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Full Blooded

Ray fought for control, but I could see he wasn’t going to give up easily. He squared his shoulders and took half a step forward. I had to give him props for trying. He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe you do exist. So what? That doesn’t mean anything. The last time I checked it doesn’t explain away everything else that’s happened around here.” He nodded toward my bare living room, littered with gouges and trashed walls. Point taken.

“No, it doesn’t,” James agreed. “But if I’m not mistaken, isn’t that your job, Detective? To find out exactly what has happened here and why? Correct me if I’m on the wrong track, but as I understand it, the victim is usually not the one harassed by the investigating officer. It’s your job to track down the perpetrators and find the clues. Do you honestly think Molly would trash her own apartment like this?” James’s tone became steely. “I also don’t believe there’ve been any formal charges filed, and from my understanding there has been no theft here, no serious crime, only some unfortunate vandalism.”

A trickle of sweat made its way down the side of Ray’s face, right next to his hairline. Receiving the full attention of a dominant werewolf was taking its toll. “It doesn’t matter if she files,” Ray managed to spit out of very clenched teeth. “This is my case until it’s closed. And you still haven’t adequately explained the illegal concoction we found in your bathroom either. It’s highly suspicious to have a breaking and entering, and the victim just happens to have a stash of drugs in her bathroom cabinet.”

James took a hold of my hand, pulling me against his side. His Irish brogue purred just above my ears as he leaned in. “Now why haven’t you told Detective Hart about your condition, dove?” He nuzzled my neck. “Seizure disorders affect a huge percentage of the population, just like the doctor told us. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Then he turned to Ray. “Has the lab actually confirmed your ridiculous claim of ‘horse tranquilizer’? Or are you going to keep hounding us with that in favor of trying to solve the actual crime committed here?”

Ray had the good decency to look slightly abashed. “Um … no, they haven’t confirmed it exactly. But they couldn’t rule it out either. It seems that the makeup of the liquid was … well, let’s just say it was highly unusual.” He sneered. “And that only adds to the strangeness of this case, and to Hanno—Molly herself. The truth will come out soon enough.” He staggered a bit, this little speech taking every ounce of gusto he had. Then he turned and lurched abruptly toward the door.

He’d lasted longer than most men I’d seen in his position. I could file a harassment suit against him for this visit and we both knew it. He had nothing solid on me, and James had just reinforced that.

When Ray reached the doorway, he pointed an accusing finger at me. “If she has this so-called mystery seizure disorder, which I’m sure no one on earth has ever heard of before, then why isn’t it on file with the state? Huh? She was a cop. All her physicals are on record. Her records are clean. They state she’s in perfect health.”

“Ray,” I said, walking out into my living room. “If you bothered to check, the paperwork for my very real seizure disorder should’ve already been faxed to the precinct by my physician. It’s an affliction I’ve acquired in the last year. I guess I was a late bloomer.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, keeping my robe closed. I didn’t want to flash Ray for the finale. “Have we given you enough to get you off our backs this morning, Ray? ’Cause if we have, I’d just as soon jump in the shower and start my day.”

James came up behind me, a cup of coffee in his hands.

Ray was within an inch of disappearing out the door. “The two of you don’t scare me. You don’t intimidate me, and you don’t make me sweat.” Oh, on the contrary, Ray. “I know what I feel and I’ve been spot-on my entire career for eighteen solid years. There’s something more than meets the eye with you, Hannon. Ever since you tagged Milo Curtis, I’ve known something was off. When you’re around, strange things happen. You do things normal people can’t—and shouldn’t—be able to do. You’re like some kind of doped-up circus freak. You can’t hide forever. At some point you’ll f**k up in a big way, and I’ll be waiting.” He turned and stumbled out of the apartment.

James handed me his cup so he could right the door.

“That’s it!” I cried as James effortlessly propped the door back in place. “After all these years, I get it. I’ve been so stupid.”

“Get what?” James took his cup back and headed toward the kitchen.

I followed. “Ever since Ray Hart zeroed in on me like a bloodhound, I’ve been trying to puzzle out the real catalyst. One day I was living my life, and the next he was dogging my every move. He just inadvertently revealed what set him off. It was Milo Curtis. I don’t know why I never put that together before now.” I stopped at the kitchen doorway. James had his hand on the fridge door, the muscles in his back flexing. I was momentarily lost.

“And who is this Milo Curtis bloke?” James set food on the counter.

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Milo Curtis was Ray’s first big case, that’s who.” I walked over and started helping James with breakfast. “Milo was a big-time cat burglar doing all these huge heists around town. He stole millions. All these rich people with lots of power were getting hit, and subsequently putting pressure on the mayor and police department to find him. Everyone in the precinct was on edge. Evidentially, and unbeknownst to me at the time, he must’ve been Ray’s ticket to the top.”

James grabbed a pan off my hanging rack. “And let me guess, you got this Milo Curtis fellow your first time out, and in the process made the good detective look like a wanker who couldn’t find his own arse with both hands.”

“That about covers it.” I chuckled. “I found out later Milo was a shifter of some kind. He disappeared soon after his arraignment, which is why I thought Ray never cared too much about the case, because it remained unsolved with the suspect on the loose. But the robberies stopped altogether, and it turned out that was all that had mattered to the chief. They didn’t care about an arrest, they just wanted the hits to stop. And they did.”

“Ray Hart is a bloody idiot.” James started to whip the pancake batter. “He could stand to learn a lesson or two.”

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