A Reason to Kill (Reason #2) - C.P. Smith

Table of Contents A Reason To Kill Copyright Acknowledgements Dedication Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Epilogue Look for other titles by CP Smith

A Reason To Kill



CP Smith

Copyright No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the e-book. Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events, or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author ’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All rights reserved in accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. Copyright © 2014 by C.P. Smith First ebook edition: November 2014 Information address: [email protected] https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-CP-Smith/739842239363610

Acknowledgements With each book, the list grows. I’ve met some truly amazing people on this road to publishing and appreciate everyone who has reached out to say hello or lend a hand. As always, my family is my rock and gives me what I need to follow this dream, and my girls, my dream team, they keep me grounded and love me in spite of my insecurities. Over the course of the past year I’ve developed friendships with readers that I now call my friends and feel blessed to have met them. To Kelly Marshal-White, a woman who amazes me daily with her positive attitude in the face of adversity, thank you. You’ve been a constant source of inspiration and I couldn’t have finished this book without your daily affirmations. To Deb Hawblitzel Schultz who reached out to me in January and hasn’t stopped encouraging me to write since day one, you’re the best! This is why I do what I do. You ladies connected with my characters and made sure that a stay-at-home-mom knew that she should keep writing. Finally, to Kellyann Armstrong. Thank you for Wet Max, Naked Max, and laughter in the middle of the night. I’d cuddle you but you’d hit me, so the next best thing I can do is dedicate this book to you.

Dedication For Kellyann Armstrong . . . Squirrel!

Prologue Love, crystal and pure cannot be thwarted. Only stalled until its wings take flight and soar. “So, you’re finally gettin' married, Jack.” “Yep, Jenn’s the best fuckin’ thing that’s happened to me, Max. You know, if you’d stop fuckin’ around you could have this too.” “Right, I’ve got lumber yards waitin’ on fuckin’ trees and a town that depends on my filling those orders. I don’t have time for love, Jack.” “There aren’t many women out there can put up with men like us. You find one, whether you got time or not, don’t let her get away, Max. Trust me, I know.” “Spoken like a true Gunnison. You saw, you claimed, and you conquered.” “Fuck, no. I saw, I told her, and now I’m marryin’ her. The conquering was just the fun part.” “Right, take no prisoners and keep them smiling all the way to the altar,” Max chuckled. “Now you’re gettin’ it,” Jack laughed. “All right, Jack, give my love to Jenn and remember, if you don’t treat her right, I’ll come down from Alaska and steal her from you.” “You find the right woman, Max, you’ll know that’s impossible to do.” “What? Treat her wrong?” “No, Max, cause her a moment of pain.”

One I’ m g o ing where?

Bright blue velvety skies, dotted with billowing clouds of white, were outside my window, but I couldn’t look. I’m sure it was lovely, maybe even the bluest God had created, but I was too busy praying while holding on tightly to the seat rests of this incredibly small plane to look. This flying tin can was taking me and my team to northern Alaska to study Ursus Arctos, or in layman’s terms the grizzly bear. Trails End, Alaska, was our final destination, and I wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of spending a few weeks in the wilds of Alaska. As a Zoologist, I, of course, studied grizzlies, but not up close and personal. That was Donald’s job. He was head of my department and a man I’d unwisely had a brief relationship with a few months back. Unfortunately, for me, he had an important meeting he said he couldn’t miss, so I had to come in his place. We only had a few weeks before the bears started to migrate further north for the winter, and the Seattle Institute of Zoology or SIOZ whom I worked for and who monitored the bears needed their data. See, the problem with being sent in his place is I’m a pencil pusher. I’d never head a research team in my life. Normally I would take their data once they’ve collected it and then graph it, write grant proposals or scientific papers outlining their findings. What I hadn't done was sleep in a tent, gather bear scat to determine diet, or pee in the woods. I was an analyzer, a keynote speaker for the institute not an expert in field study for pity’s sake. I’ve never camped in my life, let alone searched the wilds of Alaska for bears. And there was one very important reason I didn’t. Some would call me clumsy, but I preferred to think of myself as vertically challenged. Not to mention I hated anything creepy-crawly. “You can do this, Mia. You will not be beaten by bear poop or uneven terrain,” I mumbled. Sadly, even I didn’t believe me. What I wouldn’t give to be back in my loft that overlooked Puget Sound with its magnificent views and kick-ass fireplace (The sole reason I’d bought the loft). That fireplace, covered in river rock with its huge timber mantel reminded me of a log cabin my family had rented one summer. I wanted that loft the minute I walked in and remembered those two blissful weeks on Baker Lake with my family— and the ultimate golden boy in the cabin next door. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Josh something or other had been a teenage girl’s dream (Even if I never got the nerve to speak to him.) I never saw him again, though I have often wondered if he’d ruined me for all other men. We all know how first lust has a way of clouding a young girl’s memories and making skinny man-boys into never-to-be-forgotten perfect males. It might also explain why at the age of thirty I still hadn’t married. However, I was married to my work, which explained why I was currently heading towards the mountains. Trails End, Alaska, pretty much said it all in my book. It was the end of the road, the end of civilization, and more than likely the end of my career if I screwed this up. I was a city girl and me in the field leading a team—big disaster in the making. Hell, this was going to be the biggest disaster in the history of disasters if I didn’t get a handle on my fears of bugs and inability to stay vertical. I knew I had limits on what I could handle, and camping in the woods, surrounded by bugs, pushed me way beyond those limits. I’m not proud of the fact that bugs give me pause they just do. It’s not as if I was a Prima Donna by any stretch of the imagination. I’m just girlie and pretty much hate anything

that isn’t cuddly, frilly or smells good. This self-awareness of my limitations is why I’d always been an analyzer and not a field researcher. I mean, why torture yourself when you can support the team with your sterling ability to write a powerful grant application or give well-received presentations to the board. Everyone knows it takes all the phases of research, from gathering data to writing grant proposals, to bring awareness to the dwindling grizzly population. Essentially for my part of the research team I’d become the one who kissed ass for money, while the others did the dirty work. My love for animals and most importantly bears, I’d inherited from my father. He’d grown up on a farm in Oregon surrounded by animals and made sure I had a variety growing up. We’d had chickens, goats, and a feisty ferret named Oscar, but never anything creepy like a snake. Even then, my father knew it had to be cute and somewhat cuddly. I’d asked for a pony once, like all little girls do, but my parents were well versed in my vertical challenges and had not only said no, but hell no! You see I’ve always been lousy at anything that required athletic ability. Even ballet had been a challenge. Unfortunately, all the kids knew this about me and never picked me for games that required walking. Therefore, I learned to play by myself. I’d been content playing with my dolls or reading a book about fairy princesses while the other kids climbed trees. However, for an outgoing child it was rather lonely. Then again, when you had as many animals as I did I guess I was never truly alone. My best friends had just been of the four-legged variety. My obsession with bears started about the age of ten when my father took me hiking one day near our home. A feat, now that I think about it, amazed me in its daring. Anyway, that’s when I’d seen my first adorable bear cub, and as far as my ten-year-old mind was concerned, there was nothing cuter, and I’d wanted to take it home instantly. My father explained the cub needed to stay with its mother, but I’d never forgotten that round bundle of black fur and my obsession with all things bears began. Taking a deep breath, I tried not to think about who was flying this death trap. When I opened my eyes, I caught Lucy Daniels my intern from the University of Washington who at twenty-four was fresh-faced with cornflower blonde hair, bright green eyes, and ready for anything. And Frank Jessup, a fellow Zoologist who at twenty-nine had dark brown hair, big blue eyes, a medium build but a killer smile, and both were grinning and laughing at me. “Do you hate to fly?” Lucy chuckled. “I hate to die,” I whined. “Don’t sweat it, Curly’s got this. That old man’s been flying for fifty years,” Lucy told me, but I still wasn’t convinced. Curly, our pilot, was older than time with glasses as thick as coke bottles. He was a round man with ruddy cheeks and surprisingly, no hair, as his name would lead you to believe. He’d met us in Fairbanks and loaded the whole team and our equipment for the one-hour plane ride to Trails End. And from the amount of time that had passed, slowly I might add, I’d say that hour was up. When I chanced a glance out the window, I saw huge mountains as far as the eye could see. Then finally, after an hour of sudden drops in altitude that left my stomach in my throat, Curly announced through the headphones “Hold on, we’re comin’ in for a landin.’” For some insane reason, I dared to look as we landed, but all I could see was water—lots of it. “Curly,” I shouted in panic, “I don’t see the runway.” “Water landin,’ the only way to get into Trails End by plane, didn’t ya know?” Are you kidding me? “Um, no, no, my travel agent failed to mention that bit of information,” I squeaked as the plane dropped in altitude and the massive body of water grew larger outside my window.

I gripped the seat rests praying to God that if he got me safely on dry land I wouldn’t complain about another thing while I was in Alaska. He must have heard my prayers because a moment later the plane touched down gently onto the lake. A spray of the crystal water hit the window as I opened my eyes and looked out at the wilds of Trails End, Alaska. “Welcome to the final frontier, Mia Roberts,” I whispered. Relieved to be in one piece I couldn’t wait to kiss dry land, but first I needed to thank God for the safe landing. Therefore, I looked heavenward, mouthed, “Thank you,” and then winked. Ready or not, here I come Alaska! “Jesus, Buddy, what the fuck?” Max growled as he hoisted bags into the back of his truck looking inside them. The sound of an aircraft landing on Crystal Lake caught his attention so he looked up and watched Curly’s plane land expertly on the lake like he’d done a thousand times before. Buddy, his foreman at Hunter Logging, continued to hand him bags of groceries as he watched Curly taxi to the dock. “There was a sale,” Buddy mumbled as he handed more sacks to Max. “Nobody needs that much processed cheese,” Max replied as he watched the propeller stop. “Figured we could make toasted cheesers with it.” Max finished loading their supplies, then jumped out of the back of his truck as he and Buddy both watched the door to the plane fly open. When a woman with raven-colored hair fell out of the plane, and hugged the dock, he felt his lip twitch. “Lower forty-eight,” Max mumbled to Buddy, who nodded in agreement as they continued to watch. Curly had mentioned to Max he was bringing in the team from SIOZ so he was surprised when he saw a second woman come off the plane. Usually, that asshole Donald Zimmer flew up. He didn’t much care for Zimmer; he was an arrogant sonofabitch who talked down to the folks at Trails End. Though, Max figured anything would be an improvement over that bastard. The longer they watched the newcomers, the more he smiled. From that distance, he couldn’t tell much about the people on board, but one thing was clear, the raven-haired woman was as clumsy as a toddler taking her first step. Shaking his head, Max hoped like hell that she didn’t get lost in the mountains tracking bears. From what he could see, she wouldn’t last a day. Handing the last of my gear to Lucy, I crawled carefully into the bed of Curly’s truck so we could look around as we made our way to the local hotel for the night. As we pulled out, heading down a narrow road that ran through town, I took in my surroundings. The town consisted of mostly log cabin style buildings and homes. Some looked like they’d been there for a century or more and some looked newer, built as the town grew. Those on the narrow main road that ran through town were single story with wooden signs out front announcing their business. Others were two-story and painted in surprisingly vivid colors. It was a quaint town to be sure, in that Alaskan frontier kind of way, but I wondered who would want to live in such an out-of-the-way place year round. Although, I had to admit, the view around the town was spectacular. Nestled in between two great mountains with a crystal-clear lake on its borders, it looked like a picture postcard you’d send home to relatives stating, “We were here.” The pine trees stood tall, almost proud around the outskirts of town as they reached towards a sky so blue it burned my eyes with its clarity. And the scent of the air was so uncommonly clean, it almost choked me with its purity. I could definitely see the draw for an outsider to come visit; it really was perfect in that “Explore the vast frontier that is Alaska” kind of way. But year round?

As we pulled past what appeared to be a grocery store, I noticed two men standing next to a beat up brown truck. One smiled as we passed by so I grinned back. He looked to be in his early thirties with red hair, a boyish kind of charm, but was big in stature, as if he worked out of doors. So, naturally, since he smiled at me, I lifted my hand to wave. That is until I looked at the man standing next to him. My breath caught when I saw light colored eyes framed by strong, manly brows that for some reason were scowling at me. The rest of his face, masculine and sexy with a beard that looked a week or two old, seemed to tighten when our eyes met. What on earth? He was big, well over six feet and maybe two hundred and thirty pounds of pure brawn. He had dark brown slightly curly hair that he wore too long, but it suited him. He’d covered his massive body with a dark gray flannel shirt with a black thermal underneath. They were tucked into jeans so worn they were threadbare, yet looked like a million bucks on him. I’d bet any amount of money they were Wranglers or Levis. He was gorgeous, the personification of what every woman thought of when she pictured a rugged man from Alaska, and he didn’t seem the least bit happy to see my team. My heart pounded as I looked at that male perfection, wondering why he seemed angry with us. Then it hit me, so I turned around and leaned through the open window in the back of the truck and shouted, “Curly, has Donald insulted the locals in the past?” “Zimmer? Ain’t a man within fifty miles of here would lift a finger for that ass-wipe hippie. Pardon my French.” Sighing, I made a mental note to do what I could to present the team in a more favorable light. Looking back at the two men who were now climbing into their truck, I wondered what a man like that did for a living that would keep him in a town this far north. I figured he grew up here, probably married his high school sweetheart and then settled down to a life of clean air and views so perfect you’d think you were walking on the streets of heaven. It was just my luck that the first man who’d made my heart beat a little faster lived at the end of the world and seemed to hate the sight of me. “Maybe I should look up Josh—something or other,” I mumbled as I watched the beat up old truck pull out into the street. Max pulled out of Smith’s Mercantile behind Curly’s truck as Buddy whistled low, mumbling, “Never seen a scientist who looked like that before.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he watched her, but he agreed with Buddy, he’d never laid eyes on a scientist who had ‘’pain in the ass’’ more plainly written across her. She was too damn everything to be anything but a pain in the ass. With long black hair and crystal blue eyes that she’d hidden behind ridiculously large glasses—she had the figure of a stripper and the look of trouble. She could try to hide her sexuality behind those huge-ass men’s frames, but those damn lips of hers screamed, “Kiss me deep and make me moan.” Not to mention the fuckin’ punch to the gut he’d felt when she passed by in the back of Curly’s truck pissed him right the hell off. Ever since Kelly left, he’d avoided women who screamed high maintenance. He’d put up with Kelly longer than he should have, thought with time she might give up her dreams of a life in the city, but she didn’t. He’d learned from that mistake and avoided women who couldn’t hack the mountain life. And this one with her flowing black hair, fuck me body, and clumsy ways screamed it loud—she was a city girl through and through. He kept his life simple now, no entanglements with high-strung women who couldn’t kick back and enjoy the beauty of a sunset or the quiet of a mountaintop as an eagle soared high above. Besides, he was too busy for romance and had no inclination to look after the disaster Kelly turned out to be. He was thirty-three and too old for the bullshit Kelly had put him through. When she’d left for greener

pastures or as she put it, “To live her life where something happened other than snow and darkness,” he’d read the note, thrown it in the trash and never looked back. That had been more than three years ago and he hadn’t tried to stop her when she left. People make choices in life and hers was to live life large and look down on those who wanted something simple out of life. He’d made the decision when he was a kid that he wanted to live here the rest of his life, woman or no woman at his side. It was in his blood, this town, his father ’s business and no man or woman was gonna convince him to leave. So for now, his casual hookups when the need hit him or the need hit Annie, a waitress at Last Call Bar and Grill, suited him just fine. As for kids, he figured he had plenty of time to settle down. Men in his family tended to wait until they were older to get married. Like his father, who’d gone to the lower forty-eight at the age of thirty-eight and found his bride. She was feisty, strong-willed and a pain in his father ’s ass from the moment he met her in Gunnison, Colorado. She’d made him work for it, but they’d been happy until the day he died. Then there was his cousin Jack, another example of waiting for the right woman to come along. He’d recently settled down at the age of forty and now had twin sons to carry on the family name. Yeah, Max figured he had plenty of time to worry about the future, time to find the right woman. For now, he’d keep his focus on his father ’s business and keeping the town of Trails End employed. As he continued to follow Curly’s truck down Main Street, still watching that damn woman in the back, he was surprised when it turned into the only motel in town. He figured they’d head straight to their base camp, which was located a short distance from his logging operation. Max needed to stop at the post office before heading back, so he pulled in, told Buddy to stay in the truck and then got out and watched as they unloaded from Curly’s truck. The black haired beauty with the ridiculous glasses was getting out of the back when she saw him staring. For some reason, known only to her, she went out of her way to smile and wave at Max. Shaking his head slowly, though his lip did twitch a fraction at her display, he watched as her face fell in embarrassment when he didn’t wave back. Then he watched in disbelief as she turned too quickly and fell over a suitcase. Max took a half step forward when she landed and for the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, a moment of real worry for her safety crossed his mind. He didn’t know what idiot sent a woman like her to Alaska, but he hoped like hell that her colleagues kept a close eye on her. There was one thing he was certain of, felt in deep in his bones—that city girl was an accident waiting to happen.

Two U pto wn g irl

Last Call Bar and Grill, a dive bar by city standards, seemed like the place to be in a town like Trails End. With winter approaching and the coming months of darkness approaching faster, I figured most in town spent as much time outside as they could while they still had sunlight. However, once dark, evidently everyone headed to the only place in town with Karaoke, beer, pretty women and greasy fries. Last Call was awesome in that antique, well-used, and overly friendly sort of way. Log framed like the other businesses in town, there was a long turn-of-the-19th-century bar against the back wall with stools across the front. It had pine wood floors were dark and worn crowded with old tables and chairs that were full of flannel-clad, hard working men. The log walls, tucked with off-white chinking, were covered with old pictures and stuffed animal heads, and all of it set the mood of the bar— manly, rugged, Alaska. In my opinion, the best part of the decor was a picture of a mountain that was the focal point behind the bar. It captured the moment when the wind kicked up and sent snow swirling towards the sun as the sparkling ice crystals glistened in the warm rays. Another favorite, which hung near a poor moose’s head, showed a bear in a meadow as the sun slowly sets on the horizon, the gold of it backlighting the great beast. However, the picture that currently had my attention was of a particular logger strapped safely in a tree to keep from falling. He was large, gorgeous, and apparently hated my guts. I’d had one too many shots, thanks to Lucy, and was currently closing one eye and then the other back and forth as my head rested in my hand. I watched as the image of Paul Bunyan, the man who’d scowled at me, jumped back and forth in front of my eyes. Yep, no matter which eye caught the image it was still the same—perfection in flannel! Drink,” Lucy mumbled breaking my concentration from the brawny lumberjack. Turning to my Patron, I licked my hand between thumb and forefinger, sprinkled salt, licked it, downed the shot, and then sucked on a lime while the burn warmed my cold body. Lucy laughed as I gasped and then I threw my head back and laughed as the buzz took away the day. “Jesus, look at the size of some of these guys,” Lucy replied loudly over the Karaoke singer. I turned, cast my eyes around the bar, and saw a sea of well-built men wearing flannel. It was Friday night in Trails End and anyone under the age of seventy was at the bar to listen to those who were brave enough to sing their favorite songs. We weren’t heading up to our base camp until the next morning so Lucy decided we needed a night out to let loose. Since I was nervous about leading the field study Lucy easily convinced me to come out for one drink—that was three or was it four shots ago? Now I was happily feeling the effects. Head swimming, I looked around the bar until I saw Paul Bunyan sitting at the far end drinking a beer. He looked up, locked eyes with me for a brief moment, then being the geek that I am I lowered my eyes and looked away. After I’d made a fool out of myself in front of that gorgeous man, I’d decided my plan of attack where he was concerned was simple—evade and hide. I know, I’m pathetic, but I’d already made a fool out of myself once and on a good day, I’m awkward with men. And let’s face it, that is no ordinary man. Lucy giggled when another example of Alaskan male perfection approached our end of the bar. This wasn’t the first man to approach since we’d entered, but he was the most attractive one by far.

Built like a logger with bulging arms and a broad chest, his best feature was his devilish smile. However, his brown eyes that were crowned with long lashes and seemed like they held secrets were a close second. “I’m Jake,” muscle bound man told us as he stuck out his hand. “I’m Lucy and this is Mia,” Lucy replied oh, so, cheerfully. “Are you ladies here with the research team headin’ up the mountain?” “Sure are. SIOZ sends a team up three times a year to collect data and change out cameras,” she informed him. “How long are you stayin’?” “We’re here until the job is done,” Lucy informed him with a breathy quality to her voice. “Excellent, then I insist you ladies come down from Grizzly Pointe while you’re here. I’d hate for such lovely ladies to be in our midst and not get to spend quality time with you.” Lucy beamed, excited by his request as she scanned his body. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that once we headed into the mountain range we wouldn’t see civilization until the end of the trip. As Lucy continued to flirt with Jake, I stupidly looked to the end of the bar where Paul Bunyan sat. I watched with no small amount of interest as a woman with blonde hair walked up, leaned in, and talked to him. She was pretty, well built, and wore her clothes tighter than I did, but you could definitely see why a man who looked like Paul would be with a woman who looked like her. Feeling like a voyeur, I started to turn my head, but not before I saw the blonde run her hand up and down his arm. Seeing that, I felt a twinge of jealousy at what they had. I’d dated, rather unsuccessfully, but my awkwardness and inexperience or just plain bad luck with men (Donald for example) kept my head in books and the sheets of my bed cold. I should have known better than to date my boss, it was cliché on so many levels. Nonetheless, my loneliness had won out over my practical side. Thankfully, I’d come to my senses and ended it, although that doesn’t stop him from trying to convince me at every turn to reconsider. Donald’s just too single-minded and full of himself for my tastes and he didn’t know how to have fun. However, his worst fault, the one that infuriated me the most, was that he never listened to my opinions or considered my point of view. He acted as if my views on nature and man living together in harmony were childish. He felt the only way to intervene when a species was in danger of extinction, was to eliminate man from the equation by forcing them out. So I’d said, “Screw that,” cut my losses, chalked it up to stupidity and then moved on. Still staring at Paul Bunyan, I wondered if he was arrogant, belittled women as stupid or just considered them all playthings for men. As I continued to stare, he looked my direction and held my eyes. Of course, in my semi-drunken state, I almost imagined his face gentled a bit instead of scowling as he had earlier. When Lucy laughed suddenly, stealing my thoughts from hot lumberjacks, I looked up and watched as Jake turned his head and shouted across the bar “Ralph, another round for Mia and Lucy.” Here’s the thing about what happened next, I’ve been out of college a few years and wasn’t one to party when I was there, so I didn’t have a vast knowledge in all things alcohol related. That being said, I’m pretty sure I’d remember seeing a standing body shot. After Ralph, a man in his fifties with a cool as hell mustache that curled at the ends like a prospector from the 1890’s, brought our round of shots, I watched in fascination as Lucy and Jake took body shots off of each other. Jake, with his devilish smile in place, lifted his shirt as Lucy ran her hands over his abs. With a look of awe on her face, Lucy winked at me as she leaned in, ran her tongue up his chest, sprinkled salt, and then licked said salt off him slowly. Watching this, I felt my

mouth drop open and my heart rate speed up as this apparent seduction played out in front of me. When Jake repeated the same moves on her neck, my mouth went dry, apparently I needed to get laid if body shots in a crowded bar were turning me on. However, turned on or not, when Jake turned to me with open arms, inviting me to do the same, I felt my head start shaking no. I was about to excuse myself for the safety of the ladies’ room when I heard a deep rumbling voice shout, “Jake.” My eyes turned towards the bellowing voice and caught Paul Bunyan crooking his finger, indicating he wanted to speak with Jake. I thought I’d been saved by bellowing Paul and had started to relax when the man himself, looking angry for some reason, headed our direction. “You want in on this, Max?” Jake asked as he walked up. Danger, Will Robinson, operation “Evade and Hide” commencing now! Max, as Jake had called him, was more intimidating up close and in person than from across the bar. He was angry that much was obvious. You could feel it rolling it off him in waves. I guess I’d managed to piss him off again, but in my buzzed state, I knew I couldn’t go toe to toe with him. So, needing to “evade and hide,” I turned my eyes from both men and looked for the nearest exit. As I was about to make a break for it, the man running the Karaoke machine tapped his microphone and asked, “Who’s next?” Therefore, without properly functioning brain cells, I stupidly shouted, “We are.” Without asking Lucy, I grabbed her hand and pulled her stumbling towards the stage. When we reached the steps, I shoved her up, holding on to her jeans for balance as she laughed. When we made it to center stage, I took the mic’ offered, turned towards the audience, and froze when I saw a roomful of eyes staring back at me. Lucy laughed, not caring we were in front of a bunch of strangers, then turned to the man operating the Karaoke machine and embarrassed me further. “My boss loves Billy Joel, plays him all the time at work.” Oh, dear lord! As we waited for a song to queue up, I peered around the room and saw men smiling back at us, but two women on the front row were frowning. The two overly busty women, with hair so bleached it was white, started whispering amongst themselves, pointing our direction, then one shouted, “Figures a lower forty-eight’er like her would like Billy Joel.” Figures a bimbo like you is a bimbo! “Lower forty-eight or not, Billy Joel is, and always will be, “The Piano Man,” I bit out since bimbo needed a lesson in all things Rock and Roll Before they could respond back, the opening “Ah’s” of “Uptown Girl” rang out and I closed my eyes. Now my humiliation was complete. Billy Joel was my favorite, had been since I was a child thanks to my parents, so I couldn’t help myself, one does not stand still when Billy Joel is rockin’ the house. Lucy started singing as Billy filled my ears then, thanks to the alcohol coursing through my system, I started bouncing to the beat and wiggling my ass. When I belted out my first words, I was in my “Joel Zone,” so I danced around the stage with Lucy and worked that crowd like a Vegas showgirl. And let me tell you I had a blast. The men in the room clapped to the beat, whistled loud, and catcalled when I turned my back to the crowd singing over my shoulder. When the song was over, I threw my head back and laughed as the men erupted into applause. One elderly man handed me a beer so I took it and toasted the old-timer for his generosity. Hot and thirsty I tilted my head back and took a long, deep pull from the ice-cold bottle. A chorus of “More, more,” rang out as finished downing the beer, the room spinning faster with the additional drink.

Regrettably, I wasn’t paying attention to Lucy since I was laughing with the old men who’d approached the stage. When a new song came on, I ignored it. That is until I heard Lucy speak into the microphone. When she shouted my name, I turned and watched as she pointed to the screen. Feeling great, still in my “Joel Zone,” I shrugged “why not” and pushed up my glasses to look at the song. When I read the title, I hesitated. Adele’s “Someone Like You” was a poignant song full of emotions I’d never experienced, but often wondered about. I knew Adele wrote most of her songs from personal experience, experiences I’d yet to have, but wanted. “Sing it little lady,” shouted an old man with a big belly and silver hair. Uncertain as to why I was hesitating, I cleared my throat, turned to the karaoke monitor, and jumped in on the second line while rolling my eyes at Lucy. I belted out the words as best I could and then walked over to my intern and pulled her to center stage. Lucy shook her head and backed away as I continued to sing, putting as much feeling into Adele’s words as I could muster. When that mouth, the one that had occupied the last hour of his fantasies opened, and started singing, Max’s lip twitched for the second time that day. He scanned her body puzzled by her attire. Her black locks were up in a high ponytail and she wore a T-shirt with a fuckin’ Care Bear on the front that read, “Cuddle me.” She had on loose fitting khaki pants a man would wear, rolled up at the cuff and sneakers on her feet. She looked ridiculous, nothing like he thought she would, he’d figured her for designer jeans and fancy tops. But this quirky look, like she didn’t give a shit what she wore confused him and intrigued him even more. He’d watched her down shots and laugh like she didn’t have a care in the world. He’d been surprised by her behavior, would have bet money a woman like her wouldn’t set foot in a dive bar like this, let alone done shots like a college student. Max took all that in but still held his ground. Laid back or not she was still troubled, he could feel it in the depths of his bones. Yet, every time her head tilted back and she laughed that husky laugh of hers, he’d felt it in his cock. Christ, he hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like this in his life, Max thought. Not about to get tangled up with a woman like her, he’d decided he needed to finish his beer and get the fuck out of there before he did something stupid. Then Jake had hollered for more shots and he’d watched Ralph Potter, owner of Last Call, bring three more. Uneasy for some reason he’d stayed in his seat to keep an eye on the situation. Jake was a ladies’ man, always had been, and tonight was no different. Max kept watching as Lucy, the blonde he now knew from Jakes introduction, giggled, snagged a salt shaker, and pointed at Jake. His brows had shot straight up when Jake raised his shirt, wondering what the hell he was up to. Watching them closely Max reached for his beer, but the sip he was gonna take had stopped short of his mouth as he’d tilted his head and watched Lucy run her hands over Jake’s abs. With a smile, she’d leaned in, licked his chest, sprinkled salt, and then licked the salt off him slowly all while Jake watched with rapt attention. She’d thrown her shot back as Jake put a lime in his mouth and then she’d raised up on her toes kissing the lime from his mouth. Max chuckled when he finally took a pull from his beer, though he about choked on that sip when Jake repeated her moves and then turned to Mia, he now knew was the raven-haired beauty, with open arms. Max had immediately shouted, “Jake,” it was a gut response to what he didn’t know. Jake had turned to him and smiled so Max crooked his finger to indicate he should come to him. When Jake held up his own finger, Max stood from his stool and moved towards them, his eyes on Jake the whole way. When he arrived, ready to pull Jake back from the women, that’s when Mia had run scared up to the stage. Now he was watching as she strutted and bounced singing about a sophisticated woman falling for

a downtown man. Jake hooted next to him when she ran her hand down her body and Max’s jaw tightened watching that stripper ’s body move like one. More men joined in with catcalls while Joanne Drummond and Suzy Wills, two of the loudest women he’d ever met, threw out insults. He stood frozen, watching her swing her hips as both women flirted with the crowd. His gut tightened further when she pulled that raven-black hair down and shook it out. It was sex hair, as if she’d just been ridden hard and put away wet. Seeing that veil of silk, Max clenched his fist to gain control of his reaction. She ended the song with her back to the audience, hips still fuckin’ swaying as she turned her head and winked at the crowd. Max mumbled, “Shit,” as he felt his resolve to keep his distance weaken, but it got worse when she sang again. The second he heard those mournful words of longing spill from her lips, he unconsciously moved back to his stool and grabbed his beer watching her sing. He closed his eyes and listened to her rich lower tones, the husky quality of her voice the sexiness of it as she emphasized words as if she felt them in her soul. When he opened his eyes, Annie was coming out of the kitchen and she winked at him. He and Annie scratched each other ’s itch when the need be, but they weren’t exclusive. He knew she saw other men and that worked for him. Turning back to the stage, his attention back on those fuckin’ lips of hers, he wondered what it would be like to come home to a woman like Mia instead of casual hookups. If he was honest, he knew he had a desire for more than one-night stands here and there. Desires, dreams, whatever the fuck you wanted to call them, but he had them for the right woman to share his life. Unfortunately, he’d yet to meet a woman who stirred his blood enough to care—until today. Clenching his jaw at the turn of his thoughts, Max watched as Annie approached him. When she made it to the end of the bar, she leaned in, ran her hand up his arm and then whispered “You stopping by later?” Max looked towards the stage as Mia sang and replied “Another time.” Annie ran her hand down his back as she watched him, then her eyes turned to the stage for a moment before she nodded and moved on. He had no idea why he’d done that, he’d fully intended to take her home until he laid eyes on that damn woman. Deciding he should call it a night before he did something stupid, Max stood, threw bills on the bar, slapped Jake on the back, and started to leave as the song ended. As he tried to push through the crowd, he watched Mia laugh with the men up front and took a deep breath to keep from walking over and talking to her himself. Still heading towards the door, he saw old Joe give her a shot of something brown and she took it, raised the glass in thanks, and then downed it. Jesus, he’d lost count of how many drinks she’d had and didn’t want to be close when she got sick. Shaking his head, Max then watched her take a shot of something red from Derek Jones but stopped in his tracks as she started swaying a too much for his liking. “Fuck, I knew she’d be a pain in my ass,” he mumbled as he changed direction. Moving towards the stage, prepared to haul her off before she did something stupid, he heard Suzy call out “Thanks for ruining my favorite song.” Max muttered, “Christ,” as Lucy leaned over and with an attitude replied, “Why, she didn’t sing your theme song “Hell on Heels.” Max closed his eyes because he knew what was coming, could sense when a catfight was about to break out—Joanne and Suzy were famous for them when they were drunk. He’d grown up with both women, watched year after year as they went through men trying to find one who would put up with their shit. Sober, he liked them just fine, and since he’d never gone there

with either woman, he’d never been on the receiving end of their tongue. However, drunk, they were a pain in the ass. Just as he expected Suzy stood and said something he couldn’t hear. Though the look of shock on Lucy's face told him, she was in rare form. Unfortunately, he couldn’t reach them both before Lucy jumped off the stage. She got in Suzy’s face, bit out “Bring it blondie,” and then shoving match began. Max watched in surprise as Mia jumped awkwardly off the stage and tried to break them apart. Mumbling, “Fuck,” he shoved through the crowd that had surrounded them, reaching the three women just as Mia stumbled back heading towards the floor. When he reached out to stop her descent, Mia’s arms came up and her elbow clocked him in the jaw, sending his head back as she went down. Recovering quickly, he looked down and saw Mia trying to get up on her feet and back to the fight. Done with this shit, he leaned down, got right in her face, and ordered, “Stay the fuck out of it.” Mia, drunk off her ass at this point, scowled at him for ordering her around. If he weren’t so fuckin’ pissed, he’d have thought it was cute. When he tried to pick her up and move her away from the brawl, her eyes grew wide and she gagged. Before he could react, she threw her hand to her mouth, crawled to her knees and unluckily, for Max, heaved once, and emptied her stomach on his boots. “Christ,” Max bit out as he jumped back. Knowing she wasn’t done Max leaned down and hauled her to her feet. When she looked around, swaying, not moving like she needed to, Max bent, picked her up, and carried her down the hall. Mia kept mumbling, “I should have stopped at two shots,” and he couldn’t have agreed more. When they reached the ladies’ room, Max pushed open the door with his foot and carried her into a stall. He shut the door when she dropped to her knees and moved to the towel dispenser pulling out a handful and wetting them in the sink. He moved back to the stall after she became quiet, and opened the door handing her the towels. Mia took them, her bottom lip trembling as she pulled her glasses from her face. After she had wiped her mouth, she looked up at Max and smiled shyly, her face turning pink with embarrassment. When her eyes hit his, his gut tightened further in response and he took a step back from the intensity of the color. Unable to break her gaze, Max stared back as she blinked slowly, lazily, as if she’d just woken from a long restful nap. Then she smiled, turning the full force of those crystal blue pools on him, and something shifted in Max, as if the earth tilted off its axis. Heart pounding, Max took a step towards her reaching out. When her tiny hand folded into his when he picked her up to help her home, he knew then he was in trouble.

Three Great Ass

“It says here that Trails End is a logging town. They’re proud of their history and every year before the winter months bring little daylight, they celebrate their town’s heritage with a Founder ’s Day logging competition. Three friends, loggers who wanted to start their own business, founded the town of Trails End in 1898. Joseph Hunter, who cut trees until the day he died. And Albert Potter, who left behind the rugged life of a logger opening the town’s first bar and finally Guy Madison, who also left the lumberjack life to become the first mayor of Trails End. To this day a Hunter, Potter, and Madison still reside in Trails End,” Frank read from one of the Founder ’s Day fliers. “Apparently, Founder ’s Day brings everyone from their homes and to the inlet of Crystal Lake to either participate in the festivities or watch as they consume their weight in beer,” Lucy laughed “The brochure says they use the bay for logrolling. It’s roped-off and the shallows are sectionedoff for the events. Whoa, there are sixty-foot-tall cedar spar poles for speed climbing and various sized poles of cedar for sawing competitions and axe-tossing,” Frank finished. Even though it was early, there were people milling around like the middle of the afternoon. Kids eating ice cream and cotton candy, men and women in different costumes depicting days long past, and the sound of chainsaws rang out as I took it all in behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses. Someone tap-danced on my head the night before, I’m sure of it. In fact, I’m pretty sure whoever it was wore boots—big, manly, black boots. We were currently loading the Jeep to head up into the mountain range to Grizzly Pointe. The drive would take ten minutes and then we had to hike up the ridge to the area where the bears were most likely roaming. Since my head was pounding from too many shots, all I wanted to do was load into the Jeep and leave. Frank was stuffing the last of our gear in the trunk while I nursed an enormous cup of coffee. Lucy, who was staring across the parking lot at the festivities, suddenly shouted, rather loudly, I might add, “Oh, wow, look at how fast they climb those poles.” Frank and I both looked up and turned towards the field when she shouted. Then we watched as loggers sprinted up sixty-foot poles, all sure-footed. They appeared to be using some sort of strap and cleats to climb the poles and from this distance, looked just like monkeys climbing a tree. Once they made it to the top, they descended just as quickly. However, one man, huge compared to the others, was quicker by far. He went up and down the pole, leaving the others in the dust. Something tugged at my memory and I thought back to the night before and the picture of Paul Bunyan on the wall. Unfortunately, most of the night was a blur. There was drinking, I remembered that. Singing Billy Joel was kinda clear, though I prayed it was a hallucination brought on by too much alcohol. Oh, God, and puking on someone’s boots, I vaguely remember that as well. There was a faint memory of green eyes staring back at me, angry at first and then gentling when I got sick. There was also a vague memory of strong arms carrying me to my room. Thankfully, when I woke up this morning I was clothed, but only in bra and panties. How I got back to the motel and out of my clothes was a mystery, but I was alone in the room when I woke up. However, the rest of the night— gone, nada, zero memory. I knew I’d drive myself crazy if I didn’t find out what happened, yet, at the same time, I was afraid to find out. Eyeing Lucy, I decided to rip the Band-Aid off and ask. However, before I could, Lucy turned suddenly as we watched another set of climbers take their turn. She reached into the Jeep

pulling out the camera bag. When she found the digital 35mm with zoom lens she took off across the street, so Frank and I followed. As we reached the edge of the festivities, Lucy brought the camera up and looked through the lens, zooming in on the climbers. “That’s Jake up next, come on,” she announced and then took off running. “Lucy, we need to get up the mountain,” I shouted back, but she didn’t listen and kept heading towards the speed-climbing arena. Frustrated and aching I turned to Frank and told him, “Move the Jeep around to the other side and I’ll go find her.” Nodding, Frank smiled as he looked in the direction Lucy had gone and then mumbled, “At least one of us got lucky last night.” I whipped around and watched Lucy disappear into the crowd, her ponytail bouncing as she sprinted towards her target. Had Lucy gotten lucky last night? I searched my memory and pulled up a picture of my young intern licking her way up a muscled body. Oh boy! I started shoving through the crowds of people, amazed at how many residents there were in this small town. I wouldn’t have guessed there were more than five hundred people when we arrived, but the wall in front of me proved me wrong. Making my way towards the speed-climbing arena, I looked to the right when a man shouted “Loggers to your poles,” and saw a group of men getting ready to participate in the standing chop block. From what I knew about this event, which was little, the logger who was strongest, and surest with his strikes, won. I kept moving forward, my eyes scanning the men out of curiosity. Let’s face it, hungover or not, these were still burly men swinging axes and that was hot. Therefore, being a single woman, I looked, and then I froze. At the far end was Paul Bunyan, and his six plus feet (and I’m thinking fiveish inches) of pure heavenly brawn. He’d pulled the shirt from his body (thank you, Jesus) and was now standing in nothing but his jeans, work boots and a sexy leather cuff on his wrist. I knew he had muscles, you couldn’t miss that about him, but seeing it in the flesh, flexing—no freaking words. Tanned from working in the sun, his chest was broad and chiseled like a statue, with a light sprinkling of chest hair. My eyes scanned down his body and saw tight abs defined like a boxers. But, his arms, the way those biceps and triceps flexed and released as he swung his axe warming up, Lord have mercy. In a trance from all the muscle bound goodness, I found myself moving to, and sitting on, the grass near the water ’s edge to watch. Okay, more like drooling rather than watching. But the crazy thing was, for a moment, I swore he looked my direction and held my gaze as his mouth twitched in a half grin. When the announcer called out “Loggers ready,” I watched as he set his stance by measuring the distance to the log with his axe. Then he brought it down low, ready for his first strike. When the whistle blew, he swung with power as he chipped away strategically at the circle on the side of the three-foot smooth log. His blows were so powerful, after five swings, he moved to the other side and swung his axe again with the skill of a man who’d done it all his life. He was intimidating, seemingly godlike in presence compared to the other competitors and swung his axe with such force that he beat the others by a full thirty seconds. When he was finished, he picked up his shirt, handed his axe to the next contestant, and to my surprise and utter terror, made his way straight towards me. His eyes never left my face until he stopped at the water ’s edge. Then he dropped his shirt and kneeled down dipping his hands into the cold water, cupping them. Since my ability to think, let alone speak, went south when all that muscle knelt down beside me. I said nothing out of fear he’d

recognize me from the day before. Then, like it was my birthday and he was my present, he splashed water onto his sweat-covered face and neck, repeating this until the water dripped down his chest. Transfixed by the droplets, I watched the water run down all those hard nooks and plains. When he ran his strong fingers through his long hair, the front, curling down into his eyes, I stared spellbound, caught like a moth to a flame. “You feelin’ better?” A deep rumbling voiced asked. My brain, which was firing at half capacity, slowly registered his words. When my eyes shot to his, he was staring at me as if he expected an answer. So I stuttered like a fool and asked, “Feeling, feeling better?” “Yeah, babe, are you feelin’ better. I figured you’d have a headache after last night.” Dread crept in at his words and I knew then I was missing something important. My confusion must have shown since he smiled, pulled his shirt back over that gorgeous body, then sat down next to me leaning in. Then he rocked my world when he said, “You don’t remember what happened between us, do you?” Max chuckled as Mia’s expression paled, then turned bright red behind the dark glasses she wore. He figured she’d be fuzzy about the night before, but not so fuzzy that she wouldn’t remember him carrying her from the bathroom and out the door of the bar to her motel room. Jerry, who owned the motel, had let him into her room when they arrived. She’d been barely awake when he put her on her feet, then held her steady as she found her balance. She’d smiled dreamily at him as he held her close, slurring, “You have beautiful eyes, Paul Bunyan.” Then she’d pulled that damn Care Bears tee over her head and yanked off her sneakers and pants, showing him that stripper ’s body as if she undressed in front of him every day. He’d had to ball his fists just to keep from reaching out to her. Then she’d stumbled forward, her ample breasts pinned to his chest as she’d reached up and caressed his beard. He locked eyes with her again as her tiny hand ran down his face and the sense of drowning returned as if he couldn’t catch his breath. Then she’d pulled his face down, got up on her toes, and kissed him softly on the cheek, whispering, “You’re like a big fuzzy bear. I love Grizzlies.” “Jesus, you’re a cute drunk,” he’d chuckled. She’d turned from him giggling and his eyes had moved to that firm ass of hers as she crawled into bed and passed out. He’d moved to the bed, positioned her on her side, and then watched her for a moment. When it was clear she was all right, he’d covered her and then left. When he noticed her at the water ’s edge, hiding behind those dark glasses, he figured she’d come to say thank you for seeing her back to her room. Now that he knew she didn’t remember, he decided to have some fun. “What do you mean what happened between us?” she asked breathlessly. Max leaned in, pulled the sunglasses from her face, and he replied, “Uptown girl, I’ll have to work harder next time if you don’t remember callin’ me your grizzly bear.” “What?” she whispered, then continued flustered, “no, no I didn’t, I, I, you, you scowled at me and then, and then I saw you, I saw you at . . . oh, God, the bar.” Like she was searching for an answer to all her questions, she leaned in and looked closely at his eyes. After a moment of searching, while Max tried to keep from laughing, she closed her eyes and whispered, “I’m never drinking again.” Christ, that did it. Max laughed ‘cause he couldn’t help it. She looked miserable, but mostly adorable in another T-shirt with a Koala Bear on the front that read, “I’m over koalafied.” When she looked away, color rising up her neck again, he decided to end her misery. Tugging gently on her ponytail to get her attention, when she looked back at him, he grinned a crooked grin

and let her off the hook. “The puking, I could have done without, but your ass in that sexy as hell underwear, not gonna lie, best view I’ve seen in years. And that’s sayin’ somethin’ considerin’ where I live.” She gasped, and then surprisingly threw back her head and laughed deep and husky, fuckin’ fantastic and his body reacted to those sexy tones. When she turned back to him, her crystal pools sparkled with mirth. Then she stuck out her hand and answered shyly, “Hi, I’m Mia Roberts. Since you’ve seen my ass already, we might as well be on a first name basis.” Feeling like an idiot, but trying to act as if it was no big deal, I watched as he wrapped his big hand around mine, dwarfing it. Then his crooked grin grew into a full-blown smile, dazzling me with its intensity. I was so dazzled, by the way, that I almost missed his reply. “I'm Max, Max Hunter. Anytime you wanna show me that ass again the answer is yes.” Now, I know I’ve mentioned that I’m awkward with men and this is a perfect example of how awkward. Instead of being, say, sophisticated at this moment and rolling with the proverbial punches, I, of course, rambled. “Right, no, I mean, yes. Shit, what I meant to say is, we’re leaving this morning and, and.” Feeling flustered and a little dizzy at the idea of showing Max my ass again, I pulled my hand from his, stood abruptly, and then blurted out, “I have to find Lucy and get up the mountain.” God, I’m an idiot. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment when he chuckled at my stuttering mouth. Even so, I’ll admit to a tiny tingle down south just from hearing it directed at me. He knew he was making me nervous, I could see it in the width of his smile. Even knowing this, instead of trying to save face I wanted to evade and hide, so I rattled off “Nice to meet you Mr. Hunter, my ass appreciates your chivalry,” and I fled like a child. Chivalry? Oh, God, please, just kill me now. Then, of course, making a bigger fool of myself, I turned too quickly during my hasty retreat and stumbled up the hill as I left him standing by the water. When I looked back to see if he was watching as I pushed through the crowd, I collided headfirst with the blonde I’d seen talking with Max at the bar. “Shit, sorry,” I mumbled, but the blonde only replied, “He isn’t the type to settle down. Fair warning if you go there.” “Oh, um, no, no, not going there,” I laughed, “going up the mountain though. Excuse me, I really need to go kill myself now,” I mumbled as I hightailed it up the hill. Unbelievable, so far this trip I’d gotten drunk, shown my ass, made a complete fool out of myself and managed to sing in front of a few hundred people. The way my luck was going so far, I’d be dead by the end of the day. I just wanted to find Lucy so we could get the hell out of Dodge, was that too much to ask? Mumbling to myself, I headed towards the speed-climbing arena in search of my missing intern. On my way to the venue, I managed to get sidetracked once again when I passed an arena with a huge bull’s eye in the center. I paused in fascination and watched as a woman, big in stature, picked up a hand axe and hurled it through the air towards the large target. It landed just off dead center, and the crowd broke into applause as the announcer called out her score. Impressed by her throw, for the first time in a long time, I wished I had some athletic ability. Still watching, I clapped as the next contestant walked up. She was an older woman, middle to late sixties, I figured, with gorgeous silver hair that she wore long and braided down her back. As if she’d

been doing it her whole life she raised the hand axe, concentrated on the target, and then wound up and let it fly nailing the bull’s eye dead center. More than impressed, I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled loudly for the woman as the announcer shouted “Bull’s eye for Maxine.” When she stepped back to let another woman have a go, I walked over to her smiling and told her “That was impressive, have you been throwing all your life?” “I have, young lady. I was raised in Colorado and then swept off my feet by a dashing Alaskan who chopped trees for a living. I’m Maxine, by the way, and you must be Mia.” Well, that confirmed it, small towns have no secrets and apparently my performance and subsequent puking on Max’s boots had made the rounds. Trying not to blush, I shook the woman’s hand while ignoring her knowing smile. “It’s nice to meet you and yes, I’m Mia Roberts with SIOZ.” Maxine was about to say something when her attention seemed to wander over my shoulder. I was about to turn to see what she was looking at when she moved to my side and asked “You ever throw an axe?” “Oh, no, I’m not athletic. I’m pretty sure my parents removed all sharp objects from our house when I was growing up.” “Nonsense, it doesn’t take any special skill to throw an axe, you just gotta envision someone you hate in the center of the bull’s eye. Works like a charm. I usually think about Mayor Madison when I’m aiming,” she explained as she grabbed my hand and hauled me into the throwing ring. “Oh, no, no, really I . . . wow, that’s heavier than I thought it would be.” “Now, just keep your eyes on the center of the bull’s eye and think about someone you hate.” “But, I don’t hate anyone.” “Sure ya do, everyone hates somebody.” My eyes drifted over her shoulder as she spoke and saw Max heading our direction as the blonde from the bar kept pace with him. He was gorgeous, like a romance novel hero, and God help me, at that moment I hated the blonde. For the first time in my life, I was jealous, even though I had no right to be. Therefore, when I turned to throw, I pictured the blonde's face on the target and let the axe fly. Then I watched in horror as it hit the side, flew a fair distance sideways, and buried itself in the ground near the feet of spectators. Everyone gasped when the axe landed and then jumped back. Maxine chuckled “Mercy, never seen one take flight like that,” and I thought, of course, you haven’t, I’m a walking talking danger most days. Unfortunately, before I could say “I’m so sorry, I tried to tell you.” I heard a deep voice rumble, “Jesus, Mom, are ya tryin’ to get everyone killed?” I may have only heard that voice once, but the sound of it was burned into my cerebrum. So on the word “Mom,” I spun around and found Max scowling at the both of us as I whispered “Your mother?” “Yeah, my mother, though her lack of common sense makes me wonder.” “Funny, Maximilian. Give me that axe and let her try again.” “Were you not just standin’ here when she threw the last one?” “And? She just needs to focus. Mia, next time visualize Max as the bull’s eye. Somethin’ tells me you’d hit it then.” “Really, I don’t need to throw again,” I explained, but neither one of them seemed to hear me. Beyond humiliated and maybe even a little pissed at Max for assuming I’d kill someone, I started to move away as Max and his mother, continued to argue. When I turned to leave, and looked up the hill I saw (and it could be said I saw red instantly) Donald Zimmer talking with a pudgy man who looked

fit-to-be-tied. I couldn’t believe my eyes, he was supposed to be in a meeting, it was the sole reason I’d come all the way out here in first damn place. Without so much as a goodbye to Max or his mother, I headed straight for Donald. My head was still pounding and it seemed to take on a life of its own as my anger increased. Dressed in Bermuda shorts, long-sleeved T-shirt and boots with his trademark dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail, he looked arrogant and full of himself as he spoke with the man. As I approached, I heard Donald say, “The bears are my main priority, not this town.” The pudgy man turned beet red at this news and then shouted in return, “You’ll put the whole town out of work.” “Donald, what’s going on and why in the hell are you here?” I questioned as I came to a stop next to both men. Donald turned, smiled at me, and then like he usually did, he reached out and touched me inappropriately. Only this time he put his hand on my waist and drew me closer. With a huge smile in place when he looked at me, Donald leaned in and announced, “I did it, Mia. I got Congressman Sheppard to agree to sponsor a bill to reclassify this area as a national forest. All I need are fifty thousand signatures and he’ll push to get the land around Grizzly Pointe reclassified.” “Say that again?” the same rumbling voice from before asked from behind me, but this time the anger was lethal in tone. “Hello, Hunter,” Donald replied with disdain. Turning fully to Max, his mouth pulled tight over his teeth, and his brows pinched in anger as he responded with nothing short of malice. “I suppose you should be the first to know. Once I have the signatures needed to sponsor a bill, and I will get them, I promise you that, this whole mountain range will become a national forest. When that happens, eminent domain takes effect and you’ll be forced to sell. Your logging is pushing my bears further north out of their summer feeding range and it’s affecting their reproduction. I’m done standing by as I watch my bears dwindle in numbers so you can kill trees. So, the only recourse I have is to shut you down.” As soon as the words left his mouth, I closed my eyes. What was he thinking? He’d kill this town if that happened and he knew it. Then I heard Maxine, who’d walked up next to me, gasp, then seethe in a tight voice, “My husband’s family has been on this mountain for over a hundred years. Most of the people in this town depend upon the jobs we provide to survive. Are you sayin’ the lives of a handful of bears are more important than the livelihood of twenty-five hundred people?” “Of course, he isn’t,” I tried to explain to her, but Max took that moment to grab Donald by the shirt and haul him off his feet. Donald shouted, “You can’t bully me into stopping,” as his feet left the ground, but Max didn’t listen and kept right on threatening him. “No? But I can kill you before you kill this town,” Max roared in his face. Donald paled and tried to push him off, but it was pointless. Max outweighed him by fifty pounds and if his size wasn’t factor enough, his anger was so great that Donald never stood a chance. Onlookers watched as I grabbed Max’s arm and tried to pull him off. Lucy, Frank, and Jake ran up at that moment and the men tried to pull Max off Donald as well. Maxine and I stepped back from the scuffle as Jake reasoned with Max to let Donald go. Finally, with a shove, he let Donald go with a warning. “Don’t fuck with me and don’t fuck this town,” Max growled. When he turned towards his mother, he glared at me with an intensity I’d never felt in my life. It

was clear right then he hated me because of who I worked with and I didn’t blame him one bit. Lowering my eyes, ashamed to look at them both as they walked away, my head snapped up when Donald said, “It’s best not to get friendly with the natives, Mia. It’s our responsibility to look after the bears. You’ll only cloud the issues when you interact with them.” I wasn’t a violent person, but at that moment, I could have killed him myself for treating people so callously. Shoving past him, needing to be anywhere but in his presence, I was stopped short when Donald grabbed my wrist and twisted tightening his grip. “Did you sleep with him?” he asked unexpectedly. “What?” I asked confused, wincing in pain. “I arrived late last night and saw Lucy and some man stumbling drunk into her room. Then I saw Hunter carry you into your room. So, I’ll ask again, did you sleep with him.” “That’s none of your business, Donald. Let go of my arm you’re hurting me,” I shouted. “You know SIOZ won’t look favorably on its employees getting drunk and sleeping around like common sluts.” My head snapped back as if he’d struck me, but his threat was clear. Back him or he’d inform SIOZ of our behavior. It was instinctual. I didn’t think about it before my hand connected with his face. The slap stung my hand and was so loud that the crowd who’d gathered had gasped in surprise. Donald let go of me the instant my hand connected with his face, but he shoved me back when he did and I stumbled. Pissed off by the whole scene, I turned too quickly and lost my balance as usual, falling to my knees. Lucy came to my rescue chuckling “Come on slugger,” as she helped me to my feet. I heard laughter, but didn’t care. I was glad I’d slapped him and now that I thought about it, I bet if I’d pictured Donald while throwing that damn axe, I’d have won the whole bloody competition.

Four String him up b y his entrail s

There are times when a man has to walk away from a fight and there are times when he should make a stand. Walking away before he beat the shit out of that sonofabitch Zimmer was one of those times. Max knew he couldn’t stop that bastard from shutting down his town if he were behind bars for assault, so he’d let him go with a warning. Regrettably for Zimmer, that thought process was shortlived when he heard Mia’s sultry voice shout, “Let go of my arm you’re hurting me.” Max whipped around at the sound of her frightened voice and saw Mia’s wrist held in Zimmer ’s firm grip. Again, unfortunately for Zimmer, the anger he’d tried to bury to avoid killing the bastard broke loose like a bull in the ring. He took off like a shot when he saw Mia’s face pinch in pain, ignoring his mother as she called out to stop him. As he charged up the hill Mia slapped Zimmer and then stumbled back, turned, and fell to her knees. His anger had reached a boiling point when Mia hit the ground, so when he reached Zimmer, he grabbed his shoulder, turned the man punching him with the force of a sledgehammer. Dazed and confused, blood shot from Zimmer ’s mouth as he went down, grabbing his head as he fell. “You keep your fuckin’ hands off of her, do you hear me?” Max growled standing over Zimmer in a rage. Zimmer, not a stupid man, nodded once and made no move to get back up. Max turned to Mia then and lifted her arm, looking at her wrist, and saw bruises had already formed on her wrist. “He marked you,” Max bit out feeling his control slipping by the second. His mother called out “Max!” so he turned his head and saw the fear in her eyes. Closing his own, he willed himself to calm down. When he opened them and saw the bruises on Mia’s petite wrist, he knew if he didn’t leave now he’d make an already fucked up situation worse. Taking a deep breath, he did the only thing he could to defuse his anger. He stepped back from Mia, and without another word turned and stalked away. “Whoa, Mad Max,” Lucy mumbled as he left. Then, in her sultry tones, Max heard Mia respond out of breath “Mad Max indeed . . .” And he smiled. Rocky peaks passed by as we headed towards Grizzly Pointe. The stark difference in the greens of the trees and the lighter browns and grays of the rocky ridges were somehow calming. I could almost smell the green of the trees the colors were so vibrant. When I considered how I’d been nervous about camping in the mountains, I was surprised how in tune with my surroundings I felt. Growing up I’d been surrounded by mountains in Washington State. I was used to seeing them from a distance but had never spent any real time in them. Now that I was in the heart of the mountains, a pleasant, calm seemed to encircle me. It was peaceful out here, even peaceful in the town of Trails End. It was nothing like the hustle and bustle of the city I loved. I could see the appeal now, minus the bugs, and could well imagine if I felt this way after two days in Trails End, those who called her home would fight Donald tooth and nail to preserve their way of life. After discussing at length what Donald was up to with Frank and Lucy, we’d all agreed that the board at SIOZ were oblivious to what he was doing. Good relationships with the communities where we conducted our research, in addition to finding ways for nature and man to coexist, were of key importance to SIOZ and the cornerstone of their mission statement. Now Donald was undermining that fragile balance.

The regret I had for my brief relationship with Donald had now turned into a sour pit in my stomach. God, I was an idiot. I knew he was single-minded, but this was off the charts. You can’t protect a species at the cost of a community. SIOZ’s stance when a species is in danger of extinction is to work with the community, educate them to ensure the species survival, not destroy the lives of its people. He’d turned into a zealot, the worst kind of activist. I’m a pacifist myself so I don’t condone violence, but I understood Max’s anger towards Donald and was secretly glad he’d punched the jerk. When I’d heard Maxine shout Max’s name, then turned just in time to see his fist connect with Donald’s face, I won’t lie, it was hot, beyond hot, seeing all that male testosterone in action. And when he looked at my wrist, his jaw tightening in anger, pissed off on my behalf, let’s just say I’d wanted to climb up his body and have his children. The whole thing was very caveman-esque. In fact, just thinking about it now makes my heart beat a little faster. Never in my life had I met a man who acted, well, like a man. Apparently, I’ve been surrounded by she-men all this time and the whole experience was rather eye opening, if not a little life altering if I was honest. Where do men like that come from and where have they been hiding all my life? The Jeep came to a stop, breaking me from my thoughts of muscled cavemen. Looking around, I saw a rushing river to the west that butted-up to the mountain range. The waters in the river were churning as white foam floated across its surface, passing over rocks and fallen trees. Farther up the river, I could see where Hunter Logging had gigantic logs stored in a shallow cove to keep them moist to avoid cracking and splitting. The forest was quiet since all the loggers were still in town at the Founder ’s Day celebration. Though I doubted there would be much celebrating, now that Donald had revealed his plan. I could still see in my mind’s eye Max’s face when he’d listened to Donald talk about shutting down his father ’s company. The anger and hatred his eyes had held. He’d transformed from the flirting man near the lake to a man who looked like he could kill, and I had no doubt others were feeling the same. When one of the doors opened and slammed shut, I got out and proceeded to help unload the equipment for the hike up to base camp. Looking up the incline, I said a silent prayer for agility. Either I’d make it to the top or I wouldn’t. Only time would tell. However, I wouldn’t hold my breath. The way my trip had gone thus far, I figured I was toast. “We could kill him,” Curly Potter, the towns bush pilot shouted. Max closed his eyes, praying to God for deliverance as tempers boiled over much like his own had when he heard the news. In the time it had taken him to calm down, Mayor Madison had called an emergency meeting with the town council to discuss Zimmer pushing to have Grizzly Pointe area reclassified as a national forest “That can be plan B,” Martha Tallchief, the town’s postmaster and head gossip, shouted. But a part of him thought she meant it. Martha was in her sixties and had lived in Trails End her whole life like everyone else sitting in the room. Mayor Madison, a descendant of Guy Madison, the first Mayor of Trails End, was leading the discussion in the only diner the town had. It was empty except for the town council because everyone else was at the Founder ’s Day celebration. Word had spread fast about Zimmer ’s oath to have Hunter Logging shut down and the mood of the town shifted from levity to one of gravity quickly. Madison, who’d been standing silently while Max tried to intimidate Zimmer, had followed Max after he left with his mother. When he’d punched

Zimmer, Madison had lectured him about cool heads in a time of crisis. Madison may have been right, but Max wasn’t the type of man to stand by and watch a woman manhandled, especially a woman like Mia who was clumsy and, in his opinion, needed a man to protect her. When Ralph Potter, owner of Last Call Bar and Grill, seconded Curly’s motion to have Zimmer killed, Max stood up and barked, “No one’s killing that sonofabitch. He has one congressman on his side, we just have to make sure we have more. It takes years to get a bill pushed through so no one needs to fuckin’ panic just yet.” “And if we don’t get the votes on our side?” Ralph asked Max. “Then we string him up by his entrails,” Martha hollered. The diner erupted in nervous laughter as Madison tried to bring order to the room. This was getting them nowhere, Max thought, so he turned to leave before he lost his temper again. Maxine put her hand to Max’s arm when he turned to leave so he looked down and saw the concern on her face. Seeing that about killed him, his mother was as tough as nails and gave him a headache daily, but he’d do anything for that old woman who his father had adored. Hunter logging was all they had left of his father, a big, strong man who’d swept her off her feet and told her he was gonna marry her. His mother, a transplant from Gunnison, Colorado, had laughed when he’d told her that. He’d been ten years her senior when they’d met one summer in Colorado, but she’d had it in her head he was too old for her. Not taking no for an answer, his father had won her over easily and he’d whisked her off to Alaska where she bore him one son. Max cupped his mother ’s face and watched as a single tear ran down her cheek. Leaning down, he placed a kiss to her forehead and swore a vow to his father that Hunter Logging would not die on his watch. “I’ll take care of this, Mom, don’t you worry. No one's taken Dad away from you.” Ignoring the room and questioning eyes, Max turned and left the diner—he had a man to find. “You’ll be here all night give me that,” Lucy stated as I struggled to get the one-man tent staked. I looked up, rolled my eyes, and handed her the hammer in disgust. We were in a breathtaking meadow halfway up the ridge on Grizzly Pointe. I’d seen several deer during our climb, which scattered as we hiked up the side of the low-grade mountain. It had taken less time than I thought to get to the meadow where we’d set up base camp for our stay. Now Frank was out scouting for our bears after setting up his own tent and Lucy and I had stayed behind to finish our own and organize supplies. Of course, it was taking me longer than it should to figure out how to pitch this damn tent. My thoughts were still back in Trails End and the havoc Donald was causing with the town, or more accurately, with one brawny resident with moss-green eyes. “So, you and the boss man, huh?” Lucy asked. Sighing, though I should have expected this, I popped my head over the top of the tent and pointed at her. “If you learn anything from me during this trip, learn this, don’t shit where you live, that was the stupidest mistake of my life thus far.” “Got ya, writing that down, though, for clarification purposes only, Trails End isn’t where we live. How about we amend that to read don’t shit where you live except when there are lumberjacks around?” “Oh, my God, you did sleep with Jake.” “Technically, there was no sleeping involved.” “Really?”

“There may have been a nap.” I looked around as if there were actually people listening, then leaned in and asked “And?” “Are you asking me if it was good?” Lucy laughed. “Of course, I am,” I agreed, “he’s a lumberjack for Christ sake. Women who read romance novels dream of men like that.” “Wait, I thought you and Max—” “I didn’t sleep with him,” I interrupted, “I barely remember last night. Apparently, I stripped in front of him and called him a grizzly bear.” Lucy choked on a laugh. “Don’t laugh,” I warned when she threw her hand over her mouth. “You‘ve seen him, he’s, he’s, well, he’s Thor in flannel,” I explained and then admitted “I’m awkward with men, Lucy, I always have been. There is no way I could relax enough around that man to sleep with him.” “Then I need your purse.” “My purse, why?” “Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you standing there telling me you had that man in your room and you didn’t sleep with him. And furthermore, even if you could, you’d be too, insecure, embarrassed, is that what you’re saying?” “Um, yeah, that’s what I’m saying.” “Then hand me your purse.” “I don’t get?” “’I just appointed myself the president of the local charter for the sisterhood and I just voted to revoke your card.” “Seriously, just for being uncomfortable around Max and not throwing myself at him?” “Jesus, Mia, a man like Max, who looks like that . . . a two-year-old would vote you out.” “Great, fine, I’m an idiot, but I plead drunk as my defense Madam President. Besides, I didn’t come here to get laid I came here to work,” I groused. “Somethin’ tells me you should do a little more of the first and less of the last,” she mumbled. “I’ve done the first,” I defended, “on occasion, but those were—” “Spineless hippies who try to shut down towns?” “Right, thanks for reminding me. Can we move on from my pathetic love life and get this tent up? The sooner we get started, the sooner we can leave the bugs behind.” “Hey, if we get our work done early can we stay a few days and enjoy the locals?” Lucy asked, wiggling her eyebrow, looking hopeful as I moved to the opposite side of the tent. “It’s not my call, but I’m pretty sure with the hornet’s nest Donald stirred up SIOZ will pull us out as soon as we’re done.” “I bet you could get Dr. Zimmer to back down if you slept with him. Maybe if you showed him some of your "Joel" moves he'd reconsider." “Hmm, tempting, but no.” “If you sleep with me, I promise not to sign the petition,” Frank whispered in my ear. “Jesus, Frank, make some noise when you walk up,” I snapped, “I’m not sleeping with anyone, least of all you, Mr. Happily Married.” “Killjoy,” he sighed dramatically. “Can we move on to a new topic? Tell me you found our bears.” “Saw fresh signs so we should be good. What’s left on our to-do list? Food, lanterns?” “SHIT . . . shit, shit, shit,” I shouted. “With everything that happened, I forgot the kerosene for the

lanterns.” “Ouch, unlucky break for you, Mia. First rule of camping: Whoever forgets it has to go back down and get it,” Frank explained tossing me the keys to the Jeep. “You’d make a clumsy woman like me walk down that hill all alone?” I asked incredulously with just a hint of whine thrown in for good measure. “Nice try, but I wouldn’t want you to lose your “sister card” for not proving you’re as capable as a man.” “Shit, that whiny voice usually works,” I whined with emphasis. Dammit, I don’t want to run into Donald. “Fair warning,” I announced. “If I see Zimmer when I’m down below be ready to post my bail. If he touches me again, I’ll use the sharp end of an axe on his balls.” Though the views this time of year were spectacular Donald, whose jaw was still aching, didn’t see autumn’s glorious color as stiff leaves fell gracefully to the ground. He was too busy gloating at the panic he’d caused. After Hunter had punched him, a sucker punch in his opinion, he’d stood back and watched with great interest as the Mayor grabbed the whole town council and herded them to the local diner. While they’d had their “emergency” meeting, he’d had one of his own. One that would ensure his plan to close down Hunter would go off without a hitch. Then he’d hung around the Founders Day celebrations waiting to see what would happen next. He’d heard the buzz in the crowd about his plan to close down Hunter Logging. Heard people conversing about what they would do or where they would go if jobs left Trails End. He knew he should have felt some sort of remorse for the people who lived here, but for the life of him, he just didn’t care. They should have thought more about the impact their logging had on the surrounding wildlife. Since they didn’t and the bears couldn’t defend themselves, he would. By the time the impromptu meeting adjourned and he’d watched Hunter ’s mother and others try to calm everyones fears, he had to admit, he felt a bit like a God holding their futures in his hand. He could crush these people and their butchering of the land with fifty thousand signatures, and the crowning achievement in all of this, watching that smug bastard Max Hunter brought to his knees. Five years he’s watched Hunter pillage the forest, scaring his bears. He didn’t care if he planted fast growing trees to replace the ones he and his forefathers had stolen, their presence in the forest was upsetting the natural balance of the area—upsetting his bears. Hunter was already coming unraveled, Donald thought. The way he’d charged him and manhandled him like some barbarian was all an added bonus to help him shut that bastard down. Now he had witnesses, in the form of Lucy Daniels and Frank Jessup, to the unreasonable behavior of the town’s golden boy, the King of Hunter Logging. All these years he’d watched that man (who was nothing but a criminal against nature in his eyes) treated like some sort of Prince. He pillaged the land, stripped trees off the mountain and they worship him for it. He couldn’t wait to bring Hunter to his knees, if not for the bears and the trees, then for touching Mia. When he’d seen Hunter carry Mia into her room, it was all he could do to keep from breaking down the door. Mia was his, Donald thought. She just needed time to see that. But, Hunter, with his good looks and bulging biceps could put a snag in his plans to convince her to take another chance. He’d tricked Mia into coming on this trip so he could spend time with her. He needed her in an environment he could control so she couldn’t avoid him at every turn. Sleeping in close quarters, with the moon setting the mood each night, he figured by the end of the trip she’d change her tune and give him a second chance. However, with Hunter in the picture, and his overreaction to Donald detaining

Mia suggested that he was, he’d have to work fast. Pulling onto the access road that would take him up the mountain and to their base camp, he did a double take when he saw Mia pass by heading back into town. No one else seemed to be in the Jeep, so his jealousy spiked thinking she might be ignoring the bears for Hunter. Making a U-turn, he headed back into town right behind her. When she pulled into the only gas station, the town had, he pulled in behind her and got out heading towards her Jeep. Ripping open her door, she looked surprised to see him, but that surprise didn’t last long as her face pinched in anger, a lovely shade of rage tinting her skin. “Save it, I don’t want to hear a word you have to say,” Mia hissed as she climbed out of her vehicle and then headed to the back. Before she opened the back hatch, she wheeled around and pointed at Donald leaning in, “If you touch me again, I swear I’ll take an axe to your head.” The gas station attendant had walked out during this exchange and was now listening, keeping an eye on the situation. So, he lowered his voice and bit out “Cut the crap Mia, I wouldn’t have hurt you if you hadn’t tried to pull away.” “You cut the crap, Donald. I can’t believe you went behind SIOZ’s back,” she shouted back. “One night with Hunter and you’re already forgetting your priorities. Did you or did you not sign on to protect the bears?” She rolled her eyes as she opened the hatch, pulling out a gas can and moving towards a kerosene pump. When they reached it, she grabbed the nozzle, shoved it in the can, then turned on him and bit out, “Our priorities do not include putting people out of their homes. We work with the community and educate them to live in harmony with nature, not kill a town putting its people on the streets. Jesus, Donald, what were you thinking?” Mia yelled him. “Calm down, I’ll explain everything when we get up the mountain.” “Oh, no, if you’re going up the mountain, then I’m going home. Newsflash, Dickhead, not only am I opposed to what you’re doing, I’ll fight you tooth and nail to make sure you don’t succeed.” “So, one night in bed with that mindless Neanderthal has you overlooking your commitment to the bears?” He snapped. “God, you’re such a man, you think everything revolves around your dick.” “Just admit you’re only having a fit because you slept with him.” “I’m having a fit because you’re an asshole.” “Admit you slept with him,” he roared and then took a step towards her. Mia jerked back a step when he shouted, unease settling in her gut. However, she’d had enough of his power play, enough of his jealousy, and decided to go for the throat. “I’ll admit that one night with that man would likely make any woman forget her life’s calling, get the picture?” Seething, feeling sick to his stomach hearing her confirm she’d slept with Hunter. He took some comfort in knowing her outburst served a higher purpose other than crushing his hopes of a reconciliation. Now he had another witness, the gas station attendant, to confirm she would do anything for Hunter. If she caused him trouble, and he knew she would, he had an ace in the hole to use against her with the board. However, right this minute, he had other problems to deal with. Hunter had pulled into the adjacent parking lot and was currently making his way towards them while they argued. He’d had to push Mia to get her to answer before Hunter reached them and the way her voice carried, he’d heard it all and was bearing down on them unbeknownst to her. He may have lost her to this overgrown caveman, but he wasn’t walking away without slinging some mud of his own.

“Well done, Hunter. You managed to get in her pants in one night when it took me three. Tell me, did she make that little mewling sound when she came?” Closing my eyes as Donald spoke I knew without looking what I’d find behind me. I should have punched Donald myself for his childish behavior, but I was too busy thinking about hopping the next flight out of Trails End to care. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? “You slept with this ass-wipe?” Max clipped in my ear. Panicked about what he might have heard and praying to God the next flight left in five minutes, I whipped around to explain but caught my toe on the concrete. Then, because God hated me, I slammed into his chest as I stumbled forward. Max had caught me before I slid to the ground so I opened my mouth and babbled like an idiot. “I plead insanity to whatever you just heard. In fact, just forget all about it and I’ll be on my way. Does Curly work on Saturdays?” “He has dreadlocks for Christ sake,” Max growled ignoring me. I thought that was an odd reply so I defended my stupid actions. “What does his hairstyle matter? You wear flannel; you don’t see me judging you for wearing flannel.” “He looks like a hippie.” “And you look like a lumberjack what’s your point?” Max’s brows shot up and he looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Then he bit out, “Jesus, please tell me you don’t sit up on that mountain smokin’ pot and singing Kumbaya.” “How should I know, I’ve never camped before in my life. If they do, they won’t pass their drug test at work.” His jaw tightened for an instant, then he sighed in exasperation, what he did not do was let go of me much to my relief and horror. “Did I hear you say you’d go to bat for this town?” “Of course, I don’t agree with what he’s doing,” I answered as I tried to back out of his arms, but he tightened his hold when I pushed back. I couldn’t believe my luck. All I wanted to do was get in and out of town unnoticed, but, no, hell no, I managed to find both objects of my fantasies. One I fantasized about killing and the other, for lack of a better visual, I fantasized about licking from head to toe. “I thought SIOZ was behind this?” Max inquired breaking me from my thoughts of Wet Max and dripping water. “NO! SIOZ would never support a position that shuts down a town to save a species. Why would you think that?” “They may not agree, but that won’t stop me from doing what needs to be done, you can count on that, Hunter,” Donald interrupted. On that threat, Max let go, moving me to his side and slightly behind him, putting his large frame between Donald and me. “You know when a man throws around threats in my home, he’s no longer welcome. I suggest you take your agenda to close down this town and get the fuck outta here. You’ve worn out your welcome.” “Are you gonna beat me into leaving?” Donald bit out. “Nope, not unless you lay another hand on Mia.” “I didn’t “lay” a hand on her in the first place, she overreacted.”

Overreacted? I don’t think so. Pissed off, I tried to move around Max but he stopped me with his large arm, pushing me further behind him. “I got a dozen witnesses who say otherwise. In this town, we don’t tolerate women bein’ manhandled. If you don’t leave, I’ll call Chester and have him remove you by way of jail.” “You’re bluffing.” “Learn this quickly, I don’t bluff. You get your ass out of my town by tomorrow or Mia will be filing a report,” Max growled. “I’m here to collect research on public land. You can’t stop me from doing my job,” Donald answered arrogantly. “Not anymore, leave or go to jail, your choice.” Then the battle of wills began for about a nanosecond. One was large and very, very pissed and the other was a piss-ant who recognized quickly he needed to leave, so he left. God, I can’t believe I slept with that piss-ant. “I’ve decided I’m being punished for some past-life transgression,” I mumbled as I watched Donald drive away. “Past what—you know what, never mind. I’ve lived around my mother long enough to know better. You gonna be all right with that asshole till he leaves?” “You should be asking him that, not me. I’m so pissed right now I could kill him for you.” Max chuckled as a crooked grin tugged at his mouth. Then he reached up and tugged my ponytail as the grin spread to a dazzling smile. Caught off guard by the somewhat flirty move and blinding smile, I lost myself in his eyes as he stared back at me. “You want this tank in the back of your Jeep,” Max finally asked. “Please,” was all I croaked out since my center of gravity seemed unsteady. When he took the Kerosene to my Jeep, I watched him as I tried to gain my bearings. But the visual of him in those Wranglers wasn’t helping. Gah, that man had an ass. After I had paid for my purchase, Max helped me into my Jeep, then leaned against the door as I started my engine. “Thanks for defending me, Max. That’s twice today, you’ve come to my rescue.” “Least I could do since I made you forget your life’s calling.” “Shit, you heard that?” I whined. “Uptown girl, half the town heard that, your voice carries,” Max grinned. “Of course, they did,” I sighed, “could you point me to the nearest mountain so I can throw myself off?” “Which part?” he asked oddly. “Which part?” “Which part of last night was life changing?” “I remember your boots.” Grinning, he leaned in closer and asked, “You don’t remember kissin’ me?” Whispering now, I replied, “I didn’t kiss you.” “You sure about that?” “No.” “You get tired of hangin’ out with bears and singin’ around a campfire, come down I’ll buy you drink. Maybe then, you’ll remember kissin’ me.”

I dipped my head for a moment because he unnerved me, made my heart race, and generally made me an idiot in his presence. When I didn’t answer, his grin grew wider at my discomfort so, of course, color rose in my cheeks. Then he winked, tugged my ponytail, and headed back towards his truck. Shit, definitely time to employ operation “Evade and Hide” . . . right after I watch his retreating backside. Dressed in a blue and black flannel shirt with tight Wranglers and work boots, I decided right then and there that I loved flannel. In fact, I would never look at flannel the same way again, or Wranglers. I’d definitely been missing out on Wrangler clad asses. The drive back took no time and I cursed up a storm when I saw Donald’s vehicle parked at the entrance. He’d better keep his distance when I got back or I’d feed him to the bears. The climb up the ridge was much slower with the heavy kerosene. I was in shape, thanks to my home gym, but dead weight was dead weight, I had to stop every few minutes and rest. It was darker on the path this time around, the sun was lower and the shadows felt darker more ominous. When I was halfway up, I had to pee, so I looked for a bush to hide behind. As I scanned the forest, my eyes caught on what looked like someone lying on the path further up. Squinting, I moved closer as the shapes of arms and legs became clearer. Assuming someone was hurt, I ran the rest of the way up until I recognized it was Donald. “Are you hurt?” I shouted, but the blood on the ground had my heart racing in fear. When he didn’t answer, I kneeled down beside him and with a shaking hand, rolled him face up. Nothing in my life had prepared me for that moment. You think in the face of something as horrific as a violent death that you’ll shut down, become immobile. The truth is, you become hyper-alert. “Oh, God, oh, God, HELP ME!” I shrieked when I saw his face. In the center of his forehead was a large gaping wound that penetrated into his brain. His eyes were open with a blankness to them, his mouth relaxed, his lips blue. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” I chanted searching the forest for help. Then cold fear weaved its way up my spine, shutting down all my senses but one, my hearing. When a twig snapped behind me, my breath caught and I listened. The faint sound of deep breaths being pulled quietly into lungs told me I wasn’t alone. Afraid to turn and face the killer my fight or flight instinct kicked in. Without thinking, I bolted west off the path as the sound of someone in pursuit froze my blood. Panicked, I hadn’t paid attention to my surroundings as I ducked limbs and pushed through foliage so thick it cut my arms. Then the hair on my neck rose suddenly and I knew the killer was a whispered breath away. So, I flew under a limb and broke through some bushes into the bright sun from the forest darkness, screaming for my life. Fear kept my legs moving when I should have stopped, but I kept running into the blinding light, kept right on running off the edge—to the rushing river below.  

Five Yo u hav e a b ear o n y o ur 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.”

Six Co ck - o - l ate

Day three in Trails End started out like day two, well, not exactly the same. I was hungover, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t start the day with cock-o-late on a stick. Right now, standing in Maxine’s kitchen, the sun was up, the birds were singing, and I was holding a chocolate penis on a stick. As I stared at the hardened chocolate, Frank emerged in the kitchen. He grabbed a cup from the table, filled it with coffee, then walked to the counter, picked up one of the candy creations and took a bite. “First time I’ve ever had a dick in my mouth,” he replied around a mouthful of chocolate. “I’d say that’s too much information, but I don’t have the brain cells left to care.” “Wild party,” he chuckled. “Who knew sweet ole ladies were so—” “Horny?” “Dedicated to orgasms.” Last night, after Max showed up and invited us back to his mother ’s, we all piled into the Jeep and followed him to her house. It was a log cabin style home with a large deck supporting an A-line gable with chunky trusses at the front and a green-metal roof. She has three bedrooms, of which she was only using one, so she put Lucy and me in one and Frank in the other. Max hadn’t stayed long, much to my relief and disappointment. He said he had men to round up and a dog to feed, so he’d left after we arrived and settled. Maxine’s home was your typical Alaskan home with log furniture and animal-skin rugs in each room. There was a deck off the back with a hot tub that I’d eyed almost instantly after arriving, and I cursed myself for not bring a bathing suit. Her kitchen was at the back of the house overlooking the deck, and she’d done it in black granite and stainless steel. It had a wraparound counter that looked into a great room and a big pine table that she’d set to feed us. She’d made a pot roast for dinner and we’d all gathered to eat when her doorbell rang. That’s when the evening got crazy. Martha Tallchief, Trails End postmaster and from what I could tell the town gossip, had stopped by to drop off supplies for the party. Apparently, they were having a party at Maxine’s house tonight and they’d wanted to get a head start on the refreshments a day early. Martha, unlike Maxine, was a stout woman with short gray hair of Native American heritage and she dressed like most of the men in town. Meaning, she had on flannel, jeans, and boots. Maxine, on the other hand, was slim, dressed casual, but feminine in a cream colored sweater and jeans and she wore her long, beautiful gray hair braided down her back. They were what I’d call the “Lucy and Ethel” of the seniors in Trails End and by the end of the night Lucy, Frank, and I was in stitches. See, this wasn’t any old party they were having; it wasn’t Tupperware or Mary Kay. No, Maxine and Martha were in business together supplying adult toys to anyone in Trails End that wanted them. Passion consultants was the term they used and once a month they invited, by invitation only, friends to sell, demonstrate, or replace any of the three hundred products that their company sold. Now, as you can imagine, Lucy and I were on-board with hearing about their latest products. Frank, not so much. He’d retired to the great room with a “See ya,” while Maxine pulled out her catalog for Lucy and me to peruse. Then the blender came out, the margaritas were mixed and the melting of chocolate for the cock-o-

lates on a stick began. Four hours and five margaritas later I was drunk, and I can now check “hot-tubing in the nude” off on my list of things to do before I die. I can also check off “caught by hunky lumberjack while in the hot tub naked,” too. Imagine it, a starry night, the wind blowing, and me in the hot tub soaking my sore muscles from my fall into the river. The moon was brilliant and glowing as I laid my head against the side, staring at the bright globe. The stars were twinkling and at that moment, all was right in my world. Then, out of now where, a large dog, wolf-like in appearance, bound into the hot tub with me. He nailed me in the face with his tongue while I tried in earnest to push him back. That’s when I heard a rumbling voice bark, “Muttley.” I turned my head, saw Max leaning in the doorway, and grabbed the dog to cover myself. “Turn around,” I hissed. “And miss this? No way.” “This isn’t funny,” I whined. “It is from where I’m standing’,’’ he grinned, then grabbed my towel from the chair and walked over to the hot tub. “Out before you catch cold.” I glared at him, but he just stood there with the towel open, waiting. “Fine, but close your eyes.” “Think we’ve already established the fact I’m not a gentleman,” he answered without shame as the dog broke from my grip, leaving me with no cover. Crossing my arms to cover my breasts, because clearly I thought that would hide them (copious amounts of alcohol give you super powers), Max’s lip twitched at my move then he took a long slow look. His eyes heated and I felt my cheeks warm as stared me down. Now what? The longer I sat there, the longer he could get his fill of my naked body. And considering his mother sold sex toys for a living, I didn’t think she would be much help if I called out to her. Hmm, stay curled up trying to cover all my bits and pieces or bite-the-bullet and just get it over with. I’ll remind you, I was a tad drunk and not in my right mind, so that being said, I figured what the hell. I got up, stepped out, and stood there as he wrapped a towel around me. “You know, if you were my woman I’d be pissed you were out here naked while another man was in the house,” he announced as he grabbed another towel and started drying my arms. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not. Besides, he went to bed an hour ago,” I explained as he moved to my hair, roughing it up with a towel. “Yeah, good thing,” he mumbled deep. His proximity clouded my judgment, washed away my earlier warnings to keep my distance. At that moment, I wasn’t clumsy Mia awkward with men, but a woman with needs and Max felt like a man who could meet them. Max stepped closer and his movements slowed as he stared back at me, his eyes dropping to my mouth. Then his nose flared and his jaw tightened, as he seemed to battle an inner war. On a sharp inhale of breath, Max hooked the towel around my back and yanked me forward, my arms trapped against his hard chest. With nothing but a towel between us, I could feel his erection against my stomach and I stilled my breath in aroused surprise. “This is a bad idea, Max,” I whispered, my self-preservation kicking in suddenly.

“Worst idea I’ve ever had but right now I don’t give a fuck.” His growled reply was like an aphrodisiac. Something about the way he growled when he was mad called out to me, so I pulled my arms free, tangled my hands in his longish hair, and got up on my toes, our lips a hair ’s breadth away. “A man could drown in those crystal pools,” Max whispered as he looked into my eyes. Hearing that, my body shuddered against his as I waited for his mouth to kiss me. He felt it, muttered “Fuck,” and decided it was time to give me what I’d avoided all day, his mouth. Done playing around, Max dropped the towel, tangled a hand in my hair, the other cupping my face while he lowered his head slowly. His eyes locked with mine as he leaned in and whispered, “You scared of me?’’ Oh, yeah, I was terrified of him. Fortunately or, unfortunately, depending on my state of mind, the kiss never got underway because his mother took that moment to flip on the outside light. She chuckled “Whoops,” as Max turned his head and I sobered up long enough to push out of his arms. Then I fell. Max shouted, “Watch out,” when I stumbled sideways over his dog, dropping my towel in process mooning him, his mother, and all of Alaska. I took this as a sign I shouldn’t let Max near my lips and bolted off the deck, towel in hand, crying out, “Excuse me while I kill myself now.” Now, standing in Maxine’s kitchen, head pounding, staring at different varieties of cock-o-lates on a stick, I was trying to figure out how to get out of town without ever laying eyes on Max again. “I’ll give her this much,” Frank mumbled again, “she can make a mean chocolate cock.” That she could! Some had fuzzy balls, topped with coconut and nuts. Some were white chocolate with macadamia nuts that we’d dubbed spotted dick. My favorite was the dark chocolate ones. I have a weakness for the bittersweet flavor, so much so, last night I had my first ever dark cock-o-late penis shaped sucker. They were delicious and hysterical. As you can imagine, with all that alcohol in our system, Lucy and I were not only drunk, but we were punch-drunk with laughter and decided to have a deep throat contest. I won if you can believe it. Frank, after two margaritas, finally decided to join us, but the poor man came in during our competition. He stood there open-mouthed a little dazed, actually, and then mumbled he needed to call his wife. Still standing at the counter taking in the works of chocolate art, I turned when I heard Maxine, call out, “Phone call, Mia.” Surprised, I took her phone, put it to my ear, and said, “Hello? “Chief Stetson here, I need you and your co-workers to come into the station so we can get your written account of yesterday’s events.” “Have you searched the ridge yet? Can we go back up and finish our work?” “The ridge hasn’t been cleared yet, it’s gonna take a couple of more days. But with the three of you considered suspects, I’m keeping the area closed till we can sort this out.” “All three of us are?” “You all had the means and the motive and we haven’t had a murder in this town in thirty years, Ms. Roberts. You and your team came in three days ago and now I have a dead man on my hands, so, yeah, you’re all suspects.” “I hope you realize you’re going to screw up five years of research keeping us detained like this. I can assure you no one on my team killed Donald. You need to look at your residents for answers,

Chief. You’re wasting taxpayer ’s money on the three of us,” I snapped and then hung up the phone. God this was such a fucked up situation. “Good news, I’m not the only suspect in Donald’s death,” I told Frank as I entered the kitchen. “Oh yeah, did they decide to make Max an accessory?” “What? No, why would you say that?” “Just the rumor running through town. Martha said some people think Max is covering for you because he fell in love the minute he heard you sing. Then he punched Donald after he manhandled you and then threatened him. After that, you, Max, and Donald were at a gas station together right before he died. It all fits,” he shrugged. “Oh, for god sakes, it fits if you’re crazy enough to believe in fairy tales. As hard as it may be for you to believe, I did not bludgeon Donald with an axe, then jump off the ridge in an attempt to meet my accomplice.” “Just tellin’ ya the rumors, I didn’t say I believed them,” he laughed. “If you like that fiction, then you’ll love this. All three of us have to go down to the station and give written accounts of our day. We, as in you, me, and Lucy are now the prime suspects.” “Cool,” he strangely replied. “Why aren’t you upset?” “ ‘Cause I know I didn’t do it, nor did Lucy for that matter. We were together the whole time. As for you my dear colleague, you’re too, what’s the word, “girlie” to pick up an axe and whack him in the head.” “I can get dirty if I have to,” I lied. “Sorry, darlin’, but there’s no way you killed anyone. You’re more likely to fall on that axe and kill yourself,” he explained and then patted my shoulder as he headed towards the great room. I probably would kill myself, dammit. God, this whole situation sucked. I knew I should be worried about being a suspect, but I had bigger problems to figure out. Right now, my biggest issue was figuring out how to get back on Grizzly Pointe so we don’t lose five years of research. How does a person get on a mountain without hiking in? A vision of me jumping from a plane with a parachute strapped to my back made me shudder and then it hit me. “Hey, Frank! Do you think Curly could land his plane on the clearing at Grizzly Pointe?” “Probably, those planes are made for quick takeoffs and landings, why?” “I’ve got an idea.” “Curly?” I shouted as I pounded on his cabin door. His cabin looked small, maybe a room or two, like those old settlers cabins you see with single gables and a fireplace on the side. The whole cabin was in disrepair, weeds filled the flower gardens out front, as old tires, and airplane parts were decaying in the sun. His cabin was set in a cove on Crystal Lake a few miles outside of town. Secluded. Peaceful. Maxine had given me directions to his cabin and I was determined to make a deal with the old man. Fly us up to Grizzly Pointe each day and then pick us up and fly us back down. I figured if we offered him enough money to keep quiet that no one would be the wiser. That way the chief could investigate Donald’s murder while assuming we were biding our time at Maxine’s house. Then, when he finally got it through his thick skull none of us was the killer, we could get the hell out of Dodge with our research complete. Now I just had to find the old man. “His truck and plane are here, maybe he’s around back,” I mumbled to myself.

Jumping off the porch, I headed towards his back yard. Half way around I looked towards his plane and saw what looked like a foot sticking out of the reeds near the bank. Squinting, I stopped and then changed directions heading towards the bank. Five feet from the shoe, a leg appeared and I picked up my pace. When I reached the banks edge and looked down, I could see him lying in the shallows his eyes lifeless, mouth opened in surprise and an axe buried in his head. “This isn’t happening,” I mumbled in shock, eyes glued to his forehead. The hair on the back of my neck raised, so I whipped around and looked around the yard. Was the killer still here? Was he watching me now? Hands shaking, I pulled my cell from my pocket as I kept my eyes on the forest behind his house. I was too afraid to move, at least with the lake behind me, I could dive in if someone came at me. Before dialing 911, I saw the number Max had given me the night before, for emergencies, and I hesitated. I knew I should call the police first, but even knowing that, my finger seemed to think otherwise. Swiping call, when I heard a man shout down the line “Max is up a tree, unless it’s an emergency, you’ll have to leave a message,” I started to cry. “I can’t believe you’re arresting me,” Mia shouted as Stetson shoved her in the back of his squad car. Seeing that, Max jumped out of his truck as his temper spiked. He’d been up a tree when one of his men hollered at him that a frantic female was on the phone. Something told him it was Mia and he’d climbed down quickly. When he’d heard her voice, the panic in it, and her broken breath as if she’d been crying, he’d jumped into his truck. Then he’d asked her what the fuck she was thinking going out alone. Reminded her the killer had already tried to get at her once as she tried to defend her actions. As he listened to her, he felt his anger shift to worry when he realized she was alone, miles from town. Needing her attention, he’d shouted at her, interrupting her rant, “Call nine-one-one right fuckin’ now” and then hung up and headed straight to Curly’s. From his location, it took him thirty minutes to get down the mountain and around to the other side of the lake. Now he was about to get arrested for assault if Stetson didn’t back down. “Stetson, you wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’?” he shouted as he made his way towards the chief. Stetson turned and narrowed his eyes at Max, and Mia started shouting from inside the car, “I didn’t kill anyone you big doofus.” Max would have laughed if he hadn’t been so fucking pissed at that moment. He’d have thought finding Zimmer ’s body would have kept her at his mother ’s and out of trouble. If she’d stayed put, instead of coming out here alone, she wouldn’t be in this mess. However, he was learning quickly that just like his mother, Mia tended to act before she thought things through. When he reached Stetson, the man turned, crossed his arms, and then ordered, “This is a crime scene, Hunter. Get back in your truck and leave.” “I asked you what the fuck you were doin.’” he stated, pinning the chief with his eyes. “Arresting Ms. Roberts on suspicion of murder, now get back in your-” “Jesus, you think this woman has the strength to kill Curly?” “I’ve got two bodies, both with one thing in common. You do the math. I’m not going to ignore the possibility she’s a killer because of her size,” Stetson argued. Patience gone, Max bit out “And I’m not gonna ignore a police chief that harasses a defenseless woman. Consider your contract with the town of Trails End under review.” Stetson’s face turned red as he moved closer to Max. Staring Max down for a moment his expression turned cocky as he threatened, “Maybe I should look into your whereabouts this morning, Hunter.”

Done with this sonofabitch Max leaned down, got right in his face, and seethed “Fuck with me and you’ll lose, you hear me? You’re a contracted employee who I don’t much like. Unless you’ve got her prints on both axes that killed Zimmer and Potter, and I’d wager my entire business that you don’t, you let her go right fuckin’ now.” Stetson’s jaw tightened as he considered his options. Then, much to Max’s satisfaction, his eyes popped to Officer Chester Tallchief, one of Max’s good friends, and ordered, “Let her go.” Chester opened the door and pulled Mia out while Max kept his eyes trained on Stetson. When the cuffs were gone, she turned to Max and shouted, “I am not a defenseless woman. I’m clumsy, there’s a difference.” She was dressed in jeans and a “Muttley Crew” T-shirt depicting the dog from the cartoon “Whacky Races.” Max didn’t know whether to laugh since it was his dog's name on her chest or put her over his knee. He went with pissed. “Get your ass in the Jeep and head back to my mother ’s.” “Why? Am I under house arrest?” she questioned and then looked at Stetson. “Yeah, “he lied before the chief could respond. “I am so calling my lawyer when I get back,” she snapped and then stomped towards Max. “As for you, I’ve decided you’re no longer Thor, God of Thunder, you’re more like Loki. He’s gorgeous and makes you think he’s a good guy, but underneath he’s just mean. He’d yell at a crying woman too. Thor, unlike you, would have been sympathetic,” she declared. Then she whipped around, stomping her tiny feet and swinging that tight ass of hers as Max watched, his lips twitching the whole time. She made her way to the Jeep and got in, gunning the engine and kicking up gravel as she left. Max watched her leave, shaking his head in disbelief. Jesus, she got cuter by the minute, Max thought. He knew then, after last night and his reaction to her being in danger, he had a phone call to make to Annie. Casual or not, he respected Annie enough to end things with her as if they weren’t casual. “You really think after that performance, she killed anyone?” Max asked Stetson as he turned back to the chief. “Could be an act,” he argued. “Christ, for an officer of the law you’ve got shit instincts, Duke. The only thing that woman is capable of is bringing a man to his knees.”

Seven Ho w to mak e a man l o se his mind

“That jackass Stetson wouldn’t know a killer if one hit him between the eyes,” Martha commented. I’d made my way back to Maxine’s, not that I was following Max’s orders mind you, it just seemed like the safest place to be. I’d just informed Lucy, Frank, Martha and Maxine of Curly’s demise, and my subsequent five minutes in the back of a police car. After the initial shock had worn off, Maxine got up, pulled out five beers, and put them on the table. We each grabbed one as Maxine raised hers and said “To Curly, the kindest man this side of the tundra.” We all clinked our bottles together and drank deep remembering the man. Then the “who would kill Curly’s” began. Our conclusion, based on the fact the murders were the same, he must have seen something he shouldn’t and was killed to keep him quiet. We sat in silence, each one of us reflecting I supposed on the loss of life the past two days, and in my case, who the hell was doing it. “Where do we go from here?” Lucy asked, “If we keep pushing to go back up the mountain, will others die?” “Stetson's sure I'm the killer, he won't look for the real one until he is convinced otherwise. We have a responsibility to this town not to push if it threatens people’s lives.” “Christ, we’ll lose five years of research,” Frank mumbled. “Better to lose the research than anyone else loses their life,” I told him. “If Stetson ain’t gonna pull his head out of his ass, I guess we’ll have to find the killer ourselves,” Martha stated out of the blue. Surprised by her comment, I questioned her sanity. “Are you nuts? We aren’t looking for the killer.” “Not look for the killer, look for evidence. If Stetson doesn't ask around, because he’s convinced it’s you, then I don’t see any harm in us asking. Someone might have seen someone on up Grizzly Pointe yesterday,” Maxine jumped in. “Maxine, whoever this is they’ve killed two people, one an old man. He or she won’t hesitate to kill you or Martha if he finds out you’re asking questions,” I pointed out. “Missy, at my age, I could die in my sleep. I don’t give a rat’s ass about dying, but I do care about this town. If this person keeps on killin’ my friends, you might as well kill me. Stetson isn’t gonna do shit so I’ll do what I can to help get you back on Grizzly Pointe,” Martha vowed. “Count me in, Martha. We can start in the morning,” Maxine told her. Frank and I bugged our eyes out at each other, thinking these old ladies were nuts, but Lucy had a different opinion. She stood suddenly and announced, “I’m in I can knock on doors.” “Lucy, none of you should—” “Count me in too, I’m not about to let you ladies take a risk like this without my muscles for backup,” Frank interrupted and my eyes shot to his. He shrugged, said, “We got nothin’ better to do with our time and I don’t think you can stop them, Mia. Better to tag along and keep them safe than to sit back and worry.” Then all eyes were on me. “Fine, but I highly suggest you don’t tell your son what we’re up too. After the ass-chewing I received today, I’m steering clear of him for the rest of my life.”

“You just gotta know how to handle him. I’ll explain the complexity that is Max while we cook.” “I don’t need to know anything that is Max.” “I’d say last night says otherwise.” “That was the alcohol.” “That was my son. Are you sayin’ you’re not interested?” “I’m sayin’ I’m here to do work and then go home.” “Well, see,” she mumbled. “Okay, now that that’s settled,” Martha chuckled, “we need to get crackin’ on the rest of the refreshments. Who wants to help me make my famous cock n’ balls?” Lucy and I nodded with enthusiasm as Frank stood and announced, “That’s my cue to leave,” as headed towards the great room. “The key to these is to use enough dough that you can make nice big balls on the side. The ladies love bitin’ into them,” Martha chuckled. Just like that, we moved on from the killings and on to, well, sex. I’ll be honest though, the whole time we worked to get the house ready for the party, I expected the police to show and haul me away in handcuffs. In addition, after the lecture I received from Max I expected him to drop by as well. Thankfully, he had a business to run and didn’t have time to follow me home and chew on me again (Note to self: Never call brooding males when you’re in trouble.) The next few hours we rolled, shaped, froze, and decorated for the evening’s festivities. This month’s theme, “Cockzilla,” the strap-on penis to put all other strap-on penises to shame, or is that penes? Anyhow, Martha and Maxine had just received a new shipment and the ladies of Trails End were chomping at the bit to get a hold of one of these bad boys. According to Martha, the ever-growing sixty-plus crowd in town was looking for ways to spice up their sex life. Or in some cases have one. Again, according to Martha, men over a certain age have a hard time getting it up and keeping it up. In addition, if they did “get it up,” they couldn’t keep it there long enough to please their significant others. Therefore, the “Cockzilla” comes in handy.. Once the food was prepared, we set the table with an assortment of gels and edibles that helped enhance your sex life. As we arranged the items, Maxine handed us a box saying it was “Party favors.” Inside were individually boxed vibrators that glowed in the dark. Green Willie’s, made of PVC jelly, had a seven-inch long by one and a quarter inch wide dong, with multi-speed vibration. It was soft, pliable, and easy to use on all parts of your body the packaging said. It took two double-A batteries to operate the vibration and power its magical glow and that it was sure to please even the most discriminating men and women. Again, so the packaging said. “Here,” Maxine mumbled as she pulled two out and handed them to Lucy and me. “They’re easy to find in the dark.” “Thanks,” we both answered. One could say that Lucy and I teetered most of the day between thinking this was the coolest shit we’d ever seen and wanting to laugh. I mean, two women in their late sixties, running a sex toy business was beyond cool, but you had to admit there was an element of humor. In addition, when you threw Max into the mix, with all his rumbling and brooding, the fact his mother sold sex toys ratcheted up the comical to damn near hysterical. That being said, we had to know. “Maxine, I’m curious, what does Max think of your side business?” “He ignores its existence, of course. When his father died ten years ago, I was still in my sexual prime. Kids, especially boys, don’t like to think their mothers are sexual creatures. I wasn’t dead yet

and I knew I’d never remarry, so I looked for quality toys and found them with a company that sold them through home parties. I figured, what the hell, why not sell them. I needed somethin’ to keep me busy now that Tom was gone. Martha was intrigued—her husband gone as well—so she jumped on board and we’ve been the Passion Queens for about eight years now. As for Max, he knows better than to think he can stop me from doing what I want. He just grumbles if it’s brought up and walks away,” she laughed. “What’s Mad Max’s story?” Lucy asked. “Max? He’s just like me. He doesn’t like to admit it, though. He's stubborn, likes to run things, bossy, I guess you could say. Wants what he wants, won’t settle for anything less and as hard a working man as you’ll ever meet. My husband, God bless him, was the opposite. Just as laid-back, as the day was long and rolled with the punches. Max, on the other hand, likes order, control, doesn’t like surprises. I imagine that’s why he’s been so irritable. You blew into town and he’s lost control,” she explained, looking right at me. “His number was in my phone, I didn’t mean to involve him,” I lied, “I dialed him by accident.” “Oh, I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about the fact he’s barking orders at everyone where you’re concerned. He’s never done that before. And seein’ the hold he had you in last night explains his behavior the last few days.” “Hold? Somebody left out some details this morning,” Lucy accused. “It was nothing,” I assured Lucy, “and it won’t happen again. I’m here to do my work and then go back home that’s all.” “We’ll see,” Maxine mumbled, “but I know my son, darlin’ and what Max wants, Max gets, just so you know.” “Not this time,” I mumbled. Maxine’s smile grew and then she patted my arms as she turned to leave the room. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” I somewhat lied. She turned back, grinning, and told me “Even better, Max loves a challenge.” “Oh, she’ll be challenging all right,” Lucy chuckled following Maxine. “Hey, what can you tell me about Jake?” she inquired as they left me standing with a green jelly vibrator and an uneasy feeling. “Swear to God this trip keeps getting weirder and weirder,” I told the room. “Thesaurus,” Frank replied as he passed by, heading towards the kitchen. “What?” “Never mind, if I have to explain it’s not funny. Trust me, it’s funny,” he replied over his shoulder. “Green Willies,” I shouted back. Frank stopped, turned, and asked “What?” I held up my glowing dong and wiggled it. “Definitely funny,” I chuckled and then turned, shoved it in my pack, and headed towards my room. I came to Alaska to do research. Three days later, I was the only suspect in two murders and the proud owner of a Green Willie with three-speed vibration. Yes, I’d say my prediction this trip would be a disaster was coming to fruition. Time to make the phone call I’d been avoiding. I needed to inform my superiors that not only had Donald gone rogue and gotten himself killed for it, more than likely, all our research for the past five years was in jeopardy. At this rate, and the way my luck was going, I figured I’d be jobless by the end of the day. “Oh, God, the peroxide twins are here,” I moaned as Maxine opened her door and let in the bimbos from the bar. So far, every woman I’d met since arriving in Trails End had attended, including the

blonde who seemed on a more than friendly basis with Max. Annie, as Maxine had introduced her, seemed nice enough, but it wasn’t lost on me if she was here and she and Max had a thing, then she was here to stock up for that thing. And that made the almost kiss I had with Max the night before confusing. If he had a relationship with her, then why was he almost kissing me? That didn’t say good things about him and it bothered me more than it should. Lucy and I stayed on the outskirts watching everyone. There were young and old conversing, eating, handling toys, and laughing with each other. Unfortunately, since I’d been the one to find Curly, there were also questions concerning his murder. When the twins caught sight of us, they made a beeline for me while sucking on one of Maxine’s penis suckers. Blonde number one bit into hers when she arrived and peppermint cream spilled out, running down her mouth like, well, you get the picture. “Was Curly killed the same as the hippie?” blonde number two asked upon arrival. “Mmm,” was all I said. “I’m Suzy and this is Joanne by the way. Pete over at the diner said the chief arrested you, but he released you when Max came charging in and threatened the chief. So . . . are you fuckin’ him or what?” “Whoa, you ladies don’t beat around the bush,” Lucy chuckled. “Just bein’ friendly s’all, besides, I’d love to see someone knock Annie off her “Max is mine” pedestal,” Joanne informed us. “Um, no, I’m not doing anything with Max.” “So Max and Annie are an item?” Lucy asked, looking back at me. “Only in her eyes! She lets Max think it’s just friendly swapping of spit, but everyone in town knows she’s holdin’ out for him, except Max, that is,” Suzy whispered. “So they aren’t exclusive, they see other people,” Lucy inquired as I found my eyes drifting to Annie against my will. “Max thinks they’re just friends. Annie is hoping for a gold band,” Suzy answered. “He isn’t the type to settle down. Fair warning if you go there.” Annie’s warning from the day before ran through my head. My eyes snapped back to Annie and I caught her watching me. I didn’t know whether to be relieved that he wasn’t the type of guy to settle down or disappointed he wasn’t the type of guy to settle down. I went with neither and resolved myself into staying away from him. It didn’t matter what he did or didn’t do with me or any other woman in this town I was here for a few weeks then going home. “All right, let’s get started. Everyone please take a seat and we’ll begin the demonstration of Cockzilla,” Martha shouted to the room. We made our way to our chairs and sat while Martha and Maxine pulled out the night's main attraction. “Cockzilla can be used by either man or woman. It expands to fit a waist size up to sixty inches so you won’t have any trouble there, Jolene. Francis, you tell Ned it’s meant to be worn over his erection this time, we don’t want him hurting himself again,” Martha explained to members of the party. I saw women nodding their heads as Maxine pulled out a rubber penis the size of an elephant. It was connected to a harness that wraps around your waist and between your legs. Maxine helped Martha into the strap-on and then Martha began parading around the room like a runway model. Women reached out to touch the rubber penis, commenting on its softness of texture and likeness to their husband’s former youth. When she made her way around the room to Lucy and me, I lowered my

eyes to keep from laughing. The whole demonstration had me on the verge of hysterics, but I knew they took their work seriously, so I had to bite my tongue. Then Maxine commented, “Now, the size of this particular model is on the large size so you ladies need to remember to lift your hips for full penetration.” “What about from behind, Ned’s got a bad hip so he prefers standin,’” Francis, a plump woman with a cherub face and silver hair asked. “Martha, let’s show the ladies,” Maxine jumped in. Martha nodded and then headed towards her as women ducked from the protruding appendage. When Martha walked up to Maxine, she bent at the waist and put her hands on the side of her couch as Martha moved in behind her. I grabbed Lucy’s hand for strength and we both coughed to cover a laugh that broke loose. Needing something to keep from laughing further, I grabbed two of the cock-o-late suckers and we both shoved them in our mouths. “Tell Ned to bend at the knees, and then you lift your ass just so,” Martha explained to Francis. Then Maxine lifted her ass, Martha bent at the knees, and I bit down on the sucker, the cream pouring out in an attempt to control my laughter. As Francis replied, “Oh, I get it, it’s all in the knees,” the front door opened, slammed, and then a rumbling voice growled, “Jesus, what the fuck,” Max, with a pale horrified look on his face, scanned the room as everyone called out “Hey, Max, how’s it going?” As he took in the room and then took in his mother ’s position, he looked as if he would roar in male indignation. Then his eyes landed on mine. I couldn’t help it, the cream was pouring out of my sucker so I had to do something. Therefore, I licked the length of the chocolate cock as he watched. Okay, I may have closed my eyes a bit and moaned at the tasty goodness, but who wouldn’t? Max’s jaw clenched as he watched my tongue slide down the length of it and then back up. Then he bit out “Fuck me,” as he turned and was gone, slamming the door on his way out. Maxine started laughing, hell, we all started laughing as Martha hooted, “And that, ladies, is how to make a man lose his mind.” Somehow, after the party ended, Lucy and I found ourselves in the Jeep following Suzy and Joanne to Last Call for a drink. As we entered, heads turned but no applause was heard. It seemed everyone was here in silent remembrance of Curly. The four of us headed to the bar and took a seat. Ralph Potter, who I now knew, was Curly’s cousin, made his way over and stopped in front of me. I looked up and gave him a sad smile as he leaned in and asked, “Did he suffer?” “No, I don’t think so. I’m so sorry, Ralph.” “He lived a good life and he’d get a kick out of knowin’ he was the center of a murder investigation,” he chuckled. Reaching below the bar, Ralph pulled out shot glasses and put one in front of me, filling it with tequila. Then he poured one for himself, raised it, and I picked up my own. “To Curly, the blindest pilot this side of the tundra.” We threw back our drinks, slammed down the glass and then he pulled out more glasses for Lucy and the twins, filling them. As I picked up my glass for my second shot, a large hand stopped me from

partaking in the much-needed libation. Before I could turn I heard Max whisper, “You use that tongue of yours in front of me again, be prepared to back it up.” “Hey, Max, you enjoy the show at your mom’s?” Lucy asked. I turned to him as he grumbled, “Christ,” and I giggled. Apparently, Max wasn’t in a giggling mood. He scowled at me, hauled me from my stool, grabbed my arm, and headed towards the bathrooms. “What’s going on?” “You and your tongue owe me,” he answered as he opened the ladies’ room door and pushed me through. Then he shut it, locked it, and stalked me until my ass hit the sink. I put my hands up to fend him off, but he picked me up and put me on the sink, then stepped between my legs. “Max—” “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you fell off the fuckin’ plane,” he bit out as he leaned in, pressing my back to the mirror. “You hated me when I got off the plane.” “Yeah, and I still do.” “What? Then why are—” “I hate the way my gut tightens when I’m around you. I hate the way I get pissed when another man looks at you. I hate that you wear ridiculous T-shirts that I want to rip from your body, and I sure as hell hate the way your ass looks with a bear ’s face coverin’ it. However, what I hate most of all are your lips. The way you bite the bottom one when you’re thinkin’, or the way they’ll eventually look wrapped around my cock.” “I’m not good with men,” blurted out. “I’m gettin’ that, babe. What you gotta understand is that turns me on, not off.” “You’re turned on?” I asked breathlessly. “Yeah, and the fact you don’t get that is another thing to hate.” “Okay,” I whispered melting into the wall at the sound of his growling voice. “You gonna let me kiss you now?” “I think I’d kinda hate you if you didn’t.” “Wouldn’t want that,” he whispered as his head descended. His hands at my side pulled me solid against his chest as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I leaned my head one way, and he tilted his the other. Then he reached up and grabbed my face as our lips met. However, before I could open my mouth and taste him, there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Max, you in there?” “Fuck,” Max bit out against my lips. The man with the world’s worst timing pounded on the door again, so Max lifted me off the sink and then mumbled, “The town better be on fire.” Max moved to the door and ripped it open, scowling at the redheaded man I’d seen him with when we’d first arrived. He was standing with his hand in the air, ready to knock for a third time. Gingerman looked past Max, grinned at me, telling Max, “Mayor is looking for you. He’s on the phone.” “Right, next time take a message,” Max snapped as he turned around, grabbed my hand, heading us back down the hall towards the bar. “Right, right, sorry boss.” The girls wiggled their eyebrows when we returned and Lucy coughed, “Hooker.” Ignoring them for a view of Max’s ass in those Wranglers, I followed him with my eyes as he

headed for the phone. As I watched him, Annie stepped into my line-of-sight as Max picked up the phone. She leaned up and then whispered in his ear, her eyes on me as she did. That’s when I remembered Max and Annie. Jesus, I’m an idiot! I wasn’t anything special, just another one-night stand for the Crown Prince of Trails End. Not about to become another “friends with benefits” my flight or fight response kicked in, or in this case, just a plain old flight to protect my heart kicked in and I turned to Lucy. “Catch a ride with the twins, I gotta go,” I whispered and then grabbed my pack and hightailed it out of there before Max could return. Max had caught my attention at first glance. Then he’d rescued me, flirted, teased, defended my honor, saved me, and finally yelled at me because he was concerned for my safety. All of that in three short days, which had, unfortunately, for me, made an impression on my heart. No way could I have a one-night stand with him and act as if it didn’t mean something to me. So I ran. Besides, he said he hated me, he could just add “running from him” to the list of the many attributes he hates.

Eight Sco o b y Do o and the Gang meet the Incred ib l e Hul k

“Ladies, time to rise and shine, there’s a town hall meeting in forty-five minutes and everyone will be there. We’ll be able to ask around without heading up the mountain,” Maxine cheerfully informed us, waking me from a deep and satisfying dream. I’d spent my dreams in the arms of Thor and was now questioning my sanity at having skipped out on him the night before. However, in the light of day, and Maxine in my ear, I got over it and rolled away from her. It’s been close to ten years since a mother woke me early, and my reaction was still the same. I threw my pillow over my head and tried to ignore her. Apparently, mothers around the world have the same handbook for such moves. Because, Maxine, in response to my roll, pulled the sheets from my body, yanked the pillow from my head, and ordered, “Up, now, or no breakfast for you.” Lucy mumbled “Coming Mother,” and I rolled to my back and opened one eye, while she stared down at me, arms crossed as if she had a bone to pick. “What?” “Why’d you run from Max?” “How did—” “Lucy told me when she came in last night.” “Oh, boy—” “My boy is stubborn; he isn’t gonna back down just because you ran.” “Well, he—” “If you’re not interested fine, but you could do worse, that I can tell you.” “Maxine, I—” “Anyhow, that’s a subject for another time. We leave in thirty minutes. Up, get dressed, and then eat. After, we’ll head over and pick up Martha,” she ordered again then she left the room. I looked at Lucy, who seemed to be finding the whole conversation hysterical, and asked her in all seriousness, “Did she just tell me I should sleep with her son?” “Most definitely.” “Now I know where he gets it from,” I yawned as I sat up and headed for my suitcase. “Gets what?” “His bluntness, it must be a family trait. He holds nothing back, tells you exactly what he’s thinking.” “Girl, when they hold nothing back, you get a dirty talker in the sack and that’s beyond hot,” she advised as we both pulled out our clothes. “Nope, my emotions have been all over the place regarding Max. When he’s around, I can’t help myself and when he’s not in my face, I want to run and hide. I made my decision last night and I’m sticking with it. I won’t be another notch on his bedpost.” “Killjoy, I’d love to know what the King of the mountain’s like in bed.” “Sorry, to disappoint, but I have bears and a life sentence to worry about if the chief doesn’t pull his head out of his ass.” I pulled my Scooby Doo T-shirt on as we talked. I have a thing for the cartoons of my youth and a love of vintage tee’s. This one sported the whole Scooby gang standing in front of the Mystery Machine. When I was a kid, I wanted that van, and envisioned myself as Thelma, the smart one, who

always solved the case. In real life, now that my head was on the line, I wished I had those crazy kids on my side. “So which one are you, Thelma or Daphne?” Lucy asked when she saw my shirt. “Right, now, I feel more like Scooby or Shaggy along for the ride.” “I think you ladies are more Betty and Veronica,” Frank announced from the doorway. “Knock would ya, we’re changing,” Lucy snapped. “That would be counterproductive, how am I supposed to sneak a peek if I knock?” “Perv,” I laughed, throwing a pillow at his head. “Agreed, but Maxine wanted me to tell you to get your asses in gear. There are killers to find and muffins getting cold.” “Yeah, yeah, be there in a minute,” I told him as I grabbed my shoes. “Come on Betty time to get this show on the road. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lucy announced. I smiled at her and then looked around the room uttering Thelma’s catch phrase. “My glasses! I can't find my glasses!” “Jeepers,” she responded. “Jinkies,” I replied. “Jesus, I think I’m turned on,” Frank laughed. “To the Mystery Machine,” I shouted and then grabbed my pack, heading for the door. We made our way down the hall and through the great room to the entrance of the kitchen, and then halted. She whispered, “Retreat, retreat,” and we all took a step back in fear. Standing with his back to the counter, arms crossed, glaring at his mother as she glared back was the Incredible Hulk, and he was about to lose his ever-loving mind. In his hand was the list of suspects Maxine and Martha had drawn up. Which, incidentally, they’d titled “List of suspect we need to investigate,” so we knew the jig was up. Lucy backed up again. I backed up again. Hell, even Frank took a step back when he turned his angry eyes on us. “Like, Help!” I whispered in Lucy’s ear. That made her giggle and Max narrowed his eyes at me. He scanned my body, took in my shirt, then his jaw tightened. Ready to morph into the Hulk, he turned to his mother and told her, “Swear to God, if you run around this town half-cocked, looking for this killer, I’ll put you in a rest home.” “I’d like to see you try, Maximilian. Now go to your meeting, you’ll be late.” “You keep your nose out of this, you hear me?” Maxine’s own jaw tightened in a mirror image of her sons and then she bit out “Fine, scouts honor.” “You were never a scout . . . Jesus H . . . I don’t have time for this shit,” he yelled. “I got a business to run, and town to worry about, I don’t need to add crazy mother to that mix.” “Then go, get to your meeting. I promise I won’t do anything stupid,” she conceded. Max studied her face then bit out “Fuck,” ‘cause he knew she was lying. Hell, I knew she was lying and I’d only met her four days ago. Folding the sheet of paper and putting it in his back pocket, he then turned and informed me, “You and me, we aren’t done, not by a long shot. I’ll see you later and then we’ll talk about your disappearin’ act.” “I’ll be busy later,” I informed standing my ground. “Yeah, you will, but not doin’ what you think you’ll be doin’.”

“I’ll be “doin’” exactly what I planned on “doin’” which doesn’t include “doin’” something with you.” Max drew in a sharp breath through his nose, then looked back at his mother. “Three days in this house and she already sounds like you.” Then he turned on his heels and headed for the front door. Maxine waited about two seconds after he left before she announced, “Change of plans . . . Mia, you take my van and keep Max occupied. We’ll use your Jeep since it’s less conspicuous and Max won’t be looking for it. Ok, get your muffins and coffee, get in the Jeep, and let’s hit the road.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a damn minute,” I bit out. “I’m not keeping Max occupied while you interview people.” “You don’t have a choice. You either keep him occupied or go to jail.” “They can’t arrest me if I didn’t do anything.” “Tell that to the innocent men and women who occupy prisons all over the country and see what they say.” Dammit, she had a point and that pissed me off. I needed the police off my back so we could do our work, but most importantly, someone needed to pay for killing Curly and Donald. I looked around the room, searching for any other solution and came up empty. “Fine, I’ll do it, but under protest.” Lucy moved to the counter, then to grab a muffin and a cup of coffee. As she snagged her breakfast, she replied “The way that man just looked at you, the only thing you’ll be protesting is leaving his bed.” “I never said I’d sleep with him, I’m only running interference.” “I don’t care what you have to do to keep him occupied, just do it,” Maxine ordered heading towards her key rack, tossing me a set of keys. “He’s at town hall for a meeting that starts in ten minutes. It’ll last as long as it needs to with all the bellyachin’ that’ll probably take place. Sit outside until it ends, then find Max and keep him out of our hair. You can do that by apologizing for runnin’ out on him. We may need you to keep him occupied for a couple of hours, maybe longer, so be convincin’ or he’ll know somethin’ is up.” “God, this sucks. Every instinct I have told me to stay away from him. It’s like you’re throwing me into a lion’s den.” “Nope, not a lion, more like a bear who bellows,” she laughed and then kept moving out of the kitchen. “You can drive Frank. Now let’s get a move on. Lucy and Frank both patted me on the shoulder as they followed her out. I wondered as they left, if I turned myself in and confessed, would that be less of a headache. Right about then I was thinking, “You bet your sweet ass it would.” Dammit, what would Thelma do in this situation? She’d give Thor a Scooby snack to get him to do what she wanted . . . then she’d solve the mystery. Fine, lunch it is. Besides, Scooby Doo was only a thirty-minute show and they always got their man, how long would I actually have to spend time with Max? The two-story, wood-framed building which housed the Mayor ’s office and police station, sat at the end of Main Street across from the town square. The building had a bell tower, it was painted white with black shutters, and it was decorated for fall. Town square had an old weathered gazebo, covered in vines, and it was large enough to hold a small band. The picturesque setting, like a Norman Rockwell painting, was now full of angry men and women.

The town’s residents were outraged over the death of Curly Potter, and the vultures were circling with their cameras. Max had seen two news vans when he arrived earlier, and figured more would come now that word was out they had a killer in their midst. Nothing sells like death, even in a small town like Trails End. Zimmer ’s untimely death would make national news of course. He knew it and couldn’t stop it. His peaceful town had become headline news all because one of his own had decided to kill. The remaining question was who. The meeting went as he expected. Citizens were concerned and everyone was suspicious of their neighbor ’s actions. One person even suggested they move the bears off Grizzly Pointe to avoid future activists from coming. What had surprised him the most were the questions about Mia being the killer. How anyone could think that half-pint of a woman could kill anyone was beyond him. However, he’d wanted to wring her neck himself. She could run, but she couldn’t hide and he planned to rectify that as soon as he locked his mother up in a home for wayward parents. Leave it to his mother to come up with a hair-brained scheme that she and Martha could catch a killer. Christ, he didn’t have time for this shit, Max thought. He didn’t have time to worry about his mother, but he didn’t have a choice. Spread thin on a good day, now he had to add hunt down his mother to his list of things to do for that day. Descending the steps, Max headed for the parking lot. When his eyes caught sight of his mother ’s VW van, he turned and searched the crowd for her. Since she was here, he could mark one fuckin’ thing off his list and move on to the next. As he scanned the crowd, looking for her braided gray hair, he was surprised at what he found instead. Raven-black hair, men’s frames that hid crystal blue eyes, and a Scooby-fuckin’-Doo T-shirt that made his mouth twitch. Mia hadn’t seen him and he wasn’t sure if she was there for him or looking for Stetson, but he didn’t care. One scan of her body had his feet moving towards her determined to get a few things straight, namely, she wasn’t running from him again.