by Milly Taiden
Russel shrugged. “Was a horn dog, and yes.”
“Was?” Devin raised a brow.
“Dude, she’s my mate.”
“But she’s human.” He frowned.
“Are you a speciesist?”
Devin barked out a laugh. “What the hell is that?”
“Dude, you’re from LA and don’t know what a speciesist is? Y’all probably tagged the term.”
Devin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever you think. Spit out the definition.”
“It’s someone who is prejudiced against humans or shifters—the species of this planet.”
Devin rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m not a speciesist, Mayer. I dislike both in equal amounts.”
Russel stopped the images on the monitor and turned to Devin. “Have you always been this happy-go-lucky or did the big city jade you?”
Devin shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at his cubical floor. “I don’t remember always being this way. I used to be quite different.”
“Different how?” Russel swiveled in the chair to face him.
Devin shrugged. “I was never as organized as I am now. In college, fifteen years ago, my dorm room was a disaster of papers and books. I could never find a pen to write with. Shit, I was lucky to know what day it was for which class to go to.”
“Seriously?” Russel glanced at the black mesh pencil holder and the pens neatly packed inside. Binders and books were lined on a shelf by color and height. Every piece of paper was in a basket or folder easily found. “I couldn’t imagine that.”
“Yeah. When I was a rookie, I was so excited and loved what I did. I was almost bouncing on my toes ready to get to work.”
Russel laughed. “That would be funny to see. You’re so laid back and chilled all the time. What happened?”
He scowled and looked away. He didn’t want to think about the incident that broke him. The incident that almost took his life, and he wished it would have. He let out a sigh. “Let’s look at the security video. Maybe you can catch something I missed.”
“I’ve got a better idea. We’ve looked at this video stuff before and didn’t see anything. Let’s check out the bank in person. Maybe we can pick up something there.”
Devin pushed off the desk he leaned against. “Actually, I’d love to get out of the office. Should we call Director Milkan to see if he wants to meet us there?”
“Always a good idea to ask.” Russel pulled out his phone and hit his speed dial button for his boss. It rang several times. He expected to get voice mail.
“What, goddamn it?”
Russel pulled the phone from his ear and gave Devin a questioning look. “Sir, Sonder and I are going to the bank to check on clues. Would you like to meet us there?”
“Sorry, Mayer. I didn’t mean to yell at you. No, you two look around and see what’s there. Update me on whatever you find. After that, go home. It’s Friday. Not much more we can do.”
“Yes, sir.” He hung up before he got reprimanded for calling him sir. But when his boss was pissed about something, “sir” was the only name he was going to use.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Devin signaled his left turn into the bank parking lot. He and Russel waited in the middle lane for the massive trash truck to pull in first. The lot was filled with cars. The only open spots were toward the back corner. Being midmonth and a Friday, today would be a double whammy for employers with both salary and hourly workers.
From what Devin had seen since moving up here, most of the jobs were of the hourly status. Grocery cashiers, stockers. Restaurant staff. Hairdressers and the like. There were also professionals like a single law office or small doctor clinic housing a couple of general practitioners.
The smaller town was a drastic change. Going from Los Angeles to a population of just twenty thousand was almost a culture shock. He also had to get accustomed to friendly people who smiled and genuinely wanted to help others.
Russel opened the glass door to the bank and waved Devin in first. He looked around to see a line at the tellers’ station wrapping around the lobby. Many others milled around the side areas where individual desks allowed for one-on-one consultations between banker and client.
He’d never seen a bank so full of people. If this was an example of how this particular day would go, he’d sign up for direct deposit through the department. He wondered if the armored truck robbery had anything to do with the mass?
Russel leaned toward him. “Who are we looking for?”
“The manager, Karen Bryde. Though I don’t know how we’re going to find her in here.” A door to the side of the teller booths opened, and an older woman with her hair pulled into a high bun stepped out. She searched the area as if looking for someone. Devin headed her way, hoping she could at least help them if she wasn’t who they were looking for.
Devin pulled out his badge from his sport coat inner pocket and flashed it for the lady. She smiled and held her hand out. “Agent Sonder, I’m Karen Bryde. I’m the manager of this bank. Thank you for calling ahead. As you see, today is a bit crazy around here.”
“We noticed. We had no idea this went on.”
“Only when midmonth is on Friday. Come back to my office. It’s much quieter.” The men followed her through the door. Devin recognized the hallway with doors on both sides. He looked toward the ceiling, straight ahead, and saw the security camera. This was the exit the thief would’ve taken to leave the bank, which, according to the footage, she hadn’t.
The woman entered one of the offices and Devin smelled cat. Then he remembered the fluffy black cat they saw on the video. He slid his eyes toward Russel to see his reaction. Russel squished up his nose and frowned. Devin would’ve laughed if they were on their own.
Ms. Bryde gestured at the chairs on the other side of her desk. “Please, have a seat.” She sat in a plush leather chair that reclined when she sat back. “How can I help you, Agents? The robbery has been four weeks to the day, and we’ve pretty much forgotten about it and moved on.”
“Yes, Ms. Bryde, but the case remains open, and we’re following up on leads and talking to those involved to see if anything more has come to mind that might be helpful.”
“Of course, Agent. Would you like to see the vault?” She stood.
“That would be great.” Devin grinned. “By the way, Agent Mayer here would love to meet your cat.” Russel gave him the evil eye. “He’s a cat person.” Devin almost spit out a laugh.
Ms. Bryde smiled at Russel. A smile that took on an extra-friendly—maybe her attempt at sexy—look. “I’m a cat person, too, Agent. I have three I rescued from the pound at home. Snarky, the one that used to be here, isn’t around anymore.”
“Why is that?” Russel asked. Devin thought he noted a bit of fear in his coworker’s eyes. He swallowed his laugh with a slight cough.
“We found her in the alley out back digging for food. Poor thing. We brought her in and fed her. She was so lovable. She’d follow me everywhere, always wanting to be petted or get a treat.” She looked at the corner behind her desk. “I bought her a cat bed and she’d sleep all day. But after the robbery, she disappeared. I think all the police action, lights, and sirens scared her off.” She sighed, then looked at the agents. “Shall we go?”
The men once again followed her down the hall. Russel stepped closer to Devin. “The day I pet a cat will be the day they cut my balls off because I’d no longer be a real man.” Devin wanted to burst with laughter, but kept to his professional persona.
At the end of the hall where the camera attached to the ceiling was the entrance to the employees’ break room. Aromas of Italian seasonings floated out. Devin’s stomach growled. He was thinking carry-out would be good for dinner tonight. He stuck his head into the room to take a glance. To his surprise, the place was spotless.
“Wow, this place is immaculate. How do you do it with so many employees?”
Ms. Bryde laughed. “We don’t. The cleaning lady just left. She does
a great job for us. Without her, we’d look like slobs.”
They turned the corner and saw the one door in this part of the building at the end of the hall. Devin noticed the camera aimed straight at the entrance. No way to get in or out without being seen. Ms. Bryde led them into the room containing the vault.
“Would you like me to open the vault for you, Agent?” Devin studied the room carefully.
“No, that’s all right. What we’re looking for doesn’t involve the vault itself.” He took in a deep breath, smelling nothing out of place. Just Ms. Bryde and faint cat. No other people. Maybe too much time had passed to smell the intruder. He searched the ceiling and walls for air outlets. A small white vent sat in the upper corner. That would explain the lack of smells.
Devin glanced at Russel. The man shrugged, signaling that he found nothing. Devin turned to the banker. “That’s it for here, Ms. Bryde.”
They left the room and Ms. Bryde turned down the main hall at the break room, but Devin stopped. He nodded in the direction where the hall from the vault room continued straight. “Where does the rest of this hall go?”
The bank manager turned. “That’s a back aisle to the supply room and the alley on the side.”
“May we take a look?”
“Sure. I need to check on the front. Are you all right by yourselves?”
“Absolutely. Thank you, Ms. Bryde.”
The men pushed forward. The supply room was a tiny closet that didn’t impress Devin. The reams of paper weren’t stacked neatly. He heard a grind of metal on metal. Russel had opened the door leading to the alley. Both guys stuck their heads out to peep into the trashy, smelly area.
To the side of the door, a dumpster stood empty. Probably just dumped by the trash truck that pulled in right before they did. On the far end sat a homeless-looking man leaning against the wall. His head was down as if sleeping. Russel tapped his foot on the man’s duct tape–wrapped sneaker. He looked up with one eye open. “Wha’ you wan’?”
“What are you doing here? The bank usually isn’t where folks hang out.”
The man’s face was rough. Deeply etched lines radiated from his mouth and the sides of his eyes. His salt-and-pepper beard looked like a rat’s nest.
“Sometime, the woman give me the fancy food them bankers don’t eat. Real good eatin’ then.”
“The bank manager gives you food?” Duh, Devin thought after he asked. If she feeds the cat, why not the homeless, too?
“No,” the man grumped, “that uppty bish call cops on me. The lady with the snake eyes give me food. She scary. But gives me food, so . . .” He shrugged, then gave the deep, wet cough of a longtime smoker. Like his lung tissue was grinding down with each breath.
Devin squatted and looked the man in the eye. “What lady, buddy? Does she work in the bank?”
“Naw.” He panted from his cough. “The cleanin’ lady. She dumps trash an’ bring me food if’n I here.”
“Oh.” Disappointed, Devin stood. He’d thought they were getting a break on the case. He sighed. “Thanks, man. You know there’s a new shelter on Ash and Taft. They serve hot meals to those needing one.”
The man looked at him with one eye open. “Ash an’ Taft, huh?” He nodded until his chin rested on his chest. “Hafta check dat out, sometime.”
Devin and Russel left their cards with the manager in case she needed to reach them and left. But something scratched at Devin’s brain. Something that would blow this case wide open. What the hell it was, he had to figure out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Barry struggled with his emotions. He went from everything being under control and getting shot not being such a big deal, to stressed out with concern for his mate. As it was, it was hard to control this emotional rollercoaster. Like his bear was fine and suddenly no longer in control of what was going on inside him.
He was happy to be with Charli, but sad they weren’t “together” yet. Fear of Charli dying almost crippled him mentally. Anger coursed through his veins at the shooter for trying to hurt her. His bear roared at that. He took in a slow breath.
It was obvious to him that he had brought this danger to Charli. Before they met, she took care of cows, for chrissake. How dangerous could a cow be? Maybe if he went away, the trouble would follow him and leave Charli alone.
His hands fisted then relaxed, fisted then relaxed. He was pissed at himself for not remembering what had to be in his head. Memories couldn’t be erased. They were there forever. Who was he that he brought this kind of danger to Charli? If he could only fucking remember. His fist slammed against his thigh.
Frustration took over everything. He wanted to go outside and claw at a tree. The image had his fingers shifting seamlessly into his giant bear claws. It didn’t matter how much he tried to calm his bear down, the angry huffs couldn’t be quieted.
Why, why, why? Maybe there was a reason he didn’t remember his past. Could he have been such a horrible person that something was keeping him from knowing? He could be a serial killer, seriously. He could’ve gone insane and his mind snapped, leaving him a second personality. Insanity caused lots of shit, right? What if it was better to not know? To start fresh and keep his mate away from whatever he used to be?
But if he was so bad, why hadn’t anyone reported him? Did they not know his identity? It’s like he never existed before this.
He felt so fucking useless, and that only made the bear want to come out even more. The damn bear in his head confused more than helped. He had the overwhelming urge to protect Charli, keep her safe no matter what. The animal agreed, but what good did that do? Besides smelling, hearing, and healing, what was the fucking point? What was the purpose of that half of his soul?
No, he wouldn’t believe what Charli had said about him. He was born human, one soul, one body. But why did he think this? He had no proof. More of a gut feeling than anything.
Exasperation was getting the better of him. Why couldn’t he remember his past? Why was there an animal in his brain? Who wanted him dead and why? So many questions, but not one fucking answer.
He did know he loved Charli. So much so that leaving her may be his only option. It would tear his heart from his body, but if she died, he’d do much worse to his body. He was inadequate as a human and animal. Failing to keep his mate safe. They were always running. What kind of pansy-ass bear runs? One that wants to stay alive.
How fun is it to be alive if you can’t live with yourself for being so pathetic? You’d think for someone without a past, no baggage tagging along, life would be great. Fuck that shit. He might have no past, but his present sucked. Unless he could figure shit out, he would only keep wondering about himself.
Charli glanced at him. “What’s wrong, Barry?”
“Besides the normal stuff, nothing.”
She gave him a soft smile. “We’ll get through this.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“What do you mean?” The dread in her voice killed him. Could he say it? “Charli, I think—”
“Don’t you fucking say you’re quitting on us. I will be so goddamn mad at you. We haven’t come this far just to—”
Her words pulled a grin from him. “Charli, ‘this far’ has been less than two days.”
“So? Time means nothing, Barry. It’s what’s in here that counts.” Her hand rested on her chest. She sighed. “Don’t you get it? Stop being a typical man and listen for a minute.” He couldn’t help but grin at that. She was fiercely independent. He loved that about her.
She continued. “It has been almost two days. Two days. What can be solved in less than two days? Who stole the last cookie at the office? Who took your pudding from the lunchroom fridge? I hate that, by the way. The pudding is mine. Don’t forget it.” She smiled, which made him grin again.
She was so beautiful. How could he live without her? Life could be damn cruel.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you.”
She grinned. “If I r
ecall correctly, I saw you first. Finders keepers and all that.”
“Yeah, but . . .” he turned toward the window.
“But what, Barry? Tell me.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “I can’t protect you, Charli. I can’t keep you safe.”
“What?” She sounded incredulous. “Are you serious? You’re having a meltdown because you can’t stuff me into a windowless room with padded walls forever? I’m not your responsibility, Barry.”
“Yes, you are. You’re mine.” He saw the scowl on her face. Oh shit. He shouldn’t have said that last bit.
“I’m yours?” She took a breath. “Am I some lousy piece of property you think you can own and tell me what to do?” Barry opened his mouth to apologize. She stuck a finger in his face. “No, you don’t get to talk yet. I’m not done chewing you a new one.”
He sat back in his seat. He deserved this for that comment. Charli began, “If I wanted your protection, I would ask for it. Who put your bare ass on the floor yesterday in two seconds?”
He held up a finger to interrupt. “I do believe my ass was in the air. My balls were on the floor and very cold for those ten seconds.”
“Yeah, yeah. Be glad I let you keep them.”
He grinned. “I think you might be a little glad, too. The way your tongue slides over them, and when you suck them into your mouth . . . Damn, baby. I’m getting hard thinking about it.”
Charli slapped him on the arm. “Stop that. I’m trying to be serious. You’re making it hard.”
“I’m not the one making it hard—you are.” He wiggled his hips. “All for you, baby.” Charli busted out in a laugh. His heart soared with the sound. Could he give up listening to her voice, seeing her beautiful face every morning waking, and going to sleep at night?
Then a thought slapped him across the face. He was an adult and could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Some coward shooter shouldn’t scare him away from what he loved the most. Why should an unknown past keep his future on hold? If he wanted to protect his mate, then he would; he just wouldn’t tell her. And do a damn good job of it from now on. Unless . . . this whole thing was his fault. What if she was better off if he disappeared? Would her life be safer? Would she be happier?