by Crissy Smith
“Carter,” Trent called as he walked down the steps. “What’s up?”
“You didn’t even bring me anything to eat,” Carter said. He turned in his chair and grinned. “I thought you loved me.”
“Hungry?” Trent taunted. “I heard Kelly is working on a roast.”
“You’re mean,” Carter complained.
“I know. But if you do me a favor, I might bring you a really big plate,” Trent told him. “Because I do love you.” He walked up beside Carter. The little deer shifter had six monitors in front of him, all with different stuff on the screens. Trent didn’t have a clue what any of it meant.
“What do you want?” Carter asked.
“I need you to find out everything you can on someone,” Trent requested. “I mean everything.”
Carter laughed. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a manila folder. He handed it to Trent. “I haven’t shown this to anyone else.”
Confused but willing to play along, Trent opened up the file. The first thing he saw was the official photo from Melissa’s LAPD days. “What’s this?”
“That is everything there is on your girl. From her first day of school to the week before she arrived here. I figured I’d stay out of the sheriff’s records. For now.”
Trent snorted. “Not like you haven’t poked in there before.”
“I plead the fifth,” Carter replied.
He snapped the folder closed. “I don’t need this.”
Carter frowned. “I thought—”
“I know everything I need to about Melissa.” He threw the file down on Carter’s desk.
“I don’t think you do,” Carter spun his chair to him before he rose. “Take my word, you need to read what’s in there.” He picked back up the manila file.
“Fine.” Trent grabbed it before sticking it under his arm. “Now, if you want to earn your dinner, I need my favor.”
“I could call Kelly myself. Or Annabelle. They like me more, anyway.”
“No one likes you more than me.” Trent pinched Carter’s cheek. “Please.”
With a heavy sigh, Carter dropped into his chair. “What do you need?”
“Park ranger, Garth Stevenson,” Trent supplied.
“Ohhhh.” Carter rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“How long do you think it’s going to take?”
“A couple of hours to get the surface stuff and at least a day for the rest.”
“Good enough,” Trent said. “I’ll make sure you get a plate as soon as it’s ready.” He turned and walked off.
“Trent?”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“Read it,” Carter told him. Then he bent over his keyboard and started to type.
Trent didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to promise anything. He strolled up the stairs. As he walked down the hall, Kelly was heading toward him. “That for Carter?” he asked, nodding to the plate of food.
“Yep,” she replied. “If I don’t take it to him, he’ll starve before leaving his cave.”
“Will you tell him I asked you to bring it down?” he requested.
Kelly laughed. “Trying to earn favors?”
“Always.” He passed by, continuing to his room.
Once inside, Trent threw the folder onto his mattress before stomping over to the mini-fridge. It was only big enough to hold a couple of cans of beer and some bottles of water, but it was enough for him. There was no way he was going to spy on his ex-girlfriend without a beer. And he didn’t want to go back to the bar floor where he’d have to watch Logan and Annabelle being in love. Not that he was jealous, He wasn’t, not really.
He grabbed a can of beer then plopped down on the bed. Adjusting the pillows behind him, Trent stared at his boots. The file lay right next to them. If he opened this door, he wouldn’t be able to go back.
Carter was the best at ferreting out all kinds of information.
Trent was only now able to look at Melissa without anger taking over. If he saw what she’d been up to for the last several years, would Trent be able to look her in the eye again? He just didn’t know the answer to that question. But he didn’t like being in the dark about things, either.
Fuck, now that he had the damn folder, he had to look.
He leaned forward and snagged the file then popped open his beer. It looked like he had a long night of reading ahead of him. Trent skimmed over the early years of Melissa’s life. He already knew most of it, anyway, from when they’d been dating. He couldn’t look at the section that covered his partner’s death, though. Carter had included a copy of the report Trent had filed. The connection Carter had found was weak. There’d been phone calls from Melissa’s apartment to Adam’s cell phone. Of course. Trent knew he’d made those calls.
The LAPD investigation into Adam’s death had been a joke, even tying Melissa and Adam together. Like they were having an affair, even though Adam was married. There was no mention of Trent at all. What a crock of shit. Everyone knew about him and Melissa. Before he’d come out as a shifter, they’d been open about their relationship.
She’d been transferred to a new department not long after he’d left. That was where he started to read. Just the first few paragraphs in, he knew he was going to need more beer.
It was both better and worse than he’d expected.
Trent was proud of Melissa but ashamed of himself.
No wonder Magnus had hired her. She’d been all up in the LAPD bosses’ faces about the treatment of shifters until she left to move to Brookside.
He’d underestimated her.
Damn, he needed more than a beer. A couple of shots or a bottle might do the trick.
Chapter Five
Grant Stevenson should not have been working for a federal agency or anywhere near law enforcement. How in the hell did he get the job? The guy had had numerous complaints made against him, but they’d all been dropped.
The complaints, made by shifters, had increased in the past year.
Melissa knew in her gut there was something wrong with Grant. Now she needed to put all the pieces together. Magnus had every reason to be suspicious.
“I brought you a coffee.”
She glanced up at where Logan was leaning over her desk. “What?”
Logan held up a Styrofoam cup. “Coffee?”
“Oh, God, yes!” She reached for the cup.
He pulled it back. “Whatcha working on?”
“I’ll tell you if you give me the coffee,” she retorted.
Logan handed her the coffee.
Melissa took a sip before sighing. “I needed that.”
“Grant Stevenson,” Logan stated. “Tell me what you’ve found.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“I talked to Trent last night. Then find you in the office before anyone else. I can put two and two together.”
“This guy is something else,” Melissa told him.
“I don’t disagree,” Logan said.
“Did Annabelle say anything about him?” she asked. There had to be more than the guy giving Annabelle the creeps. Melissa wished she was closer to Annabelle to get some answers.
“I haven’t asked her yet,” Logan said. “I wanted to find out what I could on my own first. I don’t want her involved in this investigation.”
Melissa smiled. “Please let me be in the room when you tell her.”
Logan snorted. “I won’t put it in those words. I’m not stupid.”
Melissa nodded as she drank more coffee. “Look at this.” She pushed a paper she’d printed out earlier. It showed all the cases in which Grant’s name had been mentioned. Even though nothing had gone to court, the digital age made record-keeping so much better.
“Shit.” Logan sat on the edge of her desk.
“He doesn’t like shifters,” Melissa said. “I’m trying to go back further to see where this hatred comes from. I’m not getting anywhere, though. There are some closed files that have
to do with his family. I think it’s his brother. A judge ordered them sealed, however. Which is weird, because his brother isn’t a minor.”
“Political?”
“Maybe.”
Logan glanced toward the back, where the holding cells were located. “Have you checked on our prisoner?”
“No.” Melissa shook her head. “James was still here when I arrived. I offered to man the phones so he could take off. He checked on Bono just before he left.”
“I’m going to question him this morning before I have Fabian and Fredrick transfer him to the Coalition custody. He hasn’t said one word, but I’m remaining hopeful.”
“I hope you can get something from him,” Melissa said. “I wonder if it was Stevenson who Magnus followed the other night.”
“I don’t think so,” Logan said. “Magnus would have recognized his scent.”
“Oh, I didn’t think about that,” Melissa admitted. “It’s so cool everything you guys can do.”
Logan chuckled. “It helps, although we’re having trouble getting the courts to recognize our abilities. Saying you knew who the perp was because of his scent is controversial.”
“I bet,” Melissa commented. “Still, it narrows down the suspect list.”
“It does.” Logan rose. “I’d better get to work. You’ll let me know whatever else you find?”
“Of course,” she agreed.
He started to walk away but paused. “I wanted to say thanks.”
She turned her chair around. “For?”
“Looking out for Annabelle. She’ll be the first one to tell you she can take care of herself, and she can, but she doesn’t always think before she acts.”
“Annabelle is great. I don’t want anything to happen to her or anyone else around here. Magnus brought me in to keep everyone safe, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
Logan grinned. “So, anyway, thanks.” He walked away before she could respond.
Feeling better than she had in a couple of days, Melissa turned back to her research.
She ran through Grant’s associates and family. Maybe there was a connection there with a shifter somewhere. Scrolling through the information she found, Melissa started the painstaking task of trying to figure out Grant’s ultimate plan. Melissa was sure Grant was responsible for what was happening in Brookside.
The phone on the desk rang and she picked up the receiver. “Sheriff’s office,” she answered.
“Who’s this?” the male voice on the other end demanded.
Melissa rolled her eyes, but had to remain professional. “This is Deputy Bishop. Can I help you?”
“You’re the new one? The human?”
“Yes, sir, but I’m an experienced officer. Did you need some help?”
The man huffed. “This is Lewis Grainger. Someone has been trespassing on my land. I want the sheriff here.”
“Yes, Mr. Grainger. Can I get your address?”
He growled. “The sheriff knows where it is!”
“I understand, sir. If I could have it for my report, please? I’ll make a report and call Sheriff Magnus. Will that work?”
“Fine. It’s 211 Fairgrounds Road.”
“And have you seen anyone?”
“No, just footprints and the scent of someone I don’t know. I want this investigated. I know there is something fishy going on.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get someone over there shortly.”
Mr. Grainger hung up on her.
“Great,” Melissa grumbled.
“Problem?” Logan called.
“A resident called and said he’s had trespassers on his property. He didn’t recognize the scent.”
“Where?” Logan asked.
“Two hundred blocks off Fairgrounds Road.”
“Call Magnus and tell him we’ll meet him there. The Graingers’ place is connected to the state park on the other side of town. It may be how the hunters are coming into town,” Logan said.
Melissa jumped to her feet while grabbing her cell phone. She made the call even as she scrambled to gather her belongings and shoved them into her bag. Logan was already striding toward the front door. She had to rush to catch up.
Remembering she’d promised to watch the phones, she stopped at Carl’s desk and hit the Transfer button before punching in her number. The calls would be redirected to her cell phone.
By the time she got outside, Logan was in his truck, motioning her to join him.
She raced over to the passenger side and yanked open the door. She jumped in, but before she could get the door closed, Logan was already backing up.
“Logan!” she called.
“Sorry!” Logan was speeding down the street. “We’ve been all over the stretch connected to the state park, but haven’t been able to locate where the hunters are coming in. This is our best lead so far.”
Melissa could understand why this was so important. If Magnus or Logan recognized the scents, they’d know who was involved. Who couldn’t be trusted. “Just don’t kill us on the way there.”
He slowed down. “Right.”
Logan didn’t have lights or sirens on his truck, but they still made it across town in a matter of minutes. He did take his foot off the gas when they reached the gates leading up a gravel drive. The gates were open and, as they drove forward, she saw an older man standing out front of the two-story ranch style home, holding a shotgun.
“Is that Grainger?” she asked Logan.
“I hope so,” Logan replied. He glanced over at her after stopping in front of the older gentleman. “Or we are going to have bigger problems.”
“Well, let’s talk to him.” She opened the door, but kept her hand by her side where her weapon was in reach.
“Mr. Grainger?” Logan called. He too was standing with his hand on his weapon.
“Who’re you?” Mr. Grainger asked. “Where’s the sheriff?”
“He’s on his way,” Melissa said. “I’m Deputy Bishop. I spoke to you on the phone.”
Mr. Grainger sniffed. “The human.” Then he turned his gaze to Logan. He sniffed again, but this time his eyes narrowed. “Lion?”
“Yes, sir,” Logan replied. He pulled out his badge and ID from his breast pocket. “I’m Agent Logan Coldwell with the Shifter Coalition.”
“Annabelle’s fellow?” Mr. Grainger questioned.
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Grainger lowered the gun. “That’s fine, then. Come along and I’ll show you the tracks. I don’t have all day.”
Logan glanced over at her and grinned. Melissa rolled her eyes. Sure. She couldn’t be trusted because she was human and Logan being with the Coalition didn’t matter. But because Logan was dating Annabelle, they were now deemed acceptable.
The old man didn’t wait for them. He strode away.
It was a big place. There was a wooden fenced lining the outer edge of the property, but the fence was only about four feet high. Easy enough for someone to jump over.
“Keep up,” Mr. Grainger snapped.
Melissa hurried to catch up. Logan was peering around as she had been.
Once they rounded the house, there were several buildings scattered about. Perfect spots for someone to hide in. Melissa waved her hand to get Logan’s attention.
Logan lifted his head and sniffed. Then looked over and shook his head.
She had to trust Logan knew for a fact that no one else was around. Melissa didn’t feel comfortable, though, so she unsnapped her holster.
Neither shifter appeared nervous.
It must be nice to have such strong senses. Melissa could’ve used that enhanced ability when she’d been with the LAPD. Too bad the other cops hadn’t learned to utilize the skills the shifters could bring.
Mr. Grainger stopped around some stalls covered in hay but without any animals. Logan and Melissa stepped up on either side of the older shifter.
“There.” He pointed.
Melissa tried to see what Mr. Grainger was pointing at. There was not
hing there.
“Ah,” Logan said. He crouched down. “At least three people.”
“The tracks weren’t here two nights ago,” Mr. Grainger stated. “I just moved the horses out to the pasture so I can fix up the stalls.”
“Yeah, they’re recent,” Logan agreed.
Melissa stepped closer before leaning down beside Logan. She saw the very faint outline of a boot. Wow, for Mr. Grainger to spot that, he has to have excellent sight even at his age.
“It’s not any of the men who work for me, either,” Mr. Grainger said. “The scent is human.”
Logan turned his head. “And I recognize one of the scents.” He nodded to Melissa.
“Stevenson?” she asked.
“Yep, one of the other scents is familiar, but I can’t place it. Not yet.”
“Does this have to do with the illegal hunting?” Mr. Grainger demanded.
“Sir…” Melissa stood. “Maybe you should—”
“Don’t you try to handle me, little missy. This is my community and I’ll protect it.” Mr. Grainger lifted the shotgun over his head.
She needed to deal with this situation right or the residents were never going to trust her. Logan started to stand, but Melissa waved him off. If she let Logan stick up for her, then she wouldn’t earn Mr. Grainger’s respect.
Melissa turned to the older shifter. “Mr. Grainger, you’re right—this is your community. It’s also mine. I know you’re concerned for your family, friends and neighbors. I share that concern as well. I might be human, but I am here to help. I was only going to suggest you go out front and wait for Magnus. He’ll be here any minute. He’ll want to talk to you to see if you’ve noticed anything else.”
Mr. Grainger nodded. “Of course. I should have thought about that. I’ll go wait for the sheriff.” He took off and Melissa sighed.
“Nicely done,” Logan praised.
“They’re never going to accept me,” she complained.
“Give it time.”
She snorted. “Which is exactly what Magnus says.”
“He knows what he’s talking about. When I arrived, I was an agent who was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. No one would talk to me. They avoided me whenever I was around even after I started dating Annabelle. Finally, they’ve opened up and somewhat accepted me. But as you could see from earlier, I’m still not truly trusted.”
