Pack Justice (Nature of the Beast Book 1) (2 page)

“More like eight weeks and national television coverage,” O’Mallory corrected.

I grimaced at the thought of being on the news again. “The reporters are going to want interviews.”

Snorting, O’Mallory picked up a file and tossed it across his desk. It landed in front of Andrea. “Reporters always want to ask questions. Reporters are incapable of sitting quietly when the sentencing of a particularly juicy case is handed down. You might be interested in this, Miss Morgan. It arrived anonymously this morning.”

No matter what expression she had, Andrea Morgan was a beautiful woman, but when she frowned or scowled, she reminded me of a sword, freshly sharpened and ready for battle. She flipped open the file and sucked in a breath. “What the hell!”

My eyes widened, and when I straightened, my cheetah hopped off my lap and stood beside Andrea, placed his paws on the arm of her chair, and peered at the contents of the file. “What’s going on?”

Andrea thrust the folder at me.

While I had suspected Douglass Roberts of being guilty of more than three rapes, I hated when the truly sick and twisted criminals provided mocking evidence of their crimes. I didn’t recognize the woman, but I had no doubt she was dead, and the picture Roberts had taken with her showed him smiling for the camera, probably a cell phone, judging from the quality of the photograph.

“Sick,” I snarled, tossing the file on O’Mallory’s desk. “You’re showing this to us for a reason. Why?”

“Roberts has an accomplice. The file was addressed to me—and to you, Sean.”

I lifted my hand, slid my index finger and thumb under my glasses, and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Joy.”

“While you were not mentioned, Andrea, I think you should also be cautious, especially considering the nature of the case.”

“I’m always careful,” Andrea replied. The way she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye with a hint of a frown betrayed her worry. “Prosecutors are the ones usually targeted.”

“No one can claim you didn’t provide Mr. Roberts with a good defense,” O’Mallory stated.

“I agree, Andrea,” I said, using her first name to appease my fellow attorney. “You did a hell of a good job. It was a challenge, which says a lot about your skill.”

Andrea sucked in a breath, gawking at me before she recovered, shaking her head. “I was just doing my job.”

My cheetah flattened his ears at the disgust in Andrea’s tone.

O’Mallory glanced at me before shaking his head. “I know too many lawyers who would have thrown the case. Still. This is a concern.” Picking up the file, the judge slapped it against his desk. “You both need to be careful.”

Being careful was a way of life for me; I enjoyed bringing cop killers to justice, which had earned me a reputation among the police
and
among the criminals I helped lock behind bars. “Are the police aware of the situation?”

“Of course. The culprit’s knowledgeable, which worries me. He even wrote on the file that we wouldn’t find anything. Newspaper clippings,” O’Mallory grumbled, shaking his head. “The letter is with the police, but you’ll see it soon enough. I thought showing you a photocopy of the image would be sufficient to warn you. The originals were checked for prints during the sentencing. Clean, unfortunately.”

“I’m supposed to leave town for the weekend,” I said, hoping O’Mallory would suggest against taking a trip.

“A moving target is harder to hit. Leave your itinerary with the police so we can check on you, just in case.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I replied, swallowing back my sigh.

My cheetah indulged for both of us, loud, long, and gusty.

“There are a few police officers who want to see you on your way out,” O’Mallory said, rising from his chair to shake our hands. “Good job, both of you. Please be careful.”

Andrews’s former partner, Marcello, and five other cops from their division were waiting for me and Andrea outside the courthouse. Little deterred reporters, but the six cops swarming around us did a pretty good job. I recognized Marcello’s brother, but the other four men were new faces.

The youngest of the lot looked like a freshly minted officer but wore sergeant's stripes, and he scowled at Andrea.

My cheetah bared his fangs and hissed at him, and I was tempted to do the same. Instead, I turned my attention to Marcello.

“I wish I had six uniformed, armed cops keeping the vermin at bay every day,” I muttered, shaking my friend’s hand. As always, the Italian-Mexican had a strong grip, crunching my fingers together despite my best efforts to hold my own. When he let me go, I shook out my hand, muttering a few choice curses at my inability to compete with his physical strength. “Has Dan been a pain in your ass yet?”

“Every day,” Dan’s brother groused.

While Andrews wouldn’t be coming back, Dan had joined the force. I still hadn’t decided if the division’s decision to partner the brothers had been a stroke of brilliance or insanity.

My cheetah huffed and sat beside me, his ears cocked back, ignoring the young sergeant and focusing all of his attention on Andrea.

I caught him sneaking peeks at the sergeant when he thought I wasn’t looking, which intrigued me. The young officer’s tan pegged him as a beach goer, possibly a surfer.

I didn’t like the way he kept watching Andrea, and once again, I found myself wishing I could echo my cheetah’s vocal dislike of the man.

Maybe one day I’d learn how to hold actual conversations with the cat—and learn his name. Did cheetah spirits even
have
names? I made a point of thanking him each day for sticking around, which the cheetah answered with a purr.

All Andrea had to do to make my cheetah purr was look at me. In a way, it made me jealous. I had to work for the cat’s approval.

She just had to smile.

I wanted to purr, too, when she smiled. Unfortunately, she had smiled at me only once since I’d met the woman almost a decade ago, so I had to wait for someone else to make her happy to enjoy how radiant she became.

My first real mistake as an adult was marrying Idette Hulda Richter instead of waiting to find a woman like Andrea Morgan. I had lived with my regret for years and would continue to do so unless I found the courage to serve the papers burning a hole in my briefcase.

I had given Idette my vow and the best years of my life. I had even enjoyed my life with her, right up until she had changed. I couldn’t remember if it had been six, seven, or even eight years ago, but I’d never forget the first time her normally mild temper frayed and snapped, shocking both of us with her violence.

It hadn’t taken me long to figure out she wasn’t going to change back into the woman I had fallen in love with.

“Earth to Sean,” Marcello said, prodding my shoulder where Idette had latched onto me with her teeth. The stab of pain jolted me from my thoughts, but I caught myself before I could hiss or curse. Everyone, Andrea included, was staring at me.

“Sorry, it’s been a long week,” I muttered, rolling my shoulders. At thirty-seven, I wasn’t exactly old, but my joints did a good job of creaking and popping, earning me a few winces from the cops.

Idette was responsible for my premature aches and pains, too, but I knew better than to utter a single word about it.

Andrea frowned but kept quiet, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“A long week for all of us. Admirable defense, Miss Morgan,” Marcello said, his tone sharpening.

My cheetah growled, and I tensed, wondering if my spirit beast had figured out how to interact with anyone other than me—at least without me assuming his shape and granting him access to the real world. I wasn’t fond of the cop’s tone, either, but I couldn’t blame him.

Andrea hadn’t thrown the case, and her integrity likely hadn’t earned her any friends, with me being the lone exception. It took guts to go against the popular opinion, and Andrea didn’t believe in handouts and neither did I.

Instead of acknowledging Marcello, she turned to me, and as she had in the courthouse, she thrust out her hand. “You’re a hard man to face in court, Mr. Scott.”

“If I were as good of a prosecutor as you are a defender, Andrea, maybe I could con the boss into giving me a raise.” I fought my urge to grin at the woman.

She snorted, arching a brow at me. “If you want a raise, Sean, that can be arranged. My boss has been itching to hire you for years.” Unlike most women I knew, Andrea didn’t carry a purse; she pulled out a slender wallet from her blazer’s pocket. She took out a card and held it between two fingers. “The number’s on the front, and the opening offer is on the back.”

I blinked, taking the card. Without looking at it, I dug out my wallet and slipped it inside. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Over the years, I’d been tempted to leave my job as a district attorney for a higher paying position at a private law firm. However, the types of cases I enjoyed working fell under the umbrella of the district attorney, and I didn’t want to give that up, not quite yet.

I also didn’t want to agitate Idette, who viewed my current job as the pinnacle of my goals and dreams. Prosecuting as a district attorney in high-profile cases had been my main goal during law school, but things had changed.

Idette, unfortunately, didn’t handle change very well.

When I got home, I’d have to hide Andrea’s card and make certain her name wasn’t on it—and that her boss wasn’t a woman. It’d join the pile of things I was keeping as closely guarded secrets from my wife.

It was one thing to tolerate my wife’s tendency to fly off the handle against
me
, but the thought of her rage turning on Andrea left me queasy. My cheetah snarled and snapped his teeth at me. When he was certain he had my attention, he hissed and spat curses.

Sometimes, I was really grateful I couldn’t understand what the spirit beast was saying.

“You’re really out of it today, Sean,” Marcello said, giving my arm a tug. “You’re off in la-la land again. We’re heading back to the station for a drink or two. Why don’t you come with us? If you give me your keys, I’ll get Anthony to drive your car to the station. At the rate you’re zoning out, you won’t make it anywhere without crashing into something. Are you getting enough sleep? You can ride with us.” After a pause, the cop turned to Andrea. “You, too. We’ll get yours to the station. Hell, of all of us, I bet you’re the one who needs a drink the most.”

“I won’t say no to a shot or two, especially if it comes with a chemical scrub and a change of clothes,” the lawyer grumbled, and she shivered, shook her head, and pulled out her car keys, tossing them to Marcello. “Thanks. I’m parked on the third level near the elevators. It’s the green Camry.”

I sighed, seeing the offer for what it was. Marcello and Dan had probably been tasked with making sure we got to the station without incident. Drinks would follow the interrogation awaiting both of us. I handed over the keys to my car, telling Marcello where I had parked. After a whispered word to one of the other cops, Marcello handed over both sets of keys.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you two out of here before the vultures figure out you’ve left the courthouse,” Marcello said, giving me a shove in the direction of his cruiser.

My cheetah decided my lap was the only suitable place for him to sit. Maybe my spirit beast couldn’t interact with the rest of the real world, but he took fiendish delight in torturing me with his tongue.

In the relative privacy of my car, I would’ve swatted him away, but in the back of a police cruiser with Andrea beside me, I was forced to endure in silence, hoping my spirit beast didn’t leave obvious evidence of his desire to groom the skin off my face.

Chapter Two

My cheetah stuck close to Andrea, and I followed in their wake, the strap of my briefcase over one shoulder and my hands shoved into my slacks pockets. Marcello fell into step with me and nudged my ribs with his elbow.

“You better call that pit viper before she calls you and starts bitching again,” the cop warned.

While he was right, I grimaced at the thought of talking to my wife—and explaining why I wasn’t returning home right away. Threats weren’t new for me, but Idette didn’t handle them well.

She didn’t handle anything very well.