Hotter After Midnight (Midnight 1)

The captain grunted but stepped back so that Brooks could make his way over to Emily. She watched him with lowered brows as he approached, her lips slightly pursed.

Colin crossed to Emily’s side, deliberately positioning himself next to her.

Brooks held out his hand. “Dr. Drake, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He flashed his pretty-boy smile. “I’m Colin’s partner, Detective Todd Brooks.”

Emily took his hand, held it for all of three seconds— yeah, he counted—then pulled away. “Nice to meet you, Detective.” Her hair was still loose around her shoulders and the lenses of her glasses glinted faintly in the light. Her stare fell on Danny. “Will Detective Brooks be joining us for the briefing?”

“Ah, no, he—”

“I’ve got orders to head home tonight,” Brooks murmured. “But I’ll look forward to discussing the case with you soon.”

She nodded.

Brooks gave a little salute. “Night, guys.” Then he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.

Emily stepped back into her makeshift office. Colin and Danny crowded in behind her. When Colin kicked the door closed, the bustle of noise from the station immediately quieted.

“So what do you have for us, Doc?” he asked, his gaze dropping to the crime scene photos spread across her desk.

Her hand lifted and she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got a basic profile going so far. You’re probably looking for a male—but you already knew that. Shifters are predominately male. And in this case, the killer had to be damn strong to overpower Preston. Another point for a man. The level of raw violence is also an indicator that the perp is male.”

Yeah, Colin had already guessed they were looking for a guy. “Keep going.”

“The killer’s young, probably in his mid-twenties to late thirties, and it’s a good bet that he lives in the area.”

“How do you know he’s not a drifter?” the captain asked, and Colin knew he was hoping the killer was a one-hit wonder who’d just been passing through.

“He knew the house,” Emily explained. “Knew the neighborhood. Knew how to get in and out without being seen. This guy knew Preston. He’s not an out-of-towner who just popped in and randomly decided to murder the vic.” And stranger crimes didn’t usually have this dangerous level of rage.

“Well, shit.” McNeal looked even more disgruntled than usual. “There’ve been some rumblings upstairs about this guy being a serial.” He leveled a hard look at the doc. “You told me before you thought he’d do it again.”

“Yes, I did.” Her lips pursed. “But so far, this guy doesn’t fit the strict definition of a serial.”

“You mean because he hasn’t killed three people?” Colin asked.

She nodded. “The FBI requires three victims before the label of serial killer can be applied. So far, we’ve only got one body.”

The doc was holding back. He could feel it. “But?”

“But I think he’s killed before.” She touched the security photo of the hooded figure entering the Myers house. “This guy is confident. He had his plan in mind, probably for days before the actual attack. And there were no hesitation wounds on the victim’s body.” Her tongue snaked out, licked her bottom lip. “He went straight for the kill. This guy’s no amateur, no first-timer feeling his way. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“But until we find more bodies, we can’t say he’s a serial,” McNeal muttered.

“Right.”

Colin didn’t think that was a particularly bad thing. The public tended to panic when they got news that a serial killer was on the streets, and a panicked public could be very dangerous.

“If he is a true serial killer, he won’t attack anyone else right away. He’ll wait and have a cooling-off time. Could be for a few days or it could be years.” She began to straighten the photos, putting them into a nice, neat pile. “Course, since the guy’s a shifter, the normal serial rules might not apply at all.”

“What rules would apply?” This came from the captain, who was no longer leaning back against the wall. He’d shot to attention as Emily spoke, and now he stood at the edge of the table, arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, if we’re right and he is a shifter, then here are a few generalities for you.” She didn’t glance toward Colin as she spoke. “The guy’s about five times stronger than a human male. He’s highly sexual, got an extremely high IQ, and he’s damn good at manipulation.”

Colin stiffened at that. “Manipulation?” He didn’t particularly like that term.

Her head turned slowly, and she met his gaze. “Shifters are born looking human, but they carry beasts their whole lives. They have to hide their animal natures, have to pretend to be just like everyone else, and usually, by the time shifters reach adulthood, they’re damn good at pretending.”

You have to pretend, or else the humans will kill you. Hunt you and kill you.

Emily glanced back at McNeal. “He’s used to lying, used to hiding, used to blending in with the crowd.”

“If this guy is so damn good at blending in,” McNeal muttered, “then how the hell are we going to find him?”

Good question, and one that Colin didn’t have a ready answer for. Sure, he was chasing down leads. He was planning to go see just what Jake Donnelley knew about the case, but flushing out a shifter? That wasn’t going to be easy. Not by a long shot.

“We have to go into his world,” Emily said softly. “Preston was involved with at least one demon that I know of. He could know other SBs. Maybe we can get one of them to talk to us.”

Well, hell, the doc had just voiced his own plan.

McNeal shot him a quick, searching glance.

Colin nodded. “That’s my general plan.” Emily had just beaten him to the punch.

The captain grunted. “You can’t take Brooks with you to question them. The guy doesn’t understand the circumstances of this crime.”

Yeah, he knew Brooks was out. The guy was a decent partner. Smart, tough, and dependable. Hell, the guy’s main flaw seemed to be that he was always chasing a new lady.

Brooks was a good-enough guy, but he had no clue about the existence of the Other in the world. No idea that the creatures from the horror flicks he loved so much were actually real.