Bearly in Control (Shifters Undercover Book 1) Read online

  No!

  The bear refused to even consider it for a second. The man wondered if maybe he’d ensure her safety by getting out of her life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Russel sat in the passenger seat of Devin’s car, headed back to the office from the bank robbery site. Devin was pensive. Too pensive. Russel worried if his coworker remembered he was driving.

  “Hey,” Russel said, “you doing anything this weekend?”

  Devin snapped out of his little world. “Um, not really. I’m still pretty new here. Don’t know what’s going on around town.”

  Russel snorted. “I take it you’re not married or have kids.”

  Devin paled, and for a second Russel thought he might pass out. “Nah, man. I wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she fell into my lap. I try to stay away from that stuff.”

  Russel couldn’t believe what he heard. “Don’t you want to find your mate and have lots of bambinos?”

  Devin glanced at him, then back to the road. “What’s ‘bambino’ mean?”

  “It’s Italian for kids, babies. I know a few words in Italian, but mostly it’s Greek to me.” Russel waited to see if Devin would get his joke. Just as he was going to explain, Devin held his hand up, stopping him.

  “Yes, dude. I get it. Greek and Italian. That’s actually funny.” No laughter or smile from Devin.

  Boy, this guy was more than a bit weird. It would take Russel some time to figure him out. First lesson, don’t make jokes when he comes out of his own world. “So, you have family up here or something? Not sure if I would choose Shedford over LA. Talk about opposites.”

  “That’s why I moved up here. Opposites. It was time for me to leave the big city. When I heard about this group, I jumped at the chance. What about you?”

  “We’re from Seattle. Not too far from here. I go home twice a month so Mom knows I’m alive. She’s so worried I’m going to get shot and die. She’s human, so she doesn’t get the whole thou art shifter and hard as hell to kill thing.”

  Devin nodded. “How did you hear about the fellowship up there?”

  “My captain told me about it. Not sure why they asked me to join. Maybe all the other shifters said no and that left me. It was time for a change. Time for a move.” Actually, he’d never wondered why they asked him. He was happy to do whatever they wanted. A new place meant new friends. And in his mind, the more, the merrier.

  “What all has snake eyes?” Devin asked.

  Russel looked at his coworker, wondering where his mind was. Was he all work and no play? Aww, man. He hoped not. He wanted get-togethers and parties. His family never needed a real reason to have a gathering. His baby cousin Tommy made his first shift as an infant, and his parents had everyone over for a cookout.

  Russel reattached his brain for thinking, already in weekend mode. “Well, what kind?”

  “What do you mean, what kind?”

  “Snake eyes in Vegas are different than rattlesnake eyes in the woods.” That was pretty funny, and he wasn’t even trying with that one.

  Devin frowned. “Animals, not dice.”

  “Ah, of course. Well, you got your reptiles: alligators, crocodiles. I avoid those, especially in a tasty form. Luckily they aren’t this far north. I think fox, or is it foxes. Is foxes a word? It’s like fish and fishes. Fishes used to not be a word, but I thought I read where it was now okay to use—”

  Devin tensed in his seat and slammed on the brakes. “Cat!” he yelled.

  Russel nodded. “Yup, cat would, too, depending on—”

  “No. I mean there’s a cat in the road.”

  Through the windshield, the fluffy black critter stared at Russel as its eyes turned from brown with round pupils to green slits. “Like that.” He pointed. “They look like snake eyes now.” A shudder rippled through him. “Damn furry monsters. What were the gods thinking putting those things on the planet?”

  Devin lifted his right hand from the steering wheel and whipped out his slender razor claws. “You were saying?”

  Russel let out a squeak. “Man, stop that shit.” He batted at the panther paw as Devin laughed. “You know I don’t mean you when I say ‘cat.’ I’m talking about those things.” He nodded toward the four-legged creature that had resumed crossing the road, then turned down the alley between the water utility building and a clothing store.

  “Oh shit, that reminds me,” Russel groaned.

  “What?”

  “I need to pay my water bill before they cut me off. For some reason the bill didn’t make it to my apartment, and I didn’t think about it. I pay stuff when it comes in the mail. If they don’t send me a bill, then as far as I’m concerned, I don’t owe anything.”

  Devin chuckled and shook his head. “Mayer, it doesn’t work that way. The world will rejoice when you mate. She’ll straighten you out quickly, or you’ll have a sore ass for a long time.”

  “No way, José. She’ll have the sore ass after I’m done with her—”

  “Mayer,” Devin said between laughs, “TMI, man. Keep that shit in your own head. I don’t want to imagine you and whoever in your apartment, buried in crap.”

  He gasped. “Fuck, you’re right, dude.”

  “About what?” Devin asked with raised brows.

  “I need someone to clean my place before she comes over. I think there’s green stuff growing in the toilet.”

  Devin scrunched his nose in distaste. “That’s disgusting. Do you ever clean it?”

  “When it gets that bad, I just move to another place.” Russel slapped his shoulder. “Just kidding, man. I don’t sit on that toilet.”

  Devin roared in laughter. “Mayer, you’re hopeless. If you really want a service to clean your place, call Bryde at the bank for who they use. She’s very fond of cat people like you.”

  “Not doing it. I’ll call the jewelry shop. I saw the lady there. She looked honest, from a distance at least. Didn’t get close enough to smell her.”

  “Do you make it a habit to sniff women in public places?” Devin teased him. “I think I arrested you once in LA, in the park. You had a long overcoat on.”

  “Stop it, man. It wasn’t you who arrested me.”

  Again, Devin laughed, caught off guard by his wild comebacks.

  Russel googled the jewelry store for the phone link. He needed someone fast if he wanted to get his mate to his place this weekend. He was transferred to their office manager who gladly gave him the name of their cleaning service. He wrote it down and repeated it back to her.

  After he hung up, Devin said, “That address is right around the corner. You want to check the place out? Get a feel for how reputable they are?”

  “Yeah, if it’s that close. Maybe I can talk to someone there and schedule a job on the spot. That’d be cool.”

  At the next light, Devin turned and took the first left. They pulled into an industrial warehouse park with rows of metal buildings with docks for loading and unloading cargo. They counted up address numerals until they reached what Russel wrote on his scrap of paper.

  “Is that it?” Devin asked. They stared at a small, run-down aluminum structure. Dandelions grew through cracks in the concrete in front of the glass door that was padlocked shut.

  “It’s what she said she had on file. Maybe they moved and didn’t tell her.” The two windows were crusted with so much dirt and dust, they couldn’t see in, even when they put their noses against the glass to peek. “Should we knock and go in?” Russel asked.

  “I don’t know,” Devin said. “This thick-ass chain around the door says a lot.”

  “Well, that sucks. Let me try the cleaning company’s phone number.” The line rang until a voice said to leave a message and they would get back to him as soon as possible. “Right.” He pushed the red button on his mobile phone.

  Devin felt around the pockets in his sport coat and pulled out a few business cards. He shuffled through them and handed one to Russel. “What’s this?”

  “It’s f
or the bank. Ask them who their cleaning lady was. You really need to not screw up things with your mate. One whiff and . . . whoo.” Devin waved his hand in front of his nose as if fanning away an awful smell.

  “Hey,” Russel started, “I’ll have you know I use air freshener.”

  “How often?”

  “Whenever it gets bad enough that even I can smell it.” Russel smiled and dialed the number on the card. Ms. Bryde gladly shared the information Russel was looking for. She highly recommended the lady. Russel hung up the phone and turned to Devin.

  “You’re not going to believe this. It’s the same company and address the jeweler uses.” He laid his head against the building’s window. “Shit. Maybe the neighbor girl will clean my place if I pay her a hundred bucks.”

  “Damn, man. I’d almost do it for that much.” Russel looked at him with hope in his eyes. “I said almost.”

  Russel ran a hand through his hair. “Now what?”

  Devin put his nose to the edge of the door where it met the metal frame. “I smell a lot of distressed emotions inside.” He stepped back. “What do you smell?”

  Russel breathed deeply against the slot. “Yeah, I get the same. Along with cat.” With a huff, he backed away. “What is it with all the fucking cats suddenly? I don’t have to mess with any for weeks, then—bam!—I get them all day long.”

  Devin stared at the door. “What if the lady is inside and she’s hurt or sick? What if she needs help but can’t reach a phone?” He looked at Russel and grinned. “I think we should go in just to make sure she’s all right.”

  “You got it, boss.” Russel lifted the heavy chain and wedged his fingers into a link, then pried it apart enough to slip off. With a lockpick tool Devin kept in his car, they made their way inside.

  “Ugh.” Russel pinched his nose closed. “This place is worse than mine.” The front room wasn’t much bigger than a box, with a file cabinet, desk, chair, and enough office supplies to make it look functional. The untouched layers of dust gave away the last time it was used as such.

  After opening another door, they walked into the meat of the place. It resembled a frat house the morning after a big party. Pizza boxes, some with half a pizza remaining, were scattered around, along with Chinese take-out boxes, candy bar wrappers, soft drink cans, and general trash.

  “Man,” Russel started, “I would’ve moved out of here a long time ago.”

  “Nice to see you have standards,” Devin teased.

  “Whatever, dude. This is just disgusting. How can a cleaning lady be so . . . unclean?”

  Devin shrugged. “You know the saying: the cobbler’s children never have shoes.” Next to a small door, several cleaning bottles sat in a tote along with a fairly new vacuum cleaner and brooms. “She has the tools of the trade. And they look like they haven’t been used that long. Did you by chance ask how long she’d been working for either company?”

  “Nope, wasn’t too concerned at the time.” Russel kicked trash aside to make a pathway toward a corner where several blankets were bunched on the floor. A pillow lay to the side. After a breath, he said, “This is where a cat sleeps. But what about the woman?” He looked around for a bed or couch.

  “Maybe she sleeps somewhere else and just keeps her trash here.” Devin smirked. “Maybe the cat is here to keep the mice away.”

  He noted a pair of hiking boots with mud stuck between the logo lines on the sole. A crumpled leaf lay nearby.

  Devin said, “I didn’t see a vehicle outside. Where do you suppose she is since her cleaning stuff is here?”

  “I don’t know,” Russel began. “I get the feeling this cleaning lady isn’t a real business.”

  Devin opened a door into a small bathroom. “Maybe it’s a second job for her. Something she moonlights by herself.”

  “That’s possible, I guess. But I’d rather bribe the neighbor girls with money. Safer.”

  “I hear ya,” Devin said. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  At the fellowship’s office, Russel researched the cleaning company’s name to see what he could find. The search engine returned 1.4 million results in half a second. “Shit. This isn’t going to work either.” He added Shedford to the search terms and came up empty.

  “Well, slap my ass and call me Sally.” This was getting irritating. He had to find someone else. “Hey, Sonder. I’ll raise it to one fifty.” He waited for a reply. Nothing. He knew Sonder was at his desk, even though he couldn’t see around the cubical walls. “Sonder.” He stood and looked over the beige plastic wall. Devin sat at his desk, staring at the jewelry security footage. Russel wadded a piece of paper to throw into his space. Something out of place would get his attention.

  Russel launched the ball. Devin spun in his chair, caught it, and slammed it in the trash can. “Two points for me and an assist for you, boy.” Russel should’ve known their extra strong shifter hearing would ruin any surprise attack.

  “What are you so serious about over there? You were like this in the SUV coming here.”

  “It’s on the tip of my brain. If I could just grab it.”

  “Grab what?”

  “The answer to this case. I have it right there . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment, then swung around in the chair. “Dammit.”

  “You’re thinking too hard, man. You can’t do that. It’s gotta come naturally when it wants, not when you want.”

  He spun toward Russel. “Get Detective Gibbons on the phone.”

  Russel’s face lit up. “Now you’re talking.” He pulled out his cell and pushed the speed dial button for her that he had programmed earlier in the day. Devin came to his desk. A sweet voice filled his ear.

  “Gibbons here.”

  “Hey, babe. Whatcha wear—” Devin grabbed the phone.

  “Sorry ’bout that, Detective Gibbons. It’s hard to turn him off, sometimes.” He grinned at Russel. Russel flipped him the bird. Devin smiled.

  Yeah, he and Devin would work out just fine. The guy may come across as weird occasionally. But honestly, who didn’t in this day and age. Being a little psycho was normal. Even for a cat.

  “Got it. Thank you, Detective. Have a good weekend.” Russel grabbed the phone, wanting to talk to his mate before she hung up. Too late.

  “Dammit, Sonder. I wanted to talk to her.”

  “She didn’t want to talk with you. She called you an egotistical ass.”

  Russel flopped into his chair, a huge grin on his face. “She likes me.”

  Devin’s brows lowered. “I said she called you an ass. How do you get she likes you from that?”

  “Man, you just gotta know how women work.”

  “You”—Devin raised his brows—“know how women work?” Russel twirled his chair and propped his feet up on the side of his desk. He leaned back, fingers intertwined behind his head.

  “Growing up between my sisters, their friends, my ten female cousins, and Mom and her friends, it’s a wonder I’m not gay.”

  “Ah,” Devin said. “That explains a lot.”

  “I’m going to ignore that remark, cat.” Russel grimaced, feigning anger. “Anyway, I’ve seen all the games, all the mind fucks, and not-so mind fucks—and holy shit, the sexual escapades of some of them girls were hot. After eavesdropping, my inexperienced kid body had to go to the bathroom and spank the monkey a few times, if you know what I mean.”

  Devin stared at him for a minute with a puzzled look on his face. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Has anyone told you that you might be overfriendly?”

  “Nope. When all the aunts and uncles bring the kids for a cookout, I’m one of the quieter ones. With all the females, I can’t get a word in edgewise. But listening to them is better than a girly magazine. Shoo-wee. Well, until Mom talks. I just can’t picture her and Dad in bed.” He gave a whole-body wiggle. “That’s just not right.”

  He continued. “Anyway, what else did my luscious mate have to say?”

  �
�Yeah.” Devon shook his head as if coming out of a daze called Russel’s World. “Detective Gibbons, right. I asked her about fingerprints on the jewelry case since I didn’t see it in the disaster box of files they sent over. There had to be one in all that mess.” Devin parked his ass on Russel’s desk next to his feet. “Listen to this.

  “Gibbons said there were no prints except for a partial on a light switch. She’d forgotten about it, thinking it must’ve been tagged wrong because of what they got back. It took a while, but results said it belongs to a woman in DC who went missing six months ago. Her case is unsolved. Gibbons gave me a phone number for our branch in DC who dealt with the case. I think we should call them.”

  Russel leaned forward in his chair and brought his feet to the floor. “Absolutely, if you think they are still in the office over there.” He dragged the desk speakerphone closer.

  “If they are anything like the guys I worked with, they are never off duty. We take the job home.”

  Russel grunted. “I hear you, man. What’s the number?” Devin rattled it off from memory and Russel dialed. After a couple of rings, a deep voice came through the speaker.

  “Wheeler here.”

  “Director Wheeler, this is Devin Sonder and Russel Mayer from the fellowship in Oregon. How are you this evening?”

  “Hey, great to hear from our first branch. All is good here. How about out there?”

  “Not bad. We’re getting set up. Sticking our toes in the water with our first big case, which happens to have a tie with your group.”

  “Really? What can we help you with? Hold on. I’m putting you on speaker so the agents in my office can hear, too.” After clicks and some scuffing, Wheeler’s voice came through sounding tinny. “Devin, you there? Or did I manage to hang up on you like I normally do with this damn high-tech phone crap?” Laughter came across the line.

  Devin smiled. “Still here. Can’t get rid of us that easily.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Wheeler said. “Whatcha got for us?”