Hotter After Midnight (Midnight 1)
Smith pulled off her gloves and held her hand out to Emily. I’m glad Gyth brought you on the case, Dr. Drake. I sure hope you can catch this bastard.”
Emily’s hand met hers. “Yeah, me, too.” She cleared her throat, glanced back at Colin. “Is there an office I can use here? I want to start going over the files.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a place for you.” He jerked his thumb toward the door. “Come on, I’ll show you. It’s barely bigger than a closet, but that’s the way all the offices are in this place.”
Nodding to Smith, Emily stepped back. “Good to meet you.”
“Same here.” The ME watched her as she crossed the room. Just as Emily stepped over the threshold, Smith called out, “Dr.
Drake, just one question.”
Emily glanced back. Beside her, Colin seemed to tense. “Yes?”
“You didn’t seem particularly surprised to hear about the animal hairs on the vic.” Her head cocked to the side. “Why is that?”
Suspicion was rich in her voice.
Emily hesitated.
“I’d already told her,” Colin said, shrugging casually. “I mentioned that bit about the dog or wolf hair on the ride over.” He flashed her a smile. “Sorry to steal your thunder, Smith.”
The ME’s shoulders relaxed. “Ah, it’s okay, Gyth.” She laughed softly, the sound a little rusty, and she admitted, “I was worried there for a minute, though.”
“Worried? Why?” He asked.
Smith didn’t look at Emily as she said, “I thought the doctor might know more about the perp than she was letting on.”
Yes, that was the truth. Emily tried a smile of her own, but her lips felt stiff, the movement too false. “I just have suspicions at this point, Smith. Nothing more.”
She glanced down at her watch. Five o’clock. There was time to start reviewing the case files, time to get more than just suspicions before she had to meet Jake.
Time to start tracking the shifter.
The woman had been huddled in the shoebox-sized office for the last three hours. He could see straight through the windowed walls, could see right inside to her hunched figure.
The doc was poring over the files. Crime scene photos were spread on the table before her. Typed notes lay to her side.
She was tapping a pen against her lips as she read, tapping, tapping…
“Well, well, is that her?”
The gravelly voice sounded at his side. Colin didn’t bother glancing to his left. He’d know that broken drawl anywhere.
His partner was back.
“Yeah, that’s her.” She pushed the notes aside, reached for a photo. Held it up, stared.
“Hmmm. Kinda pretty.” A chair shrieked a protest as Todd Brooks sat down.
Colin swiveled his chair very slowly to face him. Todd was the pretty-boy of the precinct. Brown hair perfectly cut. Too perfect teeth. And big, brown, You-Can-Trust-Me eyes that he’d used on more than his share of suspects.
The idiots couldn’t trust him, but they never realized that fact until it was too late.
Brooks reeled ’em in, convinced them he was their best friend. He got their confessions, then those eyes lost their warmth.
And the real man began to show.
Normally, Colin almost liked the guy. Todd didn’t ask stupid questions, he minded his own business, and he was a damn good shot.
The guy was also a notorious ladies’ man. He’d slept with nearly every female cop in the precinct.
But he’d sure as hell better not be planning on letting his gaze drift to the doc.
“She’s off-limits, Brooks.” Better to go ahead and make that clear.
His partner just shrugged. “So she’s working the case. Big deal. We can still—”
Colin leaned forward. “No, I don’t think you get it. She’s off-limits. ”
Those puppy-dog eyes blinked, and the light seemed to dawn. “Ah, got her marked already, huh, partner?”
No, he hadn’t marked her. Not yet. That would come later. Shifters always marked their mates.
Colin stiffened. Where the hell had that thought come from? The doc was not his mate.
Sure, he wanted to have sex with her, wanted it damn bad, but she was not his mate.
No f**king way.
“Pity.” Todd’s brown eyes drifted past Colin’s shoulders. “I sure would have liked to have gotten her on my couch.”
“Stop thinking with your dick, Brooks.” Captain McNeal stood behind him, his brows beetled low.
Brooks clenched his jaw. Then lifted one brow. “You knew he was there, didn’t ya?” His voice was whisper soft.
“Hell, yeah.” He didn’t bother lowering his voice. His gaze lifted to meet the captain’s. “Having a late night?”
“I was waiting to talk to Dr. Drake.” When Brooks turned to face him, McNeal shoved his index finger into his chest. “Don’t screw around with the doctor, Detective. We need her.”
“I’m not the one you’ve got to worry about,” he muttered.
“What’s that supposed to—”
“Captain McNeal? Gyth? May I speak with you both?” Emily asked, her seductive voice cutting straight through the rumble of noise in the precinct.
“Ah, sure, Em—Dr. Drake.” McNeal nodded to her but stabbed his finger against Brooks’s chest once more. “Don’t mess with her.”
The captain pushed past him and Brooks exhaled heavily. Then he took a step forward. “Hey, I should hear what she’s got to say, too.”
McNeal didn’t glance back at him. “Colin will brief you tomorrow. Go home, Brooks.”
Colin easily read the disbelief on his partner’s face. This was not the way things were usually handled at the PD. “What? But I’m assigned to this case, I need to know—”
McNeal stopped, turned slowly to face the angry detective. “You need to know what I tell you. She hasn’t worked up a full profile yet. When she does, you’ll know.”
He clenched his jaw, shot a fuming glance toward Colin. “You’ll fill me in?”
Colin nodded. He’d tell him as much as he could. He had a feeling the captain wouldn’t let him reveal all the facts to Brooks, but he actually saw that as a good thing. Brooks probably wouldn’t believe them when they started talking about the Other, and he sure as hell wouldn’t know how to track one of them.
“Fine.” He inclined his head toward the captain. “Then I’ll follow your orders and get the hell out of here.” His glance drifted to Emily. “But first I want to meet the doctor.”