by Judy Teel
That made me the bigger but more realistic fool, I guess. Which was why I cared more about getting some dinner and heading for my bed than I did about offending a werewolf FBI agent and vampires who kept assassins on their payroll.
As I left the precinct and made my way to the nearest transport station, I wondered when my tendency to take risks would finally use up all my luck. I had a feeling that day might be sooner than I liked.
CHAPTER TWO
The late morning sun attempted to stream through the dirty glass of the basement window above me. My place of business, Kittner Investigations, wasn't much, but it was mine. In my world, that meant a lot.
On one side of the ten-by-ten room sat my desk, an impressive structure made from two beige double-drawer filing cabinets with an old wooden door laid across the top. The setup gave me plenty of room for my laptop, micro printer and copious clutter, which made it perfect in my opinion.
In the corner to the left, sat a red-painted crate supporting the all-important coffee machine, in front of me was the steel and silver reinforced door, and in front of that, two folding plastic chairs for the clients I was going to get any day now.
As an extra precaution in case visitors came with something more in mind than hiring me, I'd secretly installed an escape hatch behind the classic Pirates of the Caribbean movie poster that hung on the wall behind me. After several weeks of work and a steep learning curve, I'd managed to quietly cut through the cinderblocks to the storage room on the other side.
I couldn't care less what my landlord would do if he ever got wise to it. Only fools didn't have a second way out in an emergency.
As the weather heated up, I hardly ever noticed the musty smell of my basement paradise, or the occasional mouse droppings in the corner. The rent was cheap, I could walk to the building from my apartment, and best of all, it stayed cool this time of year without air conditioning. My landlord even allowed pets.
Which was why my unrepentant, insanely fluffy tabby cat sprawled comfortably in the corner of my desk on top of a pile of papers. She'd showed up early that morning at my apartment looking satisfied with herself and was now sleeping it off. I felt a little jealous. It had been a long time since I'd had been able to blow off steam and have some fun. Brat.
I scrolled through the messages that had collected in my Inbox and cautiously took another sip of coffee from my Mickey Mouse head mug. I'd found my office coffee maker at a garage sale, and the coffee from it never failed to scald the hell out of the roof of my mouth. But since coffee from a freeze-dried tablet held no appeal for me, I was glad to have it. In fact, I'd spent another six months finding a second one for my apartment.
As I deleted one message after another, frustration skulked along my nerves. Nothing but a bunch of junk and one request to spy on a cheating husband. I'd had high hopes when I graduated high school and started my own business. They'd soared even higher after the case with Cooper and the resulting flurry of work. Then, after a few months everyone forgot, and I was back to nothing.
I eyed Wizard looking so comfortable on the stack of printed wanted posters. I was getting desperate enough to pull them out from under her, even at the risk of suffering her displeasure. Lucky for me, I was saved from such a dangerous act by the dull thump of someone's knuckles on the other side of my door. Wizard and I looked up in surprise.
Resting my right hand on my gun, I poked the red button of the door's remote with my left index finger. My muscles tightened for action as the thick metal barrier swung ponderously open with a long-suffering hiss of hydraulics.
Cooper's curious gaze swept over me and around the room. Wizard's attention swept over Cooper. When the two of them locked eyes, the Were tensed and the cat started purring. Wizard rose to her feet and arched her back in a luxurious stretch, her focused attention never leaving the Were.
He was dressed for work, which in the FBI world meant black slacks and shoes, crisp white dress shirt, black jacket and a tie. The tie was bright yellow with a picture of Bugs Bunny on it.
He narrowed his luminous silver-green gaze on my cat, and then landed it back on me. "You should check your video readout before opening the door," he said with that kind of authoritative sternness that inspired people like me to do the opposite.
I frowned at him. "What do you want?"
"To hire you." He eyed the cat warily. "But first I need your alibi."
"It's too early for alibis," I said, taking a sip of coffee to cover my surprise. As far as I knew, I hadn't done anything obviously illegal. At least, not lately.
He glided into my office in that graceful, menacing way Weres had, and I buzzed the door closed. Despite looking barely old enough to buy a beer, Cooper radiated energy and purpose like the sun did heat. As the door clicked shut, he filled the space making the bread-box size of my office feel more like a matchbox.
His expression sobered as he eased himself gingerly onto one of the spindly folding chairs. Purring like a race car without a muffler, Wizard leaped from the pile of notices and landed lightly in his lap. His jaw hardened, and Cooper pulled back like people do when a particularly sticky child that isn't theirs toddles up and offers a sample of her lollypop. Did I mention my cat loved him and the feeling wasn't mutual?
He eyed my cat with alarm as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. You'd think he'd be used to that kind of thing from over-excited females. "Where were you last night between the hours of eleven and one?" His hand hovered over the animal's back like he wanted to give her a good shove but was trying to be polite.
I flicked open the strap that secured my gun in its holster, then laced my fingers together on the top of the desk. Something in his tone had sent a spike of alarm shooting up my spine. Preparing for the worst while giving the impression of harmlessness seemed like a good direction to take.
"After the station, I went to Ally's Deli and then Waycorp Market on Crow Street. I buzzed into my apartment and collapsed in bed just before midnight."
"I hope you can prove that."
I gave him a steady look. "Why are we having this conversation, Agent Daine? Am I being accused of something?"
Irritation tightened his mouth, and he tentatively pushed Wizard's shoulder with one finger. She was having none of it. In fact, she looked pretty blissed out from where I was sitting
"Can you get this off of me?" he asked.
"Not until you tell me what's going on."
His annoyance redirected to me as he gingerly lifted his high-tech iC out of his shirt pocket and touched the screen. "Call Ally's and Waycorp," he said into the unit. "See if anyone remembers Ms. Kittner during the times in question."
"Acknowledged," a disembodied voice said from the iC.
I wondered if anyone had even noticed me at the deli and hoped the old computer system at the grocery had been working last night. If not, I'd have to make a run for it. Federal prison wasn't my style.
Wizard started kneading Cooper's crotch and his repulsion got the better of him. While he scooped up the cat to drop her on the floor, I contemplated the strap of his shoulder holster that the movement revealed. If we went for our weapons, how would it play out?
We were both fast, but being a Were, he was just a little faster. If my luck held and I managed to get to my gun first, I'd have to fire quickly and repeatedly to take him down long enough to get away. With enough bullets, I could kill him and assure my escape, but I wouldn't. Cooper was a decent guy and only doing his job. Besides, I wouldn't want to add murder to whatever the FBI suspected I'd done.
"Ally's checks from 10:15 to 11:00, credit unit used again at Waycorp's at 11:22. Apartment log shows 11:51 entry with no exit. Based on apartment location, ascertain impossible for suspect to have been present at time of incident. She's clear," said the dispatcher.
Cooper's shoulders relaxed, or maybe I imagined it. I didn't imagine the thought-melting grin he gave me though. "Thanks, Tim," he said into the iC. Thumbing off the unit, he pocketed it.
I raised a
brow. "Does this mean I'm not suspected of...whatever's going on?"
"The FBI would like to hire you, Ms. Addison, if that would be agreeable. You've proved valuable to us in the past, and we believe you will be in this case as well."
I kept my surprise to myself. "My rates have gone up since last year." Why not, right? The FBI had deep pockets.
"You'll get the standard fee for outsourced contractors."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Without more info, I'll pass."
He settled back in his chair and watched my face with sharp, intelligent eyes. "A vamp with your DNA between his teeth was found drained in an alley between the Magical Gardens apartment building and the Bone and Bat pub. The bartender found the body when he opened up this morning."
"Sounds like a Church hit."
"No sign of a struggle, no indication of more than one assailant, and the body was left where the sun wouldn't reach it."
"And you thought I could pull something like that off? Thanks for the compliment."
He never moved his gaze from my face, but the fingers of his right hand twitched. "I suspect you have...tools available to you that might make it feasible."
I decided to ignore the implication that he knew about my private formulas. As long as he wasn't arresting me, I was happy to play ignorant. "Still sounds like the work of the Church to me."
"They officially deny it."
Now that was interesting. I leaned forward. "It's not like them to be shy about their social policies."
"This victim's not the first," Cooper said. "I was tracking two more cases like it in New York last month when the trail went cold."
"I don't know why you're asking me to help."
His eyes flared with a sudden heat that was quickly dampened. "When I called the Church requesting information, they refused to speak to anyone but the human bounty hunter, Addison Kittner. Direct quote."
A squirmy, run-away-fast feeling crept up my spine. "Not comforting."
"I'm on my way to the crime scene." Wizard wove in and out of his legs, and he tried subtly pushing her away with his foot. "Come with me. Decide when you get there if you want in."
I studied him warily. We had history—a potentially dangerous history if I wanted to keep my sanity. But we worked well together professionally, and I could use the income. On the other hand, giving the Church any kind of help rubbed me the wrong way.
I turned back to the string of moronic messages littering my computer screen. "Sorry. I'm swamped."
He took a deep breath and I glanced at him. A smile flickered at the corner of his full, frighteningly tempting mouth. "You're lying," he said.
I hardened my gaze. Stupid Were sense of smell. "I don't work with institutions anymore, especially the FBI. Too confining."
"For some reason the vamps find you fascinating. We need you on the case."
"Fascinated today, putting a hit out on you tomorrow. They're like cats. The more you dislike them, the more they flock around. Give them a little attention and they scratch you bloody."
"We'll double your fee."
I raised a brow and considered the appeal of buying groceries every week. I might even be able to install a cheap security intercom outside my office door. Too bad it was Cooper offering.
Since when had I become too proud to eat regularly? Yikes.
"I'll agree to take a look at the body—and charge you for my time. After that, no promises," I said, reminding myself that I worked for me and only me. I was not selling out.
Triumph flared across his face so fast, if I'd blinked I would have missed it. An uncomfortable tension settled over my shoulders. I had the terrible feeling that I'd just made some kind of fatal error in a game I had no idea how to play.
* * *
The Magical Gardens apartments were high class and high end compared to my neck of the woods. The building boasted nice, vinyl siding in a soothing cream color, the entrance door was painted white to match the trim around the numerous windows, and there were even boxes of red geraniums framing the front steps. My place had two nice homeless men framing its stoop.
A collection of official vehicles and personnel cluttered around the apartment building and the gray stone pub squatting next to it made for snarled traffic. A cop was doing her best to keep things moving, but it was an uphill battle. Nothing like a good crime scene to go with your morning coffee, I always say.
Cooper cruised up to the officer in his tiny, electric government car and flashed his iC with his badge displayed on the screen. I was glad he had enough authority to get us straight through and heading for a parking place. I wasn't sure I could take much more of the way his moonlight and forest scent affected me. Between that and the almost irresistible urge to brush back his hair where it had fallen across his forehead, I felt like I was boxed up in some kind of torture device.
As soon as Cooper pulled his car up to the curb across from the apartments, I shot out of it like an ax murderer was on my tail.
A crowd of police officers, detectives, a couple coroners and of course the FBI milled around the entrance to the alley between the buildings looking bored. When they spotted Cooper, two of the FBI goons broke from the mob and made a beeline for him.
One of them was a stocky, muscular guy with thinning brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and intelligent dark brown eyes. He didn't radiate the aggressive confidence of the Weres, but instead had a centered self-assurance that pegged him as a high level practitioner. Since the attacks, government agencies and the military made sure they kept a certain percentage of each of the three paranormal types on their payroll.
The other agent was a woman who looked about my age. She was five-six with a medium build, short bright orange hair and amber-brown eyes. She moved in that sleek, restrained way that only a Were can manage and had a thin scar running from under her left ear to within an inch of her windpipe.
"If you'd been another five minutes, we'd have had to let them in," the woman said as she cut in between Coper and me and matched our pace. The other agent trailed a few feet behind us.
"Everything the way the bartender found it?" Cooper asked.
"Yes, sir." She gave me the once over, cataloging my person with an unemotional professionalism. "Why is she here?"
Cooper stopped to let the practitioner come up beside him while he gave the woman a cool look. "Agent Stillman, Agent Miller, let me introduce you to a consultant I've brought in, Addison Kittner."
Agent Stillman's eyes narrowed. "She's human. How can she possibly help?"
"Never underestimate a human," Cooper said, a note of censure in his teasing tone.
The younger agent pressed her mouth into a hard line and had the grace to look chagrined. How she managed to do that with the holier-than-thou hostility radiating off of her was a marvel.
As an orphan in the foster system, I'd learned not to give a rat's tail what anyone thought of me. I pointedly ignored Agent Stillman and her imaginary competition and focused on Cooper. "I haven't agreed to help with the case. First I'll see the body."
His disapproval of the female Were morphed into a sparkle of amusement. He gave me a quick smile and jabbed his thumb toward the alley. Stillman's expression compressed into resentful lines, but I couldn't have cared less. I was bored with the interoffice drama the minute she'd wedged herself between Cooper and me.
I turned my back on them and headed off. I was anxious to get this farce over with so that I could tell Cooper I wasn't interested. Working with him on another case was too risky for my peace of mind. Weres were a tricky species where romance was concerned. They were either the quick fun and games sort or the serious commitment type, and I had a feeling Cooper fell into the latter camp. Commitment was dangerous in my line of work. Attachments made you vulnerable.
Nobody tried to stop me as I ducked under the bright yellow crime scene tape and crossed into the damp half-light of the space between the buildings. The narrow alley was just like every other in the city; dirty, pungent with sour
rotting smells, and lined with several beat-up, rusty trash dumpsters. Until I got to the last dumpster at the end of the alley, that is. Then things got interesting.
A thick, steel rod had been wedged under its lid. What looked like a naked male mummy hung upside down and impaled through the stomach on the rod. The familiar buzz cut black hair and shriveled tattoos covering its arms, chest and neck were the only clues that the thing had been my biter.
I rubbed my left shoulder, remembering the burning sting as his fangs had sunk into me. Even though the wound had nearly healed thanks to the med pack, the memory would linger on. Getting attacked by things that wanted to eat you tended to do that.
I heard the light shuffle of footsteps at the mouth of the alley and wasn't surprised when Cooper stopped next to me a second later. The initial loud movement was a courtesy a lot of Weres employed when out in the professional world. Nothing got you a bad review like gliding up on your coworkers and giving them heart failure.
He didn't need to bother. I always seemed to know when he was within twenty feet of me—a secret I kept to myself.
He nodded toward the body. "What do you think?"
"Grim."
Cooper gave a bark of laughter. "That's an understatement."
I bent down to examine the body and the area around it more closely. A strange scent lingered, sweet and cloying and vaguely familiar. Since "I smell something funny" wasn't exactly what Cooper was looking for, I stowed the impression for later and went with more concrete observations. "Looks like there was an incantation circle around the body, but someone scrubbed it out. What's that circle of white powder next to the dumpster?"
"No idea. We're taking some back to analyze."
"His donor live in the fancy apartments?"
"She claims he stopped in for a feeding plus benefits about midnight last night. Records show he left just before 11:30."
"The Church isn't going to like it that one of them got himself killed in an alley."
