by E A Price
Gunner gripped Marvin’s collar with increasing tightness and brought his furious red face directly in front of the chipmunk. The polar bear looked like he wanted to rip something apart – anything – and since he already had hold of something…
Marvin tried not to whimper, but he needn’t have worried. Within seconds, Gunner’s anger dissipated as Erin placed a hand on his forearm.
“Uh, Gunner, I think we’ve imposed upon Marvin enough for today,” she murmured soothingly.
He carefully let Marvin go, and to the surprise of the chipmunk shifter, he actually straightened out his collar.
“I’m sorry Marvin,” he muttered.
“No, no, no problem,” stammered Marvin, beating a hasty retreat, “it was probably my fault.”
Gunner grunted in agreement, but Erin gave him a scowl.
He spread out his hands. “What?”
“It says a lot about a person’s personality and their behavior when they virtually attack someone, and then that someone blames himself for it.”
“I didn’t hurt him,” griped Gunner defensively.
Erin rolled her eyes. “No! You just scared the hell out of him.”
What was this about? He’d acted this way since… well, forever, and no one had ever called him on it. Maybe no one had ever dared to. His bear, he noticed, was unusually silent, torn between agreeing with her and actually standing up for his behavior. Now who was the pussy?
“Maybe you should try being a little nicer,” suggested Erin.
She sounded like an admonishing school teacher. Actually, that was kind of sexy. He could imagine her in thigh-highs and glasses trying to teach him, her unruly student. Of course, he’d be the one doing the spanking…
“Yeah, bossman,” said Cutter, roughly cutting through his fantasy, “you catch more flies with honey. That’s always been my motto.”
Since when?! His beast roared in consternation. Cutter was an even bigger asshole than he was!
“If we’re being picky, you could catch more flies with manure,” grouched Gunner. “C’mon.”
He took hold of Erin’s upper arm, leading her through the throng to Jessie’s office, and ignoring the urge to punch Cutter right in his smug, wolfy face.
“Anything?” demanded Gunner brusquely as soon as they saw the bubbly squirrel shifter.
Erin threw him another glance of disapproval, and his bear nudged at him. Fine!
“Hello, Jessie, how are you? Do you have anything for us?” he amended.
The squirrel beamed at him in delighted surprise while Cutter tried to stifle chuckles of derision - unsuccessfully. He didn’t care though, well, maybe a little, but it was worth it to see the shy approval in Erin’s smile.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” grinned Jessie. “I’m still going through his financials, nothing seems out of the ordinary, but there are a couple of large charges that I’m still figuring out. As for his background, he’s as clean as a whistle. Wayne’s still interviewing his friends, and Avery’s trying to find a way that the body made it to Cinderella’s facility. She’s trying to talk to all the people who have contracts with Cinderella, but there are a lot of them.”
“I see,” he growled.
Gunner let out a long ragged, breath. Ordinarily this would be the point where he would be frustrated at their lack of progress and would throw things across the room. He could see that Jessie was actually standing in front of her desk, trying to shield all the items on there, and Cutter had taken a few steps away from him. Well, they needn’t have worried. In deference to his little human, who he was all for impressing, he was going to try a calmer approach.
“Anything useful from the tips?” he asked, almost casually.
Jessie scrunched up her nose in surprise and let her guard down a little. “Ah, umm, yes, maybe. We had one that said the heart had been bought for an illegal transplant, and it gave us a cell phone number of a person to contact about it.”
“That’s pretty specific for the tip line,” mused Cutter.
Erin looked between the three of them. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” explained Jessie, “usually we just get tons of calls about alien abductions and people trying to blame neighbors they don’t like for it. It’s rare that we get anything helpful.”
Gunner rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Did you get anything from the number?”
Jessie shook her head. “It was from a burner phone, which I’m guessing has been dumped by now. But, I did get the location of where the call was made from; it’s a diner down by the docks.”
She passed him a post-it with the details. Gunner showed it to Cutter, and he nodded. It wasn’t exactly the most reputable part of town, so it was probably worth a look.
“Cutter and I will check it out. Erin, tell Jessie about your vision and see if you can get any security footage from around the club that night. Otherwise, I want you to check out Silver’s belongings, and see if you can get anything from them. Jessie, check in with the director and let him know what’s happening.”
“Me?” squeaked Jessie, in dismay.
“Yes, you. Keep in touch.”
As they left, Gunner felt Erin tugging on his arm. He told Cutter to wait for him in the car, and, grumbling, the wolf shifter stomped away. Moody bastard.
Gunner looked at her in concern. “Everything okay, babe?”
He’d been a little edgier than usual ever since the incident at the club. Seeing her like that, in a trance, had been chilling. His bear hadn’t liked it one bit.
“I just wanted to tell you to be careful.”
He smiled, warmed by her sentiment. “I’ll be fine, you be careful, too.”
Erin gave him a rueful smile. “I’ll try not to get too many paper cuts, or drop a stapler on my foot.”
“That’s my girl.”
He would have kissed her goodbye, but at the moment Diaz came sauntering down the corridor. Fucking jaguar always seemed just to pop up whenever Erin was around. Diaz grinned at Erin in no doubt what he thought was a panty-wetting smile. His bear snarled lowly. That cat better keep his damn paws off. Diaz nodded at him and gave him a sour look. Huh. Whatever Gunner did to deserve that, he sure hoped it had hurt the jaguar.
He settled for squeezing Erin’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
*
The diner was a pretty sleazy affair called the Brown Bear because it was run by a brown bear. It appeared to be popular because it served alcohol.
Cutter and Gunner sat outside watching the Diner from a distance.
“Do you reckon they have security cameras?” asked Gunner.
The wolf shifter snorted. “Doubtful, I can’t imagine anyone would want video evidence of what goes on in there.”
Gunner grunted in agreement and scanned the surrounding buildings. They were mostly run-down apartment buildings, and it was unlikely that they had security either. They were hesitant about going into the diner. Although the two of them could hardly be called the most civilized of shifters, they would be made as cops immediately. They didn’t want to risk whoever made the tip actually getting tipped off that they were looking for him.
Instead, he replayed the recording out loud. Jessie had sent the audio file to his phone. It was a gruff, voice, and it was clear that the speaker was trying to put on an accent to hide his voice. Unfortunately, no one in the world spoke with an accent like that, so it just made him more conspicuous. It also indicated to them that the speaker thought they might know his voice if they heard it.
“I’ve heard the voice before,” said Cutter.
“Me too,” added Gunner. “I’ve heard it, but it’s not someone I interviewed or arrested.”
They played the recording a few more times while watching the entrance to the diner, before getting lucky.
Gunner jerked his jaw up in the direction of the diner door. “Look.”
Cutter snarled as he saw the man in question. It was Alfie Morehouse, number one stooge to Tom ‘the hammer’ Murphy –
one of the nastiest creatures to ever step foot in Los Lobos. He gave all shifters a bad name.
“That’s the voice – it’s Alfie,” muttered Cutter shaking his head in disbelief.
Gunner seconded that. “We should have recognized it.”
They watched as the hulking frame of Alfie lumbered into the diner. The man could never be described as graceful, but as an elephant shifter, he was freaking tough. Added to the fact that he had no morals to speak of and a penchant for inflicting pain, if you saw him charging at you, you got the hell out of the way – fast.
“Haven’t seen him in a while,” said Gunner, thoughtfully.
Cutter gave him a significant look. “Not since Murphy disappeared.”
About a year ago someone hired a hitman to come after Tom. Not just any hitman, a vampire hitman. Whoever hired him must have paid a fortune, because he didn’t work cheap. It was strongly suggested that after years of suffering, Tom’s own daughter had snapped and done the hiring. The details of what happened were kind of fuzzy, all the reports said was that the hitman managed to stab Tom in the heart with a silver knife and then Tom ripped the hitman’s head off. Tom hadn’t been seen since, and, given that silver is deadly to shifters, it was widely believed that Tom was dead.
Of course, if Tom had managed to cling to life, his heart would be beyond the repair of his natural healing abilities, and he would need a new one. And Tom just happened to be a hippo shifter.
The watched, eagerly, as Alfie ambled out of the diner, carrying three big brown bags, presumably filled with greasy food. He hopped into an SUV and started moving.
Gunner started the engine. “Let's go find out what Alfie is up to.”
He followed at a discreet distance, trying not to spook the elephant shifter, who seemed to be driving a little erratically. Gunner shook his head; all he was doing was drawing more attention to himself. Not the brightest bulb…
Cutter folded his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. The wolf shifter didn’t like to be driven anywhere; he liked to drive. But then, so did Gunner. They both were in possession of an asshole Alpha gene and while they generally coped, the need for control, the need to be in charge was always there. It just meant that they became grouchy and angry over the smallest things. Gunner felt satisfied and appeased his beast by leading his team; he wasn’t too sure how Cutter ever managed to placate his howling wolf. He doubted he would catch Cutter doing yoga…
The wolf fidgeted and huffed. “I don’t know why we’re even bothering to investigate. Why don’t we just go back to the office and wait for our psychic to see a vision? Or even better, wait for her to have a tea party when the ghost of our victim shows up.”
Gunner ignored the furious wails of his bear. It was just Cutter being Cutter. He put Wayne through hell when he joined the team, and Avery just about had to claw his eyes out to prove she was capable. If anyone other than Cutter had made such sneering remarks about Erin, he wouldn’t have let it go, but he and Cutter went back as far as the academy. They’d both transferred out to Los Lobos together. Hard to believe, but they were actually the best of friends. They were just the kind of friends who didn’t pry into one another’s lives.
“Why don’t you give Erin some slack?”
Cutter’s lips curled upwards. “You asking that because you think she deserves it or because you’re sleeping with her? And don’t bother denying that.”
His bear let out a warning snarl. “How did you know?”
He snickered. “You’re not exactly James Bond. I see the way you look at her; you look like a 13-year-old girl who just got tickets to see her favorite boy band. The sappy, dreamy look on your face makes me want to puke. Then there’s your scent, you two can slap on as much aftershave and perfume as you want, but the two of you reek of each other. And don’t even get me started about when you were kissing her hair in the alley earlier. Then there was…”
“Does anyone else know?” Gunner interrupted forcefully.
“Not from me, how long’s it been going on?”
“Just a few days.”
Cutter blew out a breath through his teeth. “You planning on this going somewhere? Because I don’t think she’s the type of woman who would be okay with a couple of quick fucks and then curtains. She looks like a clinger. The only way to get rid of her would be to get her to latch onto someone else.”
Gunner roared furiously, almost jerking the car as his bear tried to push forwards. No one else would touch his mate!
Cutter snorted. “Jeez, you’re screwed. The Director’s going to toast your marshmallows for this. Seducing his new pet? He’s going to be pissed.”
He gripped the steering wheel tightly, making sure his hands didn’t accidentally stray and wrap themselves around Cutter’s neck. “He’ll get over it.”
The wolf made a tut-tut noise. “He won’t let you work together.”
“We’ll deal with that.”
“Do you think the Director will choose you over her? You’ll be lucky if you don’t find yourself down in the archives for breaking up his dream team.”
“I don’t care,” hissed Gunner at Cutter’s increasingly heated tone.
“You don’t care that you might get booted off the team?” asked Cutter incredulously.
“No,” he replied simply, and he was surprised at himself. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but if he did have to leave the team for her, then it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He loved her, and he’d do anything to keep her.
Crap. He loved her. He’d fallen hard and fast, and that was that. He just wished that he’d realized how strong his feeling were for her when he was with her, instead of trapped in an increasingly stuffy car with an increasingly irate wolf shifter.
“What about us?”
The wolf had been sullen, petulant even, and Gunner almost laughed. From obnoxious man to whiny child in two seconds – nobody could say the wolf shifter was boring.
“I’m replaceable.”
“Replaceable? Fuck you. Did you even give any consideration to the rest of the team? Or were you just thinking with your dick?”
Gunner bared his fangs. “Are you kidding me with this? You’re pissed at me because you think I’m letting my dick do my thinking?” That was the pot calling the kettle horny…
“I spent two weeks thinking of the consequences, but when it came down to it, I just wanted her. She’s my mate, and I’m not letting anyone stand in the way of her being mine.”
Cutter sucked in a horrified breath. “Rather you than me.”
He rolled his eyes. Yes, he imagined the thought of only being with one woman for the rest of his life would be horrifying to the wolf.
“Well, what are we supposed to do in the interim? Teammates can’t date.”
“No, but they can get married.”
Dumb rule as far as he was concerned. The idea was that married couples were more settled and less likely to cause upset among their teammates. It didn’t work that way. Only a couple of shifter co-workers had gotten married, and they had both fought tooth and nail right up until they divorced, and both requested transfers to different ends of the country.
“You’re seriously thinking of marrying her?” exclaimed Cutter in disbelief.
Gunner was torn between being affronted that Cutter really couldn’t see why anyone would want to marry his perfect Erin, and pleased that the wolf was immune to her charms that had him panting for breath. He was a contrary fool.
“I told you, she’s my mate,” he bit out, holding back his raging animal. Why was the wolf questioning that fact?
Cutter narrowed his eyes. “Have you told her any of this?”
“Not yet. Right now, she thinks we’re dating.” Ugh, dating. Not the kind of thing he usually went in for, but he couldn’t deny that just spending time with Erin wonderful.
“Don’t tell her, she’d probably run for the hills.”
Gunner raised his eyebrows. “One second I can’t get rid of her and the nex
t I can’t hold onto her. Is she clingy or running for the hills?”
“I’ll bet she’s just a typical human female. Only wanting things she can’t have, and when she gets them she runs away scared.”
Given Cutter’s track record with women, taking advice from him was never going to end well. “How you ever manage to get laid is a complete mystery to me,” he muttered.
“Must be my looks,” preened the wolf.
“Well, it’s not your personality; that’s for damn sure.”
Cutter snorted. “The situation’s not all bad, at least I’m going to win the bet.”
“Bet?”
“Yeah, the one about who’s going to sleep with Erin first. Or who was, it’s a moot point now.”
Gunner growled ferociously, but Cutter ignored him. “Unless our Erin is a dark horse, you got there first, and since I put a large bet on you this morning, it means I’m going to win. Your odds went way up when I placed the bid, by the way. Diaz was not pleased.”
As opposed as he was to the bet, he couldn’t help but feel a prickle of pleasure at that. No wonder Diaz had looked like he wanted to turn him into a bearskin rug that morning.
“Look, he’s stopping.”
Alfie pulled up in front of a trailer in an empty construction site, and Gunner stopped a way back to watch as Alfie took all the bags of food into the trailer.
“What do we bet that Murphy’s in that trailer?”
Gunner gave him a grim smile. “Let’s go find out.”
*
Gunner folded his arms over his chest and tried not to laugh as Tom ‘the hammer’ Murphy tried to wriggle his considerable bulk out of a narrow window.
Cutter had banged on the door while Gunner went round the back, just in case something like this might happen. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
“You okay there, Tom?” drawled Gunner lazily.
The hippo shifter looked up at him and sneered. It was Tom Murphy alright; from his bulbous nose to the scar bisecting his face, no one could fail to recognize his ugly mug.
“Just going for a walk,” he lied as he reluctantly backed up through the window.
Gunner scratched his chin. “I’d advise using the front door in future.”
