Tiburon entered and knelt before her. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Trying to convince that odious little racist…” She paused seeing Tiburon shake his head. He stood and lifted the chair Belding had sat upon. He pointed to a small electrical component attached to the bottom of the seat frame. She nodded in understanding. Belding had planted a microphone to catch them in their lie. She tried to complete her sentence, but she had lost her words “That …”
Tiburon spoke up. “That a beautiful, rich, white woman, with everything going for her, could possibly consider marrying a black flesh-eater from the jungle?”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t let them touch you with their hateful racism. You are the most magnificent man I have ever known.”
Tiburon pulled her into his arms, breathing in the sweet fragrance of her hair. “Your hair always smells like honeysuckle. Why is that?”
“It’s probably my shampoo. Does it bother you?”
“No,” he almost purred in reply. “I like it very much, as I like all things about you.”
He picked her up and placed her on the bed. “You should rest until the priest comes.”
“Tiburon, Belding said he had heard you paid someone to marry you. He checked my account for the money,” she whispered.
“I heard him,” Tiburon replied, not attempting to lower his voice. “I was at the door listening. I heard everything he said.”
“Don’t let his words hurt you.”
Tiburon laughed. “I’m not so soft skinned as that. Believe me, with teeth such as these, you grow a thick shell about you. His words cannot touch me. You, on the other hand, even the smallest whisper lands directly here.” He pressed his fist to his chest. “You defended me so honorably. I was most touched.”
“I meant every word,” she whispered.
Tiburon stared at her in surprise, then touched her lips with his fingers. “I have to pick up the priest and Schuler. I’ll be back in an hour. Try to rest until then.”
Without even a kiss, he turned and left her.
Catina banged herself on her head and leaned back in the bed. Idiot, she scolded herself. Why did you tell him it was all true? You probably scared the shit out of him. He only wants entry into the States. Once he’s there, he’ll be gone. Out of your life forever.
Catina rolled to her side and pulled her knees up against her chest. The idea of losing him made her entire body ache. In one small week, he had somehow managed to become the most important person in her life.
She shook her head. What was she thinking? He was just a nice man who saved her life.
But he was much more than that. He was the man in her dreams, and more than anything else in the world, she craved more of those dreams.
Chapter 6
The wedding ceremony was brief and without incident. Tiburon surprised her with a beautiful onyx and pearl wedding ring. “It is like us, black and white coexisting in beautiful harmony.”
“It’s perfect,” she whispered, admiring the pearl that appeared to float in the black pool of onyx.
After a brief celebration with Schuler and a nurse as witnesses, Tiburon abruptly sent everyone away. “Catina needs her rest for tomorrow’s flight.”
Catina watched him as he closed and locked the door to her hospital room. He stared at the chair with some concern and then walked to the bed. Catina could sense the uncertainty in his movements. Was he afraid she would refuse him and give their game away to those listening through the device attached to the chair?
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you tired?”
She pulled his mouth to hers in reply.
He responded and then pushed away. “You’ll get no sleep that way.”
She laughed softly. “I’m not sleepy.”
He ran his hand across her silky hair. “Rest. Tomorrow will be a hard day. You will not sail through customs with me at your side. I promise you, you’ll want your rest.”
“That’s not what I want now.” She hated herself for begging.
He studied her face for a moment and pulled her to him. “Ah Catina, you are a constant surprise to me. As much as I would like to stay the night, it is not possible. Tomorrow, we will be in America. Can you not wait one day, after waiting a lifetime?”
Catina scowled. He used the words she had said to Belding against her. “Fine. Hand me my gown so I can change.”
He did as she instructed. When she removed her blouse, he turned away.
“You don’t have to turn away.”
Tiburon laughed. “You must think me a cold man indeed if you believe I can feast my eyes on your most beautiful body and hold my resolve to leave you untouched for the night.”
“I would not think the worse of you for breaking that resolve.” She laid the skirt and blouse on the chair and slid into the bed.
Hearing the sheets rustle he turned to face her. He noticed that the gown lay beside her clothes on the chair. His eyebrows rose in response.
“I’m really not in the least bit sleepy.” She reached for a glass of water. Her movement caused the sheet to drop to her waist revealing her milky white breasts.
Tiburon sighed and reached for his bag. Sitting beside her on the bed, he shook out a couple of pills and placed them in her hand.
“What are these?”
“A mild sedative. They will help you sleep. I am very serious. You will need all your strength to make it through tomorrow.”
Catina sighed and popped them in her mouth. “Will you stay and talk to me until I fall asleep?”
“Of course. What would you like to talk about?”
“Tell me a story.”
“What kind of story?”
“I don’t know. In America, we tell our children bedtime stories to help them relax and fall off to sleep. Do Africans have stories like that?”
Tiburon smiled and brushed her hair from her face. “Most African children are so weary from their day’s work they fall asleep without the need of stories. However, I remember a story told by the old chief of our tribe about how we came to be. Would you like to hear that one?”
“Very much.”
“There once was a mighty warrior who traveled all his life looking for a home. One day he spotted a race of warriors that looked much like himself. His heart filled with joy. He had spent a lifetime alone and he yearned for a mate. Locating the largest and most beautiful female in the tribe, he patiently waited until one night she wandered from the others. Without hesitation, he leapt down from his perch in a tree and joined her.
“He attempted to introduce himself, but the beautiful female was mute and dumb. She could only snarl and roar in response to his queries. His disappointment was extreme. She looked perfect in form. She fought and hunted with a natural grace and power. Yet, when he looked into her eyes, there was nothing more than animal cunning. No wisdom, no humor, no ability to love. He thought she was some freak of nature whom the tribe should have killed at birth. He went in search of the others of her tribe to determine why they allowed such a depravity to exist. Yet, when he came upon the others, they were the same—nothing more than cunning animals.
“That was a terrible night for the mighty warrior. Never had he felt such desolation. Yet, even as their existence pained him, he remained with the mindless tribe. He had nowhere else to go.
“The warrior kept his tribe safe and secure. They would mostly feed on the abundant monkey population in the jungle. The warrior found himself impressed with the intelligence of the nimble little creatures. They could run circles around most of his tribe. He especially enjoyed the hairless apes that walked upright. These primates showed signs of reasoning and appeared to have developed a semi-complex language base. They also tasted quite sweet.
“The warrior developed a fondness for the hairless apes, both as an amusement and as food. He would spend days watching them lay traps for his tribe. Listening to their chatter, he eventually deciphered their language and practiced their language with his gruf
f tongue until he could speak as well as any of their kind. He willed his body to take their shape, so he could move among them when they would travel through the jungle at night looking for the great black panther. It amused him to no end that he was in essence, hunting for himself.
“Within the ape’s tribe, stories were told about a large black hunter who followed them into the forest on their hunts. This mysterious hunter was different from the tribesmen: stronger, taller, faster and smarter.
“The chief had disregarded the stories until the night the giant warrior entered the village and announced he would now be their chief. The chief only had a few moments to object before the warrior’s hand ripped into his chest and pulled out his still pumping heart. The old chief died watching the warrior eat his heart.
“Under the guidance of the new warrior chief, the tribe abandoned their crops and animals and became great and deadly warriors. Having never forgotten his taste for human flesh, the warrior would often lead his tribe against other tribes, feasting for months afterwards on the dead and captured. And that was how the tribe came to be known as the Flesh-eaters.”
Tiburon studied Catina’s face. The sedative had done its job. She looked like an angel in her sleep. He leaned in and smelled her hair. From the very first, the fresh sweetness of her hair had captivated him. He smiled, pleased at how fate had played her into his hands.
Chapter 7
Catina awoke in the morning to find Tiburon sitting on the same spot of her bed.
“You didn’t stay there all night, did you?”
He laughed. “No. After you fell asleep listening to my intriguing story, I went home and rested as well. How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” she muttered.
“Something wrong?”
“I don’t want to take anymore sleeping pills. They keep me from dreaming. And I particularly like my dreams these days.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “You can dream all you want after we get to America.”
***
The journey was as grueling as Tiburon predicted. Their progress came to an abrupt halt when they arrived in Los Angeles. Security and customs searched their bags with great thoroughness. Several officials questioned her, all unable or unwilling to believe she would marry Tiburon for love. By the time the officials released them, they had missed their connection to San Francisco.
“Not to worry. I anticipated such a delay and had a second reservation set up on the next flight,” Tiburon whispered in her ear as he massaged her neck. “How are you holding up?”
“I didn’t know a person could be this tired.”
“Hang in there. You can sleep in the plane.”
***
Jason Connors watched them from behind a security glass. “He’s certainly a big fellow.” Jason glanced down at the documents in his hand. “Says he’s a doctor. Have you checked his credentials?”
“Yeah. That part’s legit. I called the American Consulate in Nairobi. He really is a doctor. However, they think the marriage is a sham.”
“Reason?”
“He’s applied for a Visa twelve times and last month he evidently contracted a marriage to an American for twenty thousand.”
“Well shit, why didn’t they arrest them?”
“This isn’t the woman he paid to marry him. This woman is rich. She doesn’t need twenty thousand.”
“Blackmail?”
“Doesn’t sound like it. The consulate bugged her hospital room, and she seems sincere in her desire to ‘hump a black man’.”
“Cole…” Jason’s voice dropped a full scale.
“Not my words. That was a quote from the consulate.”
“Then say it with ‘I quote’ in front of it, because I sure as hell don’t want to be explaining why one of my FBI agents sounds like a racist.”
He studied the couple for a few minutes. “Why did the embassy refuse his Visa requests?”
“Undesirable tribe.”
“What does that mean?”
Cole smiled. “I thought it was a pretty stupid response myself, so I asked this pencil-pushing racist whether they suspected the tribe of communist ties.”
Jason shook his head. “I’m sure he appreciated your sarcasm.”
“Actually, he thought I was serious and replied, ‘No it’s worse than that.’ So, I ask what could be worse than a communist? Guess what he replied.”
Jason watched the couple. They seemed quite enchanted with one another. For the fortieth time in the evening, he wondered why he had been called into what appeared to be nothing at all. “I’ve no idea, what?”
“Cannibals. His tribesmen are cannibals.”
Jason looked at Cole in surprise. “For real?”
“That’s what the racist says. They’re called Flesh-eaters and live in the dense central jungle. Notice his pointy little teeth. They file them down when they are just babes.”
“I bet they wait until the baby teeth fall out.” Jason looked at the giant man again. “So, our good doctor is a cannibal? Does the new misses know?”
“Evidently. Maybe she likes to live dangerously, bored of white men with flat teeth.”
“Can it, Cole,” Jason warned. “How does a guy become a doctor if he’s a cannibal?”
“Probably eats the spare parts he removes.” Noticing Jason’s scowl, he added, “Actually, a missionary doctor rescued him from the tribe when he was a young boy and enrolled him into medical school. He’s spent most of his life traveling to remote villages. Works for the Red Cross at the moment.”
“What do they say about him?”
“They seem very pleased with his work. Once the tribes realize he isn’t going to eat their children, he works out pretty well.” Cole held up his hands at Jason’s glare. “That wasn’t a joke. That’s what they said.”
“What’s Immigration’s stand on this?”
“They think the marriage is bogus, but they are willing to turn it over to us.”
“We’ll need their cooperation.”
“No problem. They’re being surprisingly cooperative.”
Jason looked at Cole. “Why is that, do you think? Since we’ve gotten here, everybody has been bending over backwards to help us. No interference. No turf-pissing contests. Fresh coffee and an assortment of sandwiches to munch on as we observe the couple waiting for their flight. I feel like I’ve died and gone to FBI heaven.”
“It is eerie,” Cole agreed.
“Yeah, especially since I don’t even know why we are here.”
An old man stepped from behind a screen placed in the corner. “That’s because you haven’t dug deep enough.”
“Who the hell are you?” Jason snapped, relaxing his gun hand as he assessed the man to be no threat.
“I am the reason you were called. I am the reason why you are being provided total cooperation.” The old man walked to the window and stared out at the couple. “That lovely woman is in terrible danger.”
“From what?”
The old man cackled. “Excellent choice of words. Not ‘whom,’ but ‘what.’” He pointed to the picture of the man. “Ever seen hair like this before?”
Jason studied the long silky strands of hair whipping about the man’s face. “Can’t say I have.”
“It isn’t human hair. They got it from their father,”
“Their father. Are we talking about someone else besides Dr. Tiburon?” Jason asked.
“There was another child. However, that isn’t your problem. He’s your problem. If you get a chance to look at those teeth, do so. They aren’t filed. That’s another genetic oddity inherited from his father.”
“You seem to know a lot about this man. May I ask how?”
The old man turned. “You tell me. And if you don’t know by Monday afternoon, I’ll have you replaced. Who I am should be the easiest problem you have to solve. Discovering the truth about Tiburon will test your skills.” Without another word, the man shuffled out of the room.
Cole frowned.
“Want me to put a tail on him?”
“Don’t bother. Just find out the name of the missionary who rescued Tiburon as a boy and then get me a complete workup on the man by Monday morning.”
“What’s up with the missionary?”
“Cole, use your brain on occasion. The old man discussed genetic similarities between Tiburon and the chief of this obscure tribe located in the middle of the jungle. Besides the missionary doctor, what other white man has probably seen the tribe?”
Cole blushed. “I’ll get on it right away. What are we doing about them?” He nodded to the couple.
“Did we get the warrant signed to tap her house?”
“Full electronic surveillance. Anything we want.”
“Damn,” Jason whispered. He had major mob suspects for which he couldn’t get a full surveillance warrant. There was never sufficient evidence to justify such invasion into a private citizen’s house. “What’s our budget?”
“Unlimited.”
Jason stared at Cole and then the couple outside. “Get me that file on the good doctor first thing Monday morning. Put Agent Ginkabo on it and tell her to dig as deep as possible. I’m working in the dark here, and I don’t like it at all.”
Chapter 8
Tiburon carried his sleeping bride from the limo to the front door. The house was not as large as he expected, given her wealth, but hopefully, she kept servants who would answer the door. He rang the doorbell several times and waited. His nostrils flared at the musky smell of wild cats. He could hear the rumbling of a cat somewhere behind and to the right of the house. Getting no response from ringing the door, he gently woke Catina.
She resisted waking, shifting her head so it rested on his shoulder. “Where are we?”
“Hopefully, at your home. Do you have a key to the door? No one seems to be answering.”
She yawned and opened her eyes. “If Milo went out, he would put a key under the pot.”
Tiburon laughed and settled her on her feet. “Well, that’s original. I take it there’s not much crime in the area.”
Cat Refuge Page 3
