The next day Luke wakes to his cell ringing.

"SSA Alvez," he answers, rubbing the sleep from his face. He doesn't know why he's so tired but puts it down to the strange dreams that had flitted across his nights.

"Oh Newbie, were you sleeping?" Garcia's bell like voice teases.

"Not at all," he yawns as he shifts the blankets tangled around his feet.

"Well perk up, Sugar. I have some news. I had a look at the files you sent through yesterday. Seems as though there's been an outbreak of 'bear attacks' down the west coast. There were three in late June, but over the last few months the frequency has increased." She tells him as she types quickly.

"How many are we talking?" he asks as he strides into the kitchen to set the kettle on the stove.

"You're not going to like this," she hums, a fluffy ended pen no doubt dangling from her lipstick stained mouth.

"Garcia, just tell me," he muses as he looks in the dish rack for a coffee cup.

"There's been a least seventy."

His hands still on the plates. "Are you kidding me? How have we not heard about this?"

The sound of the keyboard clacking fills the receiver once again. "The attacks happen in a new place each time, usually in sleepy back end towns, usually across state borders. Small town Sherriff Departments are not normally hooked up to a central database so it makes it difficult to catalogue case files once they come into the stations. A lot of them still use paper and only file the reports once the cases are closed," she tells him.

"Well that would explain why your magical ways didn't pick it up. And you said the frequency is increasing?"

"Yes. There's been at least fifteen in the last four days in Washington State alone. And that's the ones I can access from here. There may be more but that would mean combing through each towns current cases by hand."

He contemplates her suggestion. "Do you think BAU could be called in?"

She sighs, "You know the rules, Newbie. Prentiss will only make a move if the FBI is invited in. In this case we would need at least two of the towns to make the request because there aren't many connections. No finger prints or DNA etc."

He bites the corner of his lip. "I'll see what I can do. I'll try do some of my own research before I approach the Chief here and give him the option. I really don't want to be the one dragging everyone back from their recreational leave."

He picks up a mug and sets it down, the kettle boiling loudly in the quiet cabin.

"Alvez," Garcia says softly. "Be careful. Small towns are usually the ones that hold the most secrets. If there is someone behind this, they are not going to take kindly to you ruining their fun. Just - stay safe."

Luke offers her thanks and ends the call. After a few sips of coffee, he trudges back to the bedroom and unlocks the wooden side table. Sliding it open he reaches for his standard issue Glock and slides the ammunition into the chamber.

After showering and feeding Roxy, Luke heads towards Forks. The clouds are grey and thunder claps in the horizon. Peeking out of the windscreen he looks up at the sky. There was a storm rolling in and it didn't look pretty.

When he arrives at the Sheriff's Department he speaks to an older woman who is manning the reception desk. He explains his intention of meeting with the Chief and finds that Wednesday's are his day off. Even though she is older, she is swayed by his smile and offers the Chief's home address.

As he drives off, the rain begins.