After going to the sheriff’s department to report what had happened at the campsite, question the kid from the night before, and to submit the pictures, he drove back to meet up with Candice.

The investigation had officially moved from hunting accident to homicide with the new information. Wardens typically investigated hunting homicides in Montana, and the sheriff insisted this was no different.

Wyatt parked in front of the chain outdoor store and went inside. He’d suggested this store because he knew Candice liked camping and the outdoors. Plus, the big, box chain store was the main competition for Colin Chase’s mom-and-pop shop.

He found Candice struggling to pull on a pair of hiking boots. When he saw her, he rushed to her side, knelt down and helped her push the boot onto her foot. She blushed as she looked down at him. The thrill of holding her leg in his hand was almost too much, and he had to let her go.

“How’s that?” he asked with a thick voice.

“It’s good.”

She strutted down the aisle, testing the shoes as she went. He watched her curves sway as she walked. His mate was one heck of a sexy lady. Everything about her screamed sex. He could barely contain himself as he watched her pivot on her heel and walk back toward him. He was going to have to get it under control if he wanted to finish this investigation.

He stood, looking away from Candice to get himself under control. He wandered down the shoe aisle, absently looking at the men’s hiking boots. He picked up a few pairs and looked at their soles. When he checked the store brand, he narrowed his eyes. The sole was a perfect match for the shoeprint he’d found at Candice’s campsite.

Just then, the protesters from the street filed into the store, chanting their anti-shifter slogans. Wyatt turned, ready to do crowd control, when the owner of the store, Reginald Lawson, came out from behind a counter and welcomed them with open arms.

Wyatt watched as potbellied, balding Reginald led the protesters to the back of the store and into a private room. Wyatt followed and was stopped at the door by a gruff clerk with a full mustache and tattoos on his muscled forearms. He knew the clerk as a man named Joe Patterson, who liked to fish without a license down at the river.

“This is a private meeting,” Joe said.

“I don’t need a warrant to do a search.”

“There’s no reason to search a rally meeting for illegally hunted game, McCloud.”

“Watch your tone, or I will be conducting a search at your house, Patterson. I’m with my friend here, so I’ll let you all have your hate meeting in private. This time…”

Candice walked up to the counter with her things and plopped them down, looking confused.

“Find everything you need, ma’am?” Joe asked.

“I did. Is there a problem?” Candice asked innocently, looking back and forth at the men.

“Not at all. Joe here was just telling me how he was going to give you a twenty percent discount,” Wyatt said to the clerk. “Weren’t you?”

“Sure. Fine. We’re having a sale.”

Joe began scanning her purchases as he glared at Wyatt. The door to the meeting opened, and Wyatt was able to make out what they were talking about with his heightened senses. From what he could hear, it was standard shifter hate rhetoric.

Shifters shouldn’t be allowed to mingle with humans. They should be barred from marriage with humans. They shouldn’t be allowed to own businesses or hold jobs. They should be put in camps.

The whole thing left a disgusted pit in Wyatt’s stomach. When the shifters had decided to come out to the public, they hadn't anticipated this kind of backlash. They'd just wanted to come out of hiding. But Wyatt and shifters like him had expected a negative reaction from the humans.

Humans could be exceptionally bigoted toward their own kind, let alone toward what they thought were mythological creatures. Shifters were bigger, stronger, they had heightened senses humans couldn't even comprehend. Of course humans were suspicious and angry. But even Wyatt hadn't expected them to resort to murder.

“What was that all about?” Candice asked as they walked out of the store and climbed into the truck. 

“Shifter haters,” he grumbled.

“Isn't it crazy that there are shape shifters living among us?” she asked him, her voice tinged with fear. “Do you think those protesters had anything to do with the shooting?”

“Could be,” he said, a lump in this throat. Candice's reaction wasn't what he'd hoped. Could she hate shifters, too? He pushed the thought aside. He couldn't think about his mate hating him. After the investigation, he'd come clean and deal with the consequences. Until then, he couldn't reveal his feelings or his identity to the woman that made his bear more aroused and more contented than he'd ever been in his life.