They walked in silence back to the truck. Joe climbed into the driver's seat and held out his hand for the keys, which Sierra handed over mutely. Joe turned the truck around and tore down the dirt road like a bat out of hell.

Sierra had never seen him angry like this. If there was anything politicians were good at it was maintaining their composure. But Joe was pissed.

A few miles down the highway he eased off the gas and pulled on to the shoulder.

"Let me see your arm," he said.

Using a first aid kit they found in the glove box, Joe expertly cleaned the wound and bandaged it.

"You're going to need stitches," he muttered. "The closest emergency room is a few miles from here. You can tell them it was a raccoon. They won't ask too many questions. I can't go in with you."

"It's okay," she assured him.

"If someone recognized me-"

"It's alright," she said. "I understand."

Joe suddenly punched the steering wheel.

"Why did you follow me?!" he shouted at her. "Do you have any idea the damage you've caused?!"

"I thought you were stealing from charity!" she shouted back at him. "And kidnapping children! And running illegal bear fights!"

He stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Actually," he said between fits of laughter, "I am running illegal bear fights. You got me there. But I promise you the participants are willing."

He pulled the truck back on to the highway.

"So how did Brenda get out of her cage?" he asked her.

"She told me bad people kidnapped her."

He chuckled.

"I don't know what we're going to do with that conniving little girl."

"Do you have to keep her locked up?"

"Only during the full moon and a couple of days before and after," he explained. "The shifting can be spread with a bite, but it's also genetic, so all the kids get it. Most of them don't shift for the first time until after puberty, but it starts sooner in some. The young ones can't control when they shift, and they don't have control of themselves in bear form. So they have to stay locked up to keep people safe. But you try telling a six-year-old she can't go to the fight with all the other kids."

"And you're all...shifters? Everyone in that town."

Joe nodded.

"We call it Sleuth. That's the scientific term for a group of bears. We built it for the kids. People needed to be able to raise their children away from prying eyes. Social Services tends to question parents keeping their teenagers in a cage five days a month."

Sierra struggled to process all of this.

"What about the charity money?" she asked.

"It was my money," he replied. "I've got quite a bit more of it then the IRS is aware of. I funneled it into the charity, then hired one of the pack as the accountant for Camp Norwood. She takes a very big salary and uses the money to buy things for Sleuth. And then none of it links back to the Governor of Washington."

Sierra laughed suddenly, remembering.

"'A payroll advance for a camp employee with a sick kid.'"

"I told you it was an honest answer," he said with a sly smile. "You don't give me enough credit."

"Yeah well, there was an awful lot of omission in that 'honest answer'."

"What can I say? I'm a politician."

They both laughed at that. Joe shot her a look of amazement.

"You're being remarkably calm about this."

"What can I say? I'm an investigative journalist. I ask questions first and ponder the implications later."

They had reached the hospital.

"I'll have a car sent to take you home. I can return the truck to Enterprise," he said.

"Okay," Sierra said, and reached for the door handle.

"Wait," Joe reached for her hand. "You understand you can't tell anyone about this. They're good people in Sleuth...mostly. They're just scared. And they don't allow outsiders."

Sierra paused before answering.

"Joe, am I in danger?"

"I'm their Alpha," he assured her. "They wouldn't do anything without my say so. And I told them to let you walk away."

"Okay," she said, not entirely reassured.

"Sierra," he said, looking into her eyes, "I promise you, I won't let anyone hurt you. I will keep you safe."

He kissed her gently.

"You should go," he said. "Get that stitched up. I'll see you soon."

Sierra kissed him again before climbing out of the truck and walking in to the emergency room, hoping they wouldn't ask her how she'd managed to get scratched by a raccoon.