Santa Claws (BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance)

by Sasha Winter

  She followed him, heartily appreciating the view the whole way down the hall and into the sheriff’s office. She only fully realized what crime scene photos meant when he laid the folder out in front of her. She gulped, feeling the color drain from her face. Erik closed the folder slowly, reaching out to hold one of Elise's tightly clenched hands. She willed herself not to tremble.

  “You, uh….you don't have to look at the graphic ones. I know it's hard the first time. If it makes it any easier, you won't have to look at the remains in person. The coroner and I took care of that earlier today,” Erik said.

  Elise let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. This was just a case, she needed to get a grip. This boy needed help finding who did this to him, and she chided herself for acting childish.

  “No it's fine. This is just new, that’s all. I want to help. I've never archived any murder cases involving shapeshifters before, so I'm not sure I'll even be of any help. But I'd like to try.”

  As she spoke, she couldn't help but get lost a bit in his hazel-green eyes. The gold flecks seemed to dance a bit and they both realized at the same moment that he was still holding her hand.

  Her skin tingled, warm from his touch as she reached out to open the folder again. Inside the left flap were the case papers, what looked to be a detailed coroner's report and a small headshot of the boy. Elise felt a lump rise in her throat, but she swallowed hard and turned over the first picture.

  “He was found out at the old saw mill. Kids sometimes go out there to party. We're not sure what he was doing there by himself.” Erik debriefed her as she flipped through the pictures. Slowly, one by one, she looked at them. The blood and the carnage was slightly overwhelming to begin with but she relaxed after the first few and found herself looking, morbidly curious, for anything that stood out. She pulled out a small notepad from her pocket and started scratching out anything that came to mind as she pored over the photos. Erik continued his debrief, telling her everything he'd seen and the things he'd noticed at the morgue.

  A full hour later, Elise closed the folder, flipping the notebook closed as she slid it back into her pocket. A moment of silence brought a resolute sigh from Erik. He could see the shock and emotions flit across her face as she had looked, taking notes almost studiously until she was finally looking past the dead boy and into the scene. It was better than what he could have hoped for, and she wasn't running for the next bus out of town, so he took that as a good sign.

  Next, he gave her another folder—the few details he could find concerning the case from two hundred years ago. She read over it, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He knew what she had read and seen before she spoke. She reached for the other folder, fingering through the photos before pulling out the one he knew she was going for. Side-by-side, she compared the photo of the bloody necklace they'd found clutched in the victim's hand to an aged drawing.

  They were the same necklace, Erik had no doubts.

  “A copycat, then,” Elise said, pulling her notebook back out. “How would they have found this necklace? How would they have known?”

  Elise's questions were rhetorical, but Erik offered a response anyway. “It's all speculation at this point. We don't have any solid evidence.”

  Elise looked up at him, locking eyes long enough to make the color rise in her cheeks.

  “This is all so much. Interesting and bizarre and terrifying. What do you think, Sherriff? Do you think this was a shifter?”

  “Erik, please. And as much as I don't think it was, the evidence seems to point otherwise. Enough speculation, though. I suppose we should get you set up with a room. We've still got enough time to sweep the scene before dark.”

  Elise nodded, and they headed for the door.

  The hotel Erik stopped at so Elise could rent her room was a charming little building, a neat garden out the front with a little decorated Christmas tree and some wind chimes. Elise liked it immediately and the warm, welcoming reception area only made her like it more. Dot, one of the owners, immediately bustled around the desk when she saw Elise and Erik arrive and began fluttering about to get Elise settled.

  The room was decent sized, light and airy but cozy at the same time. Elise put her suitcase in the closet and freshened up in the bathroom before rejoining Erik and Dot back at reception.

  They bid Dot a warm farewell and Elise assured her that she would call down for dinner when she returned for the evening.

  “The saw mill is a bit further out of town,” Erik said as they drove past the town limits. Elise kept stealing glances at his profile, her inner romantic still swooning a little at the mixture of both his handsomeness and the authority being Sheriff gave him. “The scene is still preserved and we’ve had people keeping an eye on it while we waited for you to arrive.”

  Elise nodded, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter at hand. “It’s very unusual that so many details are almost identical to the older case,” she said, keeping her eyes focused out the window. “Most animal attacks are similar, of course, but if it was a person or a shifter then there are other signs, which were noted specifically in the autopsy report. This just doesn't feel right, there are too many differences and too many similarities for it all to be coincidental.”

  Erik nodded. “There were some strange coincidences, and some strange contrasts,” he agreed. “We’ll see what you think when we arrive.”

  The bright yellow tape was fluttering in the breeze when they arrived. Elise hopped out of the car, already intrigued, and didn’t wait for Erik as she hurried toward the group of people. He caught up quickly anyway. Erik greeted Matt, one of the youth deputy volunteers who had offered to stay and watch the scene in shifts with a few others.

  “All is well, boss. Had a few rubberneckers drive past hoping to see something gruesome, but we sent them on their way. They promised not to touch nothin', but I told them if they go tramplin' all over the scene how was we gonna find the killer? People aren't happy at all about his, boss. Not happy at all. It's all over town that it was a shifter who done it. There'll be a lynch mob with pitchforks knocking down doors if you don't figure this out before too long.”

  Erik patted the teen on the shoulder. Matt forced a smile. “You're gonna find 'em, right? Whoever did this.”

  Matt had grown up with the victim. While not exactly friends, in a small town you always know everyone else, and the delicate web of friendship and acquaintances meant everyone was practically family around here.

  “We're doing our best, Matt. Why don't you head home and get some rest? Once this nice lady here gets a look at the scene, we won't worry too much about keeping those rubberneckers away. This is Elise, she's a historian and shapeshifter expert.”

  Matt politely greeted Elise before heading over to his pickup, his buddies in tow.

  They quickly got to work, Erik pointing to the markers where the body parts had been found, articles of torn clothing and blood splatters. One dark, almost black pool of blood had mostly soaked into the earth, leaving the grass and dirt dyed a deeply-dark reddish brown. Elise pulled her small digital camera from her jacket pocket, trying to focus as she became more and more aware that she and Erik were yet again alone.

  He spoke softly to her, describing the scene as they delicately stepped around paw prints and brightly colored flags. He stuck close to her, sometimes brushing her arm with his own, sometimes tapping her shoulder to point her attention at some detail she may have missed.

  An hour of scouring the scene, Elise taking no less than five hundred of her own photos, brought the last rays of the dipping sun. The golden hue gave the crime scene an eerie feel. The dried, brownish blood looked more like mud as flies buzzed annoyingly about. Elise was looking at the pictures on the display screen as the last rays of light disappeared.

  Erik settled a hand low on Elise’s back and she shivered at the touch. “We should call it a day,” he said, showing no outward signs that he’d noticed the shiver. Elise briefly wondered whether she co
uld be that lucky. “If there is a shifter out there planning to kill again then we shouldn’t make it easier for them by staying out past dark.”

  His hand stayed on her back all the way to the cruiser. The ride was mostly quiet reflection, though Erik eventually cleared his throat and got Elise's attention.

  “I know I probably don't have to say this, but this is an active investigation, so no sharing anything. With anyone.”

  Elise nodded knowingly, still caught up in her thoughts. When they returned to town, he dropped her off right at the front of the small hotel. She hurried up the path and into the warmth, waving behind her to where Erik idled by the curb to make sure she got inside.

  Elise was exhausted. After eating the delicious spread Dot had sent up to her room, she settled in to bed, completely forgetting to check her emails and messages before slipping into a deep, if fitful, sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Erik told himself he wasn't feeling disappointed when he found the mystery woman hadn't responded to the message he'd sent her on his lunch break. He stared blearily at the computer screen. He'd been reading over a few reference books online on criminal pathology. He'd accessed various reports on animal attacks resulting in death, and he couldn't find anything close to the markings he'd seen on the boy.

  He typed out a quick update for the homicide investigators, careful in how he worded his suspicions because he knew that he tended to come across as way too defensive when talking about shifters in any circumstances involving law enforcement. His bias was something he'd rather keep to himself for obvious reasons. The murder had influenced the town’s attitude towards shifters in a negative manner so he wanted to be extra careful. He remained open to the idea that this could be the work of a shifter, not willing to rule anything out yet, but at the same time he seriously doubted it. His nose had never lied to him before and he didn’t believe it was about to start now.

  His mind raced, as usual, going over everything. Sighing, he got up from his desk to search out a snack. He was craving protein again, raw and bloody, and thankfully he had a nice thick steak waiting in the fridge. He seared it quickly, seasoning it with garlic salt and fresh cracked pepper, and didn't bother with a knife. Instead he shifted partially into his panther form, tearing strips off with his claws and chewing the steak with deadly fangs. He paused, realizing something as he stared down at his mangled steak.

  The bite marks didn't look anything like the wounds on the boy. Granted, he was comparing a half-cooked steak to a mangled corpse, but the logic was there. Shifting back to his human form, he rushed to his desk to retrieve the file containing the autopsy photos. When he was chewing, he was using his sharp, serrated back teeth. Not his front incisors or canines. The bite marks on the body looked to be mostly straight and flat, or deep and conical.

  He finished his steak with a knife and fork, not wanting to throw it away but also not wanting to get stuck in the similarities between the steak and the human flesh. He spent a while longer mulling over the photos and wondering what the hell was going on here.

  He showered before bed. He always felt a little dirty when he shifted back and forth and the only thing that could quench his urge to shift back to panther and meticulously groom himself was hot water and soap. Showering was much quicker and didn't leave that cloying, oily taste in his mouth.

  Afterwards, Erik slid into bed still damp, exhausted and wanting nothing but sleep.

  ***

  He was running in his panther form, stealthy and silent through the moonlit woods. The forest was quiet, most of the smaller game avoiding him for their own safety but even if it had been around he wouldn’t have chased it. Erik was after much bigger prey. He had a lock on the scent, a delicious scent that filled his panting mouth and consumed his every thought. He was close, so close that he could hear the racing heartbeat of the deer and the soft thump of hooves on grass over the other sounds of the forest. He pushed on, not caring as branches grabbed and caught at his fur as though trying to hold him back from his prey. Nothing was going to stop him, and suddenly rounding a tree, he spotted it.

  The elegant deer was grazing in the clearing, glowing in the light of the moon, and he felt every muscle in his body wind tight for the leap, jaw open and claws already extended.

  It was time to feast.

  Erik woke with a startled shout, drenched in a cold sweat and with his heart beating a rapid, panicked tattoo against his ribs. He swore to himself breathlessly as he sat up straight, panting.

  The dreams where he tore through the forest, so vivid he often woke up convinced he would have still-healing scratches and bruises from trees and branches, were nothing new. He knew that when he dreamed of hunting prey, following a scent or a heartbeat intently through undergrowth or across fields, it meant that the full moon was looming ever nearer.

  Erik’s control of his shifter nature was ironclad, that wasn’t in question. He had the utmost confidence in himself and his ability to continue to fly under the radar, but full moons had been known to lessen the desire to hide his nature. It brought the inner beast that so many people claimed shifters possessed much closer to the surface and made it much harder to control.

  The small plastic bottle of pills in his nightstand was cool against his slightly trembling fingers when he rummaged in the drawer for them. He held them in his hand, grounding himself with the feel of the hard plastic against his palm and under his fingers, as he headed for the kitchen to drop a couple of teaspoons of loose-leaf tea in the infusion ball he kept in the teapot. It took him a few seconds to light the burner under the teapot but after a moment or two the sweet scent of herbal tea began to settle his nerves.

  He took one of the pills with a hot cup of the tea and then returned to bed, hoping that the combination of the tea and the pill would allow him to get a little more rest. He finally let himself slip into a light slumber as the eastern sky began to lighten.

  Erik didn’t get much more rest, but he was still at the hotel bright and early to pick Elise up. She was waiting in the reception area, chatting animatedly with Dot about their holiday season plans and clutching at an old travel mug filled with coffee when he arrived.

  Her smile when she heard him come through the door and looked up in greeting was wide and genuine. “Good morning!” she said warmly. “What’s the plan today?”

  “I’ll bring her back later,” Erik assured Dot, who was watching them with a knowing expression. “We’re going to go to the museum.”

  Elise followed him out to the cruiser and as soon as they were seated, scents mixing in the closed environment, Erik felt himself calm a little. “I’m going to take you to see James Callahan,” he said as he pulled back onto the road and headed for the museum. “He’s the owner and curator at Sawmill Grove’s museum. I think we should speak to him about the necklace.”

  “Good plan,” Elise replied, visibly lighting up at the prospect of a museum visit. Erik was pleased to see that he’d thought right when he reasoned that she might be more comfortable in that environment than back at the station. First things first, though, and Erik drove to his favorite deli drive-through for a breakfast sandwich and a much-welcomed mocha. Elise ordered a caramel latte, and Erik couldn't help but notice the way her cheeks pinked when he insisted on buying.

  He curiously watched her text someone from the corner of his eye, noticing her smile. He wondered who she was talking to. He burned to ask her personal questions, to learn more about her, but this was work. He had learned better than to mix business with pleasure.

  The museum was set up in a beautifully restored Victorian on the outskirts of downtown. The sign in the well-manicured yard read ‘Sawmill Grove Historical House & Museum’. Erik parked the cruiser right out front, giving Elise a few moments to gather her camera and notebook before they made their way up the walk. The front door was propped open, inviting them inside.

  “Welcome, welcome!” A middle-aged bespectacled man greeted them heartily. “Erik, long time no see.”

&
nbsp; Erik shook the man's hand, readily introducing him to Elise. “James, good to see you. I'd like you to meet Elise Jackson. Elise, this is James Callahan, he's the curator of the museum.” Elise shook Callahan's extended hand, greeting him politely. “Elise is a historian specializing in shapeshifters. I hear you've got quite the collection going, care to show us around?”

  Callahan obliged, jokingly pointing out this had to be the first time Erik had shown any interest in the museum. Which wasn't entirely a lie, Erik had to give him that. History wasn't his strong point.

  Walking through the museum, Elise seemed distracted by the various taxidermied animals throughout the spacious ground floor. Mounted deer and elk heads adorned the walls amidst black and white photos and framed historical texts. She stopped to admire a small hawk, still yet lifelike with its wings extended, and Erik stopped as well.

  “Ah…” Callahan noticed her interest. “We have samples of most of the large species of fauna present here in Sawmill Grove.”

  Elise nodded, looking around as though trying to find the other stuffed pieces. There was a furrow in her brow, like something seemed to be missing but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her face cleared when she spotted a small, sleek bobcat. Erik followed her line of sight and noticed how its back was arched and its lips were pulled back in a snarl. The dead glass eyes sent a shudder down Erik's spine.

  “What about a panther?” Elise asked, looking around again. Erik, curious at the specificity of the question, wondered where she was going with the train of thought.

  “Got me there,” Callahan said. “We did have one but it was getting quite shabby with age and I sent it off with my assistant for repairs at the taxidermist a while back now. Now, right this way, I've got an entire room devoted to shapeshifters!”

  Callahan led them to the next room and Erik brought up the rear. He couldn’t help but smile at the slight bounce in both Elise and Callahan’s steps. From all accounts it seemed like Elise found the curator’s giddiness to be quite charming. Their enthusiasm was a touch infectious, and he found himself taking in his surroundings with a little bit more attention than usual for him when he found himself in the museum.