Secrets (20 page)

“No serious ailments?”

“No. Other cats caged in the facility did display severe deformities, evidence they'd been given something. I need a sample of that before I can say more about what its purpose is.” Lara shivered. “It scares me to think about it. I don't want to speculate what Carter has planned for the cats. I just want to stop him.”

Michelle sat across from Lara in silence for a few minutes. The conversation was sobering. Mindboggling. But what about Casey? “You mentioned things changed when Casey became the colony leader. Can you explain more about that? How long has he been the leader? Is it something you all vote on?”

Lara propped up her feet on the ottoman. “He's been the leader for about a year. He took over after his dad's tenure. Before that, the colony leaders have followed the ancient rules.”

“Ancient?”

Lara laughed. “Yes, ancient. Records of were-cats date back centuries. We've always been secretive, protected our own, and followed the old rules. There's lots of them, but in the case of leadership, the rules required that colony leaders be a pure.”

“A pure what?” Michelle's muscles started to loosen and she sank comfortably into the cushions, interested to learn everything about this species.

“Original were-cats carried the genetic trait, hence, pures. Moggies are were-cats who come from one were-cat parent and one normal. Or a cat who's become a were-cat by being bitten. Originals, pures, took great pride in being direct genetic offspring. They felt moggies were less sophisticated, untrustworthy because of their mixture of genes. But as Casey is fond of saying, everything evolves. Even were-cats.”

“Interesting. He's probably right.”

“While in the past leadership was passed down generations of pures, Casey decided it was time for change. Everyone agreed, or at least most of us did. But it's very important that Casey rule nearly perfectly, because the pures are always waiting for him to mess up so they can replace him. Not all of us. I'm pure and I'm behind him all the way. I think there are four pures in our present group.”

“It sounds like a tough job.” Michelle heard a tiny meow from Madeline and ran to the bedroom to check on her. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Lara walked up behind her. “She's been having nightmares.”

“How do you know?

“She told Asia. Asia can communicate telepathically with animals, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. That's amazing. You're all making me jealous with all your power and keen hearing and eyesight and special abilities.”

They walked back to the living room and slumped into their same seats. “You're perfect the way you are. Don't hate on the were-cats,” Lara teased.

“Never. Thank you for sharing all this.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't before. But you understand, right?”

“I do. I think things happen when it's the right timing. If you'd told me years ago, I might have failed miserably to be a good friend.”

“I doubt it. You've always been open minded and able to appreciate that life is full of surprises.”

Silence fell again and Michelle tapped her fingers on the couch, contemplating. “Are there any other rules I should know about?”

“If there are, you'll find out. I'm really happy about you and Casey. He's a gem. You didn't know him in his younger years, though. A little more on the wild side, then.”

“There's a lot of that in him still. How old is he?”

Lara pursed her lips and slanted her head to her left, then her right. “He's thirty-five years old. I'm thirty-two.”

“I did some searches on lynxes and learned they don't typically live in colonies. They're loners. And this area is not your natural habitat. What's up with that?”

“Aren't you the smartypants?” Lara tossed a couch pillow and hit Michelle's head playfully. “All true. But as I said, everything evolves. Our colony has adapted to this area. There's no reason we have to live in the mountains. We're part human, just like you. We can live in a city or out in the forest. It's up to us, not instinct or survival.”

Michelle heard a noise in the backyard and flinched. “Did you hear that?”

“Of course. I have the keen hearing of a lynx, remember?” Lara walked with her to the kitchen window.

Peering through the darkness, Michelle smiled. She heard chuffing and saw a beige-white lynx sitting in the yard. “It's Tizzy.” She waved and the lynx nodded, then trotted off toward the bushes.

“The next shift arrives. Hopefully we'll do better than we did earlier.” She rolled her eyes. “Conrad is good. I don't know how he could have missed that man in your garage.”

“Sneaky, I guess. Which is different than stealthy, like Casey.”

Lara's laughter bubbled up out of her throat like a song. “Thanks for being here tonight,” Michelle said. “Please make yourself at home. I've got to make contact with some people about Cats Alive.”

It was still early evening, early enough to make calls and respond to emails. Several emails were simply reports from foster parents about the process of socializing the cats and kittens with them. One parent complained about the former owners of two cats, who had handed them over to Cats Alive because the cats were leaving too much hair on the furniture.

Exasperated, Michelle paced the kitchen floor on that one. She rehearsed giving the former owners a piece of her mind. How could they abandon the two cats when they'd been a part of the family for four years?
Ever heard of brushing?!
The foster parent said the cats were doing owner searching. It made Michelle's heart dip, imagining the furtive pacing and meowing as the cats waited for owners who would not come back for them.

She knew in time the cats would accept their new circumstances, but it still made her blood boil at the heartless treatment.
Why don't people understand that cats are not a piece of old luggage or a worn out lamp to toss away?

A big sigh and she was back in her seat, responding to the emails. One grabbed her attention instantly. An owner of a roamer asked for help finding her cat. By the look of the cat in the photo attached, it was light gray with dark stripes. “Aww, you're so cute.”

Michelle read on and learned that the cat was chipped and always returned home after spending some time outside. She made a call to the owner to get a description and summary of the cat's habits and personality.

“Her name is Graysan? You think she's about two years old and she's spayed. She's friendly? That will help. I've got your address, so I'll set some humane traps around your neighborhood and hope to catch her quickly.”

Before Michelle hung up, she gave her mini-lecture about allowing cats to roam. She tried to pound it home that cats who roam are more likely to die young, suffer with ticks and fleas, get hit by a car, or become diseased. “Once they become acclimated to a solely indoor life, they do much better. It's what responsible owners do.”

She heard Lara finish her shower and check on Madeline before walking into the kitchen.

“How is she?” Michelle asked, without turning away from her laptop. She was just finishing posting the missing Graysan on the Cats Alive website and sending the link to other cat rescues.

“She ate and used her litter box, so that's good.” She walked into the living room and looked through the on-screen TV guide, flipping rather quickly. “It's still early. Feel like a movie?”

“Sure. My head is spinning. A little vegging would be good. Nothing intense. I don't feel like crying or getting scared.”

“Coming up.” Lara selected the movie, a romantic comedy, and they sat back to enjoy.

Part way into the movie, Michelle turned her ear toward the backyard. A sound had drawn her attention, but as she waited, everything seemed quiet.

Lara stopped the movie and turned to her. “I hear something, too,” she whispered. “Are we just jumpy?”

Lara's eyes flew wide open. At the same moment, Michelle noticed a red dot floating on Lara's chest. “Get down!” she screamed, and dove for the floor herself. Michelle's four cats scrambled down the hall, out of sight.

Crashing from the back door sent Michelle's nerves almost over the edge. With no time to think or prepare, suddenly she faced men with guns pressing her to the ground, her face into the carpet. She saw boots and dark pants tucked into them. There were no words, only the sound of heavy breaths, as the two pairs of boots put plastic ties on her hands and feet. Trying to turn her head to see Lara, she got a boot pressing hard on her back. “Don't move.”

Lara screamed, but it muffled in the carpet and brought a punch to her head. Michelle fought the waves of fear that pounded her head and sent trembles through her arms and legs.

A voice muffled, she thought behind a mask but she couldn't see, spoke gruffly. “This is for you, blondie. We're not going to use the guns tonight. But you've been warned to leave this property. It doesn't belong to you anymore. Pack your things while you can and move out or we'll be back, and if that happens you won't be leaving with anything.”

The only thing Michelle could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Terror froze her body flat on the floor.

Lara! And Tizzy! She rolled up on her side and saw Lara was still unconscious. The men might still be around, but priority now was to get out of these zip ties and help Lara.

Thoughts of what she'd learned in the personal safety class she'd taken after the rape had surfaced through the panic that ripped through her when the “boots” first charged in. It was almost second nature, as the class had promised. Funny that boots hadn't noticed, but she'd clenched her fists and held them side by side while he pulled the zip tie tight. Now, she relaxed her muscles and turned her fists sideways and tugged her hands through the loop.

She sat up and used a fingernail to lift the locking bar from the ratchet mechanism on the tie binding her feet, and pulled the tie open.

Relief flooded her, but she wasn't done yet. She gently shook Lara. “Lara, wake up, sweetie. I'm going to get you out of the handcuffs.”

Lara moaned, lighting up Michelle's hopes. She checked her breathing and her pulse, so she knew Lara wasn't dead, but still, the sound she'd made was a good sign of life.

She made quick work of lifting the locking bar first on the tie around Lara's hands, then her feet. By then, Lara was rubbing her head and trying to sit up.

“Take it slow. You've been unconscious. I'll be right back. Just lie still.”

The back door stood open. It was a sight that chilled her blood, but she had to check on Tizzy. Cautiously, she stepped onto her porch, carrying her flashlight. It was a huge, metal one with a long, bright beam. Michelle stepped into the yard making a mental note to thank her dad a hundred times for impressing on her the importance of such a thing. It lit the yard and would serve as her backup weapon, if need be.

Clouds hid the moon and stars in the sky and Michelle felt the darkness on her skin like a cotton sheet. Even with her flashlight, out beyond the beam was the unknown. Her nerves urged her to run.

But there was nowhere to run to. No place where she could escape from William Carter's reach. Running and hiding was not the answer for her anymore.

She trudged to the hedge and slipped through to the field.
So far no men in sight
. But where was Tizzy?

She jogged through the field to places she'd seen Casey and Quinn in lynx form. No Tizzy.

Had she left when her shift ended and no one replaced her?

Her beam found Tizzy's car parked in a group of trees, barely visible. She rushed to it, running around the driver's side, and found a naked Tizzy slumped to the ground.

“Tizzy! Wake up!” Michelle checked for a heartbeat and found a faint one. She stood in the dark field, fear biting at her heels, trying to rouse Tizzy. There was no blood anywhere, so she'd probably been hit over the head. Thank God she wasn't shot.

She stood and peered back toward her house. The distance was too far to … do what? Drag her? Carry her?

Everything in her longed to call Casey. But he'd told her he'd be unavailable and to call Lara if something happened. Well, Lara needed her help, not the other way around. Ruefully, she slammed a palm to her forehead. “Think, Michelle. Think fast.”

She couldn't leave Tizzy lying on the ground. She wouldn't. The car keys dangled from the ignition. If she could get her in the car, she could get her back to her house.

She grabbed her shoulders and bit by bit, pulled her up into the back seat. Tizzy was slender and probably didn't weigh very much. But she was muscled. Michelle's back screamed in protest and her arms ached, but she got her completely in, slammed the door shut, and slipped behind the wheel.

Her foot shoved the gas pedal to the floor, and swiftly spun out the tires in the dew-wet grasses and dirt. Michelle pulled in three deep breaths, then slowly pressed again and this time moved through the rough field and onto the lane.

Sweat beaded above her lip. She kept intense focus on getting back to her house. Once there, she raced up the front porch steps and banged hard on the door, hoping Lara was doing better.

She kept banging until the door opened and a sleepy-eyed Lara stood in front of her.

“Where did you go? I—”

“I've got Tizzy in the back seat of her car. She's out. Is there any way you could help me get her inside?”

Lara rubbed her head and pointed behind Michelle. “We don't have to. Lynx physiology wins.”

Michelle jumped as a hand touched her shoulder and she saw a fully dressed Tizzy standing behind her, shivering.

Spontaneously, she wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. “Thank God! You're all right? Here, take my sweater. That tank top makes me shiver.” She led the others back inside and shoved them each in to chairs. “Lynx physiology?”