The next morning, Dana woke to the smell of coffee and bacon wafting through the bedroom door. She stretched her arms above her head and groaned happily, feeling a sense of security deep in her bones. The smell of breakfast lured her out of bed. She threw on a flannel shirt from the closet and walked out into the hallway and around the corner to the kitchen. She found Jessie in a pair of boxer briefs and an apron that said, "kiss the chef," across the chest. He looked up at her and his eyes widened.

"You look good in that," he said, eyeing her.

His flannel shirt crested her upper thigh just a few inches below her panty line. She bit her lip and slid into a seat at the bar across from the kitchen counter. Jessie pulled a pan from the oven and scooped slices of bacon onto two plates. Next, he dished up the scrambled eggs he'd made that were covered in cheddar cheese. Two pieces of sourdough popped from the toaster and he slathered them with strawberry jelly. He slid the plate across the counter in front of her and handed her a fork.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asked, pulling the pot from the machine.

"Cream and sugar," she said, smiling.

He fixed her cup and set it in front of her before walking around the counter to sit beside her in front of his own breakfast. He gazed down at her crossed legs and then back up into her eyes. Their inner beasts spoke in a language all their own, and she could feel the tingle of his need mixing with her own at the base of her spine. She had to tell her inner fox to settle down. With such a thoughtful and delicious smelling breakfast in front of her, she didn't want it to go to waste.

She took a long sip of coffee and giggled, the reality of her life slowly creeping up in the back of her mind. She knew that this happy moment wouldn't last, as much as she wished it could go on like this forever.

She finished her breakfast, and it sank into her stomach like warm comfort. It was almost like she could feel Jessie's love for her nourishing her every cell. The more she thought about it, the more it made her want to cry. She finished her coffee and leaned over to kiss Jessie on the cheek.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said. "Later we can talk about how we’re going to solve all this mess."

"There's no mess," he said, encircling her waist with his arms. "There's just you and I."

"I know," she said, caressing his shoulder with her thumb as she held him.

She bit her lip and looked down at the letters on the apron across his chest. "Kiss the chef." She looked up at him and pressed her lips to his, sending all her love out to him through the new connection between their hearts and minds. She wanted him to know how much his kindness meant to her. It wasn't just that they were mates, it was that he had believed in her from the very first moment. He’d been on her side. She would do anything to keep what they had.

She pulled away and turned down the hallway, moving into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and rested her back against the wood. Dana let out a long sigh and covered her face with her hands. This was all too good to be true. She knew her luck was about to run out. Good things like this just didn’t happen to her. At least not for long.

She pulled off Jessie's flannel and turned on the shower. In a few seconds, the water was just right, and she climbed into the tub behind the curtain. Jessie had a simple house but he had a nice showerhead that rained down on her in drops of warm, luxurious water.

When she was done, she wrapped herself in a towel and crossed the hall to her bedroom. She chose a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She put on her tennis shoes over a pair of ankle socks with kittens on them that she'd had since high school, and made her way out of the bedroom. When she made it into the living room, her hair still wet and dripping down her back, she stopped in her tracks and gasped. Rollo Morris, chief of police, and commander of the Bear Patrol, was sitting on the couch in the living room. Rollo stood and approached her. A sense of cool dread ran down her spine.

"Dana Myers," Rollo said. "You are under arrest for the murder of Chuck Updike."

Rollo went on to read her her rights as he slapped metal handcuffs on her wrists behind her back. It all sounded like gibberish being spoken underwater. Jessie shot to his feet beside her, his face a mask of shock and dismay. Dana could hear her heart beating in her ears and everything seemed to be going in slow motion.

"What are you talking about?" Dana demanded, as Rollo held her elbow in his hand.

"Your fingerprints were found on the murder weapon hidden in your bedroom at the Updikes'. The DA believes this is enough evidence for an arrest."

"You don't really believe I did this, do you?"

"Unless we find evidence to the contrary, we have to bring you in."

"You can't do this. There must have been a mistake," Jessie cried.

Of course there had to be a mistake. But there could be no mistaking Dana's terrible luck. Somehow, someone, had gotten her fingerprints on the murder weapon and planted it in her bedroom. It must have been a set-up, that was the only explanation. But who would do this to her? Any number of the hyenas living at the mansion would have reason to want Chuck dead and to frame her for it.

Hyenas were known far and wide for their selfishness and cruelty. Only in the last few decades had they organized themselves into the mob they had become. The hyena packs had instituted a new code of honor which meant they never turned on each other. But if the hyenas hadn't killed him, then who had? The townspeople of Fate Mountain, and the multitudes far and wide, had many reasons to resent the Updikes. But she knew of no one who would want to frame her. Unless someone in her fox pack had a grudge against her for something she didn't know about.

All these thoughts flashed through her mind as Rollo took her out to his police car and put her in the back seat. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Just at the height of her joy, she had come to her lowest point.

She could hear Jessie yelling behind her, begging Rollo to let her go. When that didn't work, he started shouting obscenities and Rollo threatened to take him in as well. His brothers came out of the barns and shops and houses and held him back. She could see it all from the back window as tears seeped out of her eyes. Questions rolled through her mind, over and over. She couldn't imagine what had happened and how someone had gotten her fingerprints on the gun.

None of it made any sense. But it did when it came to her bad luck. Ever since her parents had died, it had been the same story. She couldn't get a break then, and she couldn't get one now either. She sat in the back of the police car as Rollo climbed in the driver's seat. He pulled out of the parking lot of Timber Bear Ranch and headed down the road. She resolved herself to her fate. Maybe she would end up going to jail. Maybe she would never get to be with Jessie at all. She had to come to terms with it now or it would drive her crazy if things got worse.

"This is so typical," Dana muttered.

"Typical?" Commander Morris said.

"Typical of my luck. Somehow someone got my fingerprints and put them on the gun. And I somehow managed to take the car with Chuck's dead body in the trunk. Now it looks obvious that I was the murderer. It's just typical."

"I see," Rollo said. "You haven't had very good luck in your past have you?"

"No, and of course my past means that I have a motive, right? Like I said: typical."

"You haven't been sentenced yet," Rollo said.

"Yes I have. As soon as my parents died it all changed for me. This has been coming since the day they sent me to live with my uncle and his second wife."

"You think this is fate?" Rollo asked.

"Of course it is! My fate is for my life to suck!"

"Geez."

He went silent in the front seat and Dana looked out the side window. She hoped he felt guilty for ruining her life. He should. She'd been through enough and this just took the cake. She listened to the sound of the police radio as the tires crunched over gravel. They turned onto the highway and drove into Fate Mountain Village.

At the police station, a second officer came out and took her into the police station. She was quickly booked and photographed. It was the most humiliating experience of her life. Well, maybe the second. She had lived with the Updikes for two years while wearing a French maid uniform almost exclusively. Jail couldn't be worse than that. Could it?

They took her to a small cell in the police station and left her there. She lay down on the uncomfortable cot and waited for the inevitable.