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26

ALEX

T he second time Orson saved Alex by shifting into a bear was no less shocking and surprising than the first time. His clothing exploded off him as he burst into bear form. The last intact glass in the truck shattered and the whole thing turned into a fiery Roman candle, shrapnel and screaming metal flung in all directions.

If they had been sitting inside or standing closer, Alex shuddered to think what might have happened. She was grateful that the contents of the back of the truck had been thrown clear so she had to go searching for them. She was even more grateful that Orson hadn’t been sheltering in it.

Orson’s furry body was a literal bear hug, his thick arms wrapping around her as flaming truck parts fell around them.

When he finally let go, almost nothing was left of the vehicle. If Alex had any lingering doubts about being targets, they were gone now. Someone at Snafu River—Grizzly Protection Services!—could have done this with the missing detonator. It would look like a simple accident gone terribly wrong…and damn the collateral. Were they after her? Orson? This would have taken care of both of them.

Orson shrank back to his human shape. “I’m not going to get another pair of pants,” he said in dismay, looking at the shattered, burning wreck.

“I thought your clothing magically went with you,” Alex said, hating how shaky her voice sounded.

“It’s like potty training,” Orson said sheepishly. “You learn to do it as a kid, but sometimes shock and stress make you forget. It’s the shifter equivalent of pissing yourself in fear.”

Alex had to laugh despite the gravity of their situation, eyeing his naked form with adrenaline-streaked appreciation. “There’s another pair of rain pants in the emergency kit. I’m invested in protecting some of those parts from mosquitoes.”

She got him decent, though the pants were several sizes too small, and gave him her raincoat since she at least had a long-sleeved T-shirt. She fingered a gash she found in it, sliced by broken glass. “Someone at the security company did this,” she said grimly. “Someone who wanted one or both of us out of the way.”

The protective gleam in Orson’s eyes raised an unexpected heat in her. “I will find them,” he said. “I will find them and make them sorry.”

Their phones had been in the truck, but there was no cell signal here, anyway. Alex wouldn’t be able to contact the office until they got to Deadhorse. She squinted into the rain, turning every irate employee they had over in her head. “I can’t figure out who would do this,” she said, frustrated and betrayed. “I thought that my people were solid. What would getting us out of the picture gain anyone?”

“Someone you fired? A rival business?” Orson didn’t have suggestions Alex hadn’t already considered.

“Possibly, but would they have this kind of technology? And inside information about where we would be? It’s not like they could use Find My Phone to track us to Coldfoot, and a tail would have been stunningly obvious on the deserted road when we’re stopping like tourists every ten miles. That delay was set by someone who knew our habits and could guess when we’d be vulnerable.”

“Then who would benefit from us being out of the way?” Orson asked. “My brothers would still have ownership of the company, and I wasn’t there long enough for any personal grudges. What would have happened with you out of the way? Who could be promoted? That tech guy? The brute with the ’stache? Sandra?”

“Telly doesn’t want that kind of authority,” Alex said thoughtfully. “John has a rap sheet and a family he wouldn’t risk.”

“Sandra?” Orson asked again.

Alex didn’t even want to consider it, but now that she was…Sandra knew exactly where they would be and when. She obviously disagreed with some of Alex’s business choices, and she had been agitating for a promotion she didn’t qualify for in the slightest. She hadn’t been the tiniest bit concerned about the missing detonator, actively dismissing Alex’s worries.

Did Sandra resent the fact that Alex had never given her special treatment? Was she angry that Alex had been the one to salvage the company and win awards? With Alex and Orson out of the way, she could probably get a management position under one of Orson’s brothers who didn’t know better and fire the people she disagreed with. It would ruin the business, but Alex wondered how much she actually cared about that.

Even her relationship advice was suspect now. Had she been trying to get Alex canned so she could step up? And when Alex told her that she and Orson had worked out an equitable business agreement, had she decided to take more drastic and permanent action?

“I don’t want to believe it,” Alex said, shaking her head. Her ankle hurt wickedly and her head was pounding, but neither hurt as much as her heart. “I thought she was my friend.”

But she’d never been good with friends. Maybe it was all a terrible misjudgment on her part.

“Don’t assume the worst,” Orson said, holding her tighter. “We’ll find proof before we go around accusing anyone.” His mismatched and poorly fitting rain suit rustled around her. “Is that a truck coming?”

An orange pickup was starting up the hill, a construction work crew light on the top of its cab.

As they watched it grow in size, a semi hurtled down the hill, honking helpfully as it passed. The big rig would have no more luck stopping on the way down and blocking the road than it would going up, but Alex thought it was honking to encourage them.

The orange truck finally got to them, and a big, bearded driver got out and boggled at the smoking wreck of their truck. “Are you guys okay?”

“Some bruises and scrapes,” Alex said, not offering to explain why Orson was barefoot and wearing nothing but rain gear or how either of them had survived. The cab of his truck was warm, and they squeezed into the front bench seat with Alex in the middle.

But she wasn’t okay at all.