by ML Guida
“Thank you.” Gerri slipped past her. “Hello, Seth.”
“Gerri.” He lifted his beer. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“That would be lovely.” Gerri placed the pie on the kitchen counter. “Is that Griff’s file?”
Cora leaned close to Lara. “Don’t look like that. You know you’ve been dying to meet Gerri.”
Lara shut the door, refusing to argue. Her gut balled up in to a tangled pretzel. That had been true, but her livelihood was at stake.
Without word, she headed to the cupboard. “I’ll get us some plates and silverware.”
Gerri set at the table and flipped through the file. “Cora says you work for Buckley and Hartley.” Something in her voice upped the uneasiness in her gut.
“Yes, I do.” She frowned. “Why?”
“What do you think of Mr. Hartley’s policies regarding shifters?”
“I don’t agree with it, but––”
“But what?” She took a sip of her wine, her gold eyes glowing.
Lara stiffened. “I am up to being a partner and––”
“You don’t know much about Mr. Richard James Hartley, do you?”
“Gerri.” Seth glanced nervously between them. “I don’t––”
“Hush.” The one word was soft but echoed like a howling wolf.
Lara’s heart beat wild. Gerri wasn’t someone she wanted to make mad. “I don’t know anything about his personal life, if that’s what you mean.” She put the plates on the table.
Gerri closed the file. “He’s head of PASS.”
Lara lifted her eyebrow. “Pass?”
“PASS stands for Pureblood's Are Superior Sovereigns.” Gerri helped Cora bring out the takeout of spaghetti, meatballs, sausage, garlic bread, and salad.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Lara mumbled.
“It’s not.” Cora refilled Lara’s wine glass.
Gerri scooted Griff’s file toward Lara. “PASS’s goal is to wipe out, or rule, all the shifters.”
Lara frowned, thinking of Mr. Hartley’s many rules. Was it possible? “Are you sure?”
Gerri nodded. “I’m sure.” She took another sip of her wine. “Graystone Manor was an apartment home of shifters. Many of my friends lived in that apartment building.” Her voice drifted off.
Lara forgot about the food and moved the file away from the aromatic Italian food. “Are you saying that as head of PASS, Mr. Hartley had the apartment building deliberately torched?”
“Yes, I am. There have been other places, homes, condominiums, warehouses…all owned by shifters. In one of the condominiums…” Gerri’s voice choked and tears glistened in her eyes. “…an entire family of wolves were burned alive.”
“How horrible.” Cora looked at Lara accusingly, as if wondering how could she work for a monster.
Lara flipped through the reports. “I don’t see anything mentioning an organization called PASS.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Gerri twirled her glass. “Jason Hartley knows how to cover evidence, how to do payoffs. He has friends in top places.” She gave Lara a hard stare. “By the way, I was at the apartment complex when it burned.”
Lara looked up from the reports. “You were?”
Gerri wiped tears off her face. “Yes. I was visiting my friend, Sandy Mason. I saw Griff save those two precious little girls with no thought of his safety. He was a hero.”
“I’m sorry. Did you see anything else?”
Gerri sighed and shook her head. “No. I can’t say I did. I didn’t see who started the fire. I wished I had.”
“Do you remember anything unusual about that night? Even the smallest thing could make a difference for Griff.”
Gerri scrubbed her face. “No…nothing. I’ve tried to think of anything, anything to help Griff, but I can’t. The police interviewed me, but I wasn’t very helpful.”
Lara frowned. “Did Griff’s attorney?”
“No. I tried to contact him, but he never returned my calls.”
Lara leaned back in her chair and sipped her wine. “That’s surprising.”
Seth finished his beer and slammed it on the table. “I told you he was a douchebag.”
Cora began dishing up everyone’s plate. “If we don’t eat, everything will get cold.”
“How can we eat with knowing that my brother was framed?”
Cora flashed Seth daggers. “Because you’re not going to get drunk on beer, Mr. Seth Reese.” Her cutting voice silenced her mate and he immediately put back the beer he’d taken out of the refrigerator.
The four of them ate the spaghetti, which was more of a fettuccini with its thick noodles. Gerri, Cora, and Seth made small talk about the latest fixer-uppers Gerri had just completed, while Lara cruised the file. She couldn’t believe Griff was convicted on this. There were too many holes and inconsistent evidence. Chills skidded down her back. Griff Reese had been framed. It would take a lot of influence to pull this off. Was Gerri right? Was Mr. Hartley the ring leader in locking Griff away? But why? Why Griff?
Lara looked up from the file. “Gerri. Sorry to interrupt…”
Seth’s eyes shone with excitement. “Did you find something we missed?”
Lara shrugged. “I don’t know.”
His shoulders slumped. She hated dashing his hopes.
“But I’d like to try something. Gerri, are you game?”
Gerri put her fork down on her plate. “Sure.”
“I want you to close your eyes––”
She blinked. “Excuse me?” Her disbelieving voice sent Lara’s heart thumping faster.
“Please. I know it’s been four years, but sometimes people remember things better when they close their eyes…” Lara’s face heated and she returned to the report.
“All right, Lara.” Gerri smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
She definitely didn’t trust her.
Gerri closed her eyes.
“Now, think about that night.” Lara lowered her voice. “It was at night. You were visiting a friend. The fire hadn’t started yet. What were you doing?”
“Sandy and I were drinking a glass of wine. And talking.”
“What were you talking about?”
“I don’t know. We were talking about what we’d done that day. The latest couple I’d fixed up…Then…” Gerri frowned and her eyes flew open.
Seth frowned. “Then, what Gerri?”
“I remembered something, but I didn’t think anything of it. The apartment next to Sandy was empty, but we heard sounds in there…At first we thought it was raccoons or rats. But I don’t think it was. I think something large was scrapping across the floor. I also thought I heard voices.”
“Are you sure?” Lara tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. Otherwise, it would taint the witness.
“I’m a shifter.” Gerri pointed to her ear. “Excellent hearing.”
Lara still wasn’t convinced. “Maybe someone new was moving in.”
Gerri shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Sandy said she’d talked to the landlord and no one was supposed to move in until the following week.”
Cora started picking up the empty dishes. “What was the number of the apartment?”
There were no leftovers. Not a piece of spaghetti. Not a meatball or a link of sausage. She’d forgotten how hungry shifters could be.
Gerri rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know.”
Lara flipped through the file for anyone named Sandy. “What about Sandy’s apartment number?”
“It was two twenty-one, or was it two-fifty?” She gritted her teeth. “Damn it, I can’t remember.”
Lara looked up. “Can you call Sandy and ask her?”
Gerri gave her a distant stare. “No, she died in a car accident shortly after the fire.”
“I’m sorry.” Lara softened her voice, but something was fishy here. Was Sandy getting killed in a car accident a coincidence or was she reading more into this then there really was?
&nbs
p; Seth drummed his fingers on the table. “I know someone who would know.”
Cora’s brows wrinkled. “Who?”
Lara closed the file. “Griff Reese. I need to interview him before the parole hearing.”
Seth hung his head. “He’s stubborn. Not exactly the trusting type.”
Lara lifted her head. “Well, he’d better listen to me, because I’m probably the only one who can get him out of there.”
Gerri cast a slow smile across her face then winked at Cora who hid a smirk.
Something exchanged between them. Something secret. Something about Lara.
She squirmed in her seat, but she was too damn tired to find out, and her thoughts were jumbled––trying to sort out how her boss could possibly be linked to Griff Reese, a convicted arsonist.
Chapter 3
The furious fire flared through the apartment complex, destroying everything in its path–withering wood, melting metal, scorching cement stones. The blazing heat beat down on Griff Reese like fiery fists. Sweat dropped down his face. He shielded his eyes with his arm and choked on the smell of ash.
Sirens screamed in the distance.
“My babies, my babies!” a blonde woman screamed. “They’re inside.” She ran toward the building, but two men grabbed her.
“You can’t go in there,” one of them said.
“No, let me go.” She struggled to free herself.
Griff looked up at the fourth-floor apartment. His heart did a wheelie. A teenage girl and a younger girl beat on the window. Shit, they were going to be burned alive.
Without a second thought, he transformed into a tiger and leapt onto a first story balcony.
“Hey, buddy, no.” Someone yelled from below.
The flickering flames leaped out the window, singeing his fur. He snarled, pulling his ears back.
“Mom, help us!” a terrified female voice called.
He jumped up on the second balcony and then to the third.
Hothothothothothot.
Snarling, he vaulted to the fourth balcony. Fumes clogged his lungs. Flames burned through the apartment, eating stuffed and wooden furniture. A thick gray fog rolled over the small apartment, but his tiger eyes could penetrate through the veil of smoke.
The flames had forced the girls to move away from the window. They were against the opposite wall. A blond teenage girl, her eyes huge and a younger one were huddled together. The younger girl clung to a cocker spaniel puppy that was crying.
Fire was cutting him off from the two girls. Adrenaline spurred him to move. He burst through the glass patio door. Bits of glass cut into his flesh and sparks ignited his fur. He hissed and jumped, kicking his hind legs back.
Smoke stung his eyes.
The girls screamed and the dog yelped.
Curtains curled up into burning balls. The ceiling crashed to the floor. Sparks and wires flew into the air.
The girls hugged each other and buried their faces in their hair.
Crap, he couldn't breathe. He leaped over the debris, and in an instant, changed into a man. He coughed. His chest tightened. Tears rolled down his eyes. He grabbed the older girl by the shoulders. She looked at him with pure terror.
“It’s okay. I’m a shifter. Get on my back when I change. Hold on tight to my fur or neck. Don’t let go.”
The crackling flames blocked out his loud voice, but the girl nodded wordlessly.
He immediately transformed back into the tiger. The girls climbed onto his back. Arms wrapped around his neck nearly choking him while fingers pinched his fur.
Flames and smoke thickened. He panted, his lungs straining for air. The smoke swirled around him like a tunnel.
Don’t pass out.
He pulled back his ears and snarled. The floor cracked and the sofa slid inside a hole thick with flames. He sat on his haunches and flew through the air. His front paws hit the edge of the patio, and he dangled, his claws scrapping the walls.
“Please, please don’t drop us,” the older girl whispered into his ear.
They both clung to him like a second skin.
Drawing on his strength, his muscles straining, he climbed up onto the patio and gasped for breath.
Pain…pain…pain.
He hopped down the same path down as he came.
Swirling red lights flashed below.
Firemen, policemen, and the crowd waited. He could practically hear them sucking in their breaths.
“My babies. He’s got my babies.”
Griff woke up drenched with sweat. He kicked off the blanket and rolled to the edge of the bunk. He plopped his legs over the side and sat up, taking deep breaths. He ran his trembling hand through his damp hair.
Same damn dream.
Since he’d been in this hell hole, he hadn’t gotten one good night of sleep. But then, who did in prison?
He staggered over to the small rusty sink and splashed water onto his flushed face. He rested his shaking arms on the edge of the sink until the terror slowly subsided.
God, he was tired.
So damn tired.
He shouldn’t be the one in here. It should be Grant Sellars.
When he found him…And he would find him…he’d make him pay, pay for all the years lost.
Other prisoners were waking up, staring into his cell. Some of them were in gangs. Shifter-haters. His heart thudded in his ears. Adrenaline sped through him, quickening his steps in his six-by-eight jail cell. He stood straighter and braced his feet apart. He hardened his face. Fear and tiredness weren’t something he could show.
Not if he wanted to survive.
He transformed into a tiger and did his usual pacing back and forth in his cage and snarling.
The men turned away.
He was tired of the dirty lime green cement walls, the stained toilet, and hard as a rock slab that posed as a bed.
It was less than a week until his parole hearing. His brother, Seth, had come to visit him and had wanted Griff to get an attorney to represent him.
Fat chance.
His last dumb ass attorney convinced him to take a plea, and said he’d be out in six months.
Fucking liar.
That had been four long years ago. He was innocent and never should have been here in the first place. He’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
But what the hell? Every jail bird sang that song.
In his case, it was true.
Heavy footsteps approached his cell. Griff released a warning snarl and pulled back his upper lip.
Deputy Mason Henry, the only guard who wasn’t afraid of him, stood in front of his cell. He was taller and bulkier than Griff, but that was because Mason was a dragon and dragons trump tigers.
“Easy tiger.” He pulled out his keys. “You’ve got a visitor.”
Shit, Seth again. Why couldn’t his little brother stay out of this crap? It was safer this way. The last thing Griff wanted was for his brother to get hurt. This was his mess. He’d fix his own shambled life.
Griff growled, turning his upper lip into a nasty sneer.
“Don’t give me that, Reese.” Smoke puffed out of Henry’s nostrils. “I’m not going to take any of your shit. You’re your own worst enemy. You’ve got a parole hearing coming up. I’d suggest you behave.”
Griff transformed back into his humanoid form. “It’s 7:00 AM. Who’s here?”
“An attorney.”
“I don’t want a damn attorney.”
“Look, Reese, if you want to get out of here, I’d suggest you talk with her. Talking with her doesn’t mean you have to hire her.”
“My attorney’s a woman?”
Mason shrugged. “Your last one was a man who didn’t do shit for you. Maybe try a woman.”
“Fine. I’ll meet with her. Then, I’ll fire her ass.”
He stuck the key in the lock. “You know the drill.”
“Yeah, I know it.” Griff put his hands on the wall and spread his legs apart.
The door sli
d open.
Mason took one of Griff’s wrists and snapped a handcuff over it then did the other. He clasped Griff’s arm and escorted him down the corridor. His cell block was unusually quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. They were watching, looking for a weakness, planning something.
Griff met their challenging stares.
They walked in silence to the interview rooms. Mason unlocked the door and escorted Griff into the sterile room with a metal table and two chairs.
He was expecting an underpaid skinny bitch attorney from the public defender’s office.
But he was wrong.
A voluptuous red-headed woman flashed him a smile that sent his heart racing. Her suit hugged her curvy body and made his cock grow hard. His tiger went berserk growling and howling.
Never in a thousand and one years did he think his would-be-attorney would be his mate. This wasn’t what he needed. Revenge was on the ticket, not love.
She looked at Mason. “Are those handcuffs necessary? Is he dangerous?”
He couldn’t resist smiling––something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. “Depends what you think dangerous is.”
“Reese.” Mason dug his fingers deeper into Griff’s arm. “It’s up to you, Ms. Black. But the silver keeps him from changing into a tiger.”
She bit her lip and ruffled papers as if she were going over the pluses and minuses in letting him be unshackled.
Griff took pity on her. “I promise I won’t bite.”
She gave him a hard stare that made him lose his smile. “This is a serious matter, Mr. Reese. I hope you don’t plan on biting the hand that could save you.”
His fists tightened and every muscle bunched up, but his tiger couldn’t burst through the restraints. “Save me?” He looked at Mason. “This won’t take long.”
Mason shrugged. “It’s your parole hearing.” He motioned toward the door. “If you need me, I’ll be right outside.”
“Thank you, Deputy.”
Griff gritted his teeth. He hated being talked about as if he weren’t there.
Mason closed the door.
She had his legal file, a yellow legal pad, and an iPad.
“So, Mr. Reese, are you going to stand or sit while we discuss your case?” Her voice was as warm as ice.
