Medium Rare by Lia Cooper

Author:Lia Cooper [Cooper, Lia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-05-17T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

June 2012 - King’s Inn Belltown - Vector

It took several days for Deputy Forrest to get back to him with the information he’d requested and in the meantime, Vector was forced to keep himself occupied in the motel room he shared with Henderson. The other agent spent the bulk of his time at the FBI’s Seattle Field Office, but seeing as there was nothing more for Vector to smell, he didn’t feel the need to bring the werewolf into the office with him.

The implication was that Vector was supposed to remain in the motel during the day, but what Henderson didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. There was no way Vector could resist the allure of his city calling for him through the open window.

He went out early in the morning and bought a doughnut from the local chain on the corner and then spent the bulk of his time wandering the streets. He had covered most of Belltown by the time Deputy Forrest faxed him the information he wanted.

A sergeant from the West SPD called Henderson to let him know and the FBI agent drove Vector into the station the next day.

“You sure you want to work from here?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” Vector said.

“This isn’t part of your job, strictly speaking.”

“I’m invested in the outcome.”

“Are you?” The other agent pulled up outside the station and tapped his thick fingers against the steering wheel. Vector could sense that the man had more to say so he waited, clicking off his seatbelt but remaining in the car.

“I’m picking up the boys from Colorado today at the airport. We’ve got some stuff to go over at the field office.” Henderson gave him a look from the corner of his eye. “You like being back here, don’t you?”

Vector swallowed and considered his next words carefully. “It’s familiar hunting ground.”

His words had their intended effect, Henderson’s expression twisted into one of mild distaste and he made an impatient noise. “Just text me when you’re done.”

The wheels of the black SUV left the distinct taste and smell of burning rubber as the man peeled away from the curb.

Inside the station, Vector kept his head down and made a beeline for the bullpen where he found a secretary to show him to the fax machine. Incoming faxes were filed into manilla envelopes labeled with the name of their sender and the intended recipient. The file with Vector’s name on it spread to three files full of cheap copy paper covered in the scratchy black printing customary of 90s fax machines. He was a little taken aback at how much information Forrest had sent him. A part of him had been expecting the other man to blow off his request and send a single sheet with a handful of names—if he were lucky.

Vector took the faxes and his ID to the desk sergeant and asked if there was an empty computer he could borrow. The man gave his FBI badge a thorough once over, all but holding

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