Chapter 4

Zane

" N ot liking this, Zane," Sebby says, looking at the scorched area. "I can smell gasoline, man."

"Yeah, me either," I admit. "I smell it too. This could've been really bad."

We're in a new section, not too far from the sawmill, with the creek running between the two. This area is a bit harder for us to navigate with regard to the reforestation, because a lot of the trees aren't ready yet, but we need the oaks for an order, so Mr. Stephens chose us to come in and ‘do our thing' as he said, because he knows we'll be careful. Finding this small patch of burned thatch is troubling, especially since it could've taken out several hundred acres of trees that were recently replanted.

"Want me to run up and advise him?" Sebby asks.

"Naw, let me do it. I'll see if he wants us to keep working here or move to another site," I reply.

My mind is still spinning, trying to figure out what's happening when I walk into the office. Spying the receptionist, I ask, "Is Mr. Stephens available?"

"Let me check for you, sir," she replies.

I turn my back on her; I'm too old for someone who is barely legal to be eye-fucking me. Besides, her scent tells me she's not my mate, and I'm not about to get tangled up with someone who isn't, especially since mixing with humans is frowned upon. It still happens, and I won't say I've never taken one to bed, but it's no longer my focus.

"He'll be right down," the receptionist says.

"Appreciate it."

I sit in one of the chairs facing the hallway that I know Stephens will come down and studiously ignore the woman trying to get my attention. So far, she's unbuttoned her blouse another two buttons, fluffed up her hair, leaned over her desk to show her cleavage, and reapplied lipstick. I caught all of that in my peripheral, but none of it was enough to get me to talk to her. Desperation does nothing for me, and she reeks of it, which is sad. There are so many men here, some human, most shifters, who would probably find her attractive.

"Zane?" Stephens' voice has me looking up to see him standing in front of me. I apparently zoned out while waiting, which isn't surprising considering I was trying to ignore the primping happening in front of me by the receptionist.

"Hey, Mr. Stephens," I reply, standing to my full height and holding out my hand.

I have a lot of respect for him. He took over the family business and instead of resting on his laurels, so to speak, he started several innovative programs, including the one that gives the ‘scrap' wood to a local woodworker. He didn't even ask for anything from the things the man sells. Told him that he wanted our community to thrive as a whole. The company is active in the county's Habitat for Humanity project as well, providing not only the lumber, but also crews to assist in the actual building.

After we shake, he says, "Follow me. I suspect I know why you're here."

"Probably so," I reply.

Once we're in his office, he motions me to sit as he goes behind his desk. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Water?"

"I'm good but thank you," I tell him. "So, we've found several places with scorched earth, sir. Thinking someone's going out under the cover of darkness and trying to start a wildfire."

"Several other crews have come to me with the same thing," he states. "I think the only reason they haven't been successful is because of how thoroughly the area is watered after y'all replant."

"Maybe so, but we haven't had any rain in several weeks now and that concerns me," I admit. "What if the jackass hits an area none of us have worked yet? It could be a massive disaster, likely with casualties."

He sighs while running a hand through his thinning hair. "Honestly, I'm not sure what the solution should be. I don't know why anyone would want to start a fire."

"To hurt the company? I know the sawmill has a backlog of trees they're working on getting planked, but a fire could wipe out hundreds of acres and not only displace the employees, but also the local wildlife."

"Hopefully, the investigators I have called in can figure it out, Zane. In the meantime, I'm asking all the crews to keep an eye out, report any areas that you find, and continue with your task. Whoever it is definitely isn't thinking clearly, because laying off employees or even worse, having some die because of their behavior is simply unacceptable."

"Sir, the company does so much for the community as a whole, whoever it is probably has a personal beef. The problem with that to me is if they do, they should be man enough to come directly to you. You're not an unfair person, but you can't fix what grievances you don't know about."

"Appreciate that, Zane. My grandfather started the company with a few premises in mind. Build a company with a solid moral compass, treat everyone fairly and honestly, and do what you can to make your community a better place. I'd like to think we've been successful in that endeavor. Most of our employees have been here for years and some are now approaching retirement that started way back when my grandaddy opened the doors."

He chuckles while shaking his head. "Man, those were the days. I wasn't even a teen but with a family business, child labor wasn't even a factor, you know? I'd take an order on the phone, walk it back to the sawmill, then get on one of the machines after the trees had been debarked and get those trees cut down into the planks that were needed. Now, most of it is done by machine, with men who oversee each stage of the process. Times sure have changed."

I grin and reply, "I remember doing most of the cutting by hand, Mr. Stephens, and I still like doing it from time to time, although the guys on my crew give me shit for it."

"Well, those young'uns are funny like that, aren't they?" he asks, grinning. "They're all about the phones and this app or that app. They text instead of calling, then wonder why they feel so isolated. So many of them have zero social skills, which is one of the things I don't like about this new technology era."

"Yeah, half the time, I forget I have my phone on me and I'm constantly having to be reminded to charge it," I say, chuckling. "It's just not the first thing I think about in the morning, you know? Whereas some of my guys get on and ‘check their notifications' before they even get out of bed."

He bursts into laughter, because I know I sound disgusted, and I find myself joining him. It is funny how Alex and Sebby are with their phones. They post memes they've found, and play games, or take crazy ass selfies of themselves by the trees they've cut down.

"Your guys may do that, but I gotta tell you, your team is one of the best this company has, Zane. All of y'all have ‘the eye' when it comes to what needs to be done, and I appreciate the fact that you don't just rely on the crew that goes through and marks what to cut."

"If they've missed a viable tree, we're going to cull it, Mr. Stephens. That's our job, after all."

"Well, you're damn good at it. Now, I know you're busy, but I appreciate you taking the time to come and tell me what y'all have found. Keep it up, we'll get to the bottom of it."

I stand and hold out my hand once again for him to shake. "Thanks for seeing me, sir. I know you're busy."

"If I ever get too busy to speak with an employee who has valid concerns, then I'm not doing my job effectively. That's my primary goal, to ensure that the employees have what they need to efficiently handle their tasks. At the end of the day, we all profit from that."

"Yes, we do."

With that, I leave his office and head back to my crew, my thoughts swirling at the possibility that someone is trying to destroy the company.

The big question is… why?

It's been six months since I spoke with Mr. Stephens, yet we're still finding the burned spots on nearly every site we work. The investigator that the company hired has come up empty, and each crew chief I've talked to has been as concerned as my team. Most of us are now watering not only the newly planted trees, but the surrounding area as well. Thankfully, we have a creek that flows into a huge lake, which is what the water crew uses when they fill up their tanks.

"Fuck, another one?" Alistair yells the question in an irate decibel as he walks through the forestry where we're working today, looking at the destruction with disgust written across his face.

We're now walking the area where we are slated to work, scanning the damage so we can document any issues we find and send them to Mr. Stephens as well as the arson investigator. The problem now is it's been very dry and even with every crew soaking the areas they work, there's still a lot of forest left that could catch fire and burn.

"You know what to do," I remind him, checking a tree that wasn't marked that qualifies to be cut. "Alex, let's see if there are more that should be taken," I state, putting an ‘X' on the tree and moving to the next.

This will slow us down a little today, but I'd rather things get done right the first time. Another thought comes to me, and I call out, "Make a note of how many trees aren't marked, because it seems that the front team is slacking or simply being lazy."

Despite the cooler air, once we start working, the climate gets hot and sticky, so I strip down to my t-shirt, setting my flannel shirt and jacket in the bed of the truck. Grabbing my water bottle, I take a long drink, then grab my ax and walk back into the woods so I can start doing the face-cuts which will help speed things up once the rest of the trees are checked.

Another fifteen-hour day behind me, I'm relaxing on my back deck with a beer, grateful that the next day is Sunday. We may be a bit behind on the grand scheme of things, putting in overtime on Saturday, but Mr. Stephens won't allow anyone to work on Sunday. His philosophy is that everyone needs a day of rest. Pounding at the front door has me turning my head but when I hear Alistair yelling, I drop my bottle onto the table and rush inside to open the door.

"What's going on? Why do you look like you do?" I ask.

He's standing there, his face ashen, and I note that his pulse is pounding in his neck. In fact, he appears to be struggling not to shift, which has my own hackles rising. "The… the cubs…," he starts, stammering before emotion overtakes him and he bends over, tears pouring down his face.

Crouching, I pull him into my arms and ask, "What about the cubs, Alistair? Talk to me so I can help."

"They're missing," he murmurs, emotion causing him to sound like he had to force those words out.

My arms tightening around him in a stranglehold, I ask, "What do you mean, they're missing?"

I need more information so I can know how and where to start searching in order to help find them. They're old enough now that they've managed to shift back and forth several times, and on multiple instances they've wandered away as they explore their surroundings as cubs are known to do. Inquisitive little investigators, always needing to put their noses to the earth and follow every scent they sniff. If they were human, they'd still be infants; however, because they're shifters, they grow faster and are closer to a toddler at this point.

"Misty put them down for a nap, then she decided to take one too since she's pregnant again and it's hitting her hard. Y'know, taking care of those two rascals, keeping up the house, cooking for everyone, and all."

"She doesn't have to cook for all of us," I remind him.

When Alistair and Misty got together and she realized the rest of us were single and were either eating out or heating up frozen dinners, she decided that she was going to ensure we ate well since what we do for a living is hard, backbreaking work. Plus, being shifters, we have a high metabolism, so most of us were somewhat scrawny. Thanks to Misty, we're all hale and hearty now, but if it's too much on her, I'll put my foot down and nip it in the bud.

"Zane, she doesn't mind cooking. Hell, she had me put in a double oven, as well as that fancy stove, remember? It's something she loves to do and it's how she shows she cares."

"Then maybe we need to hire someone to help her with the kids or the house?" I question, trying to figure out a solution so she's not so fatigued. "But first, what happened?"

"Okay, so she went and laid down after she was sure the kids were sleeping, set an alarm for an hour so she could be awake before them, and fell asleep. When her alarm went off, she noticed that the house was really quiet, unreasonably so, therefore, she checked their room, and they were gone. Their window was open and outside, she found two distinct sets of paw prints. So, we know they shifted then left, but she's looked everywhere around the surrounding property, and she can't find them. Since it's light out, she didn't dare shift herself because her coloring is so unique, but right now, I have two missing cubs and a wife who is going from hysteria to rage since she has to wait. Zane, what do we do?"

Taking a deep breath while I process everything he said, I say, "We track them as far as we can, and once it's dark enough, we shift and use our enhanced abilities to find them. We don't have long, but once we get them back, we're going to have to figure out a way to keep them from pulling this again."

"Yeah. Misty's beating herself up right now and it's not her fault. I'd never blame her anyway, but she's definitely feeling like shit. Says if she had been awake, she'd have heard them take the screen off."

"Brother, you've got your hands full with those two," I reply.

He chuckles, which is much preferred over his distress and nods. "Let me go tell Misty the plan and get the others to give us a hand."

Nodding my head, I reply, "I'll be ready."

And heaven help anyone who may be involved in them missing. While I suspect it's just an innocent prank, the fact remains that someone has been starting small fires near our homes. What if they're involved in this for some nefarious reason we haven't discovered as of yet?