Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery Book 1, Jaime Johnesee [i have read the book txt] 📗

end or I was among the first for the well-loved after lunch pot.

"Hey, Sam!" Sheila smiled.

"Hi, Sheila. James, bless you for your coffee contributions. You deserve sainthood for this. Hey, Gerry, I ran into Q and he told me I could find you in here. Figured I'd grab a cup of the good stuff myself and walk with you to your office." By the time I'd finished speaking I'd already poured myself a cup, added sugar and milk, and grabbed a blueberry muffin.

Yes, I know I'd just eaten a fairly full brunch, but my metabolism was like a hummingbird's. I needed to eat often, and a fair amount, or I lost some control over my shifting abilities.

"Sounds good," Gerry told me before turning to James and Sheila. "Get on the phones and see what surveillance footage you can dig up from around our scenes. Check the usual traffic cameras, ATMs, and stores. If you come up bust check the civvies and see if any of them caught anything on tape. Oh, and James, stellar coffee, thanks, kid."

"Anytime, boss. Hey, Sam, can I catch you before you leave tonight? I have a question." James reddened and I figured he must have some more questions about an Internet dating site he had just signed up to.

"Sure thing. After our meeting, if I've got time before we have to interview a witness, I'll swing by your desk. Thanks again for the coffee, you're a lifesaver."

"I baked the muffins," Sheila spoke up.

She sounded angry and looked as though I had snubbed her.

"Thank you for the muffins, you rock." I gave her my most thankful smile and followed Gerry out.

We fell in step together and chatted as we walked.

"What witness?" Gerry asked.

"Josh found a priest that said Grisly came to him for confession. He doesn't break the seal of confession lightly and is only doing so with permission, because he thinks more people will be hurt."

"Priests are good in front of juries ... mostly."

"That's pretty much what I said."

"Always said you were smart." He smiled at me.

"Thanks. I just want to find this monster and keep him from hurting anyone else."

"I know you do, Sam; just don't get too obsessed with this case. Getting stuck in the work is what killed my marriage."

I didn't believe him.

It's my opinion that his bitch of a wife cheating on him is responsible for killing his marriage, but, hey, what do I know?

"If you say so. You know my opinion on it."

"Look, Sam, Angie wouldn't have stepped out if I’d been around more, or at least been more involved with her when I was around. I let the job be my life. There isn’t a soul in this world who'll take that on forever and be happy. Relationships are a two-way street."

"Wise words, sir." I didn't fully agree.

Angie knew what she signed on for; she was just a spoiled rich bitch who expected her hubby to buy her everything she wanted while she slept around with various country club employees.

We walked into his office and I sat next to Quinn. I took a sip of my coffee and could barely contain my near orgasm at the taste of it. Ye gods, was there anything better in this world than a really good cup of joe?

"Sam filled me in on the preacher man. What else do we have in the way of evidence on this case?" Gerry grumbled then took a sip of his coffee and you could see the tension melt away for just a second.

I’m not kidding or exaggerating, it really was a damned good cup of coffee.

"Well, Sam came up with a notion that our vics might be lycans or vamps, so we're meeting up with some corpse grabbers that have come up with a blood test to differentiate."

"Corpse grabbers?" Gerry raised a black bushy eyebrow at Quinn.

"Coroners, sir."

"Ah. Rather heavy term there, O'Reilly."

"I know. I just figured it was apt." Quinn shrugged and reddened.

"Oh, I didn't say it wasn't amusing. I merely called it heavy. Just remember we count on those corpse grabbers to help us do our jobs. Alienating them will only cause us problems later down the road. Catch my drift?"

"Yes, sir." Quinn shifted uncomfortably in his seat and I felt bad for him.

He wasn't a mean guy. He's not the sort that makes fun of others. He's really more the kind of guy who would step in and take the side of someone being called a name.

"So, we have the meeting with the priest, Sheila and James are checking on camera footage from the surrounding stores, Josh is looking into the blood typing kit, and here is the forensics report." I handed him the file with the reports and test results inside.

"Huh, says here we got all kinds of fingerprints and fibers including some believed to be from our killer. Nothing in the database to match those, though." He sighed and rubbed his thick hand over his eyes. "Nothing is ever easy in this stupid business."

"Anything on the vics? Do we have IDs yet?"

"Not yet. The clothes he leaves behind screams prostitute. The DNA on the clothing matches the pieces of people in the bathtubs. At least we've got that much. I'll have Grace ask her team to run DNA profiles to check for lycan/vamp status."

"Is it possible he's an Americans for a Were-Free America nutjob?"

"I don't know, Sam; I suppose anything is possible, but the AWFA doesn't really stand behind violence like this." Quinn held up his hands at my withering glance.

"No,” I hissed. “They just train nutjobs how to kill and then let them go in and ruin society while pretending they don't know them."

So maybe I wasn’t the best person to look at the organization with a neutral eye. Mostly because the AWFA was on my shit list.

"Don't let this get personal, Reece," Gerry cautioned.

"It's always going to be personal when someone wants to threaten my life because I got bit and can't be human anymore. I didn't choose this