The Shifter's Conspiracy (Paranormal BBW Werewolf Romance Novella) (6 page)

Just a dream…

Grabbing my purse, I ran down the stairs of my walkup apartment building. After that strange dream about Agent Chamberlain, I’d spent a bit too much time applying my makeup. I guess subconsciously he was still on my mind. Unfortunately, this meant I was about ten minutes late for work.

Out on the sidewalk, desiccated, fallen leaves crunched beneath my flats. I walked out to Bowery and hailed a cab, knowing it was the only chance I had of getting to the station on time. Finally, an empty cab pulled over to the curb and I jumped in, quickly giving the driver the address of the station.

I looked out the window at the city streaming by before my eyes. It was cold out, but the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky. Everything looked crisp and clear; my mind felt sharp and attentive. This was a good sign. I felt that there was good news on the horizon. Inside, I hoped that I’d walk into the station to the news that I’d been added to Agent Chamberlain’s team.

These pleasant thoughts evaporated from my mind almost instantaneously as the cab came to a standstill. We’d hit a patch of traffic around 28th Street. The engine idled, but we went nowhere. I leaned up in my seat, trying to get a look out the front window, trying to see over the cars in front of us to get an idea of how backed up things were.

The cab driver turned on his radio to a station giving an update on the morning traffic. Delays on the Long Island Expressway, the Holland Tunnel was an absolute nightmare, etc. All the typical New York messes that really only affected commuters coming
into
the City. Then I heard those dreadful words:

Accident in Midtown. Expect delays for the next hour as city officials redirect traffic
…

Shit. I guess I should have taken the subway after all. And there was no point finding a train now; either way I’d be getting there at about the same time. I pulled out my phone and checked my e-mail; nothing important, just typical departmental stuff. I went over the Post website to read a bit of news and kill the time as I waited for traffic to begin moving again.

That’s when I saw the headline:
Two More Women Disappear, Total Rises to 28
.

Inside the station, everyone was busy. A strange tension filled the hallways and offices. Words were spoken in hushed whispers. These recent developments were obviously the reason, but people were loath to discuss it too openly. The mere fact that we seemed powerless against this phenomenon put the whole department on edge, everyone from the lowest detective right up to Commissioner Davis.

I walked briskly to my desk, my heart dropping as I saw another pile of folders someone had dropped there. Some things never change, I guess. Maybe it was stupid to get my hopes up about being put on the FBI’s task force.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and checking my email one last time to see if I’d been given any sort of notification. Nothing. I guess I wasn’t joining the team after all. Reluctantly, I picked up the folders off of my desk and headed over to the scanner. Not too long afterward, Eric walked by with a cup of coffee, flashing a menacing grin as he slowed up to talk to me.

“Didn’t get put on the case, huh?” he asked slyly, taking a sip of his coffee as he waited for my answer.

I greeted him with silence, not even willing to look him in the eye. Part of it was pride, part of it was annoyance. I don’t know why he felt like he always needed to rub in my misfortunes.

“Well, I’m not surprised. It’s not like you were qualified,” he said, turning the knife a little more.

He knew how much I’d wanted this.

“Whatever, Eric. I’m not in the mood for it.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. We’re in the same boat. I got the e-mail this morning. Can’t say I’m too surprised though. Well, I’m surprised about me not getting on the team, not about you really.”

“I didn’t even get an e-mail,” I said softly.

It was a sign of how inconsequential I was, not even important enough to warrant a rejection letter. I looked up at Eric only to find Agent Chamberlain walking toward us, his face looking slightly impatient, but I had no idea why. We made eye contact and I looked back down at the scanner, slightly embarrassed and ashamed, especially after thinking back to the dream I’d had about him last night. Ha, what a fantasy that was.

“Tess, what the hell are you doing?” asked Agent Chamberlain.

I began to launch into my spiel about the 2014 Digitization Initiative when he cut me short.

“Put that down. I’ve got something to show you.”

“OK,” I said, genuinely surprised. What could he possibly want?

“Young man, please finish this up for her,” he said curtly, looking down at Eric and motioning to the stack of folders sitting next to the scanner.

“That’s not my job,” said Eric, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No? What is your job?”

“I… uh…”

“That’s what I thought. That Digitization Initiative sounds important, you’d better get on it.”

“That’s really
not
my job. I’m gonna go to my Lieutenant about this.”

“Oh? Because as I understand it, you’re the second youngest detective in the department after Tess. And Tess has more important things to do. So, this is your job now. But please, tell your Lieutenant to confirm with me. I’d be happy to talk to him.”

Eric looked dumfounded. I gave him a menacing smirk of my own as Agent Chamberlain tapped me on the arm and led me over toward the elevator. Truthfully, I wasn’t too sure what was going on, so maybe it was best not to get too cocky just yet. Still, I couldn’t help myself from turning back for another quick glance just before heading around the corner of the hallway, just in time to catch Eric fumbling with the buttons on the scanner.

“Tess, we’ve got very exciting news,” said Agent Chamberlain as he pressed the button for the eighteenth floor. The doors closed and we were moving upward.

“What is it?”

“Well, Dr. Geiss has been analyzing that data all night and we think we’ve got something pretty substantial. A hair salon over in the West Village.”

“What about it?”

“Every single woman on our list has checked in there. We’ve contacted the owner and confirmed appointments for all of them in the last two months.”

“Wow. I hadn’t thought of that. That’s clever.”

“Yes. Much less prone to error. A popular bar? Not surprising many of the girls would have been there. But the same hair salon? That’s a bit too coincidental.”

“Yeah. No kidding. I really hadn’t considered it.”

“Neither did we—but Dr. Geiss’s algorithm picked it out almost immediately. That’s the power of technology for you.”

“Right.”

“By the way, I don’t want you to discount your own insights completely. Those two girls who went missing last night, we checked in on them first thing this morning. Both have been to the hair salon. And both have the same body type as the other women who’ve disappeared. It all conforms to our working hypothesis.”

“Which is what?”

“That we’ve got some kind of serial activity, whether it be an individual or some sort of organization of individuals working in collaboration.”

“So what’s our next move?”

“First, we’re going to meet with Dr. Geiss. She has a few more gleanings from the data that she wants to brief us on. Then you and I are going down to that salon to talk with the owner and some of the stylists there. Very casual. We just want to see if they’re spooked by our presence, if they’re uncomfortable during questioning.”

“Agent Chamberlain,” I said hesitantly. “This might sound like a dumb question, but… am I officially on the team? No one ever told me for sure.”

He laughed lightly, turning to look me in the eye, showing me a slight glimmer I hadn’t seen before, breaking out of his usual placid professionalism and seriousness.

“Yes. You’re on the team. And call me Elias. We’re colleagues now.”

When we stepped out onto the streets, is was just after 11:30 AM. The sky was still pristine and the autumn sun was warm on my face as we walked over to the garage where Elias kept his car, unmarked, of course, so as not to draw attention.

But it drew attention in other ways. He drove a brand new Mustang, black, polished and spotless. If the looks were subtle and sophisticated, the engine was anything but; the car absolutely roared as Elias shifted into first and let out the clutch, skidding as he turned the corner out of the garage, flying across Midtown toward the West Side Highway.

I always loved driving down the West Side Highway; there was something free and open about it. Traffic was usually heavy, but you could drive faster here than anywhere else in New York City, nestled as it was on the westward edge of the island of Manhattan. The views were spectacular—especially today. The brilliant sun sparkled like diamonds on the water of the Hudson River, magnifying and multiplying its radiance as its light reflected off the small waves that gave the water its shimmering texture.

It was always windy over here next to the water, the land flattened and free from the domination of the many skyscrapers that cluttered the City, breaking down the winds of the Atlantic, forcing their power along side streets and alleyways. Out here, the sun and the wind were allowed to run free.

I gazed out the window across the river, staring at the towns of Weehawken and Hoboken. Right now, I felt fine, lazily lounging here, letting the senses be taken over by the resolute majesty of this part of the City. The sun streaming in through the window made the confines of the car warm and comfortable, providing a perfect complement to the scenery outside.

Elias, for his part, said nothing. I could almost sense that he, too, had a special place in his heart for this part of the City. There’s something to be said for silence in times like these, for simply enjoying the world around you without the need for comment or analysis or even introspection.

I kept stealing glances over in his direction. To my mind, the view to my left from the passenger seat was just as intriguing as the one beyond the clear, hard glass of the car window. When he smiled at me this morning… Oh, I could hardly put words to what I felt. To see him break his constantly serious demeanor gave me an insight into what he was. Something strange and beautiful lay within him.