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Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2

Page 58

by Mark E. Cooper


  “Craig Greenwood, manager of Area 51, at your service,” he said, shaking each of their hands. “How can I be of service to the city’s finest?”

  Chris raised an eyebrow. He had a very pronounced European accent. “You have an employee by the name of Rebecca Cairns, Mr. Greenwood—”

  “Craig, please.”

  “We need a word with her, Craig.”

  “I believe she will be performing tonight. Let me check. If you will follow me to my office?” Greenwood didn’t wait to see if they would or not. “Rebecca is one of our more popular acts. I hope there’s not a problem.”

  “Her name came up in the course of an ongoing investigation. I’m not at liberty to discuss details.”

  “Of course, of course, forgive my prying. Curiosity has long been a vice of mine.”

  Greenwood showed them into his office and offered to have a third seat brought in, but they declined to sit. They watched as he accessed his employee roster on his comp. He frowned at something he found and used his link to call someone.

  “Edward? It’s Craig... I’m not calling about that... yes, that’s fine. Listen, I have the police here with me asking to see Rebecca... no the other one. Yes, the one in the cat suit. Right. It seems she missed her last act. Why wasn’t I... oh, I see. No that’s fine. If she arranged it ahead of time with you... no, but I would like to be informed about these things.” He sighed. “I’m not saying that! Of course you’re still stage manager... and backstage manager.” He hit the mute button and rolled his eyes at Chris. “Edward is a little temperamental, but he’s too good to let go.” He hit the mute button again. “I’ve got to go Edward... Edward, I’ve got to go! I have every confidence in your choice. Bye.” He dropped his link back into his jacket pocket. “It seems that Rebecca arranged for some time off to take care of a personal matter. All above board you understand. She even arranged for a temporary replacement for her act. Marvellous girl; very reliable.”

  Chris grimaced. Everything had conspired against them on this case. Just for once she would like to get a lead and have it be where it was supposed to be. “Have you an address for Rebecca?”

  “I’m sure I do, but I’m not sure I should give it to you.”

  “This is a police matter, a murder investigation.”

  Greenwood’s eyes brightened with interest and he leaned forward eagerly to hear more. “A murder investigation? My, my, how interesting. I suppose if I don’t give it to you you’ll just get a warrant.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Ken put in.

  “Well then, in the interests of friendly relations with the police of our fair city, I shall find the address for you. A moment.” Greenwood turned back to his comp. A few keystrokes and the hard copy printer chattered. “There you are. May I help you with anything else?”

  Chris shook her head and slipped the paper into her pocket.

  “This girl filling in for Rebecca,” Flint said. “Is she on the premises?”

  “I believe she is. I’m sure I saw her backstage earlier, why?”

  “I’d like to ask her a few questions.”

  “Nothing easier, I can have her come here.” Greenwood reached for his link again.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure you have a lot of work to catch up on. If you point us in the right direction I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “I can do that. Go out of the office and back to where we first met. To the right of the stage you’ll find a door. Go through to backstage, turn left and you’ll see all the dressing rooms. Sharon Tolliday is who you’re looking for. Just ask someone and they’ll steer you right.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before they left, Chris had to ask one other thing. “You’re accent… it’s fake, right?”

  Greenwood chuckled. “Indeed not. I spent most of my childhood in England. My mother went back to live there after a messy divorce and took me with her.”

  She nodded. “You sound like that actor Charles Kelly.”

  Greenwood winced. “Please. Kelly is a poser—a complete fraud I assure you.”

  “Really?”

  “It is quite obvious to those of us who have lived within the Empire for any real length of time.”

  Another illusion shot down in flames. She thanked Greenwood for his help and left his office with Flint and Ken on her heels. Chris couldn’t help wondering what Greenwood’s story was. How had he ended up running a club like Area 51?

  “You think this Tolliday girl knows something?” Ken asked Flint as they retraced their steps.

  Flint shrugged. “Maybe not, but while we’re here we can at least ask what reason Rebecca gave for her absence. It might prove useful.”

  Chris had guessed Flint’s reasoning as soon as she spoke up in the office; she remained silent as they entered backstage, letting Flint lead. As Greenwood said, they found themselves in an area with many doors leading to dressing areas and storerooms.

  “We’re looking for Sharon Tolliday,” Flint said to the first person they met.

  The golden-eyed man eyed her and grinned. “You don’t want her, pussycat, not when you can have me.” He reached out to stroke her hair. “Maybe your two friends would like to watch—”

  Quicker than Chris could blink, Flint grabbed the hand and folded it into a painful wrist lock.

  “Ughh!”

  Flint’s face was calm, but her eyes burned malevolently. “My name is Flint, not pussycat. I think you owe my friends an apology.”

  “Sorry...” he hissed in pain as Flint applied pressure to his trapped wrist. “Sharon’s over there.” He pointed along the corridor with his free hand.

  Chris turned in time to see a frightened looking woman talking to a man all in black. There was something about him that… she gaped. “Ryder!” she yelled and gave chase as the man bolted out the fire door. “Grab Sharon, someone grab Sharon!” she yelled as she ran.

  She pulled her stunner and slammed out the door into bright sunlight. She spun in a circle, but she couldn’t see him. She dashed to the corner in time to scare the daylights out of a woman. The woman dropped her broom, raising her hands and cowering away from the stunner. Chris sprinted back the other way and around the other side of the club. Nothing. She headed back just as Flint burst out of the club and nearly got shot for her trouble. Chris lowered her weapon and holstered it.

  “He’s gone. I lost him!” she snarled angrily at Flint as if it was her fault. Chris shook with adrenalin rush. She wanted to hit something, but made do with kicking a nearby trash can. “We had him. We had the bastard!”

  Ken pushed Sharon through the door. “We’ll get him. Sharon will help, won’t you, Sharon?”

  Sharon Tolliday was a shifter; her golden eyes attested to that. Chris wanted to make Ken let her go—shifters were dangerous—but she didn’t dare show weakness. Besides, a more pitiable werewolf she had never seen. Sharon’s eyes darted about seeking escape, or Ryder, maybe both. Ryder had put the fear of the goddess into her with his questions, and now the police wanted to know the same kinds of things. She was ready to bolt.

  “Easy there,” Chris said, patting the air in front of the terrified girl. A shiver ran up her spine at the look of wide-eyed panic on Sharon’s face. “You’re okay... let her go, Ken.”

  “But—”

  “Let her go, Ken!”

  Ken stepped carefully away.

  Her fear for Ken eased a little. She kept her voice low and her words non-threatening. “You have to control it, Sharon. Don’t let the fear make you do something stupid. Attacking a police officer is a death sentence for your kind. Remember that.”

  “Stinking cop,” Sharon snarled. Her voice was deeper than it should be and sounded barely human. She was into the Change. “We’re not afraid of you.”

  We?

  Chris’ neck hairs were at attention. Flint moved, but Chris glared at her, and she halted. “Ease down girl, everyone ease down. We’re not here for you, Sharon. You know that, right?”

  Sharo
n panted and shook with the need to rip off her clothes and change, but she was listening. “Ryder...” she growled. “You want Ryder.”

  “That’s right. We want Ryder for killing some of your kind. Do you care that he killed some of your people?”

  “Not my people. They’re not pack. Not us.”

  Chris glanced at Flint wondering if she knew what the hell Sharon was talking about. Flint’s hand was inside her jacket gripping her needler as if caught in a freeze frame—the act of drawing the weapon stilled forever.

  Chris licked suddenly dry lips. A blood bath was in the offing unless she calmed things down. “Tell us what he wanted. Tell us where we can find him, and this is over. You can walk away...” Sharon’s fingers ended in claws—claws! “You don’t want to hurt us, Sharon. This will never be over for you if you hurt us.”

  “Hurt you? We’ll fucking kill you!” Sharon growled, but she seemed more in control. Her panting had eased, and when she clenched her fists they looked entirely human again.

  Goddess bless me, I didn’t see them shift!

  Her legs felt wobbly, but she kept her voice level. “Did he ask you about Rebecca? Maybe where to find her?”

  “Not Rebecca, he said he knows where she is.”

  “And does he?” Ken asked, sensing things were calming down.

  Sharon sneered. “How the hell should I know; he didn’t tell me, did he? He wants Jay, my Jay!”

  “You and Jason Kirkwood are an item?” Chris asked, thinking she might be able to use Sharon to get Jay to come in voluntarily.

  “We have a few laughs.”

  “Do you know Rebecca Cairns’ whereabouts?”

  Sharon’s eyes faded back to a blue-grey colour as Chris watched, but she wasn’t reassured. A shifter could go over the edge quicker than she could blink.

  “Rebecca said she needed to go out of town for a week or two; something about her dad.”

  “And you believed that?”

  Sharon looked at her scornfully. “Do I look stupid? I can read a newspaper just as well as you can, human.” She put years of contempt into that word. “Ryder is after Marty.”

  “But he wants Jason too. What did you tell him? Did you tell Ryder where to find him?”

  “I told him his Dad wouldn’t tell me where he is.”

  “But Ben Kirkwood doesn’t know where his son…” Ken began and then nodded. “You lied.”

  Sharon sneered. “I had to say something didn’t I? Ryder was going to kill me!”

  “And now Ryder will go after Jason’s father,” Flint said coldly.

  “So? He’s not pack either.”

  Chris shook her head in disgust. Shifter politics; who the hell but another shifter could understand it? She didn’t understand—or care to understand—what Sharon was going on about; not unless it affected her investigation. Hell, she didn’t care about human politics come to that.

  Sharon had set up Jay’s father as a distraction, but would Ryder take the bait? She frowned thoughtfully as Ken and Flint continued the questioning. Cappy would okay it if she asked for a stakeout of Kirkwood’s store, he was under pressure to produce some results, but was it worth the time and resources? She nodded to herself. It was worth it. They couldn’t afford to risk Ryder attacking Kirkwood. The media would explode with recriminations if they learned the police had known of the possibility ahead of time.

  “Who is your alpha?” Flint asked. “Give me a name, someone to contact.”

  Fear blossomed on Sharon’s face. “I can’t tell you that… you know I can’t! You’re not pack!”

  “Give me something, or I’m taking you in.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Chris said just then catching up. “We are not taking her in.”

  Sharon looked gratefully at Chris and a glimmer of a smile appeared on her face. Ken looked as puzzled Chris felt. He obviously didn’t understand why Flint wanted to take Sharon in.

  Flint glared angrily at Chris. “She’s holding out on us.”

  “But not about Ryder.”

  “I don’t care! She knows more than she’s telling.”

  “Do you?” Chris asked Sharon. “If you do and I find out later…”

  “I don’t, I swear!”

  She nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Ken moved to follow her.

  Flint said something to Sharon that made the girl back hard toward the fire door, and then hurried to follow Chris. She was fuming mad when she caught up and grabbed Chris’ shoulder to spin her around.

  “You listen to me,” Flint snarled in her face. “If you ever undercut me again I’ll have you removed from this case! Are you hearing me, Lieutenant?”

  “Let go of me,” Chris said quietly.

  Flint looked in surprise at her hand where it still gripped Chris’ shoulder. She let go, and stepped back a little.

  “Don’t ever put hands on me, not ever. This is my investigation, not yours. I don’t need your permission or sanction for whatever I decide to do… besides, we don’t need Sharon. Ryder is going after Jay through his father and we know where. I’m going to Cappy with what we know.”

  “Stakeout?” Ken asked.

  Chris nodded.

  Flint clenched her fists. “Ryder will know you’re there. I know shifters. He won’t turn up and we’ll lose Sharon. She’ll bolt, and I know she knows where Jay is!”

  “How?”

  “I just know.”

  She shook her head. “Not good enough. Ryder will go after Ben Kirkwood, I’d bet my pension on it. He’s arrogant like all shifters. They think nothing can touch them. Well I can touch them. He’ll go for it; I guarantee it. When he does, I’ll be there. If you want to go play with Sharon, be my guest, but don’t bother me with it. Ken and I are going back to Central. Coming?”

  Flint hesitated. “You’re wrong. I’m going after Sharon.”

  Chris started toward the car. Over her shoulder she said, “You’ll need transport. I’ll call a unit to pick you both up.”

  Ken hesitated, but then trotted after Chris. “We can’t leave her.”

  “It’s her choice, Ken.”

  “But Sharon is a shifter for the Lady’s sake. Flint could get herself hurt.”

  She cringed. Maybe she should stay and help… she shook off her sudden uncertainty. What was she thinking? Flint could take care of herself. If she knew shifters even half as well as she claimed, and Chris had no reason to doubt it, Flint would be fine.

  “You want to stay? Stay.”

  “You’re my partner,” Ken said, sounding a little sulky. “I’m with you as always, but just so you know: you’re wrong in this.”

  “Noted.”

  Back at Central, Cappy heard Chris out and nodded. “Approved, Lieutenant. I’ll sign off on the overtime. You can have Carlson and Baxter for your off-shift; They’ve been crying over losing the case. This should make them happy.”

  She nodded her thanks and made to leave his office, but then she turned back. “Just so you know the facts, Cappy. Flint doesn’t agree with this move. She thinks Ryder will sniff us out or something and not go for it. She might be right, it’s possible at least, but something tells me I’m right. He’ll go for it.”

  Cappy’s eyes narrowed. “Is she giving you a hard time? I told her any of that and I’d have her arse.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “You’re sure? Fed or no, she goes if she breaks her word to me. No one pisses in my pool without my say so.”

  She grimaced at his choice of metaphor. “I wouldn’t have said anything, but I think she might come to you over Sharon Tolliday.”

  “The dancer?”

  “Right. Ryder had her cornered when we got to Area 51, and was asking questions. Flint thinks Sharon is holding out on us. Jason is her cutie; she might know where he’s hiding. Flint thinks so anyway.”

  “And you?”

  She shrugged. “It’s possible… hell, she probably does and Flint is probably right—about Sharon anyway. Where we differ
is in how much it matters. I still think Ryder is an arrogant sonofabitch. He won’t care that we know what Sharon told him. He won’t hold back. Flint disagrees.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “In Interview One sweating Sharon over Jason’s whereabouts.”

  Thank the Goddess Flint had brought Sharon in without trouble. Ken’s silence in the car on the way back to Central had given Chris plenty of time to worry over her decision to leave Flint on her own. It was a bad decision. She could admit it now. She had let her annoyance with Flint and her loss of Ryder get the better of her. It was a cardinal rule of hers—and department policy—to never approach a shifter without backup. They were more than dangerous when provoked.

  “Okay, leave Flint to me.” Cappy checked the time. “You’re off shift. Are you planning to take first or second watch at Kirkwood’s place?”

  “I’m thinking Ryder will wait for dark… you think I’m right?”

  Cappy’s lips twitched. “Nice of you to remember that I worked the streets, Chris. Night works for me. Monsters like the dark, it’s traditional.”

  She smirked. “Yeah, traditional. I’m taking the night shift with Ken.”

  “Thought so. You better take yourself off. Mark isn’t going to be too happy when he hears.”

  “We have an understanding. He doesn’t mess with my work, and I don’t turn up at his meetings with a warrant.”

  Cappy chuckled and waved her out the door.

  * * *

  5 ~ Stakeout

  Chris eased the car around the corner, switched off the headlights, and coasted the last few hundred yards before slowing to a halt behind Baxter’s car. She could just see Jimmy’s silhouette in the front passenger seat as evening gave way to night.

  “My turn,” she said, opening her door.

  “Be my guest,” Ken mumbled around a ham roll. “Ask them if Flint is still giving them trouble.”

  “Save some for later. I’m not going to keep making them if you eat them all before midnight.”

  “Have a heart, Chris. If you hadn’t joined the Department you could have opened your own restaurant.”

  “Butt kisser,” she said with a grin and slammed the door.

 

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