Page 11 of Guard Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #5)

Chapter

Ten

Andre arrived at the Fate Mountain Community Center forty minutes early.

The parking lot stretched empty before him, gravel crunching beneath his truck tires.

Morning light filtered through the tall windows as he pushed through the double doors.

The familiar scent of old wood and lemon polish filled his lungs.

The main hall waited in silence. Metal folding chairs stood stacked against the walls, their surfaces cold when he grabbed the first set.

Each chair opened with a sharp snap that echoed through the space.

He worked steadily, creating neat rows while his mind wandered to last night at Lake Fate.

Joy's soft intake of breath when their lips met.

The gentle pressure of her fingers curling into his shirt…

Chief Heath Reynolds shouldered through the doors, carrying a box of files. "Morning," Andre said.

"Big crowd expected." Heath set the box of files on the floor, then started arranging chairs at the front of the room. "The whole town's spooked."

Andre helped Heath set up a long table at the front, positioning chairs behind it for the leadership team.

When Andre wasn’t patrolling Joy’s property, he’d been interviewing victims, compiling reports, and looking for patterns.

Now they'd share those findings with the community.

People began arriving before they finished setting up.

Rollo Morris entered first, his weathered face set in grim lines.

Heath waved him to the front table. "Rollo, you'll sit up here with us. "

Gage Stockwell followed, then Damien Fellows and Knox Carter. The veterans took their places at the leadership table, folders and notepads appearing from their weathered hands. Heath’s son, Detective Gabriel Reynolds, nodded to Andre as he walked in.

Business owners filled the rows quickly.

Andre recognized faces from his security rounds.

Ellen Cooper from the pottery shop claimed a front seat.

The Muellers sat behind her, their general store the heart of Main Street for forty years.

Ranchers drove in from outlying properties, their boots tracking mud across the polished floor.

The recent victims clustered together. Ash and Eliana Bright found seats in the second row.

Andre had spent hours in their orchard, walking the burn sites, documenting evidence.

Theo and Serena Keenan sat behind them. The interview at the academy had taken most of yesterday morning.

Max and Laney Bock sat near the aisle. He'd met them at the brewery, Laney's scientific precision impressive as she'd walked him through the contamination timeline.

Henry and Ivy Kincaid slipped in as the room filled.

The quiet forest ranger had been harder to interview, but Ivy's enthusiasm for the nature center had filled the gaps.

Rookie cop, Valeria Reynolds, was helping with crowd control. She held herself with the same quiet authority as her father and brother. Then Joy walked in and hugged Valeria before taking a seat.

Joy wore jeans and a burgundy blouse, her hair catching the overhead lights. Their eyes met across the crowded room. Andre's hands stilled on the stack of agendas he'd been counting. The small smile she gave him sent heat through his chest. “Soon…” the word echoed in his mind.

The papers slipped from his grip, scattering across the floor. He crouched to gather them, face burning. "Let me help." Rollo left the front table, and he helped Andre scoop up the papers. "Public speaking jitters?"

"Something like that." Andre straightened, forcing his attention back to the task.

More people poured in. The hall designed for fifty now held over sixty, with latecomers standing along the walls. Andre took his seat at the head table next to Rollo. Joy sat in the front row, close enough that he caught hints of her scent when the air moved.

Heath stood at the front table, raising his hand for quiet. The nervous chatter died slowly.

"Thank you all for coming." Heath’s voice carried to the back corners. "Our community faces a threat unlike anything we've seen. The attacks aren't random. They're coordinated. Planned. We’ll be hearing from our coordinator this morning.” Heath motioned for Andre to stand.

Worried murmurs rippled through the crowd. Ellen Cooper gripped her neighbor's arm. The Muellers exchanged dark looks. Andre cleared his throat.

"The Fate Mountain Security Initiative brings together active patrol and our veteran volunteers.

" Andre gestured to the men beside him. "Rollo Morris served as Police Chief for twenty-three years. Gage Stockwell, Damien Fellows, and Knox Carter protected this town for decades. They've volunteered their expertise. And it’s been my great honor to work with them and serve as coordinator for this initiative.”

The room settled slightly. These weren't outsiders like Andre. These were neighbors who'd proven themselves.

"Chief Reynolds brought me in as a pair of fresh eyes. I’ve spent the past three days interviewing those who've been attacked," Andre continued. "We've asked them to share their experiences publicly, so everyone understands the pattern."

Fire Chief Ash Bright stood first. During their interview, he'd been controlled, professional. Now, with Eliana's hand in his, emotion crept into his voice. "Hampton Orchard’s troubles started small. A brushfire that could have been natural. Tools moved around. Easy to write off as pranks."

His jaw tightened. "Then they burned a quarter of the heritage trees. Trees my wife's grandparents planted. When that didn't break her spirit, they took her apprentice Mateo.”

Theo rose next. In their interview, he'd laid out the sabotage with careful detail.

Now his voice carried the weight of betrayal.

"The Wilderness Academy faced systematic attacks all summer.

Cut ropes that could have killed trainees.

Equipment failures during crucial moments.

They turned our instructor Kai against us.

Paid him to plant evidence, make it look like I was responsible. "

"If climbers had died on those ropes..." Serena let the sentence hang.

Max held Laney’s hand as she stood. During their brewery interview, she'd shown him contamination charts, test results, scientific proof.

Now her voice shook with the human cost. "The brewery’s spring was contaminated.

Not all at once. Gradually. Flavors going off, batches ruined.

I ran tests and found toxic chemical levels that shouldn't exist naturally. "

Max added. "If Laney hadn't caught it, we'd have lost everything."

Joy’s cousin, Henry Kincaid, didn't stand. His interview had been the shortest, but his quiet voice now filled the space. “The Nature Center faced constant setbacks. Boundary markers moved. Windows broken. Construction delays from vandalism."

"Someone was threatening our contractor,” Ivy added. “They wanted us to give up. To decide it wasn't worth fighting."

The room had gone completely silent. Heath nodded to Joy. She stood slowly, hands gripping the chair in front of her.

"My problems started three days ago." Her voice carried despite its softness. "Beehive equipment moved. A gate latch that worked fine suddenly sticky. Things that could be explained away."

She paused, gathering herself. "Two nights ago, someone destroyed my goat pen. Fifteen goats scattered into the forest. One injured badly. My pregnant doe nearly drowned in mud."

Her knuckles went white on the chair back. "They could have died. All of them. Because I ignored the warning signs."

She sat quickly. Andre fought the urge to go to her. The memory of her scratched hands and injured feet, her exhausted determination, made his chest tight.

"No one's safe," someone whispered.

Rollo stood at the front table, moving to a whiteboard.

"Officer Holt's investigation revealed a clear pattern.

" His handwriting was precise, listing what Andre had documented.

"Testing phase first. Small incidents to gauge response.

Then escalation to property damage. Finally, direct attacks on livelihoods or people. "

"But why?" Ellen Cooper's voice cracked. "Who gains from hurting us?"

"That's what we're trying to determine," Andre said. "During interviews, several people mentioned receiving letters or calls about selling their properties. We need to know if others have had similar contacts."

"I got a letter last week," called out James Wasson. "Some company called High Timber Holdings. Asked if I'd considered retirement."

"Mountain Pure LLC sent me three letters about water rights," added Nancy Torres. "Said they'd make a generous offer."

More voices joined in. Letters about mineral rights. Calls about development opportunities. Vague inquiries about whether properties might be for sale.

Rollo added each company name to his list. High Timber Holdings. Mountain Pure LLC. Apex Development Partners. Green Mountain Ventures. Klamath Investment Group.

"All within six months," Joy said. "Different companies, different focuses, but the timing..."

"I can check something," Damien Fellows said, pulling out a laptop. Fingers flew across keys while the room watched. "They're all incorporated in Delaware."

"Within the same week," Gage added, reading over his shoulder. "Actually, within three days of each other."

The room erupted. Voices rose in anger and fear. This was real. Organized. Deliberate.

"This reminds me of something that happened on Fate Mountain before shifters came out to the public.” Rollo rubbed his weathered jaw, eyes distant. He moved to Damien’s laptop. "Andre, can you help with the projector?"

Andre helped set up the equipment while Rollo searched. Soon, grainy newspaper images filled the screen. Headlines from the 1970s made people lean forward.

"Crown Mountain Resort Project Collapses" "Developer Samuel Prescott Loses Fortune" "Local Opposition Defeats Resort Plans"

A photograph showed a man in a suit standing before pristine mountain views. Rolled blueprints filled his arms. His confident smile belonged to someone who'd never heard the word no.

"Samuel Prescott tried to buy Fate Mountain in the seventies," Rollo explained. "Wanted to turn it into an exclusive resort. When locals resisted, strange accidents started happening. Equipment failures. Fires. Missing livestock."

"My father talked about those days," Agnes Mueller said from the back. "Said Prescott believed the mountain belonged to him by right. That locals were stealing his vision."

Rollo clicked to another article. "When his project failed, Prescott blamed what he called 'unnatural forces.' Claimed the mountain was cursed by demons. He died in 1978, still ranting about his stolen legacy."

Silence fell as implications sank in. That was before shifters had come out to the public.

"But that was fifty years ago," someone protested.

"Ideas don't always die with the people who hold them," Joy said quietly.

Heath stepped forward again. "Whatever the connection, we focus on the present. The Security Initiative provides round-the-clock coverage. Every business, every property gets protection."

The logistics discussion that followed felt almost mundane after the morning's revelations. Patrol schedules. Phone trees. Emergency procedures. Necessary details that couldn't capture the fear in the room.

Andre found himself tracking Joy as people began to leave. She moved between groups, listening to worries, offering quiet reassurance. When Ellen Cooper grabbed her arm, voice high with panic, Joy's response was calm and steady.

People filed out slowly, reluctant to leave the safety of numbers. Andre helped fold chairs, keeping busy while the room emptied. Joy lingered too, part of the last small group near the door.

When only a handful remained, she approached him. The air between them shifted, charged with awareness.

"Andre." Just his name, but softer than her public voice. He set down the chair he'd been holding. Her guard had lowered, vulnerability showing in the set of her shoulders.

"I should have taken this more seriously from the beginning." The words came out quiet but firm. Her hand touched his arm briefly. "Could you come over to my place tonight? We could talk about the security initiative."

His bear surged with hope. She was inviting him in. Trusting him despite everything. "Of course. What time?"

"Six? I’ll make you dinner. My mom brought me steaks, and I’ve been itching to grill.”

"I’ll be there.”

She nodded, fingers sliding away. The loss of contact ached. She turned to go, pausing at the door to look back. Their eyes held for a moment before she disappeared.

Andre stood in the emptying hall. Six o'clock. Nearly seven hours to wait. The morning sun streaming through the windows seemed to mock his impatience.

"You heading out?" Heath asked, passing Joy on his way back in from the parking lot.

"In a minute." Andre grabbed another stack of chairs, needing the physical task.

"My niece Joy is a smart one. Sees patterns others miss."

Andre nearly dropped the chair he was holding.

Niece? Of course. The way Joy had hugged Valeria when she’d walked in.

They were cousins. Andre forced himself to stay cool.

His boss was his mate’s uncle… And he wasn’t showing any sign that he knew about their match on mate.com.

Andre wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

"She shouldn't have to deal with this,” Andre muttered, his face heating.

"None of them should." Heath's voice carried weight—professional responsibility and family protection combined. "That's why we're here."

They finished in silence. When the last chair was stacked, Andre headed for his truck. Nearly seven hours until he could see Joy again. His bear counted every minute.