That I wouldn't know, having avoided the whole "death while on duty" line of thinking. Which I guess was stupid, given the fact that a guardian's lifestyle wasn't exactly compatible with a long life - unless you were a vamp and all but indestructible. But there again, if something happened to me, I don't think Rhoan would be worried about money. Nor me, if the situation was reversed.
The elevator doors finally swished open and Kade ushered me out. The foyer was empty, but I could hear voices coming from the right, and one of them was familiar. I headed that way.
Cole looked around as we entered the office. He was a tall, gray-haired wolf-shifter with a craggy face and a sharp attitude - at least when it came to dealing with me. Though I have to admit, I probably deserved it. I enjoyed teasing him a whole lot more than was warranted. Of course, it didn't help that he kept saying he wasn't interested when I knew for a fact he was. Even though wolf-shifters tended to think of themselves as better than us werewolves, not even they could hide the smell of arousal.>"A dead businessman in Collins Street. The Paris end."
I raised my eyebrows. The so-called Paris end of Collins Street was filled with beautiful old buildings and mega-rich companies and businessmen. They had to be, just to be able to afford the rent there. It certainly wasn't the sort of place you'd expect us to be called into. Though I suppose when death came calling, it really had no respect for wealth or location.
"So are we talking a street death, or inside a building?"
"Inside. He was found in his office by his secretary. No signs of a break-in, and no obvious signs of foul play."
I frowned. "So why were we called? It sounds more like one for the regular cops than us."
"It's ours because the victim was Gerard James."
Who was obviously someone I should know, but didn't. "So?"
"So Gerard James was the head of the Nonhuman Rights League - the party intending to run several nonhuman candidates in the next state and federal elections."
"And his death is a political hot potato, so the cops have hand-balled it to us?"
"Precisely."
Meaning the pressure would be coming down from on high to solve this case quickly. Great. "I gather he's not human himself, then?"
"Nope. He is - was - a hawk-shifter."
"Does he have family in Melbourne?"
"Elderly parents living in Coburg. Gerard's a self-made man, and there were rumors of a contract being taken out on him several months ago."
"Well, there are probably plenty of humans out there who'd go to great lengths to stop nonhumans getting into government."
"The rumor was investigated and appeared unfounded."
So why was he now dead in his office? "Have you called in a cleanup crew?"
"Cole and his team are there already. Kade will meet you out the front of the Martin and Pleasance building in half an hour."
I glanced at my watch. It was nearing three-thirty, which meant the daily traffic snarl had already begun. "It'll take me longer than that to get there."
"Not if you speed."
Amusement ran through me. I had a somewhat checkered driving history - the last car I'd actually owned I'd driven into a tree, and to this day I have no recollection of the event. Though given I ended up in a madman's breeding center immediately after it, I very much suspected that particular accident wasn't my fault. But I'd had several mishaps in Directorate cars since that were, hence my surprise at Jack's order. Hell, it was only last week he was lecturing me about it, saying that any more accidents might send his budget into the red.
"If you're ordering me to travel fast in a Directorate vehicle, this must be urgent."
"Just don't wreck the car any more than you already have." He hesitated, then added, "Or yourself."
"Gee, thanks for caring, boss."
"Riley, just shut up and get there," he said, and hung up.
I shut up and got.
It took me a good forty minutes to get into the city, then another ten to battle my way through all the traffic to the Paris end of Collins Street. I might have had permission to go super fast, but this particular Directorate car didn't come equipped with lights or sirens. Which was a damn shame - I would have loved roaring through the city streets scattering pedestrians and cars alike. Although with my driving record, that probably wouldn't have been such a good idea.
Kade was already waiting in front of the building, his jean-clad butt resting against the trunk of the car, his muscular arms crossed, and his long legs stretched out before him.