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

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,