Moira Rogers - Crux

Jackson was glad he’d already called Nick to update her on Mackenzie’s status and whereabouts. “Let me guess. Cocktail waitress? Exotic dancer?”

“Secretary. It’s always the secretary.” Alec turned his dark gaze on Kat and flashed her a wicked smile. “Why is that, Kat?”

Jackson watched in amusement as Kat snatched the camera from Alec’s hand with a dangerous look. “Don’t ask me. I wouldn’t get mixed up with you if you paid me. Oh wait, you do.” She handled the camera with speed and familiarity, her fingers flying over the buttons. She plugged a cord from her computer into the side of the camera and pulled her keyboard toward her. “Now, Jackson , on the other hand… I’d get mixed up with him for sure. Especially if he made me Italian food.”

Alec scowled. “You are too popular with the ladies for your own damn good, Holt.”

“Don’t I know it.” He thought about Mackenzie and how she hadn’t seemed the slightest bit interested in him. “Then again, maybe not.”

Alec looked like he was going to say something, but Kat let out a sudden choked noise and pushed her chair back from her desk. “Holy crap, Alec. I’m never giving you the camera with the good zoom lens again.”

The pictures on her computer were gritty and explicit enough to leave no doubt about their client’s husband’s extramarital activities. His lurid affair with his secretary was splashed over Kat’s flat-screen monitor. In detail. Maybe too much detail.

Alec laughed. “Didn’t have to zoom much. They were right next to the window, and I can move pretty quietly when I want to.”

Jackson leaned over Kat’s shoulder. “Looks like our society matron could have been absolutely right to be concerned about that huge life-insurance policy.” He whistled and accidentally nudged Kat’s purse aside, revealing a copy of the Delta Examiner , a regional tabloid newspaper. “Oh, Kat . Alec, look what Kat’s reading.”

She tried to snatch away the tabloid, but Alec’s shapeshifter reflexes made him impossibly fast, even when he was exhausted. He grabbed the paper and frowned. “Oh, hell. You’d better have a good excuse for this, Katherine Gabriel, or I may fire your ass.”

“It’s funny,” she retorted, her cheeks bright red. “I like reading the stories about the so-called supernatural conspiracy. This one has an article about a secret cabal of psychics who control the government.” She sniffed. “No one invited me to join.”

Jackson laughed. “Maybe they don’t need any soft-hearted empaths.” He looked at the paper over Alec’s shoulder. “Yep, there’s your nemesis. C.E. Miller, the great paranormal whistle-blower.”

Alec’s scowl deepened as he flipped open the tabloid to the page listed and skimmed the article. “It’s not funny. We survive by flying beneath the radar. Whoever this clown is, he’s fucking shit up for everyone. Every damn week he manages to latch on to the latest gossip in the supernatural world and spew it over the pages of this rag. He has to be one of us, or he wouldn’t always know what’s going on.”

“Right.” Jackson walked over to the table and opened a bag of beignets. “’Cause everyone believes that stuff. Especially the thing about that secret cabal of psychics.” He took a bite of the fried dough, careful not to inhale any powdered sugar. “Someone get this guy a Pulitzer, already.”

Looking disgusted, Alec tossed the paper back on Kat’s desk. “Some day, when I’ve got some free time, I’m going to track that man down and have words with him. If he just wants money, he could write the same UFO and Bigfoot shit as everyone else. He doesn’t have to publish stuff that’s real.”

Jackson brought Kat a beignet on a napkin. “Suppose you’re right, Alec, and he’s one of us. He could belong to one of the factions that wants exposure, even if it’s dangerous.”

“All the more reason for me to track him down,” Alec said darkly. He sank into his chair with a glance at Jackson. “Is this job we’re doing for Nick going to keep you busy today? I can go talk to the husband, but I’ll need to bring Kat with me to work her mojo.”

Jackson almost told him that, technically, he was finished with his favor for Nick. “Actually, yeah. I’m going to check some things out. Why don’t you give me a call when you’re done with the husband? I need you and Kat to take a gander at Nick’s new employee, if that’s all right.”

Kat made a face. “God, just promise me it’s the last time I have to see that slimeball husband. I always feel like I need a shower after reading him.”

Jackson started flipping through a stack of mail. “Alec won’t make you go back, Kat,” he promised absently. “No more gold-digging, slimeball husbands for at least a week.”

She shuddered. “I am never getting married. Never.”

Though the sentiment wasn’t far from his own feelings on the subject, Jackson thought about his parents and their nearly thirty-five years of wedded bliss. “Find the right guy, Kat, and you won’t have to worry about him wanting to bump you off for money.”

“Plus I’d have to actually have a lot of money first,” She pulled her chair back to her desk. The phone rang, and she wrinkled her nose as she slipped on her headset. “Holt and Jacobson Investigations. How can I help you?”

Jackson threw away half the stack of mail and tossed some of the remaining correspondence on Alec’s desk. “Will you be finished with the husband by around two this afternoon?”

Alec scratched at the side of his beard as he stared past Jackson in thought. “Should be. Depends on what Kat gets from him, though. You want us to swing by Mahalia’s when we get done?”

“That’d work. I can’t quite figure this one out.”

“Yeah, me either,” Alec commiserated. “Of course, that could be because you haven’t told me a damn thing aside from the fact that Nick hired some hot chick who was staying in a crap motel.”

Jackson blinked and flushed. How could he have forgotten to share with Alec the most important fact of all? “Nick thinks she’s a shapeshifter, but not a wolf. I can’t get a bead on her.”

“Apparently,” Alec drawled dryly. “She’s scrambled your brains but good, man. I can come by and take a look, and Kat will be able to give you an idea of what shape she’s in emotionally.”

Jackson focused on his planner. “I’ve got to meet an informant in about fifteen minutes. Give me a call when you’re headed to Mahalia’s.” He grabbed his cell phone and coffee. “Be careful with the husband. They freak out sometimes when they know they’re busted.”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of Kat.”

Jackson paused by her desk, held up the tabloid and grinned mischievously. “By the way? Last week, Miller wrote an article about the vampire underground here in the Big Easy. So cheer up. He’s not right about everything .”

Alec just snorted. “Thank God. If this town had vampires, I might throw myself in the damn Mississippi.”

A gentle knock woke Mackenzie, jerking her rather unpleasantly from a dream about Jackson and his strong arms. Fear froze her in place for one endless moment while she stared at the door and imagined all of the ways Marcus could have found her. Blood pounded in her ears as panic shot through her, leaving nothing behind it but the desperate need to escape.

The knock sounded again, louder this time, and she heard a friendly female voice on the other side of the door. “Mackenzie? It’s Nick.”

Feeling foolish, Mackenzie rose from the couch and crossed the living room. When she pulled the door open, she found her boss on the other side, looking so harmless it made her panic seem absurd. She stepped back so Nick could come inside. “Did—did Jackson call you? He told me it would be okay for me to stay here for the night.”