Fair Game

there will be nothing our forensic units can find, and it won’t be anyone she knows. I have a—” Something caused her to look around just then. Probably the startled swearword one of the young cops said when she noticed Anna and Brother Wolf standing just outside of the stairwell.
    The FBI woman—
    Leslie Fisher,
admonished Anna, because she had a thing about proper word-names.
    To demonstrate that he knew perfectly well who he was talking about, Brother Wolf sent her a complicated impression of muted dominance, human, and a scent that was a combination of skin, hygiene products, and a family smell indicating that the FBI woman had a long-term relationship with a male and several not-adult children and two cats. He was showing off a little, because it took a lot of experience to separate a person’s scent into so much detail.
    Anna thunked him lightly on the head with her knuckles. “Behave,” she told him sternly. But he felt her laughter.
    “Here they are,” said the FBI woman,
Leslie Fisher
. Her eyes slid over him twice. She blinked, then focused on the leash.
    Anna smiled. “We use the collar and leash because it makes people feel safer,” she explained. “That way no one does anything stupid.”
    The fae looked at Brother Wolf and reached for a sword on his hip that wasn’t there—which seemed to discomfort him quite a bit. BrotherWolf relayed that to Anna so that she would know that the fae saw them as a possible threat.
    “Anna Smith and Charles Smith, I’d like to introduce you to Alistair Beauclaire, a partner at the legal firm of Beauclaire, Hutten, and Solis. He was to meet his daughter, Lizzie Beauclaire, age twenty-two, here at eleven p.m. for a late celebration. But sometime between when he talked to her at six p.m. and when he came at ten minutes before eleven, she went missing.”
    Though her tone was mild, her body language, the way her own hand moved so she could reach a weapon, and the spike in her pulse told Brother Wolf that the FBI woman had seen what he saw. She talked more than she’d had to in order to give everyone time to calm down. All of which made her altogether more of a person to him, because she was not anyone’s victim and she was smart, Leslie Fisher of the FBI.
    “Sir,” said Anna, “we’re here to help. In addition to his other victims, this killer has taken out three werewolves in Boston this summer.”
    The slender man let his eyes drift from Anna to Brother Wolf, and Brother Wolf resisted displaying his fangs because he’d promised Charles that he would take care of Anna. Provoking a fight with a fae might be entertaining, but it was
not
protecting Anna.
    “You’re both werewolves,” said the fae.
    Anna nodded. “Does she have a lot of people over?”
    He shook his head. “She spends six to eight hours a day taking classes and rehearsing. Usually she’ll meet her friends at a club or restaurant if they want to go out. Most of her friends are dancers, too, which means poor. I think it embarrasses her to live this upscale. Her mother lives in Florida with her stepfather, as do Lizzie’s two younger half siblings.”
    “Good. That will help a lot. So who has been in the apartment tonight?”
    Leslie raised her hand. “Me.” Pointed to the fae. “He has.” She looked around. “Hey, Moon. Mooney, are you still around?”
    One of the police officers farther down the corridor stepped out from behind several others and raised his hand. “Right here,” he said.
    “If that’s true, that’ll really help when we go in to check who’s been in there. But Charles needs to scent you all so he can discount your presence. He won’t hurt you; just stand still.”
    Anna dropped the leash. Brother Wolf approached the policeman with his ears up and his tail wagging gently, and the man still stiffened and lost color. That was fine. Enjoyable, even. Not as much fun as if he’d run away, but Brother Wolf took his pleasure where he found it. Still, a quick sniff from several feet out was enough.
    When he had the policeman’s scent, he stopped by the fae—who kept a wary eye on him, but otherwise did not object. Interestingly, Leslie Fisher didn’t flinch, either; only her rising pulse gave her fear away. He liked her better all the time.
    He looked at his mate.
    “Anyone else that we know has been in there tonight?” Anna asked.
    “No,” said Leslie. “As soon as I got here I sealed the room.”
    “If you’ll let us in?” Anna nodded at the