Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery Book 1

by Jaime Johnesee

  "Pardon?"

  "How long 'til he takes that anger out on regular folks who're shifters?"

  "I don't know, Eddie. That's why I want to find him quick."

  "You and I both know he gonna start killing regular folks, and soon. Especially now."

  "Why now?" I was curious and beginning to think Eddie knew more than he claimed to.

  "Well, I didn't see the other bodies, but this one wasn't more than a puddle. Someone does somethin’ like that and I'd like to say they ain't going to be satisfied in slowing down." He took another draw off the pipe.

  "What aren't you telling me, Eddie?"

  "Nothing, ma’am, honest!"

  "Come on, Eddie, I can smell a lie as easily as I can smell your pot."

  "You can?" He looked slightly stoned and I knew I didn't have long before I lost my shot at getting whatever information he had.

  "I sure can. Been able to do it for a long time now. It's sort of a gift. So, tell me, what did Grisly say to you that you're keeping to yourself? Think about that poor girl you found today—think of what he left of her—now, think about your sister. Tell me, Eddie. What are you keeping secret?"

  "He said he was having ... cravings. I assumed he meant food. I asked him what sort of food he likes and that's when we talked pancakes. He laughed a bit and said those weren't the cravings he meant. I chuckled, too, 'cos I thought he meant women then. I told him where a lot of girls hang out during the day. I'm afraid he's there finding another victim. I'm sorry. I didn't know!" Caldon’s hands were shaking and he dropped the pipe.

  "It's okay. We will make sure the girls are safe. Tell me where to go and I'll go look for him."

  "I told him a lot of them hang out at Arkadelphia Road by the Pilot gas station and Wendy's. A few girls work the lots there." He bent down and retrieved his pipe as he answered me.

  "Thanks, Eddie. I'm going to leave. Before I go, you might want to hide that pipe a bit better. Not sure the other cops will be as kind as me about the pot." I patted his arm and ducked back inside the office.

  I got out my cell and called Gerry on speaker phone. I told Sheila to come over and explained to both of them what Eddie had told me.

  In less than a half an hour there were two carloads of us heading down Highway 78. We had to go easy with it so we were split between my car and Josh's. All of us in street clothes. Just a group of coworkers going out to lunch, or at least that's what we hoped we looked like.

  When we arrived at the gas station/Wendy's we left the cars, joking and laughing with each other. As we joked we also watched. I was fairly certain Grisly was already gone but maybe something of him remained.

  Perhaps they'd caught him on video getting gas, or a hooker. Maybe he left behind some piece of evidence. While my coworkers wound their way through the lot and restaurant, I went into the gas station and quietly asked to speak to the manager.

  After waiting about twenty minutes an older gentleman came out looking grumpy and extremely unhappy. Based on his tousled hair, either he had been taking a nap or was otherwise engaged in something with a lot lizard. I pulled him off to the side and in a very quiet voice told him who I was; by the look of fear that crossed his face I suspected he had been with a hooker instead of snoozing when his employee went and got him.

  “We are looking for a person of interest in a case. We need to see your security footage.”

  "We don't keep nothing longer than twenty-four hours."

  "That's okay. We still need to see them.”

  “What’d this guy do, anyway?”

  “Murdered a few women.”

  “Oh, dear. When do y’all think he was here? Like I said, cameras only run one day.”

  “He would have been here today."

  The man's face paled and his jaw dropped.

  "Today?" he squeaked.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Oh, dear."

  "Sir?"

  "Well, I was here all day, which means I might have talked to him."

  The man was even paler than before and was starting to sway. I walked him over to a booth at the attached Wendy's and we sat down.

  "It's quite possible."

  "What's he look like?"

  "We are going to need the security tapes, sir."

  "What sort of car does he drive? Would he kill me? Will he come back to kill me now that I've talked to you?"

  "Unless you are a woman you have nothing to worry about."

  "My wife is a woman." He looked shell shocked.

  "Unless your wife is a hooker you've nothing to fear."

  "My mistress is a hooker." The old fellow wasn't going to make this easy on me.

  "Well, it's best she watches her back for a while and tell her not to take on any new, uh, clients right now."

  "Oh, dear."

  "Sir, the footage?"

  "Yes. The footage. I will get the discs for you immediately. There will be four of them. They cover the whole lot and part of the road as well." He stood and shakily led me into his office, weaving the whole way as if he were drunk.

  Coupled with his still too pale face I started worrying about his health.

  "Sir, do you have any health conditions?"

  "I have a weak heart."

  "Okay, sir, I need you to sit down in your chair and slow your breathing. Try to relax a little, please."

  "You're funny. Relax. A vicious killer has been through my store today and you’re telling me to relax? What if he comes back for revenge? Sometimes they come back."

  "He isn't the sort to come back. He believes he is on a mission. He won't deviate from it."

  "You promising me that, young lady?"

  "No, sir, I can't promise you anything. What I can say is he has no reason to come back here. He has no idea we know he has been here. To him this was just another stop in a busy day."

  "You reckon?" The old fellow started getting some pink back in his cheeks. Slowing his breathing had taken some of the shakiness from him. However, he still sat slumped against his office chair looking as if someone had shot his dog.

  "I do." I smiled confidently at him.

  With my assurance he leaned forward and opened what looked like a DVD player and pulled out the four discs. He gently nestled them in their cases as if they were golden eggs.

  Then he handed me the cases and whispered, "Find him," ever so dramatically before he fainted.

  I called an ambulance and turned over the discs to Sheila while I waited for the paramedics to arrive. She and Josh took them back to the office. A few of the agents stuck around with me and spoke to all the lot lizards (hookers who work truck stops), making sure to warn them not to go with any man in a gold Taurus.

  Sure, he could change out his car, and, sure, he wasn't going after humans (that we knew of), but better safe than sorry.

  By the time the ambulance arrived, the gas station manager was doing much better and they decided he didn't need to go to the hospital. He thanked them for coming out and urged me again to find Grisly.

  Like I wasn't fucking trying already? Sorry, I know I shouldn't get riled like that, but it is so frustrating. I hate when people blame the cops because the bad guys are good at hiding. Like we just sit around all day and eat donuts while crime goes on unchecked?

  Such a ridiculous stereotype. Most law enforcement officers I know are exhausted from pulling twelve to sixteen hour days and spend every moment they can trying to stop and prevent crimes from happening. Some of them even work six days a week to try and help the world.

  Again, sorry about the tangent. At any rate, the video guys would be combing through the surveillance footage looking for Grisly and there was nothing more I could do. I left the gas station and called Quinn on my way to Ben's house. He'd been with the guy all day so I figured it was my turn to bite the bullet and take over babysitting duty.

  Chapter 11

  "HEY, SAM, I HEARD ABOUT THE LATEST VIC. Sorry you had to work it without me. But I'm even more sorry that I was stuck here watching y
our maker all day." Quinn was irritated. I could hear it in his voice.

  "I know. I get that you'd rather be in on the action than home with the kiddies. Thanks, though, for keeping him safe. Much as I don't care for the guy he was right on about the car. We are definitely looking for a gold Taurus."

  I heard Quinn's sigh and tried not to smile.

  "Well, at least he has the good sports stations on cable."

  "That's something, right? Especially since Kelly put a moratorium on football in your house."

  "Yeah, I guess the day wasn't all bad."

  "Sure, because I had a ton of chuckles staring at the liquid meat that was the remains of the newest victim."

  "Dammit, Sam, you sure know how to take the fun out of everything."

  "Hey, I wasn't the one who went all Kitchen Ninja on the hooker.”

  "That bad?"

  "Quinn, it was the worst one yet. He's going off the rails, man. Two vics just a few days apart means he's broken his routine. I'm terrified he won't be sticking to hookers and junkies. I'm scared he’s going to start grabbing any shifter he comes across."

  "You’re most likely right, kid. Fuck."

  "That's about what I said. Hey, I'll come over and relieve you from sitting duty. You go home and get some sleep. I'll figure out with Gerry what we should do about Ben. I get the feeling we won't need to have anyone stay on him much longer. He's not a woman and Grisly doesn't know about him. I don't think he's in any danger."

  "Here's hoping. There is nothing worse than babysitting. See you soon, drive carefully."

  "Drive carefully? Bitch, please."

  "Right, I forgot who I was talking to. Drive like a maniac." I could almost hear him stick his tongue out at me as he hung up. I drove to Ben's taking my own sweet time and being sure to drive carefully.

  As I pulled into his apartment complex I looked at his door. Quinn's car was still in the lot. I parked my car and started to walk up to Ben's door when my phone rang. Gerry was on the other end.

  “Gerry?”

  “Hey, Sam. Your pal’s boss got back with me today.”

  “Yeah, and?” I held my breath.

  “He’s on the up and up. He confirms your friend works import/export for them. He also said he was a good employee and he was at the motel dealing with a difficult client that was from out of town.”

  I let the breath out in a rush of gratitude. All I ever wanted from anyone is plain and simple honesty. It appears my maker had given me that. Maybe I had acted a bit like a paranoid jerk, but in this business honesty was something that didn’t come up very often.

  “Good. At least he was telling the truth about that. Did his boss say why everything was so hush hush?”

  “Apparently the client was famous and didn’t want anyone spotting him in town.”

  “Oh. Can we pull his security detail? I mean I highly doubt that Grisly even knows about him, let alone wants him dead.”

  “We need to stay on him awhile longer. I promise someone will either relieve you or call you to let you know the detail has been pulled.”

  “Thanks, boss, though maybe you should have someone else cover Fitzpatrick. I might be a little too close to this.”

  “Can you still perform your duties effectively?”

  I sighed and answered, “Yes.”

  “Then get in there and spell Quinn.” Gerry hung up and I slid my phone into my jacket pocket.

  Fuck.

  Now I was going to have to apologize.

  I was never very good at apologies. It just wasn't something I could do without extreme awkwardness. I'd made my peace with it over a decade ago. Quinn and my friends now let me get away with a simple sorry. I'm rather lucky that way.

  I took a deep breath and walked to Ben's door and knocked. Best to get the hard part over with. If I could apologize and move on easily this night wouldn't be so difficult. At least I hoped he wouldn’t make it difficult.

  I was going to have to stick around with Ben for at least the next eight hours until someone could get here to relieve me. I took another deep breath as he swung open the door and I attempted to say hi while inhaling. It reminded me of Eddie Caldon trying to talk while holding the pot in his lungs. I shuddered involuntarily.

  "You okay, Sam?" Ben looked at me with some concern.

  "Yeah, fine. Hey, sorry about earlier. I honestly feel bad that I just assumed you were a dick. Your boss confirmed your employment."

  "Well, at least you apologize when you're wrong and, boy, were you wrong."

  My face turned at least three shades of red as I answered, "About your employment, at any rate. The rest of what I had to say still stands until proven otherwise."

  "Come on in. Quinn says you're here until midnight?" He smiled a lazy self-assured grin that reminded me of the cat he really was.

  "I'm here until someone comes to relieve me."

  "Relieve you? What, is spending that much time with me a chore?"

  My mind blurted out, "Could be worse, I could be taking apart a drain with small chunks of people inside."

  "Thanks, Reece, you sure know how to make someone feel special."

  "Well, chores have to be done." I am an artist in the form of blurt.

  At Ben's raised eyebrow I realized what I said and turned a bright red.

  “Chores?”

  "I mean that sometimes witnesses need babysitting. Fuck. I'm not good at this shit. Can't you just accept my apology and be done with it?"

  "Already have, I just found your sputtering amusing." He grinned and the smile carried to his eyes.

  "Dick."

  "So you've said."

  Quinn's cough from the living room doorway caused the moment of verbal sparring between Ben and me to shatter and I found myself once again feeling awkward. The idea of eight hours stuck with Ben in his house was uncomfortable in the way that it felt too comfortable. This sire bond stuff was playing havoc with my emotions.

  I was hoping Gerry would call. If I didn't have to stay but a few hours I could deal with that. But I really didn't want to stay the full eight. The chemistry between Ben and I made me a little uncomfortable and he knew just how to use it to his advantage.

  "Hey, Q," I greeted.

  "Hiya, Sam. Well, I'm going to run home, check on my family, get a few hours of sleep, and then hit this case hard. You kids have fun. Hey, Sam, walk me out." Quinn reached for and shook Ben's hand and then led me out of the apartment by the elbow.

  We stopped a few feet in front of the door.

  "What's up, Q?"

  "You going to be okay doing this?"

  "If I say no do I get to go home to Kelly and a nap?"

  "No."

  "Then I'll be fine. Honest. It might be a good thing. I can ask him all the questions I want and he can't escape me. Muahahahahaha!"

  Okay, so my evil laugh needs work. It doesn't get as much use as it should.

  "Sam, if you’re uncomfortable, make sure to call. We can have someone else shack up with your maker." At my glare Quinn continued, "You know what I mean. We can have another agent sit with him."

  "I know. There's a part of me that wants to take you up on that offer, but, at the same time, I finally have a chance to find out about my jaguar. I have so many questions and now is the time for answers, finally. I need to know some things about who I am and Ben holds the key to that. It's just that this bond between us—”

  "The sire bond you were talking about?"

  "Yeah, I've never been affected like this by anyone else."

  "Is it affecting your ability to think clearly?"

  "Yes, but not in my role as an FBI agent. I have no problem with that aspect of things. It's more my jaguar that’s having a difficult time."

  "Sam, are you sure you're not too involved to do this?"

  "Q, I might be, but I need to know things only he can tell me. The wolves don't understand. I need a cat to talk to."

  "I get it. Just be careful and if you find yourself in a spot where this sire bond is
overwhelming you, think about baseball."

  "Baseball? Really? Why do guys always say shit like that? I'm going to be okay, honest. Just make sure I get that relief by midnight. I'll see you later, pard."

  "Be careful." Quinn smiled, then turned and walked to his car.

  I took a deep breath and steadied myself for going back inside to Ben. The man with all the answers I needed. The man I turned into a flipping teenager for because of this stupid sire bond.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 12

  I WALKED BACK INTO THE APARTMENT and after a few uncomfortable moments Ben grinned and asked, "So, what can I get you to drink, Sam?"

  "Pepsi would be good, thanks."

  "You've got it. Pepsi with real sugar okay?"

  "Perfect."

  "Okay." He left the living room and I tried my best to slow my heart rate and steady my breathing.

  I had a little chat with my jaguar, telling her to knock this shit off. I informed her that Ben was not the guy we wanted and she had to relax a little. She gave me the metaphysical jaguar version of the finger.

  God, this shit was annoying as hell. I hated not being in control of my emotions. I pride myself on control and Ben was someone where I could see things moving too far too fast.

  Best to keep distant.

  Always best to keep distant.

  It's what my childhood taught me. Sure, Quinn, Kelly, and Chad were safe. They were real family, not just DNA and blood; they were people I could count on. I needed to remember I couldn't count on my sire. He'd proven that when he'd bitten me.

  I should probably just allow myself to enjoy the feelings I had with my maker, but I couldn't help believing that it was more about a sire bond than anything approximating true emotion. As much as I wouldn’t have minded some good sex (it’d been far too long for my taste), I didn’t want it with Ben, no matter how attracted I was to him.

  I sat back on the leather couch and glanced at the TV. A game show was on and I didn't feel like paying attention so I stood and walked around, looking at the framed pictures he had displayed on his bookshelves and fireplace mantle. There were a bunch of an older woman and an older gentleman, that looked a bit like Fred Rogers, together.