bench right through the breakfast shift. What were you reading?”
“Library book. I need to talk to you. It’s about Yvonne. She’s being bullied at school.” Melanie grabbed Brinda’s hands because she looked about to faint. “Now don’t get all worried. I think we can nip this in the bud. She doesn’t want you to know.”
“But why wouldn’t she come to me?” Brinda wailed.
Because she thinks you’re dying of cancer , but Melanie didn’t say that aloud.
Chapter Three
“What’s up?”
“You heard about the bear cubs and mothers being slaughtered?” Mike knocked his brother’s boots off his desk and hooked a thumb. “Up. We have the same blasted chair, Drake. Why is it that you have to sit in mine when I’m gone?”
“No. Where’d you hear that?” Drake swirled the leather seat and stood. “But then again, I only got into town about an hour ago. Your chair has that heat warming thingy. Mine doesn’t.”
“Switch them out and then leave mine alone. Why must you move every single item on my desk? You gotta learn to contain your fiddling.” Mike slumped into the warm seat, adjusted the desk blotter equidistant from all four corners, and scraped at his chin stubble.
Drake crossed his eyes. “You’re such a neat freak. What’s this about bears and cubs and slaughters? And how do you know?”
“Found a cub and its mother on the way to the cabin yesterday. Mother was torn apart. Shredded. Cub was still breathing, not that there was much left of it. I took it to Doc G.’s, but it died. And Doc G. told me there’s been a spate of similar slaughters.”
“So someone’s hunting bears. What’s it to you? Want coffee?” Drake dug a creamer out of the coffee basket, stared at the label, and made a face. “Hazelnut flavored cream? Must we have Mrs. McIntosh as our receptionist? How many other kills?”
“Yes, we must. She needs the money, and we owe her. Five similar slaughters have occurred since May. Drake, that smell was there at the site of the kill. That same stink from when Boyd died.” Mike shook his head. “I thought this had ended long ago.”
“Christ!” Drake spun around. Their gazes met. “Mom. What’re we going to do?”
“Keep it from her for as long as possible.” Mike plowed his hands through his too-long hair. “I couldn’t believe it when I came across the bear and her cub. The minute the stench hit my nose. Fuck. It was like it had happened yesterday.”
“You look rattled. And you never look rattled. Better get it together fast. We have that press conference at ten. You could be mistaken.”
“I could.”
“But you aren’t, are you?”
“I wouldn’t bet on this one.”
The Dorland name had been the only thing that kept the whole scandal under wraps when Boyd Dorland, their uncle, had been murdered less than two months after their father’s death. The man had been found in the forests near the reservation, facial features clawed to shreds, limbs wrenched from his torso, and only a partial dental match had identified him. But the vicious killing hadn’t been the source of the rampant gossip. No, that would’ve been too simple and straightforward.
“Mom’s tenure on reality is tenuous as it is. If that old scandal rears…maybe we should consider telling Mom about the gossip after all… ”
Ever since their mother had insisted on returning to Chabegawn, the two brothers had had a running argument whether to tell her about the nasty rumors that had surfaced after Boyd’s killing. In the end, they’d decided on a wait-and-see approach.
“Coffee.” Mike pointed at the coffeemaker. He deliberately changed the subject. “Where’d you disappear to last night?”
“Country club followed by a cozy hotel room near the resort.”
“Don’t mess with the local women, pup. No fucking where you live. I need to check e-mail, and then we’ll grab breakfast at the diner.”
Drake popped open the coffee basket for the machine and emptied a few
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