Harley~
He rolled his beady little eyes at me! "Here, he said his cell was dead, and his van broke down. I let him use the phone, and he left."
My wolfie senses tingled. "I will need your phone records for the past week. Did you see the van he was driving or where he went after leaving your shop?"
He shook his head. "No, I never saw him again. The van had the Hempfort logo on the side. That big ass H, it sat out there," he gestures to the street, "for a couple of days before the city picked it up. It was practically a shell by the time they did."
I stick the photo in my back pocket and hand him my card. "Call me if you see anything that could have come off that van."
"I already have a vagrant named Peter Piper selling syringes. The good ones, no doubt they came off the van."
"Any gloves?" I knew it was a shot in the dark.
"Not that I've seen you come back in the morning, pervert Pete will be on the corner; he would know."
We work our way down the rest of the boardwalk with no further success. After the last bodega, we head back down the pier to meet with the captain and Detective Brock. I take out my phone to call Dr. Lyles to inquire if there were any syringes on the van when Belinda beats me to the punch: "What's up, Doc?"
My attempt at humor meant nothing to her. "We have a problem, Detective. Someone came into MY lab and took the glove. I got his ass on camera. I had never seen him before, yet he knew where to look.
A hard lump formed in my throat. "Your lab is ID and password protected." I didn't like this direction.
"The badge he used isn't in our system. It would seem we have a mole infestation. He can enter any restricted area if he can get in here."
My radio sounds on with Captain Mitch's voice. "Find anything, Detective?"
"Maybe, something, we are coming back to you." I know he is wondering what's up with my cryptic. He would soon find out.
The four of us go to the SCIF room, which is even more confined than the conference room. The air seems to leave my lungs as the Captain closes the door behind him. We stare at the surveillance footage for hours, watching it over and over. Since my head isn't spinning with his face, I know I have never seen him before—at least not wearing a face mask, surgical cap, and of course, gloves. He was smart; I'll give him that much.
Another thought that crosses my mind is that the glove bandit could be on Ian's payroll. It would make sense if my father were involved with the murders; he would want to destroy the evidence. Which also meant that Ian had his inside man in place. I had a feeling the glove wasn't the only thing he was looking to take. A chill runs down my spine enough to make me shiver.
"That's enough." Captain Mitch flips off the monitor. "We will get nothing out of that. Anyone in the building could be him. From this point on, only the four of us will discuss this case, and nothing leaves the room. I think we should all call it a night." He looked straight at me!
My first thought is, why does he know me so well? My second is that what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Brock follows the Captain out, leaving Sheila and me alone. I stand long enough for the door to close behind them before gathering the files, sitting in front of the monitor, preparing for a long night.
Sheila gets to her feet. "You want to go to McGilleys?"
Rae is upfront in an instant. 'Please, Harley, let's go.'
'No, Rae!'
'I promise to behave; it's been too long since we had some fun!'
"Sure, why not?" I gave in.
McGilleys' is busy tonight. The parking lot is also getting crowded with local solicitors, also known as lot lizards, who spot us before we get out of our cars. Shelia and I approach them and remind them that LA still has a law against prostitution before we make our way inside the house. The band is playing a cover of 'Brown Eyed Girl.' Personally, I think Morrison did it better. The bar breaks in a united "Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-tee-da" as we hop up on stools at the bar. Rae was right; I needed this.
"Evening, Detectives," Mac, the bartender, greets us. "The usual tonight, ladies?"
We both nod, and after a few moments, he returns with a tequila sunrise for me and a Jack and Coke for Sheila. "Here you go."
Sheila sips her drink. "So where is this new job?"
"Colorado, I hope the change of scenery will calm my inner beast." I chuckled.
With another three rounds down, when Ben walks in, Sheila quickly excuses herself. "Did you like the flowers?"
"They are beautiful, Ben, but you shouldn't have. I want no more gifts."
"Look at me, Harley!" I don't, I can't. "So this is it? The last eight months mean nothing to you?"
"No, not as much as they have to you." I breathed.
He pushes up from the bar and leans into me. "You're going to regret this, Harley. No one will ever love you as I do. " He promises before stalking off.
I downed the last of my sunrise, and Mac brought me another. I need to slow down. Fuck it. I thought as I took a big sip.
'Harley, there is another wolf here!'
'Rae, you're drunk.'
'Maybe a little, but I still know a wolf when I smell one. This one is all male.' She purrs at his scent.
'Stop that!' A moment later, I understand as the scent of suede and argon oil fills my senses, urging me to find its source.
I look around, scanning the crowd for a face I haven't seen. I find it. The stranger locks his eyes with mine. Rae flashed our eyes, and his momentarily went black in response. He makes his way to the bar.