Tiger's Last Chance

By Christina Lynn Lambert

While working a case, Sean Whitman is tortured for information, drugged, and bitten against his will by a shape shifter. The fallout leaves him jobless, friendless, and dumped by his girlfriend. Needing a fresh start, he leaves town and opens a private investigation business. Learning to live life sober isn’t easy, but he makes it to the two year mark.

When Detective Nikki Jackson with the Great Oaks, Virginia Police Department calls him, accusing him of breaking into his ex-girlfriend’s house, Sean can’t help but like the sound of her voice, despite her ridiculous accusations. He’s shocked when she calls him back with an apology then asks for his help as a consultant on a case. On the phone, her sweet, slightly Southern voice captivates him. In person, she’s unlike any other woman he’s encountered, and nearly impossible to resist. But could the sexy detective ever want a man like him?

After Nikki’s last dating disaster, the mountain lion shifter has sworn off men. Then she meets Sean, and with every second she spends around the tall, dark-eyed man, her resolve crumbles. And the fact the guy’s kiss leaves her breathless? Yeah, that no-men idea sounds more and more like a bad idea. But for some reason, despite the undeniable attraction between them, Sean seems determined to push her away.

An investigation into missing refugees leaves Nikki with more questions than answers. Her refusal to let the matter drop leads her to the discovery of a radical political group’s horrifying plot for dominance. Traitors are embedded within the very organizations meant to keep shifters safe. As the list of people she can trust dwindles, Nikki calls on Sean to help her unravel a web of deceit.

Sean realizes pushing Nikki away was a stupid move. So when the sexy, amazing detective contacts him, he jumps at the second chance, dropping everything to fly across the country to help her. And he hates flying. But with her life in danger, he’ll do whatever it takes.
Can Sean and Nikki stop a hate group from carrying out their deadly plans? And if so, will he get one last chance to prove his love for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Decadent Publishing
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781683614319

Book preview

Chapter One

Tired, hungry, and drenched in sweat from the Texas sun, Sean waved good night to the last of the Homes for Life volunteer crew. Heat blasted him when he opened the door to his idling truck. He pressed his hand to the vent—warm air. He groaned and rolled down the window. Getting his truck’s air-conditioning system repaired was going on his to-do list for the week. Hot air blew in through the open windows as he drove down the highway.

He missed the weather in Seattle. He’d called Washington state home for almost ten years. The rain and gray skies had always been calming, in a weird way. He missed the people he’d thought were his friends, or as close to being friends as a closed-off jerk like him could get. He didn’t miss Boston. Well, maybe the snow. Maybe the restaurants. Not many warm-and-fuzzy childhood memories of his time in Boston to reflect upon.

Texas didn’t feel like home yet. Maybe because he’d moved here two years ago after losing everything—his job, his house, his girlfriend. Shortly after arriving in Texas, before he’d even finished unpacking, he’d started Whitman Investigations. He had to eat. Needed a roof over his head. Hated the idea of doing almost anything else for a living. So he’d worked his ass off finding clients, chasing leads, and establishing a good business reputation. And in his free time, he volunteered with the Homes for Life crew. He put one foot in front of the other every day and kept going while trying not to wonder too much about whether his efforts mattered. Did anything really matter in the long run? Should it?

Enough of that shit. He turned on the radio and the notes of Social Distortion singing Ball and Chain hit him. The windows in his truck were down, but he didn’t care. He would sing this song at the top of his lungs anyway. At least until he got to the parking lot of Victor’s Red and Dead. With the truck parked and the volume down, he let the last few notes of the song wash over him, steeling him for a while. The music was a temporary armor.

The choices on the menu at Victor’s Red and Dead made him weak at the knees with hunger. The guy at the counter offered him a free bottle of a new brand of craft beer from a nearby brewing company.

No thanks. I’ll take a bottle of water. And a bottle of pineapple juice. The beer looked tempting. The label hinted at an orange flavor, and Sean could practically taste the subtle citrus, but the water and juice would have to suffice. He still wasn’t sure if it would ever be okay for him to have one or two beers. Some people at the meetings he occasionally attended swore they had gotten to the point where they could handle a few drinks every now and then with no problems. The beer looked tempting.

Might always be too soon to have one beer.

The bag of takeout called out to him all the way home, but he waited. Once inside the front door of his office/apartment, the cool air hit him. Dirty work boots, pants, and shirt got chucked and left in the foyer, and he sank onto the sofa so he could unwrap his big, beautiful meatball sub. The landline rang before he could take the first bite. That landline was set up specifically for his business, and he needed a steady amount of jobs to stay in business. Fine, he’d take a quick message.

Whitman Investigations. How can I help you?

Hi. I’m trying to reach Sean Whitman? Whoever wanted to reach him had a lovely feminine voice.

Speaking. His sandwich could wait a few minutes.

This is Detective Nicole Jackson with the Great Oaks Police Department in Virginia.

An uneasy feeling burrowed into the pit of his stomach. His ex-girlfriend lived in Great Oaks, Virginia.

What’s going on? And why call him about it? There was no way in hell he would be Sydney’s emergency contact. Not after what happened between the two of them.

There was a break-in at Sydney Reid’s home in Great Oaks. Can you account for your whereabouts last night?

What the hell? Sydney must have still thought he had hurt her on purpose despite the letter he’d sent to her a few months ago explaining the situation. Obviously, his letter hadn’t done anything to change her mind.

He would never have wanted to hurt Sydney. Ever. What happened the day she stopped by his house to end things with him two years before…? Well, he knew how it looked, and he couldn’t blame her for not believing him when he tried to explain what happened. He’d sent his explanation in a letter because sending a letter meant not having to hear her voice. A letter involved no contact and no look of judgment in her eyes. He’d endured enough judgment. He needed to hang on to the small amount of dignity and self-respect he had rebuilt.

Ms. Reid listed you as a past assaulter. I’m still waiting on your records from the Seattle Police Department since I couldn’t get an actual human on the phone to discuss anything with me for more than fifteen seconds, but…

Is Sydney okay?

Yes. She’s fine. The detective’s sarcastic tone rubbed like sandpaper against unhealed wounds. Answer the question, Mr. Whitman. Where were you last night? The contempt in her voice worked its way into his tired body.

In Texas, Detective Jackson. And I’m still in Texas.

Where exactly in Texas were you yesterday?

Corpus Christi. Working. I run an information-gathering business. It’s not a traditional nine-to-five kind of job. I was doing some, uh, surveillance last night. Surveillance—illegal breaking and entering, filming evidence. Today, I have spent the last eight hours volunteering with the Homes for Life construction crew.

I’ll need some proof.

And that was it. That was fucking it! Hadn’t he given up enough? Every single one of his friends in Seattle still thought he was guilty. They had assumed he had purposely thrown his ex-girlfriend down the stairs of his front porch. Well, everybody except Manny and Ian. Neither of them had their minds made up one way or the other. He had convinced the two, or rather bribed them, to follow Sydney around for a few weeks after she got out of the hospital to make sure she wasn’t in danger. No way in hell he would’ve been able to focus in rehab if he was worried someone could be after Sydney, someone who assumed she knew something she didn’t. His name was still shit with some people, no matter what his file had been amended to show. Cops calling him, two years after the fact, treating him like a criminal? Fuck that.

Did you hear me, Mr. Whitman? I’ll need some sort of proof as to your whereabouts yesterday.

Listen up, Detective Jackson. I don’t know what you think you know about what happened between me and Sydney, but my employee file with Seattle PD has been amended and my arrest record has been destroyed. If you can find someone with clearance high enough, they’ll explain the whole damn thing to you! Sean hung up and tossed the phone onto the sofa. Detective Jackson’s voice, though, even while she was basically calling him a liar and a criminal, had been nice to listen to.

He pushed thoughts of Detective Jackson’s sweet voice into the outskirts of his mind and ate his meatball sub.

The next day, he and his assistant, Darnell, drove to a resort town in Galveston. Their job entailed putting a stop to a huge theft problem plaguing the area around a bunch of high-end hotels and shops. It didn’t take them long to find the group responsible for the problem. A bunch of greedy pricks dressing like hipsters and pretending to be trust fund babies on vacation, all the while conning and stealing from tourists left and right. With the help of newly purchased surveillance equipment, his favorite toys being two drones that didn’t look like drones, he and Darnell had followed the tight-knit group, dogged their steps for days and nights, until he and his assistant managed to get evidence on every single motherfucker.

All the way home, they dripped sweat in his truck with no air-conditioning. After dropping Darnell off at his place, Sean planned to get caught up on some sleep. His eyes were crossing despite the two cups of coffee he’d downed on the drive.

He unlocked the door to his apartment, went through the front area that functioned as his business office and waiting room, and headed straight for the bedroom. He stripped and lay against the cool cotton sheets. A wailing sound called out to him. Why had he programmed that horrible ringtone for the landline? Why hadn’t he turned off the fucking ringer? He started to silence the phone and let it take a message, but the caller ID said Great Oaks, Virginia Police Department.

Yeah? What the fuck did Great Oaks PD want with him?

Mr. Whitman? Detective Jackson had a softer, kinder tone for him this time. I understand the contents of your file, and I also did a little research. I know exactly what kind of business you currently operate. You offer more than the basic, simple information-gathering services, more than a typical private investigator, correct?

That’s right. People came to him, including people from different police departments, when they couldn’t get information or evidence any other way. You about to overreach your authority all the way from Virginia?

No. Not at all. I have a group of…friends who could use your skills and services. If you’re interested. The compensation will be more than fair.

He wanted to be a dick to her, give her some sarcastic, biting comment about how he didn’t give a fuck about a higher pay rate, but he couldn’t bring himself to act like a jerk. Plus, he could use the extra money to invest in his business, and for more IT classes for Darnell. I’m listening.

We could use your help with some problems similar to what you dealt with on your last case in Seattle as a narcotics detective.

I’m open to that. He’d work with the detective who had basically called him a liar if it meant putting a stop to something as awful as what he’d been investigating in Washington State.

I have some contacts who would need to interview you once you got to Great Oaks. For security reasons.

I understand the need for security. He didn’t ask why she would extend such an offer to a stranger, especially after their last conversation, although if she was hinting at the hidden, off-the-record parts of what he’d investigated in Seattle, then he needed to be extra careful with what he said over the phone. "Detective Jackson, you know I’m just a regular kind of guy, right?" Shape shifters and other groups of strange people used the term regular to refer to those without any enhanced or extraordinary abilities.

No. I didn’t know. I assumed when you were bitten…

"After that dog bit me. The thing that attacked him sure as hell hadn’t been a precious little family pet. Also, definitely not a dog. One of the guys who jumped me injected me with something. It made me crazy strong, but there was only one time I ever felt…different."

The detective gasped. I didn’t know that was even possible. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize what you had lost. Well, your regular status would have to be taken into account when you’re on assignment. Even so, since you’re already familiar with aspects of a different nature and worked a case with strange elements, I’d still like you to come to Virginia and meet with my contacts.

How could he turn down an offer like that? When do you need me there?

In a couple days if you can clear your schedule.

I can. Whitman Investigations didn’t have much scheduled for the next few weeks, and, in truth, those jobs were easy enough for Darnell to handle as long as Sean checked in with him periodically.

Great. I’ll be happy to reserve a plane ticket for you so you can get back to sleep.

Damn, do I sound that tired? I hate flying. I’ll be driving instead. Could you find me a decent hotel room though? Flying freaked him out. Well, being stuck in small spaces with no possible exit was what scared him. Planes were that. In the air. Nope. No thanks. Not if he had a choice.

Sure. I know the perfect place. I’ll book your room so you can check in by Wednesday afternoon. Give me your cell phone number, and I’ll text you the details.

Apparently, he missed having female company more than he realized because he would rather have the detective call him instead of typing in a few sentences on a keypad and pressing send.

Not going there.

Thanks, I appreciate it. He gave the detective his cell phone number.

And, Mr. Whitman? Ah, hell. Her voice was making him want to do things to her.

Call me Sean. Because he wanted to hear her say his name.

Okay. Sean?

He stifled a groan as something unexpected and sweet coursed through his veins. Yeah?

When you get to Great Oaks, why don’t you meet with Sydney, tell her face-to-face what actually happened that day. She’s familiar with the, uh, stranger aspects of life.

He paused, not sure how to put into words without sharing anything too personal. I sent her a letter with a brief explanation. Her reply to me indicated she thought I was lying. It wouldn’t matter. I knew she was already planning to end things between us anyway. And her wanting to end things? That’s on me. So, yeah, it doesn’t matter.

It should. Having her know the truth, especially hearing it from you, could give her some much needed peace. It could also keep you from having to deal with annoying phone calls from detectives who don’t have all their facts. I’m sorry about that, by the way.

Thanks. I’ll think about talking to her in person.

Okay. I’ll text you with the details about your hotel room.

Maybe you could call me instead? He could hear the rusty bass of his own voice carrying the invitation. He wasn’t much on elaborate games with women, so he kept things simple and straightforward. The detective sounded so damn fine, he couldn’t help putting the message out there.

Detective Jackson gave a cute little laugh, one that made him imagine her on the other end of the line, blushing. I’ll see you when you get here.

See you then. Damn, it couldn’t be soon enough.

Chapter Two

Oh, not professional. Not at all. Nikki chided herself over giggling like a teenager at Sean Whitman’s suggestive tone. Thankfully, everyone at the station seemed to be busy doing their own thing. Nobody had looked her way. Most of the police officers and the other detective for the Great Oaks police department were regulars. They wouldn’t have heard her little giggle. Those regulars wouldn’t have scented the faint smell of desire the sound of his voice had evoked within her.

Animal shifters had heightened senses, even when in human form. She didn’t want any of her fellow shifters at the station asking who had made her hot and stupid. After the disaster with Adam the asshat, she had made it known she wouldn’t be rejoining the dating pool until people evolved to the point where they didn’t disappoint or become shitheads. She might be single for a long time.

Sean, as a former Seattle Narcotics Detective, presently an investigator in the private sector, would have skills the investigative teams in Shifters United would find useful. His current profession wasn’t for the faint of heart or for those overly concerned with following the law to the letter. Plus, the man had to be pretty tough because he was still alive after being attacked and tortured by two shifters. The fact he wasn’t actually a shifter might not be too much of a weakness.

Nikki had gained clearance to the more in-depth version of his files, thanks to a few strings her captain at Great Oaks PD pulled. The files told a story more by its omissions and representations of what needed to pass as facts. She had understood the hidden meaning fine. Sean had been through hell, lost someone he cared about, and it seemed his boss had told a few lies about him. Someone higher up had set the record straight though. As straight as a record could go without throwing out red flags to the existence of weird things regulars might wish didn’t exist.

The file in her hands, words on paper, described a living, breathing man who seemed to have sacrificed his career to save someone’s life. Sean was either a good man to whom a lot of bad things had happened or a manipulative prick playing people for a fool. If he was playing everyone, she could lure him in and get some answers. She read the events summary section of his file again.

WHITMAN, SEAN. SEATTLE POLICE DEPARTMENT RECORD AMENDMENT. AUTHORIZED BY LIEUTENANT STANLEY BRODNAX

Upon returning to his home on an off-duty day, Detective Whitman discovered two men and their large dog inside the residence. The men assaulted Whitman and used various electrical devices and weapons to inflict injuries in an unsuccessful attempt to gain further information about an ongoing investigation of missing children and teens in Washington State. Detective Whitman was working with detectives representing various Missing Persons, Homicide, and Narcotics departments in the Washington area as well as some outside contacts whose identities must remain classified.

After unsuccessful interrogation attempts, the unknown men allowed their dog to bite Detective Whitman. After Whitman sustained bite wounds, one suspect injected him with an unidentified drug that may have reacted to the alcohol Whitman consumed during lunch, causing a surge of adrenalin which allowed him to subdue both assailants. Whitman feared for the life of Ms. Sydney Reid, who had arrived during the chaotic time, unaware of the struggle occurring inside Whitman’s home.

Due to multiple injuries and being forcibly injected with an unknown substance, Detective Whitman suffered from extreme pain and lack of fine motor coordination. This deteriorating physical state led to Whitman accidentally injuring Ms. Reid in his haste to convince her to leave before the suspects were able to get free of their restraints. A neighbor witnessed Ms. Reid falling down the steps of Whitman’s house and called for emergency services.

The responding police officer, Joel Green, arrived on the scene and radioed ahead to the station that he and Whitman were actively working to keep the assailants subdued in order to safely transport. Officer Green put both suspects in his squad car and proceeded towards the station without waiting for uniformed backup. Officer Green never arrived at the station. He and both suspects remain missing.

Soon after the incident, Whitman resigned his position with the Seattle Police Department under the advice of his captain. Though Mr. Whitman is no longer part of the Seattle police department, it is notable that he was deemed innocent of all assault charges against him and chose to continue to provide the Seattle Police Department with as much information and as many willing contacts as possible to help further the missing person’s investigation in his absence.

Nikki had some questions for Sean. Shifters United was still investigating those particular missing persons cases in Washington State. Twenty-five shifters, all children and teenagers, went missing at different times and were eventually found dead within less than a year. One of SU’s investigators died during this investigation. Did Sean have something to do with Vince’s death?

Her instincts said no. If her instincts proved correct, she could recommend him to be a consultant for Shifters United. SU needed a few extra hands because, lately, a thread of corruption had invaded the organization, and the unwelcome thread needed to be unraveled and cut away without mercy. Even though a few traitors acting against the current SU administration had already been caught, she had a feeling there were more.

The next part of Sean’s file made his captain look like a prick who had wanted to ruin the former detective’s career.

This current record serves as an amendment to the original file created by Captain Frederick Parham. Captain Parham indicated in the previous version of this record that Mr. Whitman left the department under less-than-honorable circumstances. This record serves as clarification that Whitman has retired with honor and that he voluntarily submitted to an alcohol-related rehabilitation center after leaving the Seattle Police Force. It is important to note that Whitman has always tested negative during random and required employee drug and alcohol screenings.

In the record amendment, Sean’s lieutenant seemed to have gone out of his way to note that Sean had hurt Sydney on accident, and he hadn’t dishonored his department by working under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Could the amendment be a lie? New evidence on the break-in at Sydney’s house had Nikki convinced he hadn’t played a part in that event. She’d have to wait until meeting him to figure out if the amendment to his record was part of some type of cover-up or the outing of his captain’s lie.

Learning Sean was still a regular after being bitten gave her chills. Maybe he hadn’t really been bitten. Or had someone finally come up with a cure that permanently stole a shifter’s ability to change into animal form? If so, she wondered if that drug also took away the shifter counterpart that shared space in a shifter’s head. She couldn’t imagine living without Li, her mountain lion…sister, other half, friend, voice in her head, whatever. There were no words for what Li and Nikki were to one another. Some things were beyond explanation.

She had already seen a copy of Sean’s picture in his file. The sharp curve of his lip and the tight set of his square jaw had, at first, suggested a hard man, one who saw everything in black and white, the kind of person who said things like it’s my way or the highway and then missed every clue laid out before them due to their own arrogance or inability to bend. She hated guys like that. She hated working with people like that. It made everything harder. His eyes, which were wide and heavy lidded with thick dark lashes, said something altogether different than the impression given by his tough, stone-hard fuck you expression.

Sadness and strength shone from his gaze as if, no matter how hard he tried to stay impartial, he still gave a fuck, and things could still get to him. Exactly the kind of man she needed. To consult with the SU. Someone who hadn’t given up and started seeing people as numbers and case files.

She booked his hotel room and called him with the details. Their short conversation made her cheeks hot and got her heart thumping again. She reprimanded herself for such a silly reaction to a man’s words over a disembodied phone system. Li, Nikki’s mountain lion counterpart, seemed to know better.

Instincts, Li reminded her. Yes, instincts. Nikki had them by the truckload, in both her human form and her powerful mountain lion form. Her mountain lion purred at the compliment of powerful. Of course it was true, but Li did like to hear nice things. Instinct told Nikki that Sean would be a good resource to keep in mind for a few different projects with Shifters United. Instinct also told her that he could make her scream and sigh and want in a most unbelievable way.

Li might have growled a little, and Nikki’s panties may have gotten a little damp as a list of things she would like Sean to do to her flashed through her mind. She reminded herself how Adam the asshat had recently caused her to cry a river of tears into her pillow. She didn’t need to scream and sigh with anybody again for a while since crying and heartbreak always seemed to follow the good moments. Every damn time.

Chapter Three

After a 20-hour drive from Texas to Virginia, Sean parked his rental car in the lot of the Heatherfield Inn. Finally. He’d stopped only a few times on the way to Virginia to eat and refuel the little Honda Civic. He climbed out of the rental and stretched his cramped-up legs. Probably should have flown. No. He