Risk

by Jaime Johnesee

  “I agree one hundred percent. Unfortunately, there isn’t much in the way of clues left behind.”

  “Did you really expect there would be?”

  “Locard’s Principle, Reece.”

  I sighed. “Look, I know it states that the killer always leaves a bit behind and picks a bit up from each scene, but I just don’t see how that’s going to be helpful since he’s also very good at eradicating evidence.”

  “He can’t get every stray hair or flake of skin. At some point he will mess up and we will catch him.” Quinn sounded so sure. I wanted nothing more than to believe him.

  “I can’t get over that jaguar. I still feel like it means something. I just wish I could figure out what.”

  “Keep digging. We’ll find out eventually. Or, at least, we’ll find the killer eventually.” I didn’t have the heart to tell Q I didn’t believe him, that I didn’t think the killer would ever be found. Instead, I smiled and nodded and gave him my full support.

  My phone rang and I answered it without my full attention. I wish I had done it differently. “Go for Reece.”

  “I killed them for killing shifters. I am not sorry and I absolutely will do it again if I have to, so perhaps your lackeys could see fit to be better behaved and stay away from me while I feed and play.”

  I motioned to Quinn and he radioed for someone to trace the call. I decided I was going to have to do my best to keep him talking.

  “Um.” Hey, don’t give me any shit. How would you have responded to that gut kick of a confession?

  “I will get what I want and AWFA will fall.” He was using something to distort his voice and I could feel time slipping away. They only needed a few seconds to trace the line, but it was taking them forever to set up the trap and trace.

  “Hey, I’m all for AWFA falling—don’t get me wrong—I just don’t think they need to die to do it. Killing them makes us no better than they are.”

  “You don’t get to lecture me. You don’t know my life or what they did to me! To me and so many other kids. So many victims, Agent Reece. Victims who suffered far worse pains than those I killed.”

  This wasn’t getting me anywhere. I had to drop a bomb. “I want to know why you hid the jaguar.”

  Silence was his only response. I filled the silence for him. “I mean it bothered me, why hide the statue when you could have just left it where it was and nobody would have known.”

  “Leave it, and me, alone and I’ll afford you the same courtesy.”

  “I know this last one had nothing to do with AWFA. Why’d you kill her?”

  “You don’t know a damn thing. If you did, you’d know that you’re being watched at work. That the higher ups are afraid your jaguar will cause them problems.”

  “Yes, we’ve all had a meeting about it.” I wasn’t going to let him throw me.

  “Funny, they’ve had several meetings about it without you. Oh, sorry. I guess you didn’t know that. Isn’t it funny how I know more about what’s happening in your life than you do? Leave me alone and you can carry on carrying out orders for people who don’t trust you.”

  “I get CC’d on all meeting notes. I may not be at the meetings, but I know what is going on. They keep me in the loop. Forgive me for trusting them over, say, a stranger who is torturing and killing people for funsies.”

  The click let me know he was done talking to me. I only hoped I had him on the line long enough to get a location. Truthfully, I knew even if we got a location, he’d be long gone by the time we got there. Yet I still wanted to try. I had to do something. This had never been solely about getting his location. It had also been about establishing a rapport, and poking to see what I could discover of him. I’d engaged him the way Quinn had taught me.

  “You did good, Sam. They have the call recorded and they did get a location, cops are on their way.”

  “They’re not going to find him, Q. This guy has training and a beef bigger than Vulcan.” The statue of Vulcan that guards our Magic City is pretty damn big.

  “We’ll find him. Since bad news seems to be our current forte, Gerry says we need to take our AWFA charges to their safe houses for the night.”

  “Ugh.” I threw my hands up.

  “Get some rest, Sam. Tomorrow we start tearing apart that phone call and seeing what we can learn of our guy. I have linguistics sending someone up to help. They should be able to tell us where our guy came from. You did good keeping him talking.”

  “Thanks, Q. I feel like I failed in not getting more out of him.”

  “I think you just made him more interested in you. Let’s go grab Daniels and take her to the safe house. Gerry said relief would get there at six.”

  “She’s not so bad. I guess it could be worse. At least she didn’t believe in the shifter/vamp stuff. I could’ve been stuck with someone who loathed me.”

  “True that. I’m going to grab us a couple coffees to go. You cool to get Jennifer yourself?”

  “Yeah. Especially if it means I get coffee.” I waved and moved on down the hallway to get our witness.

  Finally.

  Now that I was alone, I had the time to ponder the thing that bothered me most, aside from the forced self-cannibalism. Had the FBI really been meeting about me? I’d lied to the killer; I hadn’t been read in on any meetings. I mean, I wasn’t upset. It made sense. Especially after what happened in Gerry’s office when I had to fight Jix.

  You didn’t have to fight me.

  Yes, I did. You were trying to take over my life.

  Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. You weren’t doing anything with your life, so, yes, I suppose I did try to take it.

  I honestly and sincerely don’t have time for this. Scram. I need to focus on this case.

  I felt her withdraw and continued on my way to get Jennifer Daniels. When I arrived, I signed her out and was told, again, a US Marshal would be coming by the safe house to take over for me at six that evening.

  “Where are we going?” She seemed nervous and I couldn’t blame her. I’d be nervous, too, if someone wanted me dead for something I didn’t even believe in.

  “I’m taking you to a safe-house. The guy who is killing AWFA members is still out there, and, even though he’s gone on to victims higher on the totem pole, there’s still a chance he will want to kill you because of AWFA.”

  “But I didn’t even know this stuff was real. You promised if I gave you a list of people, you’d let me go.”

  “We can let you go if you like, but remember, there’s a psychotic nutbar out there killing card carrying members of Americans for a Were-Free America. Which you just so happen to be.” She wasn’t a horrible person, just an asshole.

  “Fine.” She grabbed her purse and stalked out the door.

  I followed her to the elevators. “We have to stop and pick up my partner first.”

  “Of course we do.”

  “Look, I get this whole thing is annoying and difficult for you, but how about you suck it up and deal. Having to spend a few weeks in a craptacular apartment may seem suckish, but when compared to having your guts ripped out and force-fed to you it’s rather charming, don’t you think?” My give-a-fuck had broken sometime after seeing pics of that poor innocent girl forced to eat her own intestines.

  She blanched and turned a rather lovely shade of green before she got a hold of herself. “Force-fed their own guts?” Her voice came out embarrassingly squeaky.

  “And worse.” I pushed the button again and waited impatiently for the elevator.

  “Worse?” The squeak had reached helium balloon levels.

  “Yeah.”

  She opened her mouth like she was going to say something then closed it again. The elevator arrived and we piled in next to an elderly couple.

  Chapter 27

  BY THE TIME we got to the safe house the discomfort and awkwardness between us was palpable. Luckily, we’d be getting spelled soon, and I would be able to go home and take a shower in my own bathroom—for the first time in months.


  There was no need to go back to our undercover place, as it was safe to assume mine and Al’s covers were blown. I was looking forward to my steam shower. My new place didn’t have the room Jix wanted to run, but it had all the modern conveniences that a human could want.

  A nice long hot shower and some BBQ takeout sounded like a good idea. Maybe some peach cobbler for dessert? No, blueberry. My stomach growled its agreement.

  “I’m hungry, too. Can we get some food?” Daniels looked at Quinn. “Please, I’m really hungry. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I’m borderline hypoglycemic.”

  “You hungry, too, Reece?”

  “Yeah. I could eat.” Maybe it wasn’t BBQ, but at least I wouldn’t have to cook tonight.

  “Tacos?”

  “Yes, please.” Daniels looked excited.

  I said goodbye to my southern BBQ menu and agreed to go Tex-Mex. “Sounds good.”

  “Chicken or steak?”

  “Steak. Three flour tortillas.” The AWFA member wasn’t shy about voicing her opinion, or anything else. She’d taken off her pants and sat on the bed in a long shirt and a pair of boxers. The remote was in her hand and she was searching through for a movie.

  “Um, easy there with the no pants policy. I’ll take chicken on flour tortillas, please.” I sat on the other bed and leaned against the headboard.

  I was grateful she stopped it on the movie Heathers. We spent the next thirty minutes quoting the movie and cracking up. When Quinn arrived with the tacos my stomach released what I like to call its mating cry.

  “Jeeze, chill out there, Reece. One would think you were a bear, instead of a jaguar.”

  “So, you’re a jaguar? What’s that like?” Jennifer had grabbed the bag of tacos from Quinn’s hand and started digging through it to find hers. She pulled out three tacos and tossed the bag to me.

  “Like schizophrenia and torture with some enhanced smells, sounds, and sights.”

  “Sounds like the shit end of the stick.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Sorry people want to kill you for it. Hey, I’m sorry about the people I sold, too. I said I didn’t know, but you were right. I didn’t want to know.” She took a bite of her taco and turned back to the movie.

  It was more of an apology than I’d expected from her and I think she meant it, but I didn’t think it would do much to help heal the pain AWFA and hate groups like it cause. We had eaten a couple of our tacos without another word. The television was the only noise in the room and it was almost peaceful.

  A knock at the door disturbed our serenity.

  “Yeah?” I stood to the side of the door and peeked out the window.

  A man in a blue dress shirt and pair of khakis stood outside. He held his badge up to the peephole.

  It all looked legit except for the fact he had his gun drawn.

  I had just hollered, “Get down!” when he shot through the peephole. I shot back through the window and hit him above the knee.

  I was hoping to hit bone or joint, but must’ve only hit meat because he back pedaled and bolted for cover far too easily.

  Quinn had his gun out and was covering the door. I stood and motioned for him to look through the peephole and try and find the shooter. I’d be covering him from the side.

  He peeked through and opened the door.

  “He’s gone. But there’s a trail of blood leading to the parking lot.” A squeal of tires on the other side of the building had me running to get a make and model before the guy disappeared.

  I was too late. All I caught sight of was the right rear quarter panel of a blue sports car as it rounded a corner. I couldn’t even say for sure that it was our guy.

  I made my way back to the room and Quinn was on the phone with Sal Guzeman, our boss’ boss.

  “Look, Sal, here’s Sam. She saw the guy.” He handed me the phone.

  “He took off in a blue sports car, too quick for me to get a make, but the color was a dusky gray blue.”

  “What did he look like, Reece?”

  “He looked like a Marshal. Khakis, blue dress shirt, tie, marshal badge around his neck, .40 cal Glock in his hand.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. My thoughts exactly.” You can tell a fake LEO by their guns. This guy was packing the right weapon for the gig.

  “How deep do these fuckers go?” I was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question so I didn’t answer him.

  “Sir, what would you like us to do with our witness?”

  Quinn was attempting to calm the woman who was still shrieking over everything that had happened. I was just pissed the bullet had hit my damn tacos. I wanted nothing more than to find the fellow that left with my bullet in his leg. I’d like to give him a matching hole through his other leg on account of said tacos.

  “Bring her back in. We will have someone get her from here.”

  “Thanks, Sal. But here’s the thing I don’t get; why start shooting? If he’d played it cool he would have been left alone with her to kill in his own sweet time. Why reveal himself and risk getting shot?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to me, either. Sometimes these guys don’t make sense. Sometimes they have no clue how sense is even made. It’s possible he was trying to get a look at you. Maybe he wanted to see how good you were. I have no clue, but I promise you I will figure out what the fuck is going on.”

  “I promise we’ll do what we can on our end to make that happen.”

  “I know it. Good luck and see you soon.” Sal hung up.

  “Well, let’s head back to the office.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for the cops?” Quinn asked.

  “Maybe one of us should, but I think we need to get Daniels into the office as soon as we can, for her own safety.”

  “Yeah. Why don’t I take her and you wait on the cops?”

  “Fair enough, especially since I saw more of our guy than you did. Be careful with my baby.” I tossed the keys to him and he caught them and smiled.

  “Always. See you back at work.”

  “Thank you, Agent Reece.” Daniels shook my hand and took off after Quinn.

  She looked around constantly. While I didn’t blame her for the wariness it was somewhat amusing to see. I watched as they started up the car, the rumble of the engine once again able to put a smile on my face, regardless of the situation.

  They hadn’t been gone long when three squad cars pulled into the lot. The cops were here and I had a good couple hours of story repeating ahead of me. I grabbed Quinn’s unmolested taco from where it lay on the bed and began eating.

  Don’t judge me, I was hungry, and my idea for a long shower of joy was rapidly losing steam. Pun intended.

  Chapter 28

  AFTER ANSWERING THE same question for the millionth time, I was relieved when Sal came into the room.

  “Have they treated you right?” he asked, glaring at the detective who had been grilling me.

  “Yeah, they did nothing I wouldn’t have done.” The cop looked at me somewhat surprised. I guess he’d expected me to complain.

  “Agent Reece was quite cordial and relayed things quite well and with vivid detail.” The dick who’d been grilling me, smiled.

  I knew then that they didn’t think I’d done anything wrong. I hadn’t, but it was always nice when law enforcement agreed.

  “Well, we do train our people thoroughly.” Sal smiled and motioned for me to stand. “I’ll be taking Agent Reece with me. Feel free to call me if you have any further questions for her.”

  I’ll love Sal forever for that. I hate follow up questions. Nine times out of ten they’re a bunch of stupid questions I either wouldn’t have the answer to or had already answered a thousand times.

  The dick turned to Sal. “Thanks, Guzeman.”

  I stood and grabbed all my stuff, including my badge. I didn’t bother asking about my sidearm. I knew they’d take it and process it for evidence. They handed me my back-up piece and the stuff they’d str
ipped from me. Jewelry, cellphone, wallet. Everything seemed to be in place.

  “Aren’t you going to thank my agent for her assistance?”

  “Right. Thanks, Agent Reece, for your cooperation.” It came out more like that of a forced apology from a bully, but I graciously accepted it anyway because I’m kind like that.

  “Yeah, no problem.” It was what I was expected to say.

  The ride back to the office was interesting. Sal stopped at Bernard’s BBQ and picked me up some dinner. Bless him. While he drove, I ate. He told me what they found out about Grisly from all the AWFA members we’d been grilling.

  Apparently Americans for a Were-Free America had been training serial killers. They’d taken in more than a dozen nutters just like Grisly and our current psycho and trained them to take out supers. They were told they were part of an elite force assembled to remove the supernatural threat from the streets of America.

  “What? How the fuck can upstanding citizens be teaching people to kill and nobody fucking says boo about it?” I was livid, for good reason.

  “It’s not that we didn’t say boo because we were covering for them. We needed to see what their endgame was.”

  “Are you telling me you have agents undercover inside of AWFA?”

  “We always have. Just as they’ve had their moles inside our operations. Granted, we didn’t let their moles get as high as they allowed some of ours to climb.”

  “You mean there are people still inside?” Undercover work was never anything that would be considered a favorite of mine.

  I preferred tracking people down and bringing an end to their murderous rampages. Those were the sorts of cases I did best with.

  “Yeah. Not that there’s much of an inside anymore. This killer has wiped out a lot of their ranks. We wiped out most of the rest.”

  “That’s good news. Every time a hate group dies, an angel gets their wings.”

  “Hey, are angels real?”

  “Not that I know of. Sorry.” We left the BBQ shack and moved toward Sal’s car

  “Oh, well. Um, Quinn and Alex are back at the office waiting on you.” He opened the passenger door of his sedan for me.