Page 101 of The Boy Who Cried Bear
He rolls his eyes, but only calls down to Anders, asking him to tell Dana we’ll be by in twenty minutes to talk to Max. Then he uncaps the thermos for me, pours out a cup, and says, “Tell me what you want to wear?”
I smile. “Are you offering to dress me?”
“I was offering to get out your clothing. But I can dress you, too, if it helps. Now, what do you want to wear?”
* * *
We’re heading to Dana’s when I spot Gunnar hovering beside one of the residences on our route. He waves me over. We head that way, and Gunnar motions again, clearly just wanting to speak to one of us. I glance at Dalton, who sighs and shakes his head before motioning for me to go.
“I heard Max is back,” Gunnar says as I approach.
“He is.”
“And he’s okay? That’s what I heard, but I wasn’t sure whether that means he’s really okay or he’s just the ‘not dead’ sort of okay.”
“He twisted his ankle escaping, and he’s obviously traumatized, but otherwise, he’s as well as we could have hoped for.”
“Good, good,” Gunnar murmurs, and then bites at his fingernail before shoving the hand into his pocket. “You’re going to see him now?”
“We are.”
“Can you tell him I said hi?”
“I’m sure you could pop by later and say so yourself.”
A low laugh. “Yeah, no. His mom isn’t going to want that.”
I ease back on my heels. “We haven’t caught his captor, but there’s no way it was you. You’ve been in town the whole time. I can tell Dana that.”
“You can, but it won’t matter. Even if I didn’t do this, I could do something, and she’s going to be in super-Momma-Bear mode now. I don’t blame her.”
“You should talk to her. Later. After we figure out who did this, and Dana has had time to get some distance.” I look up at him. “You’ve been good for Max. I understand why she’s nervous, but I really think you should work something out. Whatever works for her comfort level.”
“Me leaving town and never being seen again?”
I shake my head. “It’s about what Max needs. Give her time to see that and then negotiate.”
“If they stay.”
I nod, trying hard to ignore the clench in my chest that says we’ve failed. That our first child residents only lasted a few months before we screwed up enough to make them leave.
“If they stay,” I murmur, and then I say I’ll keep Gunnar posted, and I head back to Dalton.
* * *
I love my boss. Okay, being married to him means that’s a good thing. Or, maybe, it’s a good thing that if I love my boss, I’m also married to him, because otherwise, things get awkward. But I love him as a boss, too, especially when he understands my process and doesn’t push, however much he might want to.
I know Dalton wants to talk about the case. So does Anders. So does Yolanda. And others might want to weigh in, too. But I’m not ready for that. I’ve had time to recharge my batteries—as Anders says—and now my data processor needs more input to process.
I have thoughts. Many thoughts, all bubbling up now that I’m running on enough energy to open those floodgates. I’ve sifted through them, and I’ve realized I need additional data before I speak to anyone, even my boss.
I hope Max has recovered enough to provide that data. It’s always asking a lot to expect someone to talk to police shortly after experiencing a trauma. But until we’ve interviewed them, we’re spinning our wheels while the culprit is covering their tracks.
Dalton and I arrive at Dana’s apartment to find her with Max. Carson is spending the day with Mathias, and Max is ready to talk. Dana will stay here to be sure he’s safe and comfortable, and that I don’t push too hard. I’d expect that with any case involving a minor.
I start at the beginning. His story there matches Carson’s. Max had seen what looked like the bear-man, and he’d gone to his brother, wanting him to come with him for a closer look. Carson refused.
“He told me to stop telling stories,” Max says. “That I was embarrassing myself.”
