Chapter~3~Dedicated detective.

Harley~

Whoever said one can't survive on black coffee and the occasional cracking of the back was lying. I have always been a workaholic, it's true, and I work best when I am focused on a task. However, my stress and aggravation levels lately have been way too high, and I can do without them.

When I didn't even see, hear, or smell creepy Carl, the janitor, until he was breathing down my neck, I knew exhaustion and sleep deprivation had me slipping. Carl makes my skin crawl, so of course, we would wind up alone in the break room.

"Burning the midnight oil again, sweetheart?" He asked.

His pretentiousness, as he propped himself against the water cooler, had my eyes rolling of their own accord. Carl, two decades my senior, possesses a physique of equal height and breadth; a visage best suited for radio. However, he harbors an over-inflated sense of the ladies' man he perceives himself to be.

"Yeah, you know me, same old Carl," I said.

He raised his bushy, unkempt eyebrows at me suggestively. "When will you give it up and let me take you?"

When hell freezes over and all the pigs fly to the moon! "My dating situation prevents that currently, plus I'm busy, Carl, and I need to get back at it."

"Well, excuse me, Detective, I was just trying to show you a good time."

Carl pushed off the cooler, raised his hands, and grunted at me before stalking out as though he had anything worth witnessing! With Carl blown off and my umpteenth cup of coffee for the evening poured, I return to my desk, sighing as I sink back into the chair.

The coffee break hasn't helped; my head feels like it's full of cobwebs, and my back is stiff as a board. Still, I try to focus on the obsession that rules my life. My aching temples are proof that my eyes are contemplating going on strike. 'Focus, Harley!' I tell myself.

A glance at my watch makes me groan as I see I have been here for twelve hours! These late nights have been the status quo for weeks, ever since the media dubbed 'Anacapa Island stalker' made the scene. This case is every homicide detective's worst nightmare, because I know there has to be a connection, and I'm missing it.

There's not one bit of a clear link between the victims, and no motive that I have been able to pin down. It's as if the men didn't exist until they wound up dead in my backyard. Given the evidence, I must consider that my sleepy little shore town has somehow wound up in the middle of a mob war. At least we have become a dumping ground for the casualties.

The murders have all occurred around the same time of night, near the docks, using the same 9mm semi-automatic pistol. The victims are all men between the ages of 25 and 40. All but two are 'entrepreneurs' who have questionable ties to organized crime, all shot execution style, hands bound behind their backs, one bullet to the back of the head. Dead! That's where the trail goes ice cold.

'Harleeeeya!' Raelynn, my wolf, said.

With a deep sigh, I answered. 'Yes, Rae.'

'Can we please go now?! I need a run.' She dragged out the word need.

'Just a little longer, Rae.'

She growls low at me and recedes into my mind, sulking. Though I hate to disappoint my wolf, I have responsibilities here. 'Rae, you will be fine.'

Goddess bless her, my wolf puts up with so much, and she doesn't let me forget it. From the beginning, Rae did not desire life within the human world, and lately she's been tighter-wound than usual. Admittedly, I have also been feeling that it might be time for us to move on. Call it intuition if you will, but it has kept us one step ahead so far.

Before my life turned into a never-ending, unpleasant episode of Law & Order, I had typed, signed, and sealed my resignation to hand over to Captain Howard. Only I made every absconder's worst mistake; I have gotten attached. The year and a half I have spent here in LA is the longest time I have stayed in one place since leaving my father's pack.

"Harley, are you still here? I could've sworn I saw you leave." Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Captain Mitch Howard's deep voice rumbled through the air.

"Yeah, Captain, present and accounted for," I said, glancing at him, then refocusing on the file.

"Go home, Harley, get some rest, and you should get some food too; I hear you growling."

It isn't my stomach he hears. "Captain, I need a little more time; there has to be something here!"

"That's an order! You will find no one mentally and physically exhausted."

He just trump-carded my ass, and I know when I'm beaten; standing at my desk, I attempt to stuff the files into my backpack when my captain stops me.

"Oh no, just leave those there; it's for your own good, Harley."

"Captain, I am fine."

"Goodbye, Harley. If anything needs your immediate attention, I will call you. Otherwise, I will see you in twelve hours."

He raised his eyebrows at me, so I knew he meant business. My wolf is as happy as can be. However, Rae shouldn't get too carried away. Thanks to my hyperthermias memory, I don't need the files, so I smile and nod at my captain.

As I step outside, the heat slaps me across the face. Even at 10 pm, the heavy humidity has me hotter than Satan's house cat. LA summers are not for the faint of heart! I hurry across the parking lot and into my car. With a sigh escaping me, I start the engine.

'At least we have time for that run now, Harley.'

'It's still too early, Rae. The campers haven't gone to bed yet, and you remember what happened last time?'

The memory of my big bad wolf running like a scolded pup from an adolescent who was only trying to relieve himself gives me a chuckle.