Bear Witness

  Bear Witness

  Bear Wardens

  By

  Scarlett Grove

  ***

  Copyright © 2015 Scarlett Grove

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Join Scarlett Grove’s mailing list for updates on new releases. Click here to join my newsletter. Or come visit my website at www.scarlettgrove.com.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter One

  A gunshot cracked through the quiet forest, sending birds screeching into the sky. Candice Gray gasped and dropped her paint brush and watercolors on the pine needles scattered across the ground. She scurried to her feet, heart pounding.

  Movement down the hill, in the dark shadows between the trees, caught her eye. A whining groan carried over the distance and then went still. In shock, she slipped, sliding down the hill toward the groaning sound. When she found her feet again, she scrambled forward. Had something been shot?

  In the clearing, beyond a tangle of huckleberry bushes, a massive brown body lay sprawled across the ground.

  A grizzly.

  The animal’s chest rose and fell one last time, and the light dimmed in its dark eyes.

  A man barked at her from behind a stand of lodgepole pines. “Get out of here!” he yelled.

  Candice backed away. This was all wrong. She’d just wanted to capture the light streaming through the forest canopy on her week-long summer camping trip. Coming across an illegal hunting kill had not been part of the plan.

  She squinted at the shadows. The men weren’t wearing the standard orange hunting vests. She could almost make out their faces, but not quite.

  “Sorry,” she stammered, trying unsuccessfully to climb back up the hill.

  “Come on!” the other man yelled at the first. Candice turned to see them disappearing into the trees.

  She slid down on her behind, her khaki pants smudged brown and green from dirt and pine needles. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself from the shock.

  Candice scrambled to her feet and attempted to get to her things on top of the small ridge. Try as she might, she couldn’t climb up the hill. Every time she took a step, she slid back down, leaving her at the bottom, facing the dead grizzly.

  “Why does this always happen to me?” she whimpered.

  “Why does what always happen to you?” a deep voice asked.

  Candice gasped and snapped her eyes up to find a man standing over the grizzly. He held a shotgun in his hand, was dressed in blue jeans and a brown uniform top, and had a shiny badge on his chest.

  He turned his face to her, his dark eyes hidden under the brim of a black cowboy hat.

  “What happened here, ma’am?” he asked in a rumbling, gritty voice.

  “I…I was painting,” she stammered, struggling to her feet. Her behind was dirty and damp from the fall. Blood pulsed in her ears, but her breathing began to calm.

  “I’m Warden Wyatt McCloud. What is your name?”

  “Candice…Candice Gray. I was just painting, and there was a shot. The bear. I think it’s dead. The hunters ran. I didn’t think hunting was allowed here.”

  “It’s not.” Wyatt strode around the bear, his heavy boots moving lightly over the ground. He sniffed the air and bent down to a squat, resting his arm on his thigh. “You saw the hunters?”

  “I did, but I don’t think I could recognize them if I saw them again. They were in the shadows between the trees over there.” She pointed to where the hunters had been.

  Wyatt growled and stood. His long strides carried him effortlessly through the forest to where she’d pointed. He came back a moment later with a shotgun shell. He sniffed it and angled the walkie-talkie on his shoulder to his lips.

  “McCloud here. I’ve got a dead grizzly up on the north face of the mountain. Going to need backup to clear it out.”

  He turned to Candice as she stood helplessly at the bottom of the hill, her painting things still at the top. The light streamed through the treetops and caught Wyatt’s features. The planes of his masculine face were illuminated by the diffused light. Sun sparked in his deep green eyes, and they danced with amber around the irises.

  Catching her breath for the first time, Candice took him in. Holy crap is he good looking. Six foot six and built like an athlete. Maybe it was the adrenaline talking, but she’d never seen a man so unbelievably…male.

  His dark brown hair curled around the back of his neck, under his cowboy hat, and a five o’clock shadow dusted his manly, square jaw. She bit her lip and took a step back, her heart beating anew. He looked her up and down, nostrils flaring, and then made a growling sound in the back of his throat.

  “You said you were painting?” he asked her.

  “Yes. I was on a hike, painting the forest, when I heard a shot. It scared me to death. Then I fell. My stuff’s still up there.” She gave him a weak smile and pointed up the hill. “I can’t get back to it.”

  He made that growly sound again and charged up the hill. In a few deft movements, he gathered her things and brought them to her.

  A handful of forest rangers came up the hillside on ATVs. She glanced at the bear and then tripped backward at the sight. Falling into Wyatt’s arms, she heard a woman scream, but didn’t know where it had come from.

  Everyone stopped. The rangers gasped. Wyatt growled.

  “No!” Candice yelled.

  On the ground, naked and covered in blood and dirt, was a dead man.

  Chapter Two

  “It’s a shifter,” Wyatt said, examining the body. He’d suspected it from the start, but the intoxicating aroma coming off of the curvy hiker had clouded his senses. He hadn’t recognized the bear at first, but the man he knew from his local clan. “Colin Chase. He owns a small wilderness supply store by the river.”

  “That’s Colin, all right,” said one of the rangers.

  “I’m calling this in,” Wyatt said to the rangers as they milled around the body. “Don’t touch anything.”

  He stepped away and radioed in to the station. A few sheriff’s deputies would be on their way in minutes. In the meantime, he had a sweet-smelling, terrified hiker to attend to. He scanned her heart-shaped face and the soft brown hair that tangled around her shoulders from the fall. Flashing hazel eyes looked up at him with so much trust, it made his heart jump in his chest.

  “I’d like you to come down to the station with me to give a statement, ma’am.”

  “Okay,” she stammered, her eyes tired and glossy with unshed tears. She stumbled toward him, holding her painting supplies clumsily in her shaking hands.

  “Here,” he said, offering her support as she struggled over the uneven ground. “The main trail is just around the corner.” Sh
e took his hand, and an electric spark shot through his arm. He sucked a quiet breath through his teeth.

  This woman was more than just a witness in a homicide investigation. His inner bear rumbled and clawed inside his mind as he helped her to the main trail. Her little hand felt soft in his big, rough one. When they made it to the trail, he reluctantly let her go.

  “What are you doing up on the mountain?” he asked her. Pressure built in his chest and tightened around his heart. Why did she affect him like this?

  “I’m here on vacation. I like to get away from the cubicle and the city to paint in the forest for a week or so a year.”

  “Where are you from?” he asked, making it seem like he was taking notes for the investigation. In reality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about Candice Gray.

  “I’m from Seattle. I work in administration at a tech corporation.”

  “You aren’t a painter?” he asked, glancing at the watercolor hanging out of her painting box.

  She turned to him and opened her mouth in a smirking smile. “No. I’m not a painter. Just an office drone.”

  “How long will you be in town?” The thought of her leaving made his bear angry. He shoved it aside. His bear could be irrational sometimes. When he saw or smelled something he wanted, he went full bore at it until he got it. Wyatt knew he couldn’t approach Candice that way.

  “This was my first full day at the park. I can’t believe I witnessed something like that. That man was a shifter. What are the odds? Until just a few weeks ago, no one even knew they existed. Now I see one shot in the woods. It’s crazy!”

  “A lot of people are shocked,” he said. Since the shifters had decided to come out to the public last month, there had been push back from the humans. Several shifter hate groups had cropped up in no time flat.

  Wyatt hadn’t supported the plan to come out to the public. He’d always thought it was dangerous. But the voice of a single game warden in rural Montana couldn’t hold back the tide of change. Now they would see the outcome of their decision to go public. Could this homicide be a repercussion of that decision?

  “It’s a new world. That’s for sure,” Wyatt said. “You’ve never had any contact with shifters?”

  “Not that I know of. I can’t even imagine.”

  Wyatt rumbled. He kept his guard up around humans. He hadn’t come out yet, though he thought maybe Sheriff Jefferies suspected. A lot of Montana game wardens had revealed themselves to be grizzly bear shifters. His kind were well suited for the job of protector of the forests and the wildlife that lived there.

  “Have you ever met a shifter?” she asked him.

  “Maybe.”

  They made it down the trail to his truck. The logo of the game wardens emblazoned on the doors—a grizzly bear inside a sheriff’s star. That logo always made him chuckle. He opened the door for her and helped her climb inside. She set her painting box on the backseat and fastened her seatbelt as he got in the driver’s seat.

  “Do you think this was a murder?” she asked.

  Wyatt turned to her and frowned. The thought had crossed his mind. There were plenty of shifter haters out there. It was similar to all other irrational human prejudice. “Don’t know,” he said, turning the key in the ignition, but he had a pretty good idea.

  Chapter Three

  Candice looked out the window as they drove. She’d always loved this part of Montana. She’d grown up in the wilderness as a little girl, before her parents died and she’d had to move to Seattle to live with her aunt and uncle in a condo. Ever since, she’d longed to go back home. But like everything else she really wanted, it wasn’t practical.

  It wasn’t practical to live in the country. It wasn’t practical to be a painter. It wasn’t practical to fall madly and deeply in love. At twenty-six, Candice Gray had given up on all her dreams.

  As she watched Wyatt McCloud driving his powerful game warden truck down the rural highway, she had a tingling in her belly she hadn’t felt in a long time. This guy was the real deal. Like some kind of mythical cowboy out of an old western movie.

  Candice had never wanted a man to save her from anything or provide her anything she couldn’t provide for herself. But the sight of Wyatt made her think that a man like that could give her something far better. She giggled under her breath as the tingle coiled around the base of her spine.

  “What is it?” Wyatt asked in that low, rumbling voice of his.

  “It’s nothing. I just remembered something my aunt told me before I left.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her mind raced to come up with something. She couldn’t tell him she’d been imagining those big arms encircling her curvy frame.

  “She warned me about bears in the woods. Told me to pack bear spray. She never said anything about shifters being murdered.” Her aunt really had said all that. Reliving what she’d just seen made her feel faint.

  Wyatt just rumbled and gripped the steering wheel more tightly. “She was right. We do get plenty of bears up here. Black, grizzly. Got to be careful. A real grizzly can take your head off.”

  “I know. I’ve had wilderness training. Usually, I’m safe out there.”

  He glanced at her, his eyes scanning her rugged khaki pants, lightweight button-up shirt, and hiking boots. He nodded. “I’m sure you are. What makes a city girl like you want to come out here by yourself?”

  “Who says I’m by myself?” she said with mock offense. Did he just assume she didn’t have a boyfriend or even a friend out here with her?

  “You never mentioned anyone else.”

  “True. Well, I am alone. Anyway, I’m not really a city girl. I’m from Montana, actually. Born and raised, until my parents died when I was thirteen. That’s when I moved to Seattle to be with my aunt and uncle. Do you need to know this for the investigation?” She was beginning to feel uncomfortable talking about her personal life with a stranger.

  “No.” He pulled in front of a small sheriff’s station on the edge of town and cut the engine. He came around to her door and helped her out of the truck, not that she needed it. But it was raised fairly high off the ground. He led her into the station and brought her back to his office.

  “Would you like some coffee?” he asked, after showing her to a seat in front of his desk.

  “Sure.”

  Wyatt left Candice alone in the room, and she looked around at his things. It was a smallish space, with shelves of books on wildlife management and ecology stacked against the wall. Filing cabinets and a few houseplants in the window. His framed degrees hung on the wall next to a framed award.

  The space was tidy and had a homey feel to it, even though it was clearly a functioning office in a sheriff’s department. Wyatt came back a moment later with two paper cups of coffee and handed her one of them.

  “You seem like a cream and sugar kind of girl,” he said, sitting behind the desk.

  Candice took a sip. It was exactly how she liked it. “Mmm. Thanks. This is perfect after what I’ve been through today.”

  “I’d like to get a better description of the men who ran from the scene. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “They weren’t wearing hunting vests.”

  “There were two?”

  “Yes. I think. I heard two.”

  “Can you describe them?”

  “I only kind of saw one of them. He had dark hair. At least it looked dark in the shadows, and he was tall, taller than the second man.”

  “What kind of builds did they have?”

  “Big, like they worked outdoors, but not as big as you.” She looked away when she said the words, heat rising in her face. Wyatt was an impressive man. Everything about him made her burn with excitement. She’d just witnessed a murder and a dead shifter change into a man. She shouldn’t be flushed with arousal.

  Wyatt rumbled. “I’m going to record this,” he said, bringing a tape recorder up to the desk top. “Please tell me what happened from the beginning, in
your own words.”

  Candice recounted the story from the beginning, ending with the dead man on the forest floor. When she was done, Wyatt turned off the recorder and thanked her for her statement.

  “I need to talk to the sheriff. I’ll be right back to drive you to your campsite.”

  Candice watched Wyatt’s perfect behind walk out the door, leaving her breathless with her heart pounding.

  Chapter Four

  “Sir. I got the witness’s statement. Are the deputies back from the scene?”

  “Yes,” said Sheriff Jefferies. “They didn’t find much. Some shells. A few footprints. Not much else. We’ve IDed the body and are notifying next of kin.”

  “Do you suspect foul play?”

  “It could very well be a case of mistaken identity. A failed hunting attempt. That remains to be seen. There is no precedent for this kind of thing, with shifters just coming out to the world. I’d like you to continue to investigate this case with Deputy Morris.”

  “I understand, sir. I’ll take a look at the forensics reports when I get back from taking the witness to her campsite.”

  “Did you learn anything new from her?”

  “Not really. She’s in shock. Don’t like the idea of taking her back up the mountain by herself. Might try to convince her to get a hotel room in town.”

  “She’s going to be here a while?”

  “About a week.”

  “Should be long enough to wrap this up.”

  Wyatt had a bad feeling that this was more than just mistaken identity. Even in his small mountain town, he’d heard bigoted comments from the locals and tourists alike.

  He turned to go, nodding at Sheriff Jefferies as he closed the door. Back in his office, he found Candice worrying her full bottom lip in a frustratingly enticing way. She smelled like sunshine and rain. Her scent made his bear roar and his shaft twitch. Damn.

  “Let’s get you back home,” he said, holding the door for her. She stood, smiling up at him through her dark eyelashes. Without a spot of makeup and wearing her dirty hiking clothes, Candice Gray was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.