I picked up the other sandwich and peeled back the edge of the bread.
Tuna.
Yuck.
Luckily, I had a stash of nutrition bars in my bottom drawer.
I put the other sandwich back on the tray before pulling the small plate of cut fruit toward me. That, I could eat. I popped a grape into my mouth and went back to concentrating on the file in front me.
A missing teenager. A panther shifter. Her parents were frantic. They swore up and down that she hadn’t run away or gone off to party with her friends. Her friends backed their story up. By all reports, she was a good kid. Good grades. No troubles in school.
I picked up the phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. “Samson, I have a job for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s not one of your usual assignments.”
The man grunted.
“I’m going to e-mail you a file. I’d like you to track down a missing girl.”
“Can I kill her?”
There was so much hopefulness in that voice that I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, you can’t kill her, but if she was taken against her will, you can kill whoever took her.”
“Deal.”
I was not surprised when the man hung up. That was just kind of Samson’s way. He wasn’t much of a talker. Most people were afraid to talk to him anyway. He was huge and as intimidating as hell. He was not cute and cuddly.
I scanned the contents of the file and then sent it off to Samson in an e-mail. Hopefully, the panther could track the girl and bring her home to her parents. I smiled as I set the file off to one side. It wasn’t a closed case until the girl was returned to her parents, but it was now in Samson’s hands. I could move on to the next file.
There were a lot of them.
I popped another grape into my mouth as I moved to the next file. I frowned as I started reading through the reports included. Another teenage panther shifter missing.
Something about that made my stomach clench. I grabbed the next file and then the next until I had gone through the entire stack. Out of twenty-four files, seven of them were about missing teen panther shifters.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
I needed to run this by someone before I jumped to conclusions. I picked up my phone and dialed as I continued to leaf through the file on top. Another missing teenage girl.
“What do you want?”
I jolted at the growly words. A quick glance at my screen confirmed the identity of the person I had called. It had been automatic.
“My apologies. I dialed the wrong number.”
Maybe I needed to delete Stone’s contact information.
I quickly hung up. After taking a deep breath—and pretending that my hands weren’t shaking—I carefully dialed again, making sure I didn’t dial the wrong number.
Relief flooded me when I heard Stryker answer the phone. “I think I have a problem and I could use your help.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Thanks.” I felt marginally better when I hung up, but only about the files. My stomach was still in knots over accidentally calling Stone after I had promised not to.
I glanced down at my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I came to Stone’s name. I had him on speed dial as well as programmed into my phone. It had been so automatic to call him. I had always called Stone when I needed to talk something out. I felt as if I was floundering now that I couldn’t. Stryker was a good guy and he’d help me work through my suspicions, but he wasn’t Stone.
