Alpha Micah Black: Werewolf Detective (Complete)

Chapter Two

Upon reaching the Police building, Roger finally shuts up and pulls around to the back. I gratefully climbed out of the back of the cruiser and mumbled a disheartening “Thanks”. Roger and George pull out of the parking lot to continue with their morning patrol. I'll catch George later for a ride back home. After sneaking inside, I headed towards the time clock. I then sprinted to the elevator and pressed the fourth-floor button. The doors are taking way too long to operate. The Jeopardy theme song plays sarcastically in my head.

“Why is this damn thing taking so long to move? I should have taken the stairs.” I started to step out of the elevator when the doors finally closed. Too late now. When I finally reach my floor, I exit and step into coordinated chaos. I can only imagine what the citizens of Wolfdale City woke up to deal with today. But before I can reach my desk area, a loud voice is heard, aimed in my direction.

“Black! My office, NOW!” booms Captain Carlton Winston. A man in his late forties with graying red hair at his temples. He is average in height, about five feet and seven inches, and not so average in weight, at about two hundred and ten pounds. Supposedly, he's a happily married man of thirty years. I guess he married young. Lucky bastard. I told you my day was going to be bad. I sluggishly made my way into his office. Dropping nonchalantly into a hardwood chair across from a greatly frustrated man,

“Captain?” I acknowledged with a question, “What's up?”

“How many times have you come into work late and looking like....well, not up to standard procedure? You can't keep doing this. We have a protocol to maintain. Please, try to look halfway decent tomorrow. I understand you had to have a lift in a patrol vehicle this morning again?” he chided. I just shrugged in response. What can I say? It's all true.

Same lecture, different day. The only reason they have not dismissed me is that I am that good of a detective. And the city can not afford to lose me. I am the only detective who has brought in the correct perpetrator every time. Captain Winston shakes his head and has me leave his office. You know, I almost feel sorry for him. The crime rate in Wolfdale City has oddly doubled within the past two years. The paperwork and logistics that he alone has to deal with is a migraine. Turning to leave, I heard his phone ring.

“Hello, Captain Winston speaking,” he answers. “Yeah, okay, I'll get someone right on that, sir.”

Finally, making my way back towards my desk area, I ran my hands through my hair and sighed, hard. I guess my hair is longer than I thought. Not paying attention to my co-workers, I accidentally bumped into one. Thankfully, it's only my partner, Officer Cassidy Peterson. She knows and understands my predicament, except for the werewolf part, of course.

“Sorry, Cass, I didn't see you there,” I mumbled half apologetically.

Don't get me wrong now. Cass is an excellent detective as well. Just not as good as me. She is a recruit to our force. She joined the department two years ago and has done exceptionally well. Cassidy stands about five feet and four inches tall and has a short pixie-cut hair-do. I guess one would call her hair color either dirty blonde or a very light brown. I say that it's definitely on the dirty blonde side. She is athletic in build but still looks feminine enough to look decent in a skirt. She is married to a great guy named Thomas. They have been married for over ten years this February. They have a seven-year-old son named Rochester, the poor kid, but they call him Rocky instead. He's also a great kid. I like him.

“Whatever Black,” she retorts. “So what did the dear old captain want?” she asks jokingly.

“Same old, same old,” I grumbled back.

Both Cass and I walked toward our desk area eagerly to get to work. Okay, maybe Cass is more eager than I am at this moment. Guess what's sitting on my desk, looking like a Christmas present just waiting to be opened? Yep, another wonderful package from my wonderful psychotic “admirer”. Just what I don't need right now. I'm so tired of these. I pick it up and shove it into the bottom of my desk, slamming the drawer loudly. The loud noise causes heads to pop up.

“What?” I mouthed back at everyone.

Everyone except Cass went back to their tasks. Cass gawks at me for a few minutes and then finally speaks, “You know, Black, you seriously could use a haircut. Ugh, you look awful.”

“Thanks, love you too,” I replied sarcastically.

Sitting down at my desk, I turned on my computer to log in. I started looking through some of the case files. I need to get these caught up. They need to be completed in order to be officially filed away. I'm normally not this bad at keeping up with these things. Those damn dreams are throwing me into a bad loop.

“Ugh! C'mon Mike, get your head in the game,” I scolded myself as I pounded the keys on the keyboard.

After it took about fifteen minutes to find my rhythm for my task, Captain Winston approached Cass and me.

“I need both of you to go down to The Roundhouse nightclub. They found a body in the alley behind the building,” he says, nearly out of breath.

“Okay, but isn't that area usually the narcotics division of operation?” Cass questions sincerely.

“Not this time,” he somberly replied.

“Who are the uniformed officers at the scene?” I inquired.

“Oren and Harper,” he answered.

I just nodded, taking in the brief information.

Getting up from our desks, Cass and I both grab our firearms and make sure we have our badges handy as well. We quickly made our way down the stairwell. The elevator is just too slow. Exiting the building, we headed towards the parking area. Cass quickly scans the lot for my car.

“Car's in the shop again, Black?” she asks slightly playfully.

I don't say a single thing. I just gave her a glare, showing my annoyance.

“Hmm, okay. I'm driving,” Cass insists.

We quickly climbed into the station's black 2018 GMC Terrain. Pulling out onto the street, we flipped the switch to the light bar located on the dashboard. Nothing like waking up to lights and sirens before breakfast. Sorry citizens of Wolfdale City.

“s**t. I forgot to grab something from the break room...again,” I mumbled in my head. Great, nothing like working at a crime scene on an empty stomach. This is going to be a struggle. Hopefully, my wolf won't have so much of a problem with finding clues to help understand what has transpired at the scene. Then again, my wolf hasn't been much help at all as of late. If I only knew why. My personal mystery to solve.