Five
You have a bear on your ass
Max felt his anger spike as he stared at the shovel-crane that hauled his logs to transport trucks. This company, his family’s legacy, it was all on the line and he needed a plan to stop the threat. Running his hand over the rough bark of a tree, he tilted his head back and focused on the branches protruding thick and sturdy off the side. All his life, all he ever wanted was to be a lumberjack. The idea that it could end with the swipe of a pen and fifty thousand signatures hadn’t settled in—until that exact moment.
Kneeling near the river, he grabbed a handful of dirt and let it sift through his fingers as he watched, admiring the richness of the dark color. As he stood to leave, he heard birds take flight across the river, high up on the ridge, so he turned his eyes and watched as they ascended into the sky. Brushing his hands together, ready to head to his truck, the quiet of the mountain was broken when someone burst through the bushes on the ridge, screaming in terror. He watched, in startled disbelief, as Mia ran straight off the edge and plummeted into the river below.
Trying to reconcile what he’d just seen, Max jumped into action as Mia hit the water hard. Diving in fully clothed keeping his head up as he swam, his heart skipped a beat when she floated to the surface, drifting towards him quickly as the current carried her body face down. Shouting, “Mia,” as he launched himself at her body, Max turned her over and saw she was unconscious. Grabbing her under the arms Max swam back towards the bank, struggling against the current. When he reached the river’s edge, he stood, picked her water-laden body up, and moved her to the solid ground, placing her gently on the dirt.
“Mia?” Max shouted as he gently slapped her face, trying to rouse her, but she didn’t respond. He turned her on her side in the recovery position and then pounded her back five times to clear any water from her throat and lungs. Turning her on her back, he tilted her chin and then looked to see if her chest was moving. Pinching her nose, he opened her mouth and blew deep to inflate her lungs, twice. Then he moved to her chest and started compressions.
“Come on, Mia. Prove me wrong. Prove you aren’t a pain in the ass like I thought you would be.”
Moving back to her mouth, a mouth, he’d wanted to taste since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he blew twice more. When her mouth moved against his, he pulled back and waited as she struggled to wake up. When she inhaled suddenly, and started coughing, Max jumped up, ran to his truck, pulled a blanket from his storage, and then ran back wrapping it around her as she expelled water onto the ground. He pulled her into his arms when she was done, and started rubbing her arms to warm her.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Max told her as she struggled to breathe, still coughing and wheezing her eyes pinched shut as she gasped for air.
“Max?” Mia whispered between coughs.
“Right here, Mia.”
“What’s going on?”
“You ran off the ridge and fell in the river. What the fuck were you thinkin’ runnin’ blind like that?”
“What?”
“Swear to God you are the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.”
Jerking, she turned in his arms confused at first. Then slowly, her eyes focused and what she said next froze him in place.
“Oh, my God, Donald’s dead.”
“Say that again?”
“I found him on the path. There was blood, and his head, oh, God, his head,” she cried out throwing her hands over her face. Wondering what the fuck she was talking about he watched as she pulled her hands back suddenly, her face growing paler, her eyes wider with recognizable freight as she mumbled, “Someone was there, they chased me, that’s why I—Lucy, Frank, we have to get to them. We have to make sure they’re okay,” she shouted as she struggled to get up.
“You’re sure he’s dead?” Max asked, trying to ascertain if she was lucid or imagining things.
“Yes, we have to go. We have to check on Lucy and Frank, now.”
The panic in her eyes told him she believed what she saw and his heart rate picked up at the thought of someone chasing her off the mountain.
Nodding, he stood while holding her in his arms and carried her to his truck. When he’d placed her inside, he ran to his office and found another blanket and a pair of old sweats he kept in his locker. When he got back to his truck, he handed them to her and ordered, “Strip out of those wet clothes.” Not in the mind to be argued with, when she looked at her clothes and then looked at his sweats he snapped, “You either get out of those wet clothes or I’ll strip you myself and use my body to warm you up.”
Wide-eyed at what he’d said, she complied with his order and then pulled her koalified T-shirt over her head as he started his truck. It may be the end of September, but in Alaska, that meant a balmy forty degrees most days and the water temperature stayed near freezing. So he cranked up the heat and waited for her to change. He kept his eyes on Mia as she struggled out of her jeans and when she forgot to take off her shoes, he reached down, grabbed her feet, and pulled them off.
“Thanks,” she replied, but kept her eyes diverted. If she hadn’t just told him Zimmer was dead, he’d have enjoyed watching her fidget while she stripped.
Once she’d changed, he wrapped another blanket around her, put the truck in drive, and then made his way back down the logging road towards the bridge that would take them back across the river.
The impact of what had just happened hit him like a freight train—someone in his town just committed murder.
The faces of all the people he cared about ran in a loop through his mind. He wondered which one of them would be desperate enough to commit murder to save Trails End?
“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Mia mumbled as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “Who would do that?”
“Someone who hated him enough, I suppose.”
“But why?”
“I’d say they killed to protect the town,” Max replied, the images of friends still swirling in his mind.
“Who hated him enough?”
Everyone!
“None of them, all of them,” he answered truthfully.
“But they couldn’t know if he would succeed. We could have fought him, beat him, why kill him?”
“The only person who can answer that is the killer,” Max told her.
Mia nodded because it was that simple. The only person who could answer that was the killer.
While Max drove us back to Grizzly Pointe’s entrance, he pulled the handset from his CB radio and called the police. They instructed us to wait at the foot of the trail for the Chief of Police to arrive so we stayed in the truck to keep warm. Resting my head against the window, trying not to think about Donald’s bloody face, I lost that battle when I remembered the sound of someone chasing me through the forest. One minute I was shaking, tears clouding my vision, and the next I was in Max’s arms as he held on tight, my face buried in his wet chest.
“You’re still wet,” I told him as I hung on to his shirt.
“I’ll dry.”
“But you’ll get sick,” I explained.
“No, I won’t.”
Annoyed, because men always thought they were invincible, I pushed off his firm chest, looked up at him, and announced, "You may look like Thor, God of Thunder, but you're mortal. You can still catch hypothermia or—”
“I look like Thor?” Max chuckled.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, let’s get back to the part where I look like Thor.”
“Max, this is serious you need to get out of those clothes.”
“Mia, I am serious, why Thor?”
I rolled my eyes because it’s also just like a man to change the subject. So, I crossed my arms and raised my brows. How could he not see the resemblance? He’s huge like Thor, wields an axe like that thunder hammer thingy, and his hair is longish as well. Basically, he’s Thor in flannel.
“You really don’t know why?”
“No, enlighten me.”
“Fine, it’s stupid anyway. I’m sure it’s not lost on you that you’re big.” One of his brows shot up in question and I realized what I’d said. Mortified, I rushed on with “I mean, I mean, you’re brawny . . . and you swing an axe like he swings his hammer thingy.”
Max grinned at my explanation because, let’s face it, I’d just told him he was “big” for pity’s sake and something told me that wasn’t a lie.
“Good to know I swing my axe like a God.”
He so wasn’t talking about his axe . . .
“Whatever, you’re missing my point. What I’m trying to say is—”
“That you don’t want me to get sick,” he interrupted.
“Right . . . and you will if you don’t get out of those clothes.”
“What do you suggest I put on?”
“Well, leave me here and you can drive home. I’ll wait for the police while you change.”
“Nope, not gonna happen.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not leavin’ you here alone with a killer runnin’ loose.”
“Oh, right. Can you call your mother?”
“Are you always like a dog with a bone?”
“Are you calling me a dog?”
“I’m callin’ you tenacious. I’m fine, I’ll dry, I’m not leavin’ you here, and I’m not callin’ my mother.”
“Fine, be wet,” I groused.
“Christ,” Max chuckled.
“What?”
“I knew when I laid eyes on you you’d be a pain in my ass,” Max sighed.
Then, without warning, he yanked me closer if that was possible and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
“What are you doing,” I whispered, completely ignoring the fact he’d just insulted me.
“Tryin’ to decide if you’re worth the headache you’re undoubtedly gonna cause me.”
Oh, God, I’m not ready to be kissed by this man. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.
I panicked at the thought of his mouth on mine and spit out “Nope, not worth the headache. Ask any man who knows me . . . I’m like a disease.”
Okay, that wasn’t what I meant to say, but it had the desired effect—he let go of me.
Then, embarrassingly enough, he threw his head back and laughed thus proving once and for all I’m lousy with men. In fact, I should give up on love all together and adopt twelve cats I’m so lousy with men.
Feeling like a fool, I needed out of the truck to clear my head. Or, even better, find the killer and have him put me out of my misery. But, more than anything, I wanted to check on my friends and make sure they were still alive, so I blurted out "Please, can we check on Lucy and Frank?"
Max knew she’d be a pain in his ass. Knew it the moment he laid eyes on her. He especially knew it when she sang in that voice of hers, keeping him glued to his stool. He further knew it when she stripped in front of him showing him all the gifts God gave her. And he sure as hell knew it when she fell off that fuckin' ridge, the sight of her lifeless body causing his heart to skip a beat. Now, as they climbed up the path, watching her fight his baggy sweat pants he was convinced more than ever. They should have stayed in the truck and waited, but they hadn’t. She blurted out she wanted to check on her friends when he was about to kiss her and his subsequent, “No,” had been met with a trembling lip. Her eyes, bright with tears, had disarmed him as nothing had before. Unable to resist, he’d clenched his jaw and swore, “Fuck,” as he disobeyed the police.
Unnerved by her tears, he ripped open his door, extended his hand, and then grabbed his rifle for protection. Then they headed towards the foot of the path all while he wondered how the hell this tiny slip of a woman had gotten under his skin so quickly.
Now, against his better judgment, they were climbing towards base camp to check on her friends. He’d had the presence of mind to keep them just off the path. His experience with crime scene investigation was limited to conversations he’d had with his cousin Jack. Regardless of that, disturbing the area a killer might have walked seemed important to avoid.
As they made their way, Max had to keep from laughing as Mia battled his sweats. At one point she’d lost her footing and when she threw her hands out to stop her descent, she let go of the pants and they’d dropped baring her silky legs. Unfortunately, for him, his hoodie was huge and covered her tight, round ass from his view.
“Don’t laugh,” she chided when he chuckled at the sight. He just grinned his crooked grin as he tilted his head and tried to see under the hoodie. “And don’t look.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied as she pulled the pants back up.
Right before his sweats covered her ass he caught a glimpse of her cotton panties covered with the face of a bear that he’d missed in the truck.
“Do you have a bear on your ass?”
“What?”
“Does everything you own have a bear on it?”
“I told you not to look!”
“And you believed I wouldn’t?”
“Of course.”
“Let me rephrase that. And you believed I wouldn’t, why?”
“Cause you’re a gentleman?”
Shaking his head Max grinned, then told her “I’m a lot of things, Mia, axe-man and God of Thunder being just a few, but gentleman? If you keep flashing that ass, beautiful, I’m gonna look.”
Mia looked stunned when Max finished, her breathing coming a little quicker. Then she recovered slightly and asked in a breathy tone “What would your mother say?”
Max didn’t hesitate; he knew exactly what she’d say. “Probably that he’s just like his father.”
Rolling her eyes, Mia turned and kept pushing forward as Max kept his eyes sharp, scanning for danger. The sun was low and soon he’d have to pull out his flashlight to see.
Five minutes of slow climbing later, Max caught sight of a large shadow up ahead on the trail. Recognizing the threat, he grabbed Mia’s shoulder and stopped her, then whispered in her ear “Don’t move.”
When she looked up at him with curious eyes, he told her “Keep your eyes down and don’t look.”
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
He shook his head, raised a finger to his mouth to quiet her then he mumbled, “Cover your ears,” as he raised his rifle in the air and shot off two rounds.
With a roar, the grizzly who had stumbled upon Zimmer’s body took off deeper into the forest as Mia flinched from the rifle blast.
“Stay here,” he ordered, but she shook her head no.
“Why’d you fire your rifle?”
“Bear.”
“You shot at one of my bears?” she gritted out.
“I stopped one of your bears from making a meal out of Zimmer, now stay here,” he ordered again.
“Oh, God,” Mia whispered, then sat abruptly and covered her face with her hands. Max figured that was just about right. However, it wasn’t lost on him that the man was probably killed for wanting to protect these bears and now one had made a meal out of him.
Max moved wide around the body, keeping off the path. He noted a hand axe lying on the ground not far from Zimmer’s body. Thankfully, the bear hadn’t done much damage and he could still see where the axe had nailed him right between the eyes.
Christ, this was a cluster-fuck, Max thought as he made his way back to Mia. This murder would bring in the media no doubt and put them directly in the sights of other activists when word got out.
As he reached Mia, he heard a shout from down below and saw the black cowboy hat of Chief of Police Duke Stetson heading up the trail. Duke, a tall man with light brown hair and blue eyes was in his late thirties and an asshole. He’d come to Trails End by way of Fairbanks and was still settling into life on the edge of civilization.
“Stetson,” Max hollered as Mia stood.
“Thought I told you to wait at the bottom?” Duke snapped as he arrived.
“Got a killer on the mountain and two people up here with no clue, you want me to sit on my ass and do nothing?”
Stetson glared, but said nothing in return. Then he turned to Mia.
“Ma’am,” he replied, taking a good long look at her, too long in his opinion. “How far up is your base camp?”
“Just over the hill, maybe another five minutes from here,” Mia told him.
“Hunter, take her and round up her friends. I’ll be up to question everyone when I’m done here. I’ve got my boys on their way up to search the area so keep them there till I come up. I don’t need you or anyone else fuckin’ up my crime scene by walkin’ through evidence and tracking blood throughout the forest.”
His jaw twitched at the insult, but Max nodded once, then took Mia by the hand. He moved her around the crime scene, then climbed the final leg of the path to her camp. When they emerged from the trees, Lucy and Frank looked up, took one look at his soggy clothes, Mia’s baggy sweats, and Lucy shouted, “Did you take a detour on the Mad Max train?”
“I still can’t believe Donald’s dead,” I told Lucy and Frank as we headed back into town.
“I can’t believe they ordered us off the mountain and that you’re a suspect,” Lucy replied as Frank drove.
“I don’t know Lucy, maybe the whole “She said if she saw Zimmer she’d use an axe on his balls” statement you gave the Chief might have been the cause of his suspicion?’’
“Yeah, sorry about that, but he caught me off guard when he asked about Zimmer manhandling you earlier, it just slipped out,” Lucy answered.
“God, this is so screwed up. Donald’s dead, we can’t go up the mountain until the crime scene is clear, and with all those men traipsing around the forest, the bears are likely to move out early. If that happens, we won’t get part of our research. I knew when I got on that plane yesterday that this trip would be a disaster. Why didn’t you stop me from getting on that plane?” I snapped.
“Time for shots,” Frank laughed.
“For some reason I don’t think prime suspects should be out getting drunk,” I sighed as I rubbed my forehead.
“Personally, I think being named the prime suspect in a murder investigation is the best reason to get drunk,” Lucy explained.
“Word,” Frank agreed.
By the time we arrived back in town, it was well past nightfall. Chief Stetson had allowed us to pack our clothes, but not until he’d searched them thoroughly. And to cap the “worst day ever” off, when we pulled up to the only motel the “no vacancy” sign was flashing. All three of us moaned when we saw it and after a moment’s deliberation on where to go and what to do, Frank started the Jeep and headed straight for the bar.
When we walked into Last Call, every head turned towards the door. After a moment of staring, the place erupted into applause and every patron stood.
“Why are they applauding?” I asked.
When Curly Potter, the pilot who’d flown us in approached and put out his hand, I had a bad feeling. I knew I was right when he hooted, “Nice aim with that axe missy, if you need a good lawyer, I got a cousin up in Fairbanks that will represent ya free of charge.”
“I didn’t kill him,” I gasped, but he just winked and handed me a shot of something brown.
After that bit of news, I needed a drink more than ever, so I threw back the shot while the bar settled back down.
Two women, who seemed vaguely familiar with big boobs and over-processed blonde hair approached and I noted one had a black eye. They looked like Barbie’s with their tight clothes and bulging assets, but their IQs weren’t near as high.
“Did you really bash in his head, then jump off the ridge to escape prosecution?” Blonde number one asked. Blonde number two jumped in stating, “She wasn’t trying to escape, she was meetin’ up with her lover after she took out the hippie.”
“Wait, who’s her lover?” Blonde number one asked.
“Keep up Suzy, it was Max.”
“Does Annie know that?” She chuckled, looking over her shoulder.
“We’re in an episode of the Twilight Zone,” Lucy mumbled grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the bar.
When we sat down, I put my face in my hands, but the sound of a glass landing hard on the bar caught my attention. When I looked up, I saw the bartender from the night before pouring a drink.
“Drinks are on the house,” he told me then nodded once before walking away.
Horrified all these people thought I killed someone. Not to mention they all seemed thrilled Donald was dead. I stood up, climbed on my stool, then put my fingers to my mouth and whistled until everyone looked at me.
“Okay, everyone listen up. As much as I appreciate your thoughtfulness congratulating me on my recent murder, I, unfortunately, have to inform you that I am not nor have I ever been a killer. And barring any unforeseen crisis, I don’t anticipate being a killer in the foreseeable future. Now, if you all wouldn’t mind—”
“Um, Mia,” Frank interrupted as he tugged on my shirt.
“One second Frank.”
“Down, now,” a rumbling voice growled from below.
I looked down into angry green eyes and asked “What?”
“Ass in the chair before you make matters worse,” Max bit off.
“How am I making matters worse by professing my innocence?”
“There’s a reporter flyin’ in that’s how, you want your speech in every newspaper in the country?”
“Shit,” I mumbled, then jumped down, landing in front of Max. “Why does everyone think I killed Donald?”
“Chuck at the gas station heard you tell Zimmer you’d take an axe to his head if he touched you again.”
Of course, he did. Shit, shit, my luck was for shit this trip.
“Shit, I did say that,” I groaned. Then, my stress level being what it was, I snapped, “You know this is all your fault.”
“How do you figure that?” Max asked, crossing his arms.
“You and your mother put the whole axe idea in my head in the first damn place with all her “focus on someone you hate” business.”
Max stepped in closer, eyes shooting daggers, then he bit out “Clearly you didn’t focus hard enough when you let it fly.”
“Ha, funny guy, apparently I should have pictured you when I did,” I snapped back getting up on my toes.
“Foreplay, I dig it,” Lucy chuckled.
My eyes shot to Lucy’s, then I took in how close we were and stepped back, breathing deep to settle my nerves. Max stared back at me, glaring. Then he scanned my T-shirt slowly and grinned.
Looking down, I realized I’d thrown on another Care Bears tee. This one had Tenderheart Bear with the caption “Hug Me!” Well, shit . . .
“You have an unusual wardrobe,” Max chuckled.
“Was there something you needed?” I inquired ignoring his comment. I loved my tees, no way was I gonna let Max dis them.
Still grinning Max replied, “Actually, there is. I hear you don’t have a place to stay.”
“How the hell did you know that? We only just left the motel.”
“Martha Tallchief is the postmaster and she saw you pull into the motel and then come here. She told Debbie, who owns Smith’s Mercantile; she was in the post office after you left. Debbie immediately called Susie, who is my mother’s neighbor, and then she called my mother. Then Mom called me and told me to get my ass to the bar, get your asses to her house, where you and your friends can sleep till this shit gets sorted.”
“Jesus, it’s like a calling tree,” Frank muttered.
“Worse,” Max replied, “nothin’ in this town stays a secret with those four.”
“Does she think I killed Donald?”
“Nope, but even if she did, she’d still invite you.”
“Why, because she sleeps with a gun?”
“No need, she used my dad for target practice so she’s proficient with an axe as you well know. But even so, she’s just plain crazy.”
“You don’t think she could have—”
“No way she killed him,” Max chuckled.
“How can you be sure?”
“His balls were left intact.”