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Stuffing an overloaded fork of pancakes in my mouth, I almost choke at what I hear from two tables down.
“You know another girl went missing?”
“Shh! Not here. Too many ears.” I assume this was said by the man in the dark blue dress shirt, his back to us. The man across from him wore a suit and had the look of a pencil-pusher.
“Why? Everyone knows that she is missing. Hell, with Smilebook, everyone in the county knows what happens before we do. Her mom posted it before calling us.” The man is the suit says. I watch as he takes a sip of coffee.
Blue shirt lowers his voice and if it weren’t for my shifter hearing I wouldn’t be able to hear what he says. “Yeah but they don’t know how many have gone missing. If they knew we were looking at ten open missing person reports, they would have my head.”
I glance at Tristan. He has heard what they said as well, and it is concerning. Is someone targeting this area for some reason? It isn’t that far a drive to the city, but it is fairly rural, with small agricultural towns for the most part. I would imagine that this area probably only saw one maybe two missing person cases a year, and those were probably mostly teenagers.
Pencil pusher leans in toward the middle of the table and whispers, “What about the bodies? How have you explained those?”
I can see dark shoulders tense; his breathing increases along with his heart rate. Obviously, this is something that stresses him. “Bear attacks. It is the only thing that makes sense.”
Tristan whispers, “What is going on in this town? People missing? Bear attacks? Besides Austin, I don’t think there are bears in these woods.”
Frowning I look around the diner. It is almost as if someone has sucked all the air from the room and everyone is holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. The two men at the counter keep looking at pencil pusher and dark shirt out of the corner of their eyes. Their heart rates are slightly elevated, as if they expect something to happen. Sniffing, I am surprised when I smell shifter, but the smell is mixed up. Kinda like Bunny’s smell.
“Bear attack?” Pencil pusher looks thoughtful. “Sounds as likely as anything else we have looked at.” And just like that the air in the diner returns and everyone is back to minding their own business. Something is going on in this county and it looks like I have stepped into it.
Throwing my napkin down on the table, I look at Tristan. “You ready to go?” Maybe it is the coming full moon, but I feel like my wolf wants out, like he wants to attack something.
“Yup.” Tristan stuffs the last bite of food into his mouth as I throw a wad of bills on the table. The longer I am in the diner, the more my shoulders itch and the harder it is to control my wolf.
As we walk out of the restaurant I smile at the waitress as she hollers, “Have a nice day!”
“Wh- ” Tristan starts, but I cut him off.
“So how was the coffee? Up to par?” I don’t want to talk ‘til we are well out of those shifters’ hearing. Something about them and the way they watched dark shirt, or the Sheriff, bothers me.
Tristan looks at me like I grew a second head. “It was okay, I guess.”
“Sure, you could taste it after burning your taste buds?” I grin, tossing the keys to him. “You drive. I want to look at something.”
Climbing into the passenger seat, I pull my phone out of the glovebox. Ignoring the flashing light that tells me I have a voicemail, and the little icon that says I have 13 unread text messages, I open Google.
Tristan pulls out into the road before speaking, “What was all that back there? I couldn’t see what was going on, but it felt tense. And what that Sheriff was saying...”
“Yeah, I’m looking it up now. You would think James would know about this; he tries to keep tabs on what is happening around pack lands.” I’m more worried than I let on and not sure if I should call James and give him a heads-up, especially with the shifters all headed out here.
“Think we should divert some of the shifters to the other Reserves? Or even the Lodge?” Tristan asks. He plays at not being serious, but when push comes to shove he would make an excellent Beta, except for the fact that he hates responsibility.
Blowing out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding, I respond, “I think I at least need to let James know. There is nothing reported in the news, so they are burying this. Maybe he can have the Arachnerds find something. I really didn’t want to talk to him until we had something to tell him.”
“Well, you do have something to tell him. Just not what you wanted.” Tristan replies. “Just rip the band aid off and do it. Then we can figure out what we are going to do.”