Streamfield Shifters: Hide & Seek

Chapter Three

Early the next morning, I was sucking down the dregs of a kiwi-banana smoothie in the kitchen when Dad's phone rang. Rachael looked up from the farm animal game on her phone, expression intense. True to her word, my cousin had finished all of her homework and thus, my aunt and uncle were honor-bound to allow her to accompany us.

Dad's responses consisted of "huh", "yes", and "okay". He pulled the phone away from his ear and tucked it into his pocket. "Well, that was Detective Merrickson. He's at the Grabowskis' right now. Are you girls finished with breakfast?"

I nodded and stood up to collect our plates. Rachael grabbed her glass and took one long pull at the straw. The remnants of her mixed berry smoothie disappeared like magic. Damn, the way that girl put away food you'd think she was a teenaged boy shifter. When we were younger, my brother Richard ate enough to put a sumo wrestler to shame.

Once the kitchen was clear, we trooped outside to Dad's truck and drove off.

The Grabowskis lived on the southside of town, so it took us about twenty minutes to get there. I spent the time staring out the window, thinking about what we were about to do. This was a delicate situation that we were stepping into and I didn't want to say or do anything that would offend the parents.

The same could not be said of Rachael; my cousin was bold and brazen—a wolf to the core. God only knew what could potentially come out of her mouth.

A huge black SUV with "Streamfield Police" scrawled in white across the doors was parked in front of a modest two-story home painted robin's egg blue. Dad pulled the truck in behind the SUV and we climbed out. Detective Merrickson waited for us in the Grabowskis' driveway, hands in his pockets. Standing next to him was a young officer who looked fresh out of the academy. Behind them, peering out from a living room bay window, were two drawn and worried faces: Jimmy's parents.

"Terry," Detective Merrickson greeted my father. "Ladies," he said, nodding to Rachael and I. "This is Officer Charlie Endel. He requested to be present for today's search."

Officer Endel looked as if he were trying to exude authority, but only succeeded in appearing slightly constipated. "Jimmy's my nephew," he said, pausing to run a hand through sandy blond hair that was, I realized, the same shade as the boy's. He glanced over his shoulder at the figures in the bay window. "You'll have to excuse my sister and brother-in-law," he continued. "They're just so overwhelmed."

"That's quite understandable," Dad replied. He looked around the front yard, then began to pull off his shirt. Rachael and I took that as our cue to start removing our clothes, too.

"Hey—hey!" Officer Endel exclaimed, his pale face turning as red as a fire truck.

Hm? I paused in unzipping my pants. Was there something we were supposed to do first, like sign some paperwork?

"What are you doing?"

Dad slipped his shirt back on. "We can't shift with clothes on," he told the strawberry-faced young man. Next to me, Rachael bit back a giggle. I glanced at her sharply and nudged her with one foot.

"You can't?" he choked out, turning so that he faced away from Rachael and I.

"It's okay, Charlie," Detective Merrickson said, patting the young man on the back. "I'll explain it to you later. Why don't you guys change in the backyard. That's where Jimmy was last seen, anyway."

Dad nodded. "C'mon, girls," he said, gesturing for us to follow.

Rachael and I glanced at each other; my cousin rolled her eyes. Did the officer really think we were going burst out of our clothes, or something? What a waste if we did!