Risk

by Jaime Johnesee

  Not to mention I had a migraine starting behind my right eye.

  “It’s hard, Sam.”

  “Well, Al, we don’t have time for that.” I winked as I adjusted my holster.

  “I mean this. Us. We take so much work these days that I find myself wanting to spend more time away from you. I just can’t stop seeing you and Ben together as a couple. In my mind you guys are perfect together and it hurts to see.” Guilt clouded his face.

  “Ben and I are not perfect together. He doesn’t know me like you do. He never could. Nobody could and I am really fucking tired of beating this horse beyond its death.”

  “I agree. Let’s just make this meeting and go from there. We are in this assignment for I have no clue how long. I don’t want this to be hell when it could be heaven.” Alex’s smile looked forced.

  “I agree. We will do the meeting and then we will talk later.” I was starting to wonder if we’d ever stop talking.

  At least about me and my maker. I was tired of hearing it and there was nothing any of us could do to change anything more than I had already agreed to.

  The sandwich had absorbed the leftover alcohol and I was feeling a little bit better, aside from the massive headache.

  Another text from Ben had the headache growing. “I can’t do this anymore, Sam. You’re killing me.”

  I didn’t answer him and slipped my phone in my pocket as Al and I left the building–but not the tension—behind on our way to the meeting.

  Chapter 20

  ALL THE BIG muckity mucks were there from both federal and local law enforcement. Even the governor had called to get briefed on the situation. We were told that we were being called together because another AWFA member had been found dead.

  The lights were turned off and the hum of a projector filled the room. On the opposite cream cinderblock wall images appeared.

  The scene the police had been called to this morning fit the parameters of the scenes we had entered into ViCAP. We’d been called in to investigate. James and Gerry being responsible for the images we were now viewing. Images that left little doubt in my mind the same unsub—or unsubs—was involved.

  I watched as the president of the organization that called for my death as a super had her own vile desires enacted upon her. And then some. The killer had forced her to consume herself as at the other scenes. He’d also stayed longer and kept her alive longer.

  There was a slide of coroner-submitted autopsy photos with the explanation that the first slice of flesh removed and fed to her had occurred twenty-four hours prior to death. It must’ve seemed like an eternity to her.

  The killer must have really hated her to make her suffer for so long. I wondered if all the vics had been kept alive and tortured long before death had saved them. I asked about it out loud.

  “Coroner says that they’d only been alive a few hours after torture began. Not much solace for their families and friends, sure, but better than an entire day of pain and suffering like Millicent King had to endure.” Gerry’s voice was quiet and I couldn’t blame him.

  We were in charge of protecting these monsters who had done the same sort of depraved brainwashing on innocent people to further their war and it was damned hard to do without complaining.

  I was lucky in that I got to keep mine in jail. It kept her safe and far the fuck away from me.

  Sure, Jennifer Daniels wasn’t like most of those assholes in AWFA. It didn’t matter that she didn’t believe in weres, because she was still far from a good person. Hell, she’d pretended to befriend girls and then had them kidnapped and sold as sex slaves.

  I didn’t think she had much to offer, but the list she’d coughed up had proven fruitful.

  I just wish we had something more on our current killer. Sadly, there would be some pro-supers in the law enforcement community that would make things difficult because they despised AWFA and everything it stood for.

  Normally, I appreciated and adored those people. Right now, though, with a murder to solve, I was less grateful for them and more wishing they were slightly more tolerant, which is amusing when you consider that they’re intolerant of intolerance.

  There were no clues left besides what the killer or killers wanted us to find.

  Based on the first two scenes, I thought it likely there was a second person, but we haven’t found any proof of more than a single unsub. There were no prints, stray hairs, or fibers.

  “The vacuum bags!” I blurted. “Did anyone check the vacuum bags?”

  Sal looked over. “What’s that, Reece?”

  “Did anyone check the vacuum bags at the scenes? It hit me that if he’s wiping prints and we’re not finding fibers, then perhaps he’s also vacuuming.” It was something I would have been too embarrassed to speak up and suggest when I was human.

  Sal flipped through the agent case reports, then flipped to the ERT report. He grumbled as he read. “No. Doesn’t look like they did. Get Officer Hahn on it.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get on it as soon as the briefing is over, sir.” Josh stood up and nodded. I waved to him; he waved back and sat down.

  “Good man. Reece, I want you and Quinn to head down to the newest scene.” Sal paced as he spoke. “Maybe with some fresh eyes you can catch something else we all missed. Officers, canvas the neighborhoods where the victims were found. Agents, dig into AWFA with everything you’ve got.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Our yes got lost in a sea of yeses and ayes. The meeting broke up and we all set out to do the tasks assigned to us.

  “At least they will have already taken the bodies this time.” Quinn looked at me hopefully.

  “You know that doesn’t matter. The smell will still be lingering around.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll have your tiger lemon balm stuff and won’t have to see what he did to them.”

  “You think it’s a he?”

  “Women aren’t usually this violent with their kills.”

  “There’s always the deviants.”

  “True as that may be, they still tend to follow behavioral patterns. Women tend to be big picture thinkers. You tend to worry about the people having to clean up after you as well as the ones you leave behind and their chance at finding the body.”

  “I’m glad to be working with you instead of against you.” I smiled at Q. He was brilliant with all the mind-of-a-killer stuff.

  He understood their psyche so completely and could anticipate behavior better than most of the behaviorists I knew, and I knew several.

  Years of bringing these sorts of monsters down had given him the ability to get inside their pattern of behavior, and thus inside their heads.

  Nobody understood these monsters quite like Quinn. He had a gift in his ability to profile, it made him a far more effective hunter. But, shush, I’ve never told him any of that because I don’t want him getting a big ego.

  And really, I didn’t need to tell him. He pretty much already knew. People came to him from all over to ask for his help and the FBI was willing to lend it. Lately, we’d had our hands full with all the AWFA stuff and I could tell Quinn had been getting slightly frustrated that the case had been going nowhere. AWFA had stonewalled us like crazy when we’d been trying to figure out who exactly they were.

  Now, they were showing up and begging for our protection. Smaller dogs rolling over on the bigger ones. It happened every time an organization was brought down. Those near the top were either willing to die for their cause or were complete frauds about it.

  I found so many non-believers in the AWFA roster we’d been given. So many people willing to pretend to hate races they didn’t believe in just to fit in somewhere.

  I think Jix said it best when she said, Persons are weird.

  Chapter 21

  MY PHONE RANG and I separated from the group and answered it quietly.

  “Samantha Reece.”

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah. Hello?”

  “It’s Ben.”

  “Hey, n
ow’s not exactly a good time. Maybe I could call you back later?”

  “I won’t be here.”

  “What?” My heart jumped in my throat. Jix jumped in there, too, and it got a little crowded for a moment.

  “I’m taking a job in New Zealand. I can’t be around you, Sam. All I want is to be with you. I want so badly to be with you that I’m turning into some sort of lap panther and that’s not what I want to be. Call me when you’re ready to explore our love. Until then, take care of yourself.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t have the chance to get out any more than that because the line went dead.

  I stared at my phone for a heartbeat wondering if I should call him back.

  Yes! Call him! Don’t let him go. They love us and we love them.

  Sorry, but that’s just not true. I don’t love him. I might lust him but it’s not love.

  Say sire bond again and I will beat the hell out of you with your own hand, human.

  I’m not a human anymore.

  You frustrate me!

  Oh, yeah, and you’re such a frigging peach. So delightful to deal with.

  At least I give you the opportunity to have what you most desire. I allow you to be with your tiger!

  Allow me? Excuse me, little mental cat, you don’t exist without me, and I was here first, so shut your damn maw and deal. Besides it might be good for Ben and I to take some time away from each other. Maybe this thrall will lessen with some distance.

  When will you come to the realization it is not a thrall or a sire bond, but true and abiding love? When will you admit that Ben is your soul mate?

  Sorry, I just don’t believe that. I don’t buy that he is my soul mate. I believe that Alex is.

  You are wrong.

  Perhaps I am, but it’s a wrong I need to be for myself.

  Why would you give up true love for a male of another species? He cannot make you happy. He doesn’t understand what it is you need. He is not jaguar.

  He may not be a jaguar, but he understands me and my heart. That is far more important to me. That is what a real mate is.

  We should go after Ben. He has my mate and I don’t want him to leave.

  If it’s causing him pain, why wouldn’t you want him to go?

  You are causing him pain. Needless pain.

  Not now. I can’t do this now. I have a serial killer to deal with.

  Fine, but we will do this, Sam. Depend upon it.

  Fine. Ugh! Why couldn’t my metaphysical thought-cat have come with a manual? Or a metaphysical tranq gun?

  She had gone off and didn’t answer. I really needed to get control over this or she was going to cost me dearly. Either with my life or by screwing up things with Alex. I was mostly glad Ben was leaving. There was a part of me that was going to miss him and that felt badly for driving him away.

  However, the relief that I’d be able to live my own life without Jix constantly pining for a man/cat who we did not need in our lives was liberating. I put my phone away and moved back in to listen to the briefing. I hadn’t missed anything I didn’t already know.

  Quinn raised an eyebrow as he watched me approach. I nodded that I was okay. I’d be talking to him later about Ben. Q was my big brother, and as such he was forced to listen to me complain. Just as I had been forced to listen to the almond nut crunch debate that raged through last spring.

  I listened to it every day for a month. An entire month of nothing but peanuts, almonds, and cashews. Walnut and pecan talk gets old after thirty whole freaking days. It was, if you’ll pardon the pun, nuts. So, I felt like my big brother from another mother owed me a little recompense for the nutrageous times.

  I listened as Q and Gerry talked about what we were doing to catch the AWFA Killer and how the department was handling the problem of protecting Americans for a Were-Free America members when someone wanted them dead and many of us had shifter friends or coworkers in our lives.

  Some of the members didn’t even believe in us. Others thought we were monsters. How could anyone be so blind as to think all of any one thing are the same? It didn’t seem to matter how much good was done for the community. To AWFA members, shifters would always be the Devil, even if they led a more pious and righteous life than a saint.

  That sort of dismissive attitude was what led to major problems between races, cultures, religions, political beliefs, and major sports teams for centuries. I pulled myself out of my thoughts as Quinn began to talk about the kills and what this told us of our unsub’s personality and what sort of person we were looking for.

  The problem was in the vagueness of the profile. We wouldn’t know it was him until we had him, and then the profile would no doubt be helpful. Until then, we were floundering. The worst part of the job is the time spent waiting on more bodies to try and find some sort of clue or mistake.

  It can make you feel like a bad guy. Just waiting on them to kill another soul so you can get a clue as to who they are or where they are and stop them. Quinn had even more of a difficult time with it than I did.

  As you sit and wait for another body to drop, you try not to beat yourself up for not catching him, but that’s typically a fail. Then you take the time to learn as much as you can from the previous victims and their circumstances. The smallest thing can catch the biggest dickheads.

  That’s the way Q and I work, anyway. It’s probably why we get along so well. We’ve got the highest solve rate in our department. That’s mostly Q, though. He is really good at understanding the sociopaths we bring in and can get them to talk like nobody I’d ever seen.

  “When we find this guy, be careful. There’s every chance he will try for suicide by cop. Killers with this mission oriented way of thinking are great at martyrdom.” Quinn wrapped up the briefing and headed toward me.

  “Nice job.”

  “Say that after we catch this guy. Like you said, I’m no fan of AWFA, but whoever our unsub or unsubs are, they really took it all out on their vics.”

  “I can’t help but be reminded of Grisly. Tell me I’m not the only one.”

  “You’re not. I was wondering if maybe our guy was trained by AWFA and maybe went rogue when he/she/they discovered that shifters aren’t all evil monsters bent on destruction.”

  “I wondered the same thing, Q.” I leaned against the wall by a large peace lily.

  “Usually, when you and I have the same thought it winds up being factual.”

  “Well, karma was going to come after them at some point. This might just be a bigger dose of it than they expected.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Too bad it won’t make them think twice.”

  “I doubt they even thought once. The hatred that feeds groups like AWFA isn’t based in logic.”

  “Very pragmatic way of looking at it.”

  “When it comes to speciesism, pragmatism is not enough to counter the damage they do.”

  “I remember the colored water fountains still being around when I was a little boy. I really thought we were past all this. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this crap.”

  “Hey, I’m used to dealing with it by now. I’m just sorry people are dying because of their hate. As gruesome as Grisly was, and now this guy is, someone made them that way. That someone is the one we need to stop.”

  “We will. Unfortunately, not before we have to protect the giant jerkwads.”

  “Sarah, the wolf from SWAT, said one of the AWFA members she’d been assigned to protect told her he’d rather die than have her as a guardian.” We, and Alex, were the only shifters I knew of working in our division.

  “Humans can be quite stupid.” Quinn shrugged and began the trek to our desk.

  “Every species can, but, I mean, really? To hate so much that you’d rather die than accept some help? That’s pure sickness. Worse, it’s a sickness that is taught.” I smiled and waved at a coworker who had said hello as we passed.

  “That it is. Makes you wonder why we teach to hate at all.”

  “T
hat sounds like a discussion for another day. Possibly over tacos and margaritas. For now, let’s go over the case again. Maybe we’ll see a pattern we missed before.” Q and I got into some pretty deep discussions, and, though they were always awesome and eye opening, this wasn’t the time for one.

  “Fair enough. Let’s start with our first scene.” He pulled the crime scene pics from the file he’d used for the briefing and we laid them out over Alex’s desk.

  “What’s that under the bed?” I pointed to what looked like a medicine bottle. “Did we collect that?”

  I was sure we would have it in evidence. ERT did an awesome job, under fear of Grace. They usually took everything up to and including the garbage. I looked at the evidence list and found four different pill bottles. Three of them had our vic’s name. The fourth, however, was a woman’s name, and the drug was listed as a sedative.

  “I think we’re looking for a single unsub.” I handed the list to Q and pointed out the bottle and the name on it.

  “They kept them sedated so that the vics couldn’t run. They’d probably drift in and out of consciousness, though.”

  “We’ll have to wait for tox to confirm. Let’s just hope this name gets us to where we want to go.”

  While I doubted that the woman whose name was on the pills was the culprit (I mean, there are some seriously stupid criminals out there, so it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility), at least it gave us a place to start.

  I pulled up the program and entered the woman’s name from the pill bottle into the database. I waited a short time while it searched the world for any data about the name I fed it. I didn’t expect what showed up. Rather, who showed up.

  Ginger.

  “What the fuck?” I should’ve known it would bring back something insane, that’s how this whole case had been going.

  “What is it, Sammy?” Quinn looked over my shoulder. “What the fuck?”

  “Exactly.”

  “If she’s really behind this, then she’s got to be the best actress I’ve ever come across.”