Shifter by Jennifer Reynolds Read Free Book Online Page A

around here all day.” Shit, I’m rambling to this poor man who probably really wants to leave my house. “So, what can I do for you?”
    To my surprise he asks, “How old is he?”
    “I’ve had him about a month, and the vet said he was about three months at the time I got him, so four months I guess.”
    “Oh,” he says, sounding disappointed.
    “Why, are you missing an animal?” I ask, fear clouding my voice. This man is going to be his master. I just know it. Is that why the cat—I really have to give him a name—reacted the way he did when I opened the door? I sigh, resigned to what is about to happen. I knew he was going to have to go sometime, but if this man wants him, he is going to have to go through the shelter, who I’m going to sue for giving out my personal information.
    “No, not a pet. My brother is missing,” he says.
    “I’m sorry. How can I help?” I ask in confusion. If he is missing his brother, why is he asking about my cat?
    “We have witnesses who say he was last seen in this neighborhood. My other brother Darius, along with some friends of ours have been canvassing the area trying to see if anyone else has seen him.”
    “Do you have a picture I can look at?” I ask, thinking seriously that I should invite him in instead of making him stand on my front porch and wondering what the hell has gotten into that cat. He sounds as if he is pacing my bathroom floor. If he digs his claws into anything or scratches the paint off my door, I’m gonna… I don’t know what I’m going to do at this moment; this gorgeous piece of ass in front of me keeps distracting me.
    “Yeah. We are handing out flyers.” He hands me an eight and a half by eleven sheet of paper with a man’s picture, name, distinguishing marks, and a number on it. The man on the flyer is as sexy as his brother is, if not sexier. He looks a little younger but not by much. His hair is darker, and he isn’t as big, but he is damn near close.
    “I’m Devan by the way.” He points to his name on the paper and the phone number beside it. “That is a hot line we’ve set up for people to call if they have any information. Darius and I will be the ones to answer it most of the time, but if we aren’t there, someone will answer.”
    Is my cat scratching on my door? The noises coming from my bathroom have me turning to glance at the door, listening intently. Yeah, that is defiantly scratching noises. You little shit. You had better stop that . As if he hears me, the noise stops. That’s right; you don’t want me catching you doing that.
    Giving Devan my full attention again, I ask, “What are the police doing? If you and your family are doing all of this.”
    “Not much, unfortunately,” Devan admits a little discouraged. “Dimitri is a grown man. His house shows no signs of foul play. His bank account hasn’t been touched since he went missing. They have nothing to go on. We are actually following a lead a woman at a nightclub my brothers and I went to a while back gave us. She said that he called her about a month ago. They met at her sister’s house over near St Michael’s Catholic Church.” He pointed north toward the state line even though the church wasn’t that far away. I’m not Catholic, but I know the church. It was about a ten-minute walk from my house. “They went for a walk. They argued about four blocks from here. She left him walking in this direction.”
    I hear my new cat pacing again. A small part of me wishes that Devan would leave so that I can let him out. Wait, what? I know I’m not wishing this man away just so that I can let my cat have free reign over my house. I’m pathetic.
    “Was it a serious argument?” I ask unsure why that is information I feel I need to know.
    “The woman said it couldn’t have been because she can’t even remember what it was about. They didn’t know each other. The walk was supposed to be a get to know each other sort of thing, but somehow the two ended