleep could no longer be trusted.

Very quickly, she was having more dreams than it was possible to be aware of, combined with waking up suddenly again. At first this was reserved for the final hour before their alarms went off, but by the end of the week Erin was having fitful sleep throughout the night and even had to get out of bed and look out of the window a couple of times to convince her mind that nothing was there and it was safe to close her eyes again. As for those dreams, they were not really stories so much as a state of mind ruled by fear and apprehension, although Erin was convinced that she was in a dark forest, occasionally having the impression of surroundings ferns and something prowling.

Undoubtedly the bear shifter case had begun to affect her in some way also, though she could not for the life of her figure out why, as Tom was keeping her safe with him. Until some brief waking dream about scratching near the window, she hadn’t given her own safety a second thought in days. Neither did she go about her days looking over her shoulder or fearing the sight of a furry face—but that was until a thought occurred to her.

What if her nightly imaginings were in fact based on something tangible? Consciously, she hadn’t been concerned with danger, but unconsciously she had become aware of it.

Maybe because there was something unnerving actually going on…

Learning that the killer had gone quiet might’ve meant that he was lying low, but it could also mean he was in the process of employing some devious trick or game. Like a stalker, maybe he was really hanging around the house, in human or bear form and looking for ways to unsettle them both. Maybe the scratching at the walls had really happened and, although not loud enough to wake her, was alarming enough for her unconscious mind to retain when it did.

As soon as she asked herself this question, Erin was plagued by knowing that she couldn’t tell for certain. There were all kinds of speculations to be made about what goes on in the human brain, and she wasn’t the one to make them, or pretend to be too clever about studying and analyzing them for that matter. But by the time a week had passed and she was increasingly on edge, Erin decided she could not keep the feeling inside much longer. She was anxious about changing the nature of the set-up with Tom (bad dreams aside, she was pretty happy), but she wanted to sleep soundly at night again.

The decision meant a change of tack. She would actually have to speak to Tom about the case.

Up until then, they had only exchanged the occasional comment on proceedings, mostly to reassure each other than there were better subjects to think about and it would all be over soon. Now she would have to take an interest and hope that Tom didn’t feel pestered by having her pry.

It was on their drive back from the bakery the following Saturday that she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to broach the subject.

“Tom, I erm…” she began, tentatively. “I was just wondering if you’ve been having trouble sleeping?”

“To be honest, my sleeping’s been pretty unpredictable since this case began,” he replied. “Although I have slept much better with you beside me. Why do you ask?”

“Oh. This last week I’ve just started to have these strange dreams. I don’t mean to bother you with them—I guess the murders are starting to play on my imagination a bit.”

“Don’t worry, Erin. I’ve been astonished by your resilience so far and fully expected you to be freaked out long before now. So what happens in these dreams, dare I ask? Are they horrible?”

“Nothing much happens in them, except I feel scared. The problem is that when I wake up—which is increasingly often—I have the distinct impression that there is someone in the garden or just outside the window.”

Tom leaned over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry if all this is causing you nightmares. Have you actually heard any sounds outside of sleep?”

“Well, that’s where we get into grey areas,” she confessed. “I’m becoming a bit sleep deprived, and I’m starting to be uncertain of what’s real and what’s dream. A couple of times I’m sure I’ve heard scraping on the walls of the house, but on looking out of the window there’s been nothing there. Although by then the sounds have also stopped.”

Tom was silent and thoughtful.

“I wondered if there might be some ferns or something. You know, scraping against the house in the wind, but I’ve had a look in the day and can’t see any suspects in need of the chop.”

Still Tom did not respond.

“I didn’t want to bother you about the case, but…”

“It’s all right,” Tom reassured her, “I was just thinking. I don’t want to alarm you either, but there’s more to this than meets the eye. Jake is uncertain about this shifter’s motivations, but he is at least considering that my theory might be right.”

“What theory?”

“Well, it’s complicated, but it mostly revolves around the killer being both clever and vindictive. We know he’s been looking to disrupt police operations and I honestly wouldn’t put it past him to try and upset our lives in whatever way possible—while things are still at a stalemate.”

“You think there could be something in it?”

“I need to take a look round the house when we’re back,” he said, “and maybe I should stay up and do a surprise inspection in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t take risks, Tom.”

“Oh, don’t worry. The only risk will be the ones he’s taking if he really is stalking the house. I’ll be armed with my revolver, after all…and I’ll smell the bastard if he’s been around.”

“Why’s that? Do bears stink?”

“Oh, I mean… it was just a form of expression.”

“Cop talk, like having a hunch?”

“Well, yeah… no, it means more than a hunch. It means being certain of something.”

Erin thought to tell him her story about the time she caught a wild bear in her bakery and started hitting it with a broom to get rid of it, but then thought better of it. Tom needed to be confident in her reactions right now and, brave as it might have sounded, he would probably not be thrilled with the knowledge that she’d once such an unpredictably gung-ho approach to peril.

That poor bear, though,
she thought.
I must’ve scared the thing half to death!