Blackstone Ranger Guardian - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,15

noise and din of the main bar, all by himself.

Change didn’t happen overnight, after all.

But he was working on it. Bit by bit.

As he took a sip from his beer, the man who strode into the room caught his attention. His bright green gaze immediately landed on Krieger.

“Chief,” he greeted as Damon Cooper walked over and sat on the chair across from him.

“Krieg.”

They said going through a traumatic event could bring people together. If that were true, then he and Cooper couldn’t possibly be closer than if they were actual blood brothers from the same womb. Both of them had gone through a lot—together and apart—and sitting here, in the outside world was a miracle for them both.

There were very few people in the world Krieger would do anything—and he meant anything—for, and his former commander was one of them. Though the chief didn’t know it, he’d saved Krieger’s life more than once, and he continued to pull him from the darkness by simply being there.

“What’s this about?” Krieger asked.

Damon shrugged. “I only know what I told you.” He glanced around the empty room. When a particularly loud shout from the riotous group of girls from the outside pierced their little sanctuary, the chief winced. Krieger felt The Demon—Damon’s bear—complain furiously, but it didn’t explode in rage. It was from The Demon that Krieger’s own bear took its cue, remaining still inside him.

Damon raised a dark brow but didn’t say anything. Krieger took another sip of his beer.

Yes, change didn’t happen overnight, but by working hard, he had come far—much farther than he’d ever have gotten by himself or staying locked up all alone.

Hopefully, he would be good enough. Soon. The change would be complete, and he could finally be whole again. Just like Damon. He looked forward to that day. Dreamed about it almost every night. Dreamed about her.

Heavy footsteps approaching made them both go on alert, but when they saw who it was, they relaxed. Tim Grimes, owner of The Den and polar bear shifter, lumbered toward them, a mug of beer in one hand.

“Can I top you off, Krieger?” Grimes asked, eyeing his half-empty mug.

“Nah. I’m good.”

The polar bear shifter placed the mug in front of Damon before settling himself on the empty chair on Krieger’s right. “All right then. Did you tell him why I called, Chief?”

“Briefly,” Damon said. “But why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Grimes stroked his bushy white beard with his thumb and forefinger. “My friend Oscar’s been missing for three weeks now.”

“Did you report it to the Blackstone Police Department?” Krieger asked.

Grimes let out a loud huff. “His nephew did, but they got nothin’ so far. Besides, I don’t trust cops.”

Krieger drummed his fingers on the table. “Then why come to Damon?”

“Oscar’s a raccoon shifter,” Grimes replied. “Likes to spend time up in the mountains. Sometimes he goes there for days.”

“A couple of the rangers have seen him in the past,” Damon said. “But nothing recently.”

“The peak is his favorite place,” Grimes explained. “Says he likes the quiet up there.”

Krieger could relate to that. “Hmmm. I do recall a raccoon scent that pops up every now and then. Could be your friend.”

“Do you remember when you last scented him?”

A couple of months ago, before he started venturing down the mountains, he probably could have. But now, his memory was filled with scents of the various shifters, hikers, and even his coworkers. “Can’t say I do.”

“Are you sure he didn’t just pack up and leave?” Damon asked. “Or do you suspect something else?”

Grimes’s nostrils flared. “Oscar’s not like that. Sure, he gets in his cups sometimes, but that’s because he lost his mate a couple years ago and hasn’t been the same since. Going up to the mountains helps calm him down.”

Krieger’s hands curled into fists under the table, and it took all his control to pull his bear back from reacting. They knew what that was like, after all.

Grimes continued. “Could he have decided to leave Blackstone on a whim? Possible, but unlikely. According to his nephew, his trailer’s untouched. Clothes and keepsakes are there, nothing missing.”

Damon’s eyes sparked. “Accident then?” His brows furrowed. “I can ask my men to keep an eye out. Though if it’s been three weeks, we would have found a trace of him.”

Krieger was intrigued now. He patrolled his area religiously and thoroughly. He would have found a lost—or dead—hiker or shifter in that time. “Foul play?”

The implication sent the tension in the room spiking. If someone