“Sam?”
“Sorry, I was thinking it over. Send the lawyer. What the hell could it hurt?” If someone in my office wanted me dead, having legal backup would be nice.
If they were nuts enough to try and have me killed, what’s to stop them from setting me up for something? Alex was right, better safe than sorry.
“See you downtown.”
I held the phone for a moment and considered calling him back and asking him to forget the attorney. I didn’t want to be that cop who lawyers up automatically. Those guys always look so frigging guilty. At the same time, I had to look out for myself.
I had coworkers who would vouch that I’d done everything aboveboard and by the book. Yet, somehow, I didn’t think it would matter if someone high up enough on the totem pole wanted me quiet.
I wondered if I was going insane just thinking these types of thoughts. This was the conspiracy nut-job line of thinking and I seemed to have an express pass. I didn’t much care for it. I used to make fun of conspiracy theorists. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do that anymore.
I put the phone in my pocket and sighed. The guys weren’t going to like that I was bringing a lawyer in. It seemed like a weird step and an hour ago I would have never even considered it. There was something about Grisly’s being shot in my driveway by a skilled sniper that made me think that perhaps the things that seem ridiculous are very much possible.
Hell, I didn’t even know for sure that there was someone pulling Grisly’s strings. He may have spoken of a third party messenger of God’s, but that didn’t mean there was one. He could have been schizophrenic. Nobody really knew how the shifter virus affected psychological disorders.
I cut off that line of thinking by recalling the simple fact someone had purposefully and rather maliciously upped the lead in the bear shifter’s diet. No, there was someone he was working with alright. The question becomes how much do they know and how many people are actually involved? My gut told me this went further than just Grisly and his puppet-master.
After being cleared and stitched up by the doctors in the ER, I rode with Quinn quietly all the way to my field office, completely worn out from the lack of sleep and the latest events. Not to mention the massive amounts of questions thrown at me at the scene.
Huh, how weird to think of my house as a crime scene. At any rate, they’d separated all of us and questioned the whole team as to what had occurred that night. I’d be going through another couple rounds of questioning back at the office, but it had to be done and I understood that. I didn’t like it, but I understood. Especially if they, like me, wondered if Grisly’s godly messenger had deeper roots than first appeared.
They might not be wondering the things I am, then again, they haven’t been through what I have. My gut was never wrong. It’d helped me solve the crime that landed me at CID and I had no doubt that it was right on now. I had to be very careful with how I proceeded because I had no clue how far up the ladder the tentacles of this thing might spread.
It may only be one guy at the same pay grade as me or it could go all the way to the Director. I’m not big into espionage. I went into the Bureau because I wanted to help right wrongs not spy on people. Perhaps I was being paranoid in thinking the way I was, but better to go forth carefully and test each step before I put any weight on it.
“Sam, can you walk me through the last forty-eight hours?” Gerry’s boss, Sal Guzeman, asked.
“Sure thing.” For the tenth time I recounted as much of the last two days as I could. I was blessed to have been gifted with a good memory.
“You’ve never seen Grisly before yesterday?” This from the other agent sitting next to Sal.
He was holding a small pad of paper and a pen, wearing a dark blue suit, and looked extremely solemn. He reminded me more of an undertaker than an agent.
“Correct. The first time I saw him was across the street from my house the day he came after Ben Fitzpatrick.”
“Are you saying you led the suspect to the witness?” Blue Suit asked.
“What? No, I’m saying I saw a bear, smelled it was a shifter, and thought it was a new neighbor of mine. The house at the end of my street just sold and I just assumed it was bought by the were. I watched my six all the way to Fitzpatrick’s place. I didn’t see anyone following me. If I had a tail, they were professional enough that I didn’t see them.” I smelled a rat.
“Did you tell anyone where you believed the suspect to be?”
“Yes, my boss. The second I put two and two together I went right to him, as per protocol.” Those fuckers wouldn’t get me on not following orders.
“After you assembled and briefed your team did you call anyone else and give them the location of the suspect?” Blue Suit scratched out all of my answers on his little pad of paper even though the interview was being taped.
“No. I would never do that. Besides, we had no confirmation that the suspect would actually break into my home, sir.” Take that dickhead.
“How are we sure he broke in, Ms. Reece?”
“Well, sir, I was here at the office, surrounded by FBI agents, and they actually went with me to my house. They can attest to the fact he was in my home without my consent and that he attacked me on sight.” Booyah, bitch!
I couldn’t believe it. They were going to try and strong-arm me.
“Agent Reece, do you believe you acted appropriately today?”
“Yes, sir. I followed procedure and the orders given to me by my SSA, Gerald Jackson. My team remained in constant radio contact and every member was in visual contact at the time the prisoner was assassinated.”
“So, you believe he was assassinated?”
“Sir, he was killed in our custody with a single shot to the forehead about thirty minutes after his apprehension. If he wasn’t assassinated then I’d have to say there is some god-awful rookie out there that needs to turn in their gun.”
“Are you getting snide with me, Agent Reece?” Ah, back to Agent, that’s a plus.
“Snide? No, sir. I am just stating the obvious, sir. That man’s death was hardly any more of an accident than Jack Ruby’s was, sir.” I stared Sal dead in the eyes.
I didn’t think he had ties to this, but I couldn’t be too sure. They were raking me over the coals for something. While I expected it a bit (sometimes you have to be hard with a witness and make them think they’re a suspect before they get helpful), I didn’t expect them to go quite so hard at me.
“That’s a helluva thing to say, Reece.” Alex’s drawl came from the doorway. I smiled, I hadn’t even heard the door open.
“Alex, good to see you.” I grinned even broader at my old friend.
Relief rushed through me as he walked in. Alex carried some big guns in the form of his parents. They were pretty big muckity-mucks in Washington. We’d been friends since college and had decided on joining the FBI at the same time.
We were lucky enough that we even got through Quantico together. We’d landed in different cities but had kept in touch. When he went private he’d called me and offered me a job. I’d just become a shifter and switched over to CID. It was my first week here and I had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere else.
I still don’t want to be anywhere else. It’s why I hope this thing doesn’t reach too far up the food chain. I love my job. Always have, always will.
“You’re looking terrible, Sam. Did you get medical attention?”
“Yes, we saw to her medical needs. What are you doing here, Baltazar? Last I heard you’d turned over to the private sector.” Sal’s face reddened and he looked like someone had slipped him a shit sandwich instead of a pizza.
“I’m here to make sure my client’s needs are met, that’s all.”
“Your client?”
“Yes, Agent Reece is the victim of a serial killer who broke into her house. See, because of all that she is a little concerned for her well-being right now and, as we are old friends, I thought I would make sure she was safe. You
understand what that’s like, don’t you, Sal?” As he spoke a twinkle came into his hazel eyes.
Alex was always happiest on the hunt. He would have made an excellent jaguar, but I would never turn anyone. Even if he asked me, and he had.
“Agent Reece, are you concerned for your safety?” Guzeman asked.
“Honestly, sir, yes I am. A serial killer came to my home twice, and someone either followed him or gave him directions, then killed him on my doorstep in full view of a complement of FBI agents, police officers, and paramedics. You have to admit something like that tends to make a soul err on the side of caution, sir. So I called a dear friend of mine that I know is great with security. I want to make sure my home can once again be my safe haven.”
“So you didn’t call Alexander Baltazar here to meddle in the investigation?” He smirked at Alex.
“Sir, I engaged his services as a bodyguard and security expert. I feel as though my home is vulnerable and I want to fix that. It’s a natural human response after the shock I had finding out that a serial killer had somehow gotten ahold of my address and managed to track me down.”
“We will review all the evidence and get back to you in the next twenty-four hours to determine if you will be placed on unpaid leave pending an investigation.”
“An investigation of what? I have done nothing wrong. I broke no laws, and I didn’t even stray from protocol. I am a victim in this as much as anyone who had a psychopath break into their house in an attempt to murder them. I was just lucky enough to have told the FBI and had our men in as backup. They saw everything and can attest that I did nothing wrong.” I stood from my chair.
“Are you charging my client with something?” Alex asked.
“No.”
“So, she’s free to go, then?”
“Yes, in a manner of—”
“Come on, Reece, let’s go.”
“Am I able to go home, or is it still sealed?”
“It’s sealed. Will be for a couple days or more. We are being told to document everything.”
“Can I get some clothes?” I was trying not to get frustrated so I reminded myself that I was the one that wanted to do the whole sting operation thing at my home in the first place.
Shockingly, taking responsibility for my idiocy did not make me feel better. More fool me to set up the sting at my house. You’d think I’d have known better. How many times had I seen some poor soul’s home or place of business tied up during an investigation? Too many for me to have completely forgot about.
That said, I had been more concerned with catching a killer than I was thinking about the consequences. Oh, well, live and learn. I would never again allow a sting at my house. Hopefully, I’d never need to.
“Yes, we will have an agent let you in and escort you to collect some personal items. You should know we had to take several things as evidence. They will be released when our investigation is concluded,” Blue Suit said, his face devoid of any humor.
“I didn’t even shoot the guy!” I was getting pissed, they were treating me as if I had set the serial killer up to be killed.
It was insanity. I was done being questioned like this. I’d given a lot of my life over to the Bureau and I didn’t need this crap. I love and adore my job, but people thinking I could do something as shady and underhanded as setting someone up to die hurt me on a level I didn’t know I had. Of course, my job is my life and for them to be casting dispersions on me made me feel as though everything I worked so hard for was pointless.
“The evidence will tell us the facts of the case and that’s what we will follow.”
I felt oddly relieved at that. I knew I could trust Grace and her people. I’d also had enough dancing around the issue and more than enough game playing for the evening. I decided to speak my mind.
“What the hell is going on here, Sal? You know me. You know I had nothing to do with this aside from the fact Grisly targeted me. What the fresh fuck are you guys doing?” I wanted the truth and, dammit, I was determined that someone was going to give it to me.
If the people I’d spent my entire adult life working for wanted to cause me shit because this guy came after me then I was not going to play nice about it. Not anymore.
“Sam, you’re a good agent—”
“So, what, you interrogate all of your good agents?”
“You would do well to back off a bit there, Agent Reece. We question our agents veracity when we are deciding on whether to read them in on a situation or not.”
“What are you talking about, Sal?”
“I’m talking AWFA. I’m telling you they have people in all kinds of places. Places you wouldn’t expect. I’m also telling you there are people even higher up that are aware of it. We want to stop the Americans for a Were-Free America from getting their clutches on any more power than they already have.”
“And you thought that I was a part of this? You do recall I’m a shifter, right?”
“So was Grisly.” Point, set, match, to my fellow feds.
Chapter 19
“WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME ABOUT IT? If I hadn’t said anything would you have just let me walk out of here not knowing this?”
“We would have contacted you, eventually. I didn’t really doubt you were on the up and up. Gerry wouldn’t tolerate a weasel in his midst and he’s really good at reading people.”
“Sal, who was controlling Grisly?”
“That, my dear, is the question I was hoping you’d be able to answer.”
“How high up is this guy?” I sat back down and felt a little deflated.
It had been scary when I thought they were going to try and pin this whole mess on me, but it was scarier having my fears confirmed. If Grisly’s boss, or even bosses, were at the top of the food chain, we were all in trouble.
“Higher than it should, but not above me. At least not that I know of.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m still being allowed to investigate with no limits. If he had someone higher than me in the Bureau I’d be getting my leash pulled.”
“Why’d you choose to read me in, Sal?”
“Because, like you said, you are a good agent, Sam, and I can use more good agents in the know. Maybe we can cut the heads off the snakes before they get any bigger.”
“So, are you going to go after Grisly’s puppeteer?”
“At some point, yes. Right now we need to find out exactly who is involved. We haven’t any idea who that puppeteer is. Or, possibly, puppeteers.”
“More than one? Is that possible? I can see one crazy guy slipping through the cracks on the FBI entrance exam, but more than that? Doesn’t seem likely.”
“The AWFA aren’t crazy, just extremists.”
“Aren’t extremists, by the very definition, crazy?”
“They can be, but they’re far more dangerous when they’re sane. Or partially sane, at any rate.”
“So what do we do?”
“You go on about your business like you do every day. I will clear you in the internal investigation and then I’ll try to track down the puppet master.”
“I want to help.”
“Sam.” Alex’s tone was sharp. “May I talk with my client a moment, Agent Guzeman?”
“Alex, I don’t need you to step in.”
“Just for a moment, please.”
“The room is yours, Baltazar.” Sal and his navy blue clad pal left the room, leaving me with Alex.
“What the holy hell?” Between thinking I was going to be arrested and finding out that my boss’s boss believed Grisly’s buddy was a link high up the chain I was feeling a bit overwhelmed.
“You need to hold off on being all gung ho to jump onto the mole hunt.”
“Why is that?”
“These people had you in the hot-seat, Sam. What if you’d said something they didn’t like? How hard would they have grilled you if I hadn’t showed?”
“According to them, when they came clean and told me everything, maybe
a day or so.” I was insulted.
As if I couldn’t have held my own during an interrogation. Like I had needed his help. Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for it. I think his showing up knocked Sal for a loop and helped get me cleared faster, but I also think I could’ve done the same thing without his help. It may have taken a bit longer, but it would have ended up in my favor.
“That would have been a very stressful day.”
“Nothing I couldn’t have handled.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, just saying you might take a step back before hopping on the bandwagon of the guy that brought you in without reason in the first place.”
“Alex, they knew they had a mole. I set up the operation and picked my team; of course they’d bring me in and grill me. They took it further than I thought, but I get why.”
“You’re a lot more forgiving than I am.”
“That’s true. I’m also a hell of a lot cuter.” I grinned at my old friend.
“No arguments here.”
Alex was a good looking man. When he smiled, though, he became absolutely gorgeous. That smile transformed his handsome face into something utterly beatific to behold. A few years back we had scheduled a lunch date, but someone brought in a witness on his case for questioning. Alex had asked if I wanted to stick around, he told me it’d be quick. I agreed, expecting to have to wait a few hours for him. He took me to the observation room and went to work.
The man had serious skills and knew just where to push while questioning. In less than fifteen minutes—and with one smile—he’d gotten the girl to confess everything, including that she had cheated on some history test in the fourth grade.
“Look, Alex, I’m going to offer to help on this case because I’m a shifter and it just feels right. I’ve been hungry to take down AWFA for some time now.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll wait for you and take you home.” His eyes belied his amusement.
He was one of the too few friends I had left from my pre-shifter days. I’d always seen him as a brother of sorts. He treated me like a sister; well more like a fourth cousin he had a bit of a crush on. Not having any real family it was nice to have been adopted.
Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery Book 1 Page 17
