Banshee Charmer (Files from the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, #1) by Tiffany Allee

very least, pointless, but I answered it anyway.
    “Amanda Franklin’s.”
    Aggie cursed under his breath. “It’s a cop’s file, Mac. It’s going to be damned difficult to gain access to it, let alone get a copy out of the building.”
    “I know that, but she was my partner, Aggie. I need the fucking file.”
    “I’m not even on the freak squad. Why don’t you call one of your coworkers?”
    “I know you can do it, Aggie, and you don’t report to Vasquez.” The lieutenant would be hard-pressed to make him pay in any kind of significant way, even if he did find out Aggie passed the file along to me. Most people on the squad who weren’t closet or openly otherworlders landed there because they’d screwed up or pissed off someone important. When weird shit went down we were called in, and left to it, but no one was happy to see us otherwise. Aggie’s boss wouldn’t give him shit if Vasquez made a stink about him helping me, and Aggie knew it.
    There was silence on the other end of the line.
    “You owe me, Aggie.” It had been almost five years since I’d let Aggie talk me out of an arrest that would have forever tainted his oldest daughter’s record. I’d been a uniform then, and only a couple of years with my badge. Truth be told, I’d been more than a bit in awe of the homicide detective and had dropped the matter with a warning out of one part fear and two parts respect. But I’d changed over the years, and I wasn’t afraid to cash in the favor.
    He let out the breath he must have been holding for the last twenty seconds and muttered something noncommittal before the line clicked dead. I went to make another pot of coffee. I wasn’t worried about Aggie coming through. He was a good man and a damn fine cop. And he owed me.
    Two hours and three-quarters of a pot of coffee later, my doorbell rang. I trotted to the door, and then checked the peephole before opening it.
    “Here,” Aggie said, thrusting a thick file into my face. “It’s what I could get. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.” He paused, and an odd look flashed on his face, like he’d smelled something bad. “How are you?”
    “Fine. Thanks.”
    “Good.” He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “Well then.” With those charming words of support, he turned on his heel and walked down the sidewalk, heading back to his car.
    I shut the door behind him, flinching as it slammed, nose already in the copy of the file he’d brought me. They’d worked fast. An initial summary of her activities for the last few days had already been compiled, though there were a lot of blanks. Credit card activity for the last thirty days had been pulled. Aggie had even managed to snag the initial scene notes from the lead detective on the case.
    The name made me grimace. Corey Williams. Like Vasquez, Williams was a normal on the freak squad because he’d pissed someone off. He took it personally, and didn’t like associating with freaks.
    The oak chair creaked faintly as I sat down at the table. I steeled myself to look through the file. Blinking back tears, I checked the initial Medical Examiner’s report. I took a deep breath and swallowed a lump in my throat as I read through the sparse information. She’d been reduced to a victim: female, thirty-five years old, five feet eleven inches tall, single, no children. As a cop I had to keep my distance from victims. If I pondered the fact that the victims I examined with cold detachment were real people with lives that had come to an abrupt halt, it would make me crazy. But Amanda was real to me. Keeping my distance in this case was not an option.
    A loud knock sounded from the door and I started. Had Aggie forgotten to give me something? I trotted back to the door and swung it open without checking the peephole. Aidan stood on my step, a tight smile touching his lips.
    Before I could open my mouth to tell him to go away, he said, “I’m here to help.”
    I swallowed hard and