Shadow of the Moon Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  "I got to admit I didn't expect to see you this soon," he commented.

  "Come on, Ralph. You know me better than that," I scolded him.

  He shut the gate behind me and turned to me with a frown. "I thought I did until I heard you didn't have enough sense to call for backup," he returned.

  I rolled my eyes. "There was no way I could tell I was going to go up against that many guys."

  "And that's why should've called for backup. If you don't know what trouble you're getting into then don't get into it alone," he insisted.

  "Well, it turned out pretty okay," I argued.

  He snorted. "Ending up in the hospital is-shut up!" The last part was directed at the dog. Its growling had grown louder and it pulled at its chain to get me. "What the hell is with you today? You know Selena!" Ralph shook his head and returned his attention to me. "Never seen him act this angry before."

  "Speaking of angry, you'll see some real anger if you don't tell me where my car is," I warned him.

  He waved off my threat and shuffled down the long row of cars that were parked against the chain-link fence. "Don't get your panties in a bind. Your car's just down the row here."

  "Ya know, I could have you sued for sexual harassment for mentioning my lingerie," I teased.

  "You could, but then I'm not giving you your car back," he quipped.

  "Touche."

  Found my car parked between a red Chevrolet convertible and a pickup truck that looked like it'd been through World War II twice. My beat up old station wagon wasn't exactly a beauty, either. The interior and exterior were made from that fake wood that was so popular in the seventies, and the seats were covered over to hide the holes in the cushions. There were love marks made by keys left by my admiring suspects and convicts. The inside smelled like wet dog on rainy days and an old woman's house on hot days. To top it all off, the headlights barely worked.

  Ralph tapped the toe of his boot against one of the headlights. "I could ticket you for these," he commented.

  "But you won't because you love me," I returned. I opened the driver's door and slid into the seat. In a moment I had the car roaring to life. "That's my baby. You up for a little adventure?" I cooed.

  Ralph came up beside the car and leaned into the doorway. "If you'd take my advice, and you won't, you'd stay out of this mess."

  I blinked at him in my best innocence impersonation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Your impersonation needs work, and I'm talking about you checking out this double murder case. The chief'll get mad at you if he finds out," he pointed out.

  "If he finds out," I quipped. I grabbed the inside door handle and Ralph moved aside so I could slam it shut. I rolled down the window and gave Ralph a wink. "See you later."

  "If you have a later," he retorted.

  I rolled my eyes and waved at the closed gate. "Mind helping me make a clean getaway?"

  He pursed his lips but walked back down to the gate and opened it. I drove through and gave him one final wave before I hit the road and into a whole mess of trouble.

  CHAPTER 7

  I stopped off at my apartment to change my clothes. The druggy was nowhere in sight, but that was all right. I had a murderer to find.

  I slipped into some street clothes and drove to the club district. My target was the Wolf's Den, and my hunch was right that after a few days most of the area investigation was over. There was a strip of police tape in front of the alley, but nobody was around to guard it. The front doors of the club was closed and nobody stood out front waiting in line. The gorilla must be put in his cage during the day and let loose to harass the teenagers at night.

  I parked my car on the opposite side of the street and got out. The sidewalks had a few bumbling drunks who wandered from strip club to strip club, but otherwise the foot and car traffic was light.

  I hurried across the street and ducked under the police tape. Even in the daylight the place was a little creepy. There wasn't a sound as I strode down the narrow alley. No birds, no alley cats, nothing. It was almost as if they knew something wasn't quite right and stayed away. Something I should have been doing if I had more sense and less curiosity, but when you had sex with a murder suspect it was hard to not involve yourself in the case.

  The alley was unchanged from that night two days ago except for the chalk outlines of the bodies. They were a little squiggly from clumsy feet tromping on them, but were otherwise accurate. I knelt on the ground beside the outline of the second guy killed and traced my hand over the ground. There was just the usual pebbles and bits of glass and trash. Nothing special-wait a second.

  I leaned forward and squinted. There was something on the ground. I pulled out a plastic bag with a small pair of hair pliers, and snipped the thing from the ground. I held it in front of my face and smiled. A hair. Not the brown mousy hair of the dead guy, but a dark black hair. That didn't mean anything in itself, but I was sure I could find a matching hair at my place and get a double comparison for the labs.

  I tucked my treasure into the bag and slunk along the ground searching for anything else. There were a few bits of displaced gravel, some shoe prints, but nothing that really stood out. That didn't discourage me. It was a miracle I found what I did.

  I stood and pocketed the baggy. My attention was attracted to the back door of the Wolf's Den. The door was shut and the light overhead was off. I walked up and tested the knob. Locked. I jiggled the knob, but the clasp wouldn't slide out. Must have had something extra on the other side. That didn't mean I didn't get the door open just a hair, enough to give some daylight between the door and the frame.

  A whiff of something swept over me. My eyes widened and my nostrils flared. I let go of the knob and stumbled back. I clutched my chest. My heart beat loud and clear. I stared at the door, it stared back acting innocent, but I knew better. Something was behind that door that was trouble. I couldn't put my finger or nose on what I smelled, but it raised my hackles. It was like a warning, a scent put there to keep intruders away. That meant that whoever that guy was who ran out of there that night, he was pretty desperate to break into the place and take that moonstone, whatever the hell that was.

  I shuddered and ran a hand through my hair. After that whiff of whatever it was my nerves were shot, so I was done with the crime-scene detective work for today. I strode from the alley and had the bad luck to run into a familiar face on the street. Detective Howard.

  Howard Talbot was a good guy, but he couldn't tie his shoelaces if his life depended on it. Even worse, he always liked to help out others who were tying their own shoes and it usually ended up in a tangled disaster of feet and laces. He was the guy you wanted to bring home to your mom, but regretted it the minute he tripped over the dining room rug and crashed into her china hutch.

  Talbot was nearing forty with slick-backed brown hair and a lopsided grin ever-present on his face. He was moderately handsome except for the faraway look in his eyes. That was like a window to his soul, and they showed not everybody was hope up there. How he ever managed to become a detective I don't know. Maybe it was affirmative action for the mentally impaired.

  We crashed into each other around the front corner of the Wolf's Den. I fell to the ground, but Talbot was a little bit more broad-shouldered than me and weathered the storm. He only stumbled back a foot and looked down at me.

  "Selena! What are you doing here?" he questioned me.

  I climbed to my feet and brushed myself off. "Just wondering if you needed some help."

  He gave me that lopsided grin and wagged a finger at me. "You know you're not supposed to do that. The chief already gave me instructions to chase you out of here if I found you."

  "That's fine, I was just leaving," I replied.

  I slipped around him and to my car, the bag of evidence still safely tucked in my pocket. Like I said, a nice guy, but in this profession those guys finished last.

  My first stop was my apartment. I rummaged through the sheets and pillow
s until my keen eyes caught on something on the mattress cover. Black hair. Another baggy, another piece of evidence. I took my little bags and drove uptown to the industrial district a few blocks from the river. That was where the police labs for the whole city were located. The lab building was a big, white concrete building with seven floors and a shit-ton of windows. How they kept all those things clean in the smoggy air of the industrial district I don't know. Maybe a fleet of window washers.

  I parked my car and stepped out. My nose wrinkled. The smell of the area was usually bad, but that day it was downright rotten. It smelled like somebody took a skunk, a rotten egg, and mixed them together with some stink bombs to create a cocktail of stink that should've been branded too au de hell.

  I walked into the building. The foyer took up most of the bottom floor and in the middle was a circular guard desk. I flashed my badge and was waved through. This wasn't my first time here and I went directly to the third floor. That was where they ran the tests for hair follicles and skin samples. Each floor had a couple of hallways that intersected and created large rooms filled with white, broad tables and stools hugging close to microscopes.

  I walked into one of these labs and noticed a short figure on one of the stools. The person was hunched over a microscope trapped in admirable concentration. The mischievous side of me decided this picture was too perfect not to ruin, so I ducked down. Like a shark from a cheap special effects movie I meandered between the tables until I reached my target. I slunk around the corner of the closest table and edged closer to the man's back. Two feet. One. I reached out.

  "I was warned you'd be here sooner rather than later," the man spoke up.

  I frowned and straightened. "Was it the chief?"

  The man spun around and revealed himself as a thirty year old guy with dirty-blond hair and a stoic demeanor. He didn't yet have the spectacles that graced most of those in his profession, but he squinted at me like he needed them. This was Jim Rambert, a specialist in identifying human remains through various small body parts.

  "Yes, and you're a little late. He called me a couple of hours ago and I expected you to be here shortly after that," he commented.

  "I had some samples to collect for you." I pulled out the baggies and held them out to him.

  Jim took them and held them in front of his face. He glanced past them and to me. "Is this a personal or professional request?"

  "Both."

  "You know I'm not supposed to do one of those, and I know I'm not supposed to be helping you get deeper into this case," he reminded me.

  I shrugged. "Then say it's a favor and that it's neither."

  He rolled his eyes. "Favors don't really work that way," he argued.

  "Come on, Jim, I'm begging you here," I pleaded.

  He pursed his lips, but spun around and opened my bags. "Fine, but there better be a damn fine steak dinner in this for me."

  I moved to stand beside him. "With extra helpings of mashed potatoes," I added. Those were his favorite.

  Jim took each hair sample and put them on glass slides. "So what am I suppose to be looking for here, anyway?" he asked me as he bent over to inspect the first hair under the powerful microscope.

  "I want to see if they're a match to each other, and if they match anything in our criminal database," I told him.

  "I don't know about that second request. That's a little more dangerous than a steak dinner is worth," he commented as he put the second hair under the scope. "But I can tell you they're definitely identical." He looked up from the microscope and to me. "I know about the crime scene at the Lupine street, but where'd this other one come from?"

  "What about matching the hair to the database?" I requested.

  Jim pursed his lips. "If you don't want to tell me just say it. As to the database, that'll take a day. We're a little shorthanded with all these caseloads coming in. Seems you're not the only precinct wanting favors."

  "Call me when you get those results," I requested as I turned to leave. I paused and glanced over my shoulder at Jim. "Oh, and you don't happen to know where they dragged those bodies out of the river, do you?"

  Jim returned his attention to his microscope and shook his head. "Yeah, but your chief already told me not to release that information to you."

  "Come on, who's it going to kill to tell me?" I persisted.

  "I heard it almost killed you the other night, and I'd rather not have that on my conscience," he argued.

  "Come on. You know you want another steak dinner," I persisted.

  Jim lifted his head and turned to me. "I'm not going to-" He paused and frowned. "You don't look so good. You feeling okay?"

  I frowned and looked at myself in the beakers. He was right. My face looked a little red, and suddenly the room felt a little too warm.

  "I'm probably just tired. Woke up too late, and this place smells worse than usual. They put sulfur in the smoke stacks today?" I asked him.

  Jim shook his head. "Nope, just the usual junk, but how about I drive you home?"

  I shook my head. "I'm fine, just need to get some fresh air."

  He slid off his stool and began to pull his jacket off. "It wouldn't be any problem. I don't live-"

  "I said I'm fine!" I snapped. He started back and his eyes widened. Even I was caught by surprise by my own quick temper. I sighed and shook my head. "I'm fine. Really. I'll just head home and see you tomorrow."

  He raised an eyebrow. "I can call you with the results tomorrow," he offered.

  I grinned. "Don't think I'm done trying to get those body locations out of you. I'll see you tomorrow, whether you like it or not."

  CHAPTER 8

  I left Jim with that little bit of warning and left the lab. I stopped at my car and wiped my sleeve across my forehead. My whole body felt like it was slow-cooking in an oven. I tilted my head back and glared at the setting sun. Maybe it was this damn heat. I slid into my seat and turned on the car. The air conditioning blew on, and I leaned into the nearest vent. The cool air blew over me, but it didn't do anything for me.

  I sat back and pulled on my shirt collar. Was it just me, or was the air getting warmer? If it was just me that was all that mattered because at that moment I felt hot. It wasn't the usual summer heat, either, but a kind that started between my legs and slowly burned hotter and hotter inside me. I felt like I was being warmed by a pair of strong, sensual hands that I couldn't brush away. They slid up and down my legs, covering my body in their erotic touches.

  The heat from the hands pooled at my breasts. It felt like fingers massaged my pert mounds, and they swelled and pushed against my bra. I could actually see my shirt tighten against the strain of my larger breasts. I squirmed and bit my lip. My fingernails dug deep into both sides of the seat. The heated hands slid along my inner thighs and brushed against the bundle of nerves between my legs. I leaned my head back and panted. These feelings were so deliciously wrong, and yet they felt so right. I wanted more. My muscles tightened and bulged. Immense physical power flowed through me. I felt my fingers stretch and pierce the seat cushion. My tongue flicked out and brushed against my sharp, lengthened canine teeth.

  A knock on my window started me and I whipped my head to my left. A bum stood outside my window, and he grinned at me with a toothless smile. The labs were close enough to the river to attract some of the rats.

  He held out a dirty hand. "Got some change?"

  The spell was partly broken. I looked away from him and raised one of my hands. The fingers were longer than they should have been, and the nails were sharpened to a point while I always cut mine square. My breasts still bulged against my shirt. I was still changed, but some of the heat had fallen back. It still bubbled deep inside me, waiting for another chance to seduce me.

  "Change, ma'am?" he pleaded.

  "Y-yeah, sure," I replied. I fumbled for some loose change in my cup holder and handed it to him.

  He tipped his sweater hat to me bowed his head. "Much obliged, ma'am."

 
"N-no problem," I stuttered.

  I put the car into gear and sped off down the road. My frantic mind tried to grasp what was happening to me. This sensual warmth was pleasing, but it also scared the shit out of me. I couldn't understand what was going on, I only knew that I liked it and wanted to fall into its embrace and never have it let me go.

  I wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue. That wasn't my mind thinking those stupid thoughts. It must have been the work of this stupid heat. I had to fight it. I had to win! I had to—

  I had to get home. The warmth returned stronger than ever. It swept over me so hard that I gasped and slammed on the gas pedal. The car jumped forward and I almost smashed up a parked car on the side of the road. I swerved at the last moment and pulled back into my lane.

  My save didn't save me from what was consuming me from the inside. The heat pulsed inside me like a living creature. Its warm claws tugged and massaged my muscles, pleading to be free of my earthly flesh. It wanted to feel things, to touch them and know them. It craved attention, and there was one person's attention it definitely wanted, but there was no way in hell I was going to search for a murderer just so he could have sex with me.

  I reached my apartment just as the setting sun disappeared beneath the horizon. The streetlights flickered on and people scurried from the streets as the muggers and gang members slithered out from their daylight hiding places.

  I stumbled from my car and up the stoop. My body felt like it was on fire. All I wanted was to get to my apartment and drowned myself in an ice-cold shower. My hands fumbled with the keys, but I finally managed to get the door open and get myself inside. The small lobby was draped in shadows and I hurried across to the stairs.

  One of the shadows beside the stairs moved, and out stepped Druggy, as I now called him. He leered at me with his yellow-stained teeth and stepped in my way.

  "Where ya going, baby?" he cooed.

  "Get out of the way," I growled. My long fingers itched to give him a wider grin, but I fisted them and shoved them against my sides.

  He leaned against one of the stairs walls and looked me over. "Why don't you and I go up to your apartment and get to know each other better?"