Page 5 of Unhallowed Murder (A Paranormal Halloween #2)

“Nothing on the ex-boyfriend?”

“He’s living in Virginia. Do you want to see if I can place him in town recently?”

“No. Tell me about the cousin.”

“A long list of minor and then minor-ish offenses up until six years ago, when he was convicted of possession with intent. Spent a few years inside, moved to Chattanooga when he got out, and went off parole three months ago. Quit his mandatory day job the next day. Gang task force has some notes on him — he’s CHM. ”

CHM was Clifton Hills Mafia, one of the local Latino gangs. She sighed. “Address?”

He hesitated a few extra seconds before giving it to her, and she thanked her lucky stars she had such a great team.

She’d been in situations where she hadn’t been taken seriously as a woman cop, or had been hated for having a higher rank than the men under her, but her team respected her while trying to make sure she stayed safe — they never crossed the line of being insubordinate while trying to protect her, but they stepped right up to it on occasion.

It was both frustrating and heartwarming, because they wouldn’t try to stop her if they didn’t care, but she could take care of herself.

While she typed the address into Google maps, she told him, “I only plan to drive by and scout the area. I won’t take action without backup, Corey.”

Corey was the only member of their team who wasn’t a sworn officer, but he was worth ten times his weight in gold.

“He has ties to the local cartel connection, which is probably why Agent Graham was brought in on the original case.”

“What do you know about this agent?”

“Specializes in gang activity. Our notes say he’s in tight with the RTMC. He’s the agent who was instrumental in bringing down Thomas Pickering. ”

Pickering had been a corrupt District Attorney, and the Chattanooga PD was still trying to recover from the cluster-fuck.

Graham had stuck up for the MC because it was important they be brought down the right way, and crooked cops pissed him off.

She instantly felt better about her little deal with the agent. “Thanks.”

Her victim had been late twenties and Caucasian, but the cousin was listed as Hispanic, and he lived in the Clifton Hills area — ground zero for the new brown gangs springing up and battling for power.

She detested the black/white/brown terms, but it was hard to insist on different terminology when the gangs in questions used those terms to describe themselves.

Josef drove them to the cousin’s house and made a slow circuit without needing to be told. Of course, he could hear her thoughts, so she shouldn’t be too impressed.

Kevin Ramirez lived in a rundown duplex, the yard desperately in need of a lawnmower. “There’s a nightclub about a half mile away. Any chance you can read the brains in this house from there?”

“No one’s home. The occupant of the other half of the duplex is in the same gang, but doesn’t appear to know anything about your victim.”

“Well, damn. Thanks for trying.”

“Certainly. Can I ask you to text me from your phone, so I’ll have your number, please?”

“I’m not…” She sighed. “I don’t think I can give what you asked for, earlier. The idea you know everything in my head is too creepy.”

He started to protest, and she added, “I know you said you’re only hearing my thoughts and not diving into my memories, but it’s… I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“I will answer the questions your father had about Sulla.”

“How did you—” She cut herself off mid-sentence. He knew about her father’s questions because he’d been in her head. What else had he seen about her father? She quickly cut that line of thinking off and focused on the list of things she needed to do. “You aren’t helping your case.”

“I didn’t dig for anything. I only saw what you recalled to memory.

I will always be honest, unless Abbott or the Concilio orders me not to be, and in that case, I’m not opposed to agreeing to the same deal you requested of the FBI agent — a safeword, so you’ll know I’ve been given orders I don’t agree with but must obey. ”

“And if we actually need to speak of pineapples?” It wasn’t likely to come up in the course of an investigation, but who knew what conversations she might have with an ancient vampire.

He chuckled. “We’ll need a different word. Onomatopoeia, perhaps?”

A smile blossomed on her face before she realized she was going to. “Yeah, that works.”

In the end, she texted him, but only because he offered to help her when she interrogated suspects.

* * * *

Josef could tell the little tiger shifter female was directing her thoughts away from several areas of thought.

He picked up whispers of attraction, glimpses of her controlling her reactions by focusing on her case instead of what she really wanted to think about.

She’d liked him without a shirt, and had been disappointed when he’d put one on, but then had convinced herself it was better that way, so she wouldn’t have to police herself to keep from staring at his chest, and at the area near the top of his pants.

He wondered if she’d even realized the thoughts were there, at first. Eventually, she’d aimed her thoughts firmly at the case, and redirected them if they came off it for any reason.

The little tiger had incredible discipline.

He knew centuries-old vampires who couldn’t direct their thoughts so well.

He didn’t want to lose contact, so he stayed in her head once he dropped her off at her friend’s house, where her car was parked. He tailed her from three quarters of a mile away — close enough to monitor her thoughts, but not close enough she’d see him following her.

And he couldn’t resist the smug smile on his face when she finally thought she could think freely.

She wondered what his bite would be like, and her entire body went fevered just thinking of it.

Martin had ordered her to feed another vampire once, and she’d intended to hate it, but she’d liked it so much, it’d scared her.

Her thoughts were a jumble — this was the woman considering and feeling , and no longer the purely logical detective.

The bottom line? She was attracted to him and had managed to keep those thoughts from her mind while he was with her. She didn’t call to mind lessons of someone teaching her the process of redirecting her thoughts — had she figured it out on her own?

He hadn’t given her any suggestions because his little tiger shifter was so strong willed, he had a feeling she’d recognize the suggestion. This was exceedingly rare for humans, but since shapeshifters knew to be on the lookout for it, about fifteen to twenty percent sometimes realized.

And he’d instinctively known not to try it with Lieutenant Veronica Woods.

So much power and control in such a beautiful package.

He could’ve gone farther into her mind while she slept, and he was tempted.

Josef wanted to know about her childhood, about her first sexual experience, about her siblings, and more about those friends she’d arrived with.

They’d talked her into wearing a skin-tight costume, and he had a feeling she’d only do that for really good friends.

But he didn’t explore her memories because he wanted to learn about her a little at a time. He wanted her to share herself, and that wouldn’t happen if he spent the night going through her head while she slept.