by Zoe Chant
And, apparently, like not being a creepy stalker. Although normal police work sometimes prompted his bear to go alpha on other humans, Levi had never gotten fixated on a woman on the job like this. Usually it was asshole men who tripped his instincts.
And fine, he wasn’t happy with the idea that she might have a boyfriend. But bear or no bear, he did sincerely hope that she wasn’t going to have to deal with being shot all by herself.
He’d see her at the station, at least. “Danny, we all wrapped up here?” he asked.
Danny nodded. “Time to set up a perimeter in case he comes back, then it’s all over but the crime scene techs.”
“Great. Let’s get to the station to interview the witnesses.” And give Maria her purse.
Which had a lingering scent around it—maybe she kept her perfume bottle in it, or maybe she just carried it so much that it had caught the scent from her skin. Whichever it was, he knew he wasn’t going to forget the vanilla-and-spices scent that was Maria very quickly.
Not that he’d be mentioning that when he took her statement.
* * *
Maria eventually realized that she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
After being antiseptic-ed and bandaged, she’d been taken to the police station. Laura had needed stitches in her leg, so she was at the hospital while Maria was waiting alone for someone to come take her statement.
It was now almost four in the morning, and the adrenaline had definitely worn off. She was having to work hard to keep from falling asleep in her chair in the little interview room—interrogation room? It had the one-way mirror along one side, but maybe what they called it depended on why you were in there. She hadn’t seen another living soul in the last hour, or she’d have begged for a cup of coffee.
While she’d been waiting, she’d gone over and over the night in her head—she wished she had her purse so she could’ve taken notes, but Detective Hale surely had more important things to be doing than running over to the station with it.
The shooter had definitely been waiting for them—he’d fired the moment they came out onto the steps and were clearly visible from the grounds. He’d been firing at both of them, not just Laura—he’d kept firing after Laura shifted and flew away. He’d had some kind of rifle, but Maria didn’t know anything about guns so she couldn’t say anything more specific than that.
And it had definitely, one-hundred-percent been Roger Sutherland.
Remembering names and faces was a big part of Maria’s job, and she was very good at it. She’d seen Sutherland a couple of times at the small protests the anti-shifters sometimes held at political events, and she’d carefully studied his picture along with other members of his organization. There was absolutely no question in her mind that it had been his face she’d seen illuminated under the lamp.
Now all she had to do was wait for someone to show up so that she could tell them all of this.
Finally, at four-thirty AM, the door opened. It was a police detective she didn’t recognize.
Maria tried to hide her disappointment that it wasn’t Detective Gorgeous. All that was important was giving someone her statement, she reminded herself.
“Ms. Hernandez. I’m Lieutenant Moyer, and I’ll be taking your statement.”
She did venture a tentative, “I was speaking to two other detectives earlier—Hale and Sadowski—”
“They’re tied up at the crime scene right now, miss,” said the lieutenant. “Now. Tell me what happened.”
Maria did, carefully and with as much detail as she could remember—which, considering she’d had over an hour to go over it in her mind, was a lot.
After she was finished, Lieutenant Moyer examined his notes. “You identified the suspect while he was running away.”
“That’s correct.”
“In the dark.”
“His face was lit up by one of the lights on the grounds.” Maria was suddenly feeling some misgivings.
“But if he was running away, he would have been facing away from you, correct?”
Maria shook her head. “He didn’t know where I was. He was running at an angle from me.”
“So you could only see part of his face.”
“More than enough to recognize him.” Maria fought to keep control of her temper, which was not at its best after a night of violence and waiting around. “I assure you, Lieutenant, I know that it was Roger Sutherland. I’ve seen the man before several times, and it was him.”
“And he’s part of a—” the lieutenant examined his notes—“‘militantly organized anti-shifter hate group?’” Maria could hear the air quotes.
“That’s correct.” She kept her voice even. “They’re called HAS—Humans Against Shifters. They don’t think shifters are human beings. If you like, you can go to their website and see what sort of beliefs they’re trying to spread.”
“We’ll be sure to look into that.” There was a definite thank you for your time note to the lieutenant’s voice now.
He didn’t believe her. He was going to walk out of here and ignore her statement, or give it a bit of lip-service investigation, and Sutherland was going to get away with it.
But before he could go on, the door opened. Detective Gorgeous—Hale, Detective Hale—was on the other side. “Sir, I had a few questions for Ms. Hernandez, when it’s convenient.”
“Go ahead, Detective, I was just leaving.” The lieutenant stood up, closing his notebook and snapping the recorder off. “Ms. Hernandez, I’ll have this transcribed and you can sign it when it’s done. Thank you for your time.”
“Of course,” Maria said, instead of don’t you dare leave, I know you don’t think I’m telling the truth!
It would have been satisfying to yell it after him, but it wouldn’t have done anything and Maria knew it. So instead, she stayed quiet while the door closed behind Lieutenant Moyer and Detective Hale took a seat at the table across from her.
“I brought you your purse,” was the first thing Detective Hale said, and set it on the table between them.
Maria blinked, surprised. “Oh—thank you!” She hadn’t expected to actually get it back tonight. She took it, and automatically checked her phone. One text from Laura: Finally done with the stitches, off to the police station to give my statement. Call yourself a car when you’re done and use my account, and I don’t want to see you in the office tomorrow.
She realized the detective was looking at her, and she’d completely ignored him to check her messages. “I’m so sorry,” she said hurriedly, putting her phone back in her purse. “That was rude. I just wanted to check and see if Laura—”
“No problem, I understand.” The detective pulled out his own notebook. “Ms. Hernandez—”
“Maria,” she interrupted him, and felt herself blush. She hadn’t meant to say that.
But Ms. Hernandez had just sounded so—formal and wrong coming out of his mouth.
He paused, then smiled a slow, gorgeous smile. “Maria.”
Was it her imagination, or did he linger over the word a little bit? No, it was definitely her imagination.
“Maria, I just wanted to ask a few follow-up questions based on what you said at the crime scene.” The detective was flipping through his notebook. “I know you’ve probably already been over this with the lieutenant—”
“He doesn’t believe me.”
The detective paused. “I’m sorry?”
Maria hadn’t meant to interrupt, but clearly the fact that it was four-thirty in the morning was catching up to her. She was committed now, so she plunged ahead. “I told him that I saw Roger Sutherland of Humans Against Shifters running away from the Capitol with a rifle, but he doesn’t believe me. I can tell.”
The detective set his notebook down. “Sometimes we have to ask questions in a detached way, and that can make it seem like we don’t sympathize with someone’s point of view,” he said cautiously.
“He didn’t ask me any questions about Roger Sutherland, about H
umans Against Shifters, whether I’d had any contact with him before, or anything. He only asked if I was sure I’d seen him, how could I have seen him if he was running away in the dark! He didn’t believe me.” Maria sat back, indignant. She was suddenly a lot less tired.
“All right.” Detective Hale picked up a pen. “I’ll start asking some of those questions, then. How well do you know Roger Sutherland?”
“I’ve never spoken to him, but I’ve seen him at rallies and protests, probably three or four times close enough to get a good look at him. I started recognizing him during the campaign—you get to know the people who always show up at those things.”
The detective nodded. “Were any of those rallies ever violent?”
“Someone threw a rock at the senator once. We never figured out who it was.” Maria frowned. “Not on the same level as shooting at her, of course.”
“Were they frightening?”
Maria looked away. “Sometimes. They yell threats, you know—I’m going to kill you like an animal, I’m going to shoot you out of the sky, all you bitches are going down—I apologize for the language, but some of them don’t like that the senator’s campaign staff was mostly women.”
“No need to apologize.” The detective gave her a warm look—not quite a smile, but somehow reassuring anyway. “That’s a terrible thing to say, though. And it sounds like there have been threats of violence.”
Maria nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. Every time. And I can definitely say that Roger Sutherland was yelling alongside everyone else. I’m really sorry, though, I can’t remember anything specific that he said. I wish I could.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The detective made notes. “At the scene, you suggested that Mr. Sutherland wouldn’t have acted alone.”
“Yes.” Maria was sure he wouldn’t have just gone off half-cocked on his own. “After the senator took office last month, I spent some time researching hate groups, to see if any of them would be likely to cause us trouble. Humans Against Shifters was number one, and Roger Sutherland is their leader’s number-one man. He’s been arrested for assault and battery, disturbing the peace—he gets his hands dirty so that George Lisle, the leader, won’t be implicated.”
The detective nodded, frowning down at his notebook as he wrote. He really was unfairly good-looking, Maria thought helplessly. He had the kind of presence that took up space—he seemed to fill the room. The pen looked tiny in his big hands. And his hair was curling over his forehead, which crinkled when he concentrated. The way he frowned over his notes was just…captivating, somehow.
She should not still be sighing over this man who was just trying to do his job, but since it was almost five AM, she gave herself a pass. She could sigh all she wanted tonight, and then probably she’d never see him again—or if she did, it would be in a work context, alongside the senator.
Working as a state senator’s assistant, Maria had learned that she could control pretty much any inappropriate emotion if she absolutely had to. And working as a state senator’s assistant…you had to.
She was good at it, and she liked being good at it. It was satisfying to be the cool, collected person who quietly took care of business and didn’t react when people did or said outrageous things.
Most of the time.
Sometimes, it would have been nice to yell at an obtuse police lieutenant or ask out a gorgeous police detective.
The detective in question finished writing and closed his notebook. “Now I have a serious question. Do you think they’ll try again?”
Maria felt like she hadn’t been looking where she was going and had walked right into a wall. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again.
That hadn’t even occurred to her. What an idiot—she’d been so focused on escaping this one situation that she hadn’t thought about the fact that Humans Against Shifters definitely wanted Laura dead.
And they weren’t the type to stop if they didn’t get what they wanted.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded faint to her own ears. “Yes, they’ll probably try again. I can’t think why they wouldn’t.”
Oh God, they were going to have to be on the lookout constantly. They were going to have to hire security—would Laura be safe at home?
She wouldn’t. It would be easy to follow her home from the Capitol building. They’d probably already done it. They could be waiting there for her right now.
“I have to call her.” Maria was already digging urgently for her phone. “She can’t go home. Maybe we could get her a hotel room—use an anonymous car—she’s not going to be able to go to work! We’ll have to use a service entrance, maybe. And what about public speaking—what about all the protests—innocent people could get hurt!”
“Maria. Listen.” Detective Hale’s voice was firm and insistent, impossible to ignore.
He leaned forward and met Maria’s eyes with a steady gaze. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you—either of you. This is our job, not yours. I believe you when you say you’re in danger, and I can take steps to get a safehouse set up for you and the senator until that’s not true anymore. I promise we will protect you.”
“But your boss didn’t believe me,” Maria pointed out, all of the possibilities still running through her head. “Won’t he have to approve something like that?”
“Whether he believes you or not, he knows that there was an attempt on your life. It’s his responsibility, just as much as mine, to keep you safe until we catch who did it. So don't worry about it. All right?”
“I don’t think I can just not worry about it, but I—I trust you to take steps to protect us.” Maria let out a long breath. For the first time that night, she felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
She wasn’t going to cry in a police station interview room, though. She took a deep, careful breath, and settled down. Focus on the important things. “What do we have to do now?”
* * *
Maria Hernandez, Levi was quickly deciding, was an incredibly strong woman.
She’d seemed like she was going to break down for a second—she clearly hadn’t thought about the possibility that the shooter could try again, and she’d been starting to panic.
When Levi had reassured her, she’d slumped in her chair, and he’d been ready to tell her that he could step out, get her a drink of water or coffee or whatever she wanted, so she could have some privacy to cry or pull herself together.
What he’d really wanted to do, of course, was come around the table and pull her into his arms, telling her that it was all going to be all right. Her vanilla-and-spices scent was strong in this little room, and it was making his bear sit up and take interest.
He’d had to work hard to focus on keeping the interview professional, which was never, ever a problem for him otherwise.
She was just so clearly exhausted and frightened, and also so clearly desperately holding herself together. But despite all that, she still managed to give a thoughtful, detailed analysis of the situation.
And this time it was the same. Rather than melting down, she sat back up, her shoulders moving as she took a deep breath, and asked what they had to do next.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Levi repeated. It was like she didn’t even realize that she was the civilian here, and it was his job to protect her. “I will get a safehouse set up for you and the senator, and we’ll drive you both there so that you can get some rest. We’ll look into your case as best we can, and probably we’ll be asking you some more questions as it develops.”
Levi would make sure that he was one of the detectives asking questions. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t dismissing her observations out of hand.
“Let me go start setting that up,” he continued, “and I’ll see about getting you your statement to sign and seeing where the senator is. Can I get you anything? Water, coffee?”
She smiled suddenly—he hadn’t seen her smile yet, he realized, although given the circumstances that wasn’t much of a
surprise. It was warm and brilliant, and like an idiot, he just wanted to stay here and look at it forever.
“Water would be great, thank you,” she said, and it took Levi a second to remember that he’d asked her a question, and should probably be on his way to get the answer about now.
“Sure thing,” he said, and hustled out of the room.
In the hallway, he rubbed a hand over his face. What was up with him tonight? He was turning into Danny, wanting to mack on a victim just because she was beautiful and smelled nice…
…and was brave, and smart, and careful, and strong…
Snap out of it! He went to get her water.
She smiled at him again when he brought it to her, and he said, “Enjoy,” before leaving again.
Enjoy? he thought, once he was safely away. You’re not a damn waiter.
He had to shake it off, though, because it was time to go talk to the lieutenant.
* * *
“Think about it.” Lieutenant Moyer steepled his fingers on his desk. “She’s seen this guy yelling at protests, she was just staring at his picture a few days ago, she’s scared of him. When she sees a guy running away from the scene, maybe same color hair or something—bam, she knows it must be him.”
“She’s our only witness,” Levi argued. “We can’t just ignore her statement because it might not be true.”
“Some assholes who don’t like shifters? Come on.” The lieutenant shook his head. “I’ve read profiles of these guys. They’re not violent.”
“There has to be a first time.”
The lieutenant raised his eyebrows. “Hale, I understand that this line of investigation is attractive to you, due to your own situation, but it’s not going to come to anything.”
“My own—sir, if you think that I’m biased toward this possibility because I’m a shifter myself, I assure you that that is not the case.” Levi had to struggle to keep his voice down. “I only want to make sure that our single eyewitness lead is pursued.”
“Whatever your own position is, Detective, my opinion is the same,” said the lieutenant. “We’ll send someone out to do a routine interview, see if the suspect has an alibi, but I doubt it’ll come to anything. It’s a scared girl thinking she saw something she was already scared of.”