Candace Gibson, single mother of two-years old twins, had worked at an award-winning farm to table restaurant in Bantam.  She had recently earned a masters of Science in Financial Risk Management from the University of Connecticut and was mulling job offers and a move to Chicago at the time of her disappearance. She'd been mentioned on local news stations, but Caelan didn't recall her as he hadn't watched much news in recent days and she had been shuffled to the back of report schedules since one of media's own had been brutally murdered by a monster.

So it was that the recovery of her body was a small town's tragedy, and the talk with Candace's grandmother after she had just put the babies down (Candace's mother had died when she was young) felt magnitudes worse. Candace had died at the wrong point in the news cycle, and even someone like Belzer desperate to shunt the spotlight away couldn't get her into anything more than a gruesome 'in other news, the body of a waitress has been added to growing numbers of confirmed monster attacks on civilians across the country.'

It was horrible. Candace's grandmother, who had raised that girl to be every bit the strong, smart, proud woman she was, had known from Caelan's grim expression what the news was and had backed away from him, telling him to come in, frantically reaching behind herself for a chair that wasn't there. She collapsed on the floor as he stepped inside and quietly closed the door then sat beside her.

"Them and their babies was supposed to take care of me," she sobbed. "They're supposed to be crying for me someday out in the sunshine . I ain't supposed to be crying for them, not these types of tears." She thumbed tears from her eyes. "Candace especially was gonna turn this family around. She had it hard enough as it was, having no mom. And those angels sleeping sound don't know what hell they'll be waking into. . . I'm not supposed to do this again. How could I ever do this again? Why can't the good lord have taken someone whose already done all she can in this world?"

Caelan didn't have an answer for her, none that would matter and none she would remember even the next hour from now. He set his hand on her shoulder. "Reckon there's still more for you to do," he said, and gave her a card with Belzer's name and contact information even though he knew it'd make better use as a coaster. He asked her about Candace, convinced her to give him ten minutes of her time before he left her alone to make phone calls and arrangements. She took his number as well; he swore to keep her updated on the monster that did this. She wanted details, but Caelan kept those sparse, saying she was killed by a vampire and hadn't survived the turn.

"Can't they come back though? Those vamps in the movies sure do, and they're alright. Candy loved Twilight."

Caelan shook his head. "Sorry, ma'am. It don't quite work like that. The vamp has got to turn her before she's dead- feed her some of his or her or its blood. Candace got fed too late."

"What's too late?"

"Days, at least. We won't know how long exactly until the coroner's and medical examiner's reports come back, but she was already rotting. What came back wasn't her." Gently, he put his hand on her teary cheek and looked her in the eyes. "I don't want you staying up at night thinking maybe she could've been saved, maybe she could've been brought back. Truth is what came back would've walked inside your lovely house and eaten those precious babies. It might not even reach your house. It might have eaten someone else's babies on the way. There are no memories of you or them or her life left. It stopped being Candace in the days she spent dead. There wasn't anything alive in there for the vampire's blood magic to save."

"You're sure?" she asked. He could hear in her voice she wasn't the type to come out swinging against common sense.

"Candace was a beautiful, educated young woman with a fulfilling life ahead of her," he said softly. "The thing that came after would've caused more grief than you feel right today in this moment. My whole life's been spent around knowing what's worth saving and what's gotta be put in the earth where it belongs. Unfortunately my team and I couldn't get to Candace soon enough."

*

Jorge had managed to keep Evita from storming her way onto a crime scene, but that was about the extent of it. The pair were as close to the cabin as one could possibly be without permission to be on site. Evita was sitting cross-armed in the car, frowning up at the forest path made visible now that dozens had trampled their way through the woods to the cabin. Jorge was pacing outside the car, sending nervous glances back over his shoulder at the stern little woman waiting within.

When Caelan's truck pulled back into the sight, the sheriff coming out looking as worn and exhausted as Jorge had ever seen him, the analyst jumped and pointed excitedly. Evita exited the vehicle with an audible 'hrumph!' and crossed the ground quicker than the much closer Jorge, who quickly became nothing but a bobbling, "I'm sorry, bossman! I can't say no to a widow!"

Caelan frowned. "That how she phrased it?"

Evita dropped her hands to her hips. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Awfully unfair of you, Evie. Taking advantage of a young pup like that."

"Ain't my fault he thinks I'm cute."

Jorge's face turned bright red. "Uh," he stammered. "Soo, yeah, I do but that has nothing to do with it. You're a widow and you lost your husband and then your sister in law and I was feeling guilty."

"Uh-huh," Caelan and Evita said together.

"Seriously, you guys!" Jorge ran a hand through his dark hair, fidgeted with his superman tee underneath his jacket. "You're very lovely, Mrs. Vilkas. I'm here to assure you I'm quite professional."

Evita thumbed toward his boss. "I buy it when he sells it. It's okay, perrito." She turned toward him, ran a hand along his cheek and patted it. If it were possible for Jorge to find another color more eager to explode than the Pompeii Red his cheeks had become, he achieved it in an instant. "You have other skills."

With that, Evita Vilkas was all business, more so than usual, perhaps as a result of becoming the new alpha (probably what she hoped was a temporary position, given she never challenged Calico's authority and Mrs. Finn had always preferred to pull strings rather than to be the puppet- she would've surrendered it to Evie in a minute). "These are trying times, Harlowe, but I need to know what progress has been made on behalf of Cal. What have you found?"

The sheriff waved a hand at the beaten forest path. "I'm working a few cases, Evie. As much as I would like to find Cal, there's a lot going on at the moment. I do believe Miss Finn to be alive, maybe some kind of information will surface on her whereabouts soon. It's unusual to see a child gone missing, then the mother, and not a body to be found."

"You can't just look for Marcy." Evita clenched her teeth. "I love her as much as anyone else, but she would want you to find Cal, probably before herself."

"May be so," Caelan admitted, shrugging. "So let me tell you what I'm thinking. It requires more resources than I can spare or convince anyone to spare."

"Are you saying I'm going to have to put the pack on it?"

"Miss Finn has made Talon Pack quite wealthy as years go by," he said. "If a woman of an illegal business-"

"Motorcycles and smart investments aren't illegal, sheriff."

"If a woman of an illegal business finds herself in trouble, perhaps it's best that some of her own illegal funds pay for her rescue. Regular authorities may not have the time or money to get her out quickly and safely."

The warmth of Evita's eyes had fled. "Are you saying you aren't gonna look for her at all?"

Caelan sighed. "I'm going to tell you what I know as it relates to what I've learned. It is my professional opinion that if you truly want her home safe and sound as quickly as possible, it's going to happen off the books. The books have turned to other pages. I'm mighty sorry, Evie, but you won't be getting far down the channels unless the relationship is stronger. I'll help as I can but unless you can prove she's relevant to the bigger picture . . . "

"The channel is strong to Marcy though, right?"

Caelan chewed his lip. "Think Mrs. Finn and Miss Davins will end up near each other, I do. But she would be incidental and leads only pursued should the well run dry on Miss Davins."

Evita rocked back on her heels. "Where you thinking she is?" Even Jorge, coming back into earthly skin tones, looked curious.

The sheriff was half-listening, half trying to figure a way to get Jorge and Evie on their merry way so he could concentrate on other issues. "Her son got taken near a body of water. Miss Finn disappeared in a bath tub. Not sure how much Marcy or Mrs. Finn spoke with you about their wanderings down south, but Marcy got mixed up with an encantado."

"A what?" Jorge asked.

"A shapeshifter of a kind. It's a dolphin."

Evita laughed. "I'm sorry," she said. "A dolphin? There's no way my Calico would let herself be kidnapped by Flipper."

It wasn't uncommon for weres to have a certain level of preference and disdain for other species. One, they tended to gravitate toward areas where their animal was naturally found, making secrets easier hidden but interaction relatively limited. Two, they tended to think whatever they turned into was the best; anything else was second rate. Werewolves? Ask a Weretiger what he thinks about those droolly mutts.

"There aren't a lot of them, far as I know," Caelan said. "It's an elusive community, in part because they're said to have a kingdom under the waves. Folks don't come back from there, not too many. Mostly you have encounters on land, rivers in the Amazon. Charming man for a night- not careful, girl might go missing."

"And Marcy got mixed up with one?"

Caelan nodded. "She dated one while she was working for Calico at the museum. And then ate him."

Evita gasped. "Dios mio! You think his family is out for revenge?"

"Seems to be that way. Problem is, we've got no connection. Whatever name he gave Marcy was false, or at least there is no record of an actual person going by that name. Whatever remains were left after the wendigo took control was left in the wilds of the amazon. There's no way to locate the bones, especially with the rate of decomposition and number of potential animals that could have picked at it, let alone if his family figured out the location long before we did."

"Oh," Evie said. Jorge looked like he wanted to rub her arm comfortingly, but he kept his hands to himself.

"It's a dead end, far as the packs association is concerned. I can push for it to be explored, but my next suggestion would be to find out Mrs. Finn's involvement with this man. He clearly knew he address. She may very well have known his, or known his contact info. Now, Marcy being a dear friend to me and Calico being hers, I haven't pressed this angle. You know what'll come out if I give the command to dig, Evie."

Evita turned away, running her hands through her hair, trying to compose herself. "I do," she said finally. "I understand. We can't be losing the pack over this. There's no pack without Cal, but we can't destroy her legacy. She wouldn't want that."

"Especially considering we don't know if she's alive or dead."

"You think she's alive?"

"I think she's under the waves," Caelan replied. "I don't know where that is or who to contact. I think Miss Davins will be led back south at some point in time, and that it may be possible to rescue both of them. However, I don't believe our resources will be spent on Miss Finn without more information from you, Evie"

"I'm not letting your snouts any further in the door than they have been," she responded with a smile at Jorge. "'Cept for you, perrito. You come as you please. We'll show you how the big dogs run."

"Don't play with him, Evie," Caelan said, and with that gave Jorge a push up the road. The analyst started walking, casting fleeting looks back at Evita. Talon Pack's alpha waved him off. "He ain't a big boy. Can't quite handle himself."

"Hear he's learning from the best," she said, shouldering up against the sheriff as they watched Jorge trot through the forest alone. "If he needs a few additional lessons, you know where to find me."

"I doubt you'll be available," he responded. "Already wondering if there are any direct flights out of Hartford, aren't you?"

"Bring him to Brazil, Harlowe. He's no Stephen, but he'd fun for a time."

"He's loyal. Don't go breaking his heart."

"Oh, I mend them, cariño. I'm more worried about you breaking something."

How right she was.