Chapter Six

Having been dispatched by Anyga – by way of Asher's request – I find myself standing in the office of Connor Floyd -- Black Salmon Falls' Medical Examiner. It's been a few days since my barstool confession at the Silver Salmon and part of me thinks that I'm standing here because Luca is working some strings behind the scenes, trying to get me to see that I'm an integral part of the Clan structure in the Pacific Northwest.

And I have the feeling that Luca thinks that by assigning me new duties, he's hoping to strengthen my ties to our little world. Give me more of a sense of purpose, direction, and duty – and make me feel less lost and adrift.

I have to admit, it's clever. And maybe not even the wrong play in this situation. If nothing else, having something to do other than execute my own kind will provide me with a decent distraction.

“Jackson,” Floyd said when he barged into the room. “Good to see you. It's been a while.”

I shook his hand and smiled. “That it has. You're lookin' good these days.”

Floyd looks down at his ample midsection and grins. “Lost ten pounds so far.”

“New girlfriend, huh?”

He looks at me, an expression of amazement on his face. “How did you know that?”

I tapped my nose. “I can smell her perfume on you,” I say. “Faint, but there.”

He nods, still looking amazed – like I have some superpower or something. “I forget how powerful your sense of smell is sometimes.”

Floyd is a good man and I like him a lot. He's short, a little soft in the middle, wears thick glasses, and has a head of dark hair that's usually wild and unkempt. He's smart with a quick wit, and surprisingly, even though he works around death all day, every day, he's got a great sense of humor.

And even though he technically works under the auspices of the Sheriff's office, he doesn't share the same bigotries and prejudices as Dean Richards. Floyd likes the shifter community. Respects us. And always goes out of his way to help us – even if that means going behind the Sheriff's back to do it. Personally, I think he gets a thrill out of it. He doesn't like Richards anymore than we do.

“So, who's the lucky woman?” I ask.

“Her name is Ariel,” he says, pride seeming to flow from every pore in his body. “She works in the records office at City Hall in the next town over. Met her in an online Scrabble game. We started playing more regularly, got to talking, and finally decided to meet. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Good for you, Floyd,” I say. “You seem happy. That makes me happy for you.”

“Thank you, Jackson. That means a lot,” he says. “What about you? You and Josie ever –”

I laugh, cutting him off. “Does everybody in this whole damn town know that Josie has a thing for me or something?”

“Well – yeah,” he says. “Pretty much. Not really much of a secret. Every time she looks at you, we all see the cartoon hearts floating above her head.”

I shake my head, grinning. “She's a good girl,” I say. “And some man is going to be very lucky to have her.”

“But – not you?”

I shake my head again. “No, not me,” I say and quickly change the subject. “So, I understand you have something to show me.”

He nods and purses his lips, his expression thoughtful – as if he's debating whether or not to press the issue. He gives me a meaningful look and then nods, apparently opting to not press it. Which is probably best for both of us.

“A couple of bodies were found last night,” he says. “Thought they might be of interest to you.”

“Why's that?”

“They're bears,” he says simply.

“Huh,” I reply. “Sheriff know about this?”

Floyd shakes his head. “Not yet,” he replies. “Couple of guys I know found the bodies. They called me right away. Given the hard-on the Sheriff has for you guys, I thought it best to keep him out of the loop if at all possible.”

“I appreciate that, Floyd,” I say. “And I know Asher will.”

He shrugs. “Saves me a shitload of paperwork,” he says. “Plus, I know that Richards will probably just try to pin this on you guys anyway. He'll move heaven and Earth trying to prove it was you guys rather than doing his job and finding out who really did it. So, it just saves us both a lot of hassle in the long run.”

I clap him on the shoulder and laugh. “You're a good man, Dr. Floyd.”

He shrugs. “You guys are always good to me, so no worries.”

Floyd walks over to the bank of drawers set into the wall. He opens one and then a second right next to it. When I look down at the contents of the drawers, I'm not sure what to make of them at first – it looks like two mounds of barely recognizable pulverized meat.

The smell was horrendous. Almost overpowering. I quickly put my hand up over my nose and mouth, trying to keep from inhaling it.

“Yeah, they're pretty ripe,” Floyd says. “Impossible to say with one hundred percent accuracy, of course, but my best guess is that they were out there a couple of days before they were found.”

Still holding my hand over my mouth, I leaned over, examining the corpses. Most of the skin seems like it's been – peeled off. And the meat below it has long, deep furrows dug into it. I also see bite marks and bones that are shattered – almost as if they'd been bitten clean through.

Standing up, I take a couple of steps back and Floyd pushes the drawers closed. The smell still lingers though, saturating the air around us. Feeling like it's seeping into my skin. I'm going to need a long, hot shower when I'm done here. Maybe two.

“I don't know if I'm ever going to get that stink out of these clothes,” I say. “How do you do this day after day?”

He shrugs like it's no big deal. “Eventually, you get used to it.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I'm not so sure about that,” I say. “So, why is it you think these two piles of meat are bears?”

“The muscle striation,” he says. “It's definitely not human. See, shifters have the same muscles as humans, but they're – different. Longer. Thicker. More striated. Have to be because when you shift, you're using those muscles in ways humans don't.”

I nod. “I see,” I say. “Any idea what did that to them?”

“Wood chipper was my first though, but I ruled that out pretty fast,” he said and laughed. “Too many bite marks.”

“Huh,” I say. “So, something is running around out there – eating – bears.”

“Looks like it,” he says. “Which is absolutely terrifying. I mean, I really don't even want to imagine what's out there that's big and powerful enough to take down a bear.”

As I stand there, a thought occurs to me. “Could this possibly be a wolf attack? Could those bite marks be wolves?”

“Werewolves? Anything is possible, I suppose,” he replies. “But honestly, I really doubt that. The bite radius is too small – it almost seems like a human mouth inflicted those wounds.”

“But that doesn't seem very likely.”

“Tell me about it,” he says. “And I don't think they'd shift back into their human form to feed.”

“No, probably not.”

“So, we've got a mystery on our hands.”

“Looks that way,” he says.

“Thanks for the heads up, Floyd,” I say. “I'll be sure to have somebody come around to clean this mess out of your freezers.”

“No rush,” he says. “Richards never comes in here anyway. Says it creeps him out.”

I laugh and shake my head. “That's our big, strong Sheriff.”

“Indeed,” he says. “Besides, I want to run a few tests on the bodies – if that's okay with you.”

“Hey, have a field day, Floyd,” I reply. “Just let me know when you want what's left scooped out.”

“You got it,” he says. “And thanks.”

I head out, knowing I'm going to have to brief the Clan Chiefs on what I learned. Yeah, this is going to be a load of fun.