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Her cousin Ellie Swanson raised her own mug. “To Malia!”
Elk hunting season was in full swing, and so was steelhead fishing on the Salmon River, so the club was crowded with out-of-towners even though there wasn’t any live music tonight.
Everyone seemed to be talking at the tops of their voices, and the air was thick with the smells of food, beer, and strangers.
Malia caught a glimpse of Kymberlie Tringstad behind the bar. The club’s owner had her blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun, and she moved with quick efficiency to serve the customers jostling for elbow room at the long, granite-topped counter.
“Thanks, you two,” Malia said, after she’d taken a deep pull of a smooth local ale.
“How’s Rob doing?” Ellie asked.
“Better,” answered Malia. “He’s still pretty weak from losing all that blood, and mostly just sleeping. He apparently spent most of yesterday completely out of it. He didn’t even wake up when I dropped by the clinic to visit him. The nurse told me that he only woke up long enough to eat and use the bathroom. And that he’s out of it because his body is working overtime to heal.” She smiled wryly. “I never thought I’d miss Rob complaining about his gigs and his lack of dates.”
“I thought he was dating someone over at the Cougar Lake Ranch,” Ellie said. “A girl this time.”
Malia shook her head. “Didn’t work out.”
She and her twin had always approached life very differently. His romantic exploits among both the men and women of Lemhi County were already legendary, and fueled a steady stream of gossip, most of it disapproving.
Now that Rob and his bandmates were beginning to tour around the state, his dating pool had expanded. If his stories could be believed, he was taking joyful advantage of every opportunity that came his way.
Good for him!Malia told herself that she wasn’t jealous. Even if the number of young, local, single shifter men who weren’t her relatives was vanishingly small.
“And have you found out who shot him?” Maggie asked, placing a hand over her gently rounded tummy.
Malia shook her head. “Working on it. I’m going to get those guys if it’s the last thing I do.”
She’d spent a long time yesterday trying to convince Mom to let her work the case.
In the end, the deciding factor had been Kenny’s and Annika’s absences. It rankled. Sure, Malia was the most junior officer in the department, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know what she was doing!
Once she’d finally gotten the okay, she’d spent several hours yesterday examining the place where Rob had been shot.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t turned any significant leads. Crushed plants in the meadow had supported Rob’s account of a truck veering off the road to pursue him, but Malia hadn’t been able to find any clear tire tracks.
She’d carefully photographed the blood trail leading into the blackberry thicket and back out again, and dug two bullets out of the trunks of trees standing on the edge of the meadow. And that was it.
No eyewitnesses except for Rob, who’d been running for his life at the time.
It was damned discouraging. She wanted…no, sheneededto catch the ones who’d done this to her brother.
With an effort, Malia yanked her thoughts back to here and now. “Anyhow, how are things going with you, Maggie? I’m sorry I kind of ghosted you guys this summer.”
Uncle Kenny had kept her so busy she hadn’t had time for anything except work and sleep.
“Don’t worry about it.” Maggie smiled sweetly and patted her baby bump. “Three months left to go before little Dane Ashton makes his debut. Cade’s been driving me crazy because he’s in ultra-protective mode right now. I mean it’s kind of sweet, but it’s also a bitmuch, if you know what I mean.”
Malia and Ellie both nodded. They’d grown up with bear shifters. Everyone knew what they were like, especially where their mates or kids were concerned.
In fact, Mom had had to stomp on Dad, hard, to keep him from “helping” with Malia’s investigation into Rob’s shooting.
“And I’ve been running around like a crazy person,” Maggie continued, “trying to get Mom’s mail-order business set up before the baby’s born. Oh, did I tell you that a representative from the Kee Wah bakery called last week?”
“No! What did they want?” demanded Ellie.
“They’re one of the country’s biggest commercial bakeries, and they want to license Mom’s cinnamon roll recipe for mass production.” Maggie grinned from ear to ear. “Apparently, the CEO of JavaJam visited Bearpaw Ridge a few months ago, and ate at Cinnamon + Sugar several times while he was here. Now, he wants to sign a deal to serve Mom’s buns in his coffee shops all over the country. Mom is over the moon—she says that if the deal goes through, she and Dad can retire early and do some traveling.”
“Oh, that’s awesome!” Malia exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. Everyone loved Maggie’s mom Annabeth and her amazing pastries. Cinnamon + Sugar was the town’s beating heart, the place where locals and tourists alike gathered for breakfasts, coffee dates, and snacks.
