Hard To Bear (5 page)

             
“Old prude?  I’m not too old to whip your hiney, you senile hussy,” Maybelle snapped. 

             
“I’m sorry, what did you say? It’s hard for me to understand you when your dentures get loose like that.”

             
Maybelle shot out of her chair.  “Every one of my teeth are original, and you know that, you old witch!”

             
Coral leaped up.  “Ladies! We’re all on the same side!” They both turned to look at her, and she tried to think what side they were all on. “The side of truth, journalism, and the American way,” she finished quickly.

             
Would she have to put up with this if she were at big New York metro paper? She couldn’t imagine that she would.

             
Blanche shot Maybelle a frosty look. “I’m going to meet my coffee date.  I’ll figure it out before you do, I guarantee it.”  She glanced over at Coral.

             
Great, 75 year old women were getting more action than Coral.  What a surprise.

             
Blanche marched out of the office, and Maybelle scowled after her.              

             
“Could they have run off together?” Coral suggested.

             
“Doubtful.  David is 60.  Michelle is 22.  I know both of those families,” Maybelle said. “Both shifters.  David is a panther.  Michelle is a wolf shifter.  She doesn’t date outside of her species, and she liked them young and handsome.  I don’t see her going for David.  I’ll do a little digging, see what I come up with.”

             
Coral walked over to the publisher’s office.   Mr. Brewster, a human, had a big picture window which looked out on the newsroom, and ceiling high bookshelves stacked with books, journalism awards, and teetering piles of newspapers and magazines. 

He sighed when she walked in.

“I know she’s worried about her son, Coral, but the sheriff’s office doesn’t think that foul play was involved.”

             
“I get that she’s acting kind of cuckoo, but maybe it’s because her son’s disappeared and she’s going crazy with worry,” Coral said.  “What was your impression of him?”

             
William Brewster leaned back in his chair and stroked his gray-streaked beard. “He’d only worked here for a couple of months before he disappeared,” he said. “He was a quiet type.  Didn’t really chat it up with the other people in the newsroom.  I did get the impression that he wanted bigger and better things, that he was hungry for some big news.  It’s quite possible that he got bored here and that’s why he left. It happens.”

             
Imagine that, someone getting bored writing about escaped cows, Coral thought.

             
“What about the story he was working on? His mother said he was working on some big story right before he disappeared?”

“Not that he mentioned to me,”
Mr. Brewster said.  “She told me that too, but he’d never said anything to me about it.  I don’t know if she made it up to add some urgency to her investigation.”

“And the other disappearances?
Did she tell you about them?”

“Yes, but for the life of me I can’t see how they connect to each other.  I’m not even sure they are disappearances.  David is well known for chasing whatever tail catches his eye, and he’s left home before. Marie’s family is very over-protective, and she’s twenty-three years old. Maybe she just wanted a little freedom for once.”

“Do you mind if I stop by the sheriff’s office and ask a few questions?”

“
Be my guest.   I don’t think you’re going to come up with anything, though.”

The sheriff’s office was only minutes away from the newspaper. 
However, Loch was away on vacation with Coral’s sister Ginger.    In his absence, the Chief Deputy, Brock Carrillo, was the acting sheriff.   He was a large wolf shifter with a brush cut, middle aged, in pretty good shape but with a gut hanging over his belt.

When she asked him about Adrian Freidman, he made a sour face and shook his head
. 

“There’s no indication of foul play,” he told her. “We consider the case closed.”

“What about the other two disappearances that his mother told me about?”

“We’re not even sure that Michelle disappeared.
She’s a young woman travelling around Europe with friends.  She may just not have reported back to her family,” Brock said. “And Mr. Bollinger’s wife says he runs off with a new, as she puts it, ho-bag every few months, and she hopes he never comes back.”

“Three people from the same city who completely dropped off the face of their earth, all with family members they’d be unlikely to leave behind like this? That sounds like a bit of a coincidence.”

Brock scowled, looking annoyed. “Coincidences happen.”

Well, this was helpful.

“Did Adrian use his cell phone at all since he disappeared, or his credit cards?”

Brock paused, and it seemed as if he was considering what to say next.  “I can’t answer questions about an open investigation.”

“You just said the case was closed,” Coral pointed out.  He just leaned back in his chair and stared at her.

Now, this was interesting, she thought. She’d co
me here thinking that Adrian’s mother was most likely being paranoid. She’d mostly just wanted to assure herself that there was nothing here worth pursuing, but the way the chief deputy was giving her the runaround suddenly made her think that there might be something to what Adrian’s mother was saying.

But what could be the connection? Adrian was human, the other two people were shifters.  They had all disappeared from different places.  Given that the three people were a young man, an older man, and a young woman, it didn’t sound like a serial killer; they were completely different types, and serial killers usually had a type.
  And Ginger had said they weren’t dead.

Blue Moon Junction was the only connection between the three people, but Coral couldn’t imagine how that would help her.

“Do you have any more questions?” Deputy Chief Carrillo asked, glancing pointedly at his overflowing inbox.

“Yes, but you’re not going to give me a straight answer, so I won’t waste my time or yours,” Coral said, standing up.

“I see you’ve got your sister’s smart mouth,” the deputy said, his voice a low growl.

“If you don’t like my sister’s mouth, I’m sure you can take it up with the sheriff,” Coral snapped, struggling to keep her hackles from rising.  She could feel bones rippling in her face, and she suppressed a snarl
and fought down the urge to shift and throw down.  Nobody insulted her family like that.

Brock went pale.  Bad-mouthing the Alpha’s mate was a dangerous thing to do.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, looking shaken.

“Forget it,” Coral said, and turned and walked out of the office without a backward glance.

Flint leaned on the bar, nursed his bourbon on the rocks and glowered.  He was not a happy bear.  It was mostly his own fault, which annoyed him even more.  He’d stood up the reporter this morning, even though he’d been dying to have breakfast with her.  In bed, preferably. 

There had been some truth to his claim that he had been called away on an emergency
; there had been a report of more activity on The Site, and he’d shifted and gone out to do some recon.  However, anyone from his team could have done that.  The truth was, he’d sent Velma in his place because he had been thinking about Coral nonstop ever since he saw her sitting there in his office, and that scared him in a way he’d never felt before.

He
wanted to see the sexy wolf again so badly he couldn’t think straight,  which was exactly why he couldn’t see her again.  He couldn’t afford to be distracted at a time like this.   He had a mission to carry out, he had a cover to maintain. 

A treacherous part of his brain, the part that was connected directly to his dick, wondered if Coral couldn’t be part of that cover.   He was pretending that the only reason he and his crew were in town was to expand his family’
s business.   There was no reason for him not to go out on a date while he was in town, was there? Assuming she was even interested in a date. 

No, he told himsel
f sternly.  She was way too distracting.  Every time he called to check in with his team, every time he called headquarters, she popped into his head and he could barely think straight.  And that was from just meeting her once.  What would prolonged exposure do to him?

It was almost as if Coral was his fated mate.  Which was ridiculous.  He was a bear, she was a wolf, and frankly, he didn’t know if he even had it in him to settle down with anyone, ever.
  His work called him to all corners of the world.  What woman would put up with that?

To top
off his sour mood, he was stuck for the evening at this ridiculous bachelor auction that his mother had suckered him into.  She kept insisting that she’d waited long enough for her oldest son to give her grandcubs and if she didn’t nudge him a little, she’d never have any. 

To help him along, s
he’d volunteered him to attend the auction and neglected to tell him until the day it was being held. 

He had to admit, she’d been very clever about it. 
She knew that if she gave him any advance warning, he’d find a way to wiggle out of it, so she’d pulled a sneaky bait and switch.   She’d asked him to come over that evening for dinner with her and his father, and then called him up at 4:00 p.m. to confirm that he was still coming.  When he said yes, she’d told him about the bachelor auction, and he couldn’t even back out of it, because she knew he was free that evening.

Nobody else would have dare
d pulled that on him, but his Mama Bear could get away with anything. 

So here he was, stuck in the ballroom of a turn of the centur
y mansion with an endless stream of women “accidentally” bumping into him and trying to get his attention, when there was only one woman whose attention he wanted, and that was a woman he shouldn’t go anywhere near.  It was a complete waste of an evening, and then when someone bid on him he’d be stuck wasting yet another evening, but what could he do? At least they were serving top shelf liquor.

He le
aned back on the bar with a scowl, and took another sip of bourbon, letting the smoky liquid burn its way down his throat like sweet fire.    

“Buck up
. It’s for a good cause,” Creighton Leicester, a local wolf shifter, said.   The auction was a fundraiser for a new wildlife rehabilitation center.  

“I’d rather just write a fat check than have to parade up and down the runway like a parcel of meat,” Flint grumbled.

“There’s some attractive women here tonight,” Creighton pointed out. “I wouldn’t mind them checking out my meat.” He guffawed crudely at his own joke, and wandered off to mingle with the crowd.

“Why the pouty face?” a voice at his elbow said.  He turned t
o see Melinda Kramer, the bear shifter who was one of the construction supervisors in his crew – among her other roles.   Melinda was tall, about 6 feet, and had straight, shiny brown hair and an athletic build.  She looked out of place in her low-cut evening dress; Melinda was built to wear jeans and a t-shirt, or camouflage.  She didn’t do the girly thing very well.   

“Because I’d rather be anywhere else on the planet right now,” Flint said, but he managed a smile for her.  “What brought you here? Are you going to bid on some hot piece of manflesh?”

“
What, you mean like you?” she said, flashing a hopeful smile. 

His lips quirked in a wry smile
in return, but he didn’t answer.   Their history was long and complicated.  A year ago, she’d risked her life to save his.  They’d been on a mission to rescue a kidnapped operative in India, when things had gone south.  The local thugs who’d kidnapped their man had gotten word of the rescue operation, and several of their team had been killed. Melinda had pushed him out of the way just as he was about to be shot, and she’d literally taken a bullet for him.

He felt obligated to her, and she was also damned good at what she did. Unfortunately, she was also infatuated with him, and he didn’t return her feelings.
The more he pulled away, the harder she pushed.  It was becoming increasingly awkward between the two of them.

When he didn’t respond, her smile faded. “Just kidding. I meant, I could bid on you to spare you having to go on a boring date with some bimbo who’s desperate enough to come to one of these things.”

He shook his head.   There was no point in leading her on.  “Save your money,” he said gruffly, and walked away, setting his glass of bourbon down on the bar.

Suddenly h
e felt an odd tingling, and a pulsing in his groin, and he looked around the room to see why. 

Well, hello.
This was an interesting development.

It was Coral, and she looked good enough to eat. 

She was wearing a silky dress with a flared skirt. It dipped enticingly low at the neckline, revealing the ivory swell of her breasts.   Her curls were piled on top of her head in a delightfully messy bun; he wanted to mess her hair up even more.