~Kasumi's P.O.V.~
'What an excellent day—some fun beat-up-the-bad-guy exercise, a new job, a good book.' With a wiggle of content, Kas settled herself in the comfortable swing on her front porch and picked up her paperback. A Clancy. Amazing how much the author knew, considering he'd never done covert ops. Maybe she should take notes.
She put her good leg up on the railing with a grunt of pain and sat back carefully. Her ribs were fine until she moved, then it felt as if someone was shoving a buck knife into her side.
Oh, well. She had coffee steaming on the adjacent small table, a book, a comfy swing, and the sun was warm on her legs. The scent of damp grass mingled with a cool piney breeze off the looming mountain, and she didn't start work until tomorrow. Aside from the fact she had a battered body, had lied to her boss, still had to tell some old guy his grandkid was dead, and needed to investigate weird beastie things that looked the same as normal people, life was perfect.
Taking a sip of coffee, she swirled it in her mouth and hummed in pleasure. Coffee and chocolate—the inventor of mocha should be sainted.
As she tipped the cup up, movement in the big oak tree caught her attention, and she tensed, then relaxed. 'Not a sniper—branches weren't thick enough—but what was it? No flutter of wings, no bushy tail. Maybe a cat?'
Keeping a wary eye on the tree, she set the swing to gently rocking and dropped the book into her lap. Despite all her preparation, she couldn't concentrate on reading. Too much hung over her head.
Could Landon 's remains have been returned to his family? The local police and ambulance crews had been on-site, so she doubted Dwayne could spirit Landon's body away. The coffee turned bitter on her tongue as guilt slashed through her. 'You don't abandon your teammates, dammit.'
But she wasn't a Marine now. In black ops, there were no teammates.
Concentrate on finding Landon's grandfather. Surely the people here would talk about the kid, whether they thought he was missing or knew he was dead. So just listening might work, even if it took longer. And what better place for gossip than a bar? She grinned. That had been righteous good luck, being in the right spot to play hero and score a job. It had been good luck for the little girl as well. Kas's gut tightened at how the trucker had swung at Katie. I should have drop-kicked his balls over the nearest truck. Then again, his face had met the pavement hard enough to turn it into hamburger. That would have to do.
Forcing the tension out of her muscles, she tilted her head back. The puffy white clouds above were piling up against the mountains and growing darker. 'Probably would storm tonight. Did werecats run around in the rain?'
She sure didn't know. 'How the hell am I going to do this?' Okay, she could track mountain lions in the woods, but when she found one, how could she tell if it was a shifter or a real cat? She touched her still-tender shoulder and grimaced. Considering she'd discovered, up close and personal, just how friendly mountain lions were when pissed off, that didn't sound like the plan of the week.
Hunting cougars in the woods is out.
How about searching for shifters in their human form? Not much easier. Like she could run around with a cattle prod and zap townsfolk until one turned all furry? She snorted. Aside from upsetting the local populace, that overly clever sheriff might not warm to the idea. He was already too focused on her and her business.
She remembered too well how he'd studied her with those dark green eyes… Hell, he'd watched her like a kitten watched an ant, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
She pulled in a long breath at that thought—the sheriff pouncing on her, pouncing and then bouncing, that firm mouth on hers, that long muscular body. Just the way he moved—like a warrior—set her insides quivering. Guys like him were hell in a fight and totally the best in bed.
After a sigh, she sucked down some coffee. 'Been a long dry spell, eh, Kas? I haven't had any fun since…when had it been? Ah, the hunky intern in Walter Reed Hospital. Too young to maintain a decent conversation, but ohh-rah, he was built, and that was all I ever need.'
Funny how that worked. A close call left her with this…need…to prove she was alive. And nothing demonstrated that faster than sex.
But not this time. A quick fuck with the sheriff might win some information but would be as dangerous as poking at a rattlesnake. She had a feeling his curiosity wouldn't diminish with a bout in bed. Probably the reverse.
Ah, well. With a disappointed sigh, she picked up her coffee. 'Damn but being a good Marine sucks sometimes. Okay, cougar baiting, whether human or kitty, is out.'
She'd just have to treat this as a straight information-gathering mission. Let the gossip, the facts, everything flow in without trying to divert it in any one direction, and then filter out the good stuff and see where it led. Landon had said there were more shifters here. If so, eventually she'd get an idea how to track them down.
'So. I have a plan.'
And hey, she had an actual job too. She glanced over at the mountain and tried to locate where the tavern perched just above the town. It was right about—
Something in the oak tree rustled the leaves again. The nearest branches bent down, almost touching the porch, and as she watched, a tiny hand the size of a dime snatched an acorn and disappeared.