Bears Behaving Badly Read online

  Please God he doesn’t land on the kid.

  The disgruntled stepfather, meanwhile, had gotten to his feet and stood, swaying, as he considered his options while blood dripped down his jaw. He took a last look at the scene and turned away.

  “Wait! Jason, don’t leave me!”

  “Yes, Jason.” Annette kicked the back of his knee

  (a fine day to wear sturdy pointed flats)

  tearing his tendon and sending him to the ground. “Don’t leave her. Look at what she was willing to do for you.”

  Nadia let out a high-pitched cry, and though Annette didn’t speak red kite, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what was coming.

  She sidestepped the yelping stepfather and approached Lorraine, who backed away until she tripped over a rock and sat down hard enough to bite her lip. Annette’s nostrils involuntarily flared at the scent of new blood. “I…I won’t say anything, I swear. About you or your big weird bird.” Lorraine flinched as Nadia screeched a reprimand. “I’ll just… We’re sorry. I’m sorry. Your—your eyes are… Your eyes are all wrong. What’s wrong with… I’m sorry.”

  “No. That’s not what I’m looking for. I don’t care about your apology.” Annette knelt beside her. “The paramedics and the police will be in this clearing in the next sixty seconds or so. I want you to tell them everything. Everything. Whose idea, who pushed or abandoned her, or pushed and abandoned her, and whatever follow-up bullshit course you were embarking on, and I want you to finish your story with how you decided to surrender to the authorities to alleviate your crippling guilt.”

  She was nodding so hard her ponytail flopped. “I will! I’ll tell them, I promise, you don’t have to worry, okay? Okay?”

  “I’m not worried. We’ve got your scent now. We can always find you. So please trust me when I say living in a cage for a couple of years is preferable to meeting us in the open.”

  “Okay. I’ll… Okay. I’ll do it. Don’t touch me, okay? Please don’t touch me. I’ll do it. I swear on my life.”

  “You are, actually.” A bit of an exaggeration, but she wasn’t going to clue Lorraine in to that. Annette wasn’t in the habit of running around murdering abusive Stables. No one at IPA was. Though they’d certainly been tempted. “Run along, Lorraine. But not too far. Just up to the edge. Just to see what you’ve done.” And as Lorraine just sat there, paralyzed, Annette leaned in. “Now.”

  She stepped aside while Lorraine scooted past her to peer into what was supposed to be her daughter’s grave, as well as her brother’s rest stop. Now she could see as well as hear the first responders pushing their way through the trees; in a few more seconds, they’d hit the clearing. Fortunately, Annette had been holding Nadia’s clothes throughout the confrontation, so she headed down the opposite path while Nadia swooped in close

  “Dammit! You’ve got to ruin both sides of my sweater?”

  and perched for a ride, content to wait for the best opportunity to shift back.

  “I don’t know about you, but I need a vacation,” Annette muttered. “That wasn’t even the worst lunch break we’ve had this month. Which is insane. And now we have to keep an eye out for police reports and local news coverage. More obsessively than usual, I mean, in case there’s a damage control issue. But first, we should fortify ourselves with ice cream. Don’t glare at me, you love Milkjam as much as I do.”

  * * *

  Rabid Bald Eagle Attacks Drunken Campers, Star Tribune

  Toddler Found in Ravine Expected to Recover; Claims Magical Eagle Fairy Saved Her, Star Tribune

  Man Indicted for Attempted Murder Claims ‘Shaggy-Haired Crazy Bird Lady’ Attacked Him with Eagle, Pioneer Press

  Chapter 23

  “The headlines were the worst part. For us, I mean,” Annette added. “Wrong subspecies, obviously. And do eagles even get rabies? Isn’t it confined to mammals? And ‘shaggy’? I’d gotten a haircut two weeks earlier!”

  “‘We’ve got your scent now’?”

  “What was I supposed to say? ‘If we’re ever in the same restaurant, I might be able to pick up your scent but maybe not’ didn’t sound nearly so scary.”

  David snorted. “Good point. Did you tell anyone? Or get in trouble?”

  “Yes. And no. We didn’t go after Shifters, so Bob didn’t care. Which is horrible, by the way,” she added. “We should have at least been reprimanded. Or sent to our rooms without supper. Something. My point, David, is that Nadia would never be complicit in Shifter trafficking of any kind, if for no other reason than she wouldn’t be able to feel superior to Stables if she was helping Shifters be just as bad.”

  “Okay, you make a good point about your occasionally violent partner,” David admitted.

  “Uh, yeah. Occasionally. That’s it. She definitely doesn’t make a habit of going for the eyes.”

  “But you have to admit, Nadia can be a little, uh, volatile. Even for a—”

  Annette’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t generalize.”

  “—person who is prone to being volatile.”

  “Good save.”

  “But is it any weirder than Gomph being the culprit?” David said. “Nobody knows anything about Nadia. Not where she was born or where she went to school or if she has family—”

  “Nobody knows those things about you, either.”

  “Stillwater, the U of M, only child, parents are dead.”

  “Me, too! Except for the Stillwater part. And the U of M. You’re looking at a proud alumnus of St. Olaf. Wait, why am I giving you my résumé?”

  David ignored her posturing, which was a relief. “Plus, nobody knows why she can’t go back to the UK except the higher-ups. Which tells me that whatever she did, they didn’t think it made her unemployable.”

  “Which would have been reassuring,” Annette realized, “before this week.”

  “Right.”

  “So. Let’s ask her. But we should wait until she gets the yelling out of her system.”

  David flinched. “You—you don’t think she got it all out earlier today?”

  * * *

  “And to further compound your raging idiocy, you strutting morons, you came to the hospital! Where you know people are looking for you!”

  “You asked us to come!”

  “Exactly my point!” Nadia shrilled. “And you’re late! You were to have been here thirty-five minutes ago. No, don’t tell me, I can smell the bacon-and-swiss burger with mushrooms and the onion rings from here.”

  “It was bacon and cheddar. And we’re not in the hospital!” Annette realized she was shouting and lowered her voice. “We’re in the parking garage across from the hospital,” she murmured. And like all parking garages, it was chilly, gloomy, and smelled like concrete, gasoline, and the scraps of discarded snacks. Parking garages always made her feel like she was in a concrete cocoon and made her crave gas and chips.

  “Idiots!” (Nadia was still mad.)

  “You’re mad because you missed the fight, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Sullenly, followed by “Maybe. Why didn’t you call me?” She was pacing back and forth in a small circle in front of them, so frazzled she’d skipped makeup and had simply pulled her dark hair into a neat ponytail, though her deep-green suit was immaculate. “Why would you take them on by yourself, Annette?”

  David pointedly cleared his throat.

  “There wasn’t time to take them on by myself. And I was with David.” Also, there’s a teeny tiny chance you might be one of the bad guys. She could barely think it, much less give it voice. No. Impossible.

  “Such nonsense. As it happens, I have the perfect punishment for you.”

  Annette was immediately suspicious, because Nadia did not throw around words like punishment. Before she could ask the woman to elaborate, she heard the fire door open and, behind her, an all-too-familiar voice: “Hiya, gang!”


  “Hey, you’re fully dressed,” David said. “Congratulations.”

  “Do I have to tell you to take care with Pat’s clothes?” Annette asked as Oz loped over to them. “Because you need to take care. You really, really, really, really need to take care. Wait, what am I doing? I should let you find out the hard way.”

  “Blast,” Nadia muttered. “You were supposed to be somewhat horrified. Or at least put out.”

  “I’m put out,” Annette assured her. “I swear!”

  “Naw, it’s all an act, isn’t it?” Oz reached out to pinch Annette’s cheek, and she entertained the brief notion of a good chomp to the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. “Whoa. Your eyes are getting a little red again. Have you thought about contacts? You should get contacts. You’re gonna scare someone.”

  “And you should get a proper change of clothes.” Oz was hilariously resplendent in one of Pat’s powder-blue button-downs, khaki shorts that showed off his goose-bumped legs, and brown loafers, no socks. Apparently, Pat kept his late-nineties preppie wardrobe in the studio, along with half-a-dozen aprons. “This is very…dated.”

  “Yeah, well.” Oz shrugged, which was kind of neat, come to think of it. Here was a man who took almost as much care with his appearance as Pat did. He had clearly put Caro’s investigation over the demands of fashion. “You know what they say about beggars and choosers.”

  “I’ve got no idea, actually.”

  “What is it with you guys?” David asked, and if it was anyone else, she’d think they sounded a little jealous. “Did you used to go out or something?”

  By way of answer, Annette threw up in her mouth a little.

  “Jesus Christ, no,” Oz replied, having the gall to sound disgusted.

  “Hey!” she snapped. “You could do worse.”

  “I don’t see how. David, if I’d actually gone out with her, I wouldn’t be able to spread rumors about you guys going out. Y’know, in good conscience.”

  Annette wanted to shriek. “What?”

  “That was you?” David asked. “Wait. We’re getting off track.”

  “Give me your hand, Oz,” Annette growled. “I’m biting off all your fingers. I’ll leave you a thumb so you can hitchhike to the hospital.”

  “It wasn’t just him,” Nadia replied. “And don’t puff up and look outraged—”

  “Too late.”

  “—because our intentions have been sublime, sublime. We’re helping.”

  David blinked. “Spreading confusing gossip and making things awkward between the couple you’re shipping against their will is…helping.”

  “David, don’t try to figure it out. If you stare into the abyss that is Nadia’s mind too long, the abyss stares into you.” To Nadia: “You’re in cahoots with my mortal enemy. Vengeance will be mine.”

  “Which brings me back to my question.” From David. “What is it between you two?”

  “Ancient history,” Annette replied.

  “A bet,” Ox added.

  “Nothing we’re going into right now,” Annette added.

  “Which she lost,” Oz finished. “Ages ago. When we were cubs.”

  David was eyeing them like he was watching a tennis match, one where the winner committed manslaughter with a racket and a thousand balls. “You guys knew each other when you were little?”

  “We were foster sibs for a mere blink in time, and good God, why am I explaining any of this? Nadia, why are we here?”

  “Foster sibs who fought over the fridge,” Oz added, because he was annoying. “Mama Mac had about had it with all our shit so Annette and I made a bet: whoever ate the most in a day would get unlimited fridge access twenty-four seven, and snacks on demand if Mama Mac’s fridge was out of walking distance.”

  “That’s asinine,” Nadia observed.

  “The perfect word,” Annette agreed.

  “That’s why you keep bringing him food?” David asked. He sounded both surprised and a bit disappointed, as though he was glad to have the mystery solved but let down because the explanation was so dumb.

  “Right?” Nadia asked. To Annette: “You never bring me biscuits.”

  “Not biscuits,” she replied at once. Here was an old pet peeve. “Never biscuits. They’re called cookies. Biscuits are what you get at KFC. Well, you can get cookies there now, too.”

  Oz nodded, bouncing on his toes a little. “But I’ve given it some thought—”

  Oh, dear God. What? What was coming?

  “—and Annette, there’s more to life than bringing me the odd cupcake now and again.”

  “Which you haven’t been eating.” To David: “I told you that was a bad sign.”

  “I didn’t doubt you,” David replied. “I genuinely have no idea what the fuck we’re all talking about. It’s weird and now it’s starting to get a little boring.”

  “Who can eat eclairs when you’re in trouble?” Oz asked, probably rhetorically. “Or, at least, headed for trouble. But getting back to shipping the two of you—”

  Annette groaned. This isn’t happening. Waking up in 3…2…1…

  “—it occurred to me that there’s more to your life than busting Dev and trying to get Pat the hell out of your house.”

  Not happening, this is not happening, I’m not discussing my odd life while David Auberon is standing there soaking up every last word. Pat will hear me swearing in my sleep and will wake me up any second because this is not happening.

  “Or at least, there oughta be…”

  Any second.

  “…so Nadia and I started trying to figure out who to hook you up with, and the whole thing just sort of came to life on its own. Like Frankenstein!”

  Any second. “Frankenstein’s monster did not come to life on its own, Oz.”

  “We knew you’d be too stubborn to take our advice, and you’d never go on a setup—”

  “Not even a setup I set up,” Nadia added. “Which is insane, insane. I have exquisite taste and would find you the perfect mate.”

  “—so we looked around for some other sad soul who works too hard and has no life…”

  “I was wondering when I was going to come into this story.” David sighed. Annette had to hand it to the guy; he seemed remarkably nonhomicidal.

  “And here we are!” Oz (finally) finished. He brought his hand up like he was going to give her a friendly pat, but thought better of it at the last second, which was a pity. “It’s a conspiracy, sure, one with dark roots that has taken on a sinister life of its own—yeah, I’ll grant you that—but you were a solitary bear when we were kids, and you still are. And we thought David could help. All the lying and meddling was done out of love and maybe a little boredom, and I’m saying all this as your loving brother.”

  “You were my foster brother for about ten minutes, Oz.”

  “One hundred and twenty-two days,” he corrected.

  Helpless, Annette looked at David. “I am so sorry. About everything. But especially this.”

  He shrugged. “Not your fault. Nice to have an explanation, though. I was starting to wonder if there were secret meetings being held that you and I weren’t invited to.”

  “Only three,” Oz said.

  “No, you’re forgetting the morning we went to the Salty Tart,” Nadia added.

  “What?” And here she had assumed the story couldn’t get any more aggravating, because she was a foolish creature. “How dare you hatch plots against me in my favorite bakery without inviting me!”

  “Uh. Guys? It’s way past time to get back to the problem at hand. It was time to do that five minutes ago, but I got caught up in the narrative. Which happens a lot around here,” David muttered.

  When they just looked at him, David elaborated with “Lund’s killer or killers? Who have tried for us twice? Don’t get me wrong, the sordid details
of Operation Lonely Hump are fascinating, but time and place, right?”

  “It is a sad day when David Auberon is the voice of reason,” Nadia said, and she probably thought that was a compliment.

  “Thanks for that” was the dry reply. “So, again, what are we doing here?”

  Nadia tossed her head. “Well, David, if you must know, Judge Gomph was looking high and low for you two.”

  “Was?”

  “Now he’s simply lying in wait for Annette. He’s clever—he’s picked the one place he knows Annette must visit.”

  “He’s at Big Bowl? That’s all the way over in Edina. It’s worth the drive because the dumplings are incredible, and their homemade ginger ale is a treat, but—”

  “The pediatric wing, you dim darling.”

  “Oh. That is smart,” she admitted. “Because I’m definitely going there.”

  “No, you are not,” Nadia began.

  “Waste of time, Nadia,” Oz said. “Waste. Of. Time.”

  “Oz is right.” Ow. It physically hurt me to say that out loud. “I have to go to the peds wing. And you know that, too, or you wouldn’t have called and told me Gomph was here.”

  “I was warning you! I didn’t want you going in by yourself. David, stop clearing your throat,” Nadia snapped. “You’re not part of this.”

  “The hell I’m not! And it’s either pointed throat-clearing or I just start yelling over you, and none of us wants that. Annette isn’t going in by herself. I’m going with her.”

  “Again, you are not part of this, David.”

  “Again, the hell I’m not, Nadia, so get bent.”

  “She means because we’re IPA employees, and you’re an independent contractor.” Annette turned to Nadia. “Right? Because in every other way, he’s definitely part of this.”

  “Thanks, Annette.”

  “You’re welcome, David.”

  “Whoa.” From Oz.

  “Oh, my dear Lord,” Nadia breathed. “You let David get a leg over!”

  “I did not!” Yet.

  “Well, you did something.”

  Now Annette was doing the throat-clearing while David remained silent and gave off none-of-your-business vibes. “We’re getting off-topic,” she began.