As much sense as it made to head back to the shop, Oakley couldn't resist the lure of the park, of finding a comforting tree to curl up in for a bit. There was nothing better for escaping the world than a good, warm and quiet hollow.
The park was just a couple of blocks away, the entrance a beautiful pergola that dripped colorful flowers in spring and summer, and vibrant autumn leaves in the fall. In winter, it was covered with evergreen, punctuated by sprays of holly with their bright red berries.
He strode through it, mindful of hidden patches of ice, and made his way slowly through the park until he reached the little nook that was his favorite. There was a giant koi pond, a bridge spanning it, and just past the bridge was an enormous old maple tree with exposed roots that formed nooks and hollows that were perfect for a fat racoon to get nice and cozy.
First, of course, he had to endure removing his clothes. He tucked them into a different hollow, shivering and swearing all the while, then finally shifted. The world was always so much bigger, more intimidating, when he shrank. How did it look to shifters who got bigger, like bears and horses and all?
He also loved the night vision, though he sacrificed being able to see at a distance clearly. The best part of being a raccoon, though, was his hands. They could feel every little thing; he could see with them better than with his eyes. It was the thing he missed most when he shifted back to human.
Shaking off the small bit of snow that had collected on his fur, Oakley climbed and shuffled his way into his favorite hollow, which kept him out of view of anyone or anything that might wander by, but allowed him to see the whole clearing—even if all he saw was a bunch of blurs.
Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and settled into a well-deserved nap.
*~*~*
He woke to the sound of someone calling his name. Oakley yawned and shuffled, stretching out stiffened muscles but not moving from his toasty nook. As he listened, he realized it wasn't one but two voices calling for him.
Still dark out, so he couldn't have been asleep for too long.
Michi and Arden, of course, though how they'd known to come looking for him here, he had no idea. His tree naps were his own private thing. The last time he'd told someone, he'd just gotten made fun of for being 'such a raccoon, good grief,' as though that was a bad thing. Why was it only the wolf, wildcat, and other such shifters who were respected for their animalistic sides? Why was a wolf cool for going out to hunt prey from time to time, but a raccoon taking a nap in a tree was laughable?
He sighed as he saw a couple of blurry shapes come over the bridge and move slowly into focus as they got within mere feet.
"Damn it, where is he? I know he always goes to the park when he's upset. How many places could there be for a person to hide?"
Michi gave a single, sharp laugh. "Man, you have no idea. I've seen full, grown-ass dudes hide in the weirdest, smallest places. That's not even counting the fact that Oaks is a raccoon. He could be…" He trailed off, and Oakley stifled a growl of annoyance, because from the way he was drawing closer it was clear he'd spotted something. Given the flashlights hadn't hit him in the face yet, it was probably his clothes that had given him up.
Sure enough, a moment later Michi pulled his jacket from where Oakley had stowed it, followed shortly by the rest of his clothes. "All right, Oakley, where the hell are you? Come on, it's shitty to keep hiding when you know we're worried and trying to find you."
Oakley growled and stayed right where he was. The flashlight beam immediately swung over to his position, and he growled again, much more loudly, until Michi hastily lowered it.
"Sorry."
Still growling and grumbling, Oakley leveraged himself out of his warm nook and into a snow drift. Shaking the worst of it off, he ambled over to his clothes and waited.
The pair stared at him a moment, then realization filled their faces and they turned their backs. Oakley shifted, rolled his eyes, and quickly dressed again, sitting on a relatively clear bit of tree root to pull on and lace up his boots. "Maybe you two could learn to take a hint and leave me the hell alone when I want."
"Maybe you could not run off into the night when there's a murderer on the loose," Michi snapped as he turned back around, once again shining the light dead into Oakley's face before dropping it. "We've been worried about you."
Oakley sighed. "I'm hardly in danger from a killer who snuck into somebody's house and stabbed him to death." He flinched as Michi's mouth flattened. "Sorry, that was out of line. I shouldn't be so flippant. But I still think you're overreacting."
"No, I'm not," Michi replied, striding up to him and dropping the flashlight in favor of grabbing Oakley's shoulders and giving him a teeth-rattling shake. "I have way more experience than you in this, and I'm telling you, there is no predicting how people like this will react to any given situation, except with violence. What if they chose to flee here like you did? Probably for all the same reasons: quiet, deserted, hard to find anybody in all these damn trees, especially if they prove to be a small shifter like you."
"Fine, whatever, I don't feel like adding another argument to the pile. I just want to go home, given I have to open the shop in just a few hours now." He scooped up the flashlight, shoved it back at Michi, and then walked off.
Maybe he should be cooled off by now, but he wasn't. The hurt, and therefore the anger, just wasn't going to go away that quickly. This whole time he thought he'd quietly been suffering a couple of harmless crushes and bothering nobody. Thought he'd actually scored a date despite the odds and the risks.
Only to find out that no, he was just the prize for a pair of competitive idiots who didn't even really want him.
He could hear their steps crunching behind him, the occasional furtive whisper as they discussed whatever, but Oakley ignored it all and just kept walking. He wished he could increase his pace, but that was just asking for trouble between the ice, the snow, and the dark.
They were about halfway through the park, just passing the manmade pond that was a frequent hangout spot for the local duck and geese shifters, when they heard a weird sort of scream. Michi swore, loudly and sharply. "Both of you stay right here. If you see anyone but me, fucking run like hell and get help, I don't care how worried you are about looking stupid later. Got it?"
"Got it," Arden replied, and Oakley gave his own affirmative before Michi ran off, shoving back his jacket to reveal the gun on his hip, make it easy to draw should he need to do so.
Then he was gone, vanishing into the gloom, calling out in a voice that was one hundred percent cop. Were they trained on that, or did they just pick it up? Whatever, he was focusing on stupid shit because then he could ignore Arden.
"Look," Arden said into the miserable silence. "I know you're still mad, as you should be, but we never saw you as a prize or anything like that. I'm sorry we fucked up so bad, I really am."
Oakley started to bite back in reply but reined in his temper and took a deep breath. "I honestly think I'll handle this better once I've had some real sleep, but I appreciate the apology, I do."
"I understand. In your place, I'd still be taking heads off and possibly throwing some punches. I wouldn't blame you if you did."
"I really don't care for violence," Oakley said with a grimace. "Never mind all the gossip that would flood the town if it got found out the cupcake guy slugged his manager and a cop just hours after a guy they all knew was murdered."
Arden looked toward where Michi had vanished. "I hope he'll be okay, and that whoever screamed is all right."
"Yeah," Oakley said. "What a shitty night." He shoved his hands into his pockets.
"It could definitely have gone better, overall," Arden said, and sighed.
They lapsed into silence again, though this time it wasn't nearly as tense and miserable.
Just as Oakley wanted to scream, a flashlight beam came bobbing its way steadily back to them—but as it drew closer, it revealed a disheveled and blood-covered Michi, his mouth set in a grim line.
"Oh, Jesus, are you okay?" Arden asked, rushing up to him as Oakley did the same.
Michi nodded and lowered the light slightly. "I'm fine. It's not mine. I found another stabbing victim. I called it in; they should be here any second. You'll have to wait here to give your own statements."
"We didn't do anything but stand here with our thumbs up our asses," Arden replied.
Oakley said, before Michi could reply, "We heard the scream, and we can verify that Michi didn't do it. Not that anyone would really believe that, but cops have to cover every base, especially in murders."
"Precisely." Michi sighed as the sound of sirens filled the air. "Have a seat on that bench. This could take a few hours."
"We probably should just declare the shop is going to be closed today," Arden said.
"I have too many orders that can't be cancelled," Oakley replied, biting back a whimper at the thought of all the work waiting for him, and all the sleep he wouldn't be getting first. "Coffee and energy drinks it's going to have to be."
"Ugh," Arden replied, and Michi just sighed as cops and medics came into view.
As threatened, the whole ordeal took hours. By the time they were free to go, and the county coroner had long since come and gone with the body—of a homeless woman, a ferret shifter who Oakley was always giving free food and coffee to—the sun was up and Oakley stood no chance of getting any of his orders done on time.
Not to mention he had vastly underestimated just how much the world would sway under the full weight of his exhaustion and an emotionally taxing day and night.
"Come on," Michi said. "Let's get you both home."
"Just take us to the shop," Arden replied.
Michi gave him a look. "Neither of you is doing shit today except sleeping."
"But—"
"Enough," Michi cut in, scowling until Oakley gave up. "I'll take care of it, all right?"
Arden smiled faintly. "For the record, I just meant we could sleep in the apartment above the shop. Closer and saves multiple trips."
"Now that's a plan I approve of." Michi waved goodbye to the last few officers at the scene, then hustled them out of the park and back to his house, where he all but shoved them into his SUV before driving off slowly down the street.
The snow made the trip twice as long as it needed to be, but Oakley was beyond caring, drifting in and out of a doze the whole way. When the car finally stopped and stayed that way, he dragged his leaden eyelids open to see they were in the alleyway behind the shop.
"Come on," Michi said, and got them up the backstairs, where he took the keys from Oakley's fingers, unlocked the apartment, and practically shoved them inside. "You guys rest. I'll see to the shop. Are there codes and stuff I need to know?"
"Security code is 798113," Oakley said around a yawn, and when Michi stared at him blankly, repeated it more clearly. "Everything else you need to know is in a binder in my desk. Bottom drawer. Key is on that ring. Thanks, Michi."
Part of him railed against letting someone else attend his store, especially as he had no idea what Michi planned to do, but most of him was simply too exhausted to do anything but strip down to boxers and crawl into bed.
He was out before his head hit the pillow.
When he woke, it was to a room full of fading sunlight and chilly air. Shivering, Oakley slid out of his warm-ish bed and went into the living room to muck with the thermostat—and drew up short to see Michi stretched out on his couch with only a throw pillow and single too-small blanket.
Oakley turned up the thermostat, then went to the linen closet and fetched a proper pillow and some heavier blankets. He half-expected Michi to jerk awake when he gently shook his shoulder, but Michi only snuffled and snorted and went right back to sleep. Rolling his eyes, smile tugging faintly at his mouth, Oakley swapped out the pillows and then dealt with the blankets.
Almost immediately, Michi seemed to settle more, sighing softly in his sleep as real warmth settled over him.
Fussing with the blankets briefly just to make sure there were no places cold air could slip in, Oakley then returned to his room and straight for the bathroom, where he pissed, brushed his teeth, and pondered a shower before the growling of his stomach reorganized his priorities.
He stepped out of the bathroom, and for a second time was brought up short as he realized that Arden was in his bed. On the side closest to the window, Arden was sleeping like the dead, only the slight rise and fall of his chest giving any sign he was still alive.
Well, it wasn't like there'd been any other place to sleep, unless he'd taken the floor, and it was way too cold for that.
Oakley headed back into the front room and crept quietly around the kitchen fixing himself something to eat. Thankfully, he was an old hand at fixing himself meals in the dark while the rest of the world was asleep.
In short order he had scrambled eggs, some microwave sausages, toast, and a glass of milk. He'd been tempted to make coffee, but he wasn't yet decided on what he was going to do after he'd settled his stomach, so no point in making himself stay awake yet.
The oven clock had reported it was just after five in the evening, so he'd slept the whole day—and the other two were still sacked out. Maybe they'd woken up earlier. Well, no, Michi probably hadn't even been asleep that long, since he'd volunteered to take care of the shop for him.
Which made Oakley deadly curious about what Michi had done. He couldn't hear anything going downstairs, but given the time of day, he wasn't likely to anyway. Whatever, one thing at a time, and right then it was time for breakfast. Dinner. Food.
He ate quickly, sitting at the kitchen table, careful to keep quiet so he wouldn't wake Michi. When he was done, he made a couple more pieces of toast while he loaded everything into the dishwasher. Taking the toast with him, he headed back to the master bathroom and decided a shower sounded like a great idea.
Closing the bathroom door quietly, he shucked his boxers, set the water to scalding, and climbed in.
A long while later, when his skin was practically squeaky and the poor water heater was giving up on life, he finally climbed out and toweled off.
Then realized he hadn't bothered to grab a change of clothes. Sighing at himself, he bundled up in a towel and ventured out. Thankfully Arden still seemed to be dead to the world, though he'd rolled so he was on his side, facing the window, rather than lying on his back.
Oakley tip-toed as quickly as he could over to his dresser, where he pulled on boxers, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and some socks before his toes froze to death on the frigid floor. He seriously needed to look into getting the whole place carpeted, or maybe go with heated floors.
Fed, refreshed, and dressed, he now had to decide what to do with himself. Go downstairs and investigate the shop? Or say fuck it and crawl back into bed? Or he could just go downstairs, fix a cup of coffee, and simply read and relax. Decisions, decisions.