Griff's piercing golden eyes swept the ring of men surrounding them. Even though he couldn't shift, he still had an eagle shifter's ability to see tiny details that others would miss.
“Mako sharks, mostly,” Griff murmured. “The big one is a tiger shark.”
Chase's smile widened. *No one in our league, then.*
Griff shot him a sidelong, exasperated look. “Will you at least try not to tempt fate?”
“Now, I'm fairly certain I would have heard about a pegasus shifter joining the police,” said a new voice, sounding amused. The crowd of shark shifters parted to let the speaker through. “So I'm guessing Chase Tiernach has dropped by for a visit.”
*What was that about tempting fate?* Chase sent to Griff.
Sammy Smiles towered a good foot over both of them. His bald head seemed to slope directly into his wide shoulders, which were as thickly muscled as a body-builder's. He was not so much clothed as upholstered in a brilliant white suit.
His wide smile showed way, way too many teeth.
“Well now,” drawled the Great White shark shifter in a strong Texan accent. “No fires here, boys. Aren't you a little out of your jurisdiction?”
Chase matched his shit-eating grin with one of his own. “I'm here on behalf of a friend. Shane West.”
“Ah, good old West. Great pilot. Great gambler, too.” Sammy's brilliant smile didn't touch his flat, cold eyes. “I'm so looking forward to seeing him fly in the Rydon Cup in a few days. Should be quite the race.”
“Sadly not,” Chase said lightly. “Seeing as he has two broken arms.”
“Really.” Sammy's expression didn't change. “What a pity.”
Chase held the shark shifter's stare. “Naturally that means all bets are off.”
Sammy sighed regretfully, his teeth sharp and gleaming. “Ah, no can do, boys. I've got my reputation to consider. West bet me his plane, and, well, a deal's a deal.”
“Do you cheat on a deal?” Chase countered. “Because I know for a fact you were responsible for landing West in hospital.”
Sammy's smile never wavered. “That's a mighty rude accusation, son. Folks could take offence.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “Are you claiming you knew nothing about it?”
Sammy spread his stubby-fingered hands. “Nothing whatsoever.”
“Lying,” Griff said, very softly.
Sammy looked at the dispatcher, his smile turning just a shade less friendly. “Excuse me?”
“I'm sorry, I should have introduced you,” said Chase. “This is Griff MacCormick. Have you heard of the MacCormicks? They're a Highland eagle clan. They are remarkably good at spotting things. Prey. Body language. Lies. That sort of thing.”
“We know that two of your people started that bar fight,” Griff said. “And that bar fight turned into a fire. And that puts it under the jurisdiction of Commander Ash.”
“You may have heard of him,” Chase added.
“The Phoenix,” Sammy said. His smile was still fixed in place, though it was looking more and more like a predator baring its teeth rather than any sort of human gesture. “Well now, that's all mighty fine, but I have to say I don't know why you think my boys were involved in any bar fight. Let alone a fire.”
Chase gazed contemplatively up at the clear blue sky. “There's an interesting legend about pegasus shifters. Says that we were created by Hermes, the God of Messengers. Do you know what a messenger needs to be able to do, above all else?”
“Fly real fast away from bad situations?” suggested Sammy.
Chase looked the shark shifter straight in his black, dead eyes. “Find people.”
“West saw his attackers,” Griff said. “Chase picked their faces right out of West's mind. And so he knows they're right here on this boat, right now.”
“Still claim you know nothing about the attack, Sammy?” asked Chase.