“I think my sign warning ‘trespassers will be eaten’ scares them off.”
Tiburon held up a key. “Here we go.” He turned the lock and opened the door. The limo driver brought up the last of the bags.
“Shall I help you bring these in, sir?”
“If you will. Just bring them in the entrance.” Tiburon lifted Catina into his arms. “Before you fall back to sleep, perhaps you should tell me where your bedroom is,” he whispered and kissed her lips.
She muttered, “Upstairs, end of hall.” Then she drifted off.
Finding her room, he laid her down upon the bed and returned downstairs to tip the driver and lock up. He picked up several of the cases and returned upstairs. He placed both against the wall before returning to her side. With gentle reverence, he undressed her and tucked her into bed. He watched her sleep for several minutes before he returned downstairs for the remaining luggage.
His hearing could detect the high pitch whine of the electronic surveillance equipment. He was certain it wasn’t Catina’s. People who place keys under pots were rarely serious about security. His eyes scanned the entrance hall and located an infrared camera on the bookcase. He entered the library on the left of the hall. Mic squeals emanated from the fireplace grating and the desk. Without the high pitch noise of the surveillance equipment, the room would have been pleasant. The golden oak beams across the ceiling gave substance and character to the room. The big leather recliner looked well used. He could easily imagine Catina spending cold nights curled in that chair, reading a book by a warm fire.
A sense of foreboding caused a shiver to run through his body. The connection between them was too strong. He never meant to let it get out of hand like this. He had never meant to love her.
He shook the feeling of dread and entered the living room. The room was proof she had never relinquished her middle-class upbringing. The chairs and couch were all unfashionably comfortable and inviting. Again, the squeals of mics echoed from a potted plant and the coffee table. Additionally, a camera poised over the entertainment center.
The kitchen was small and unexceptional. He suspected it would be the least used room in Catina’s house. She did not appear to be much of a food person. However, a large freezer occupied much of the porch connected to the kitchen. Inside he found a bounty of frozen raw meat. No doubt for her cats. He breathed in the air, wondering how many she currently had. He could catch the scents of six, maybe seven…
Upstairs he located Milo’s room. It was colorful and haphazard. She had told him Milo was a gay friend who had lived with her for the last ten years.
He could hear the squeal of mics from Milo’s room. Besides the master bedroom, there were two additional guest rooms. It would be safer to sleep in one of them, but he expected an early morning roust from Immigrations. They would need to find him beside his bride.
He reentered her room and emptied his suitcase into the dresser, placing the case on top of the dresser in front of the camera lens. He then returned downstairs to wait for Milo.
Milo came home around one a.m. Tiburon opened the door to find Milo searching the pot for his key.
“Wha…?” Milo exclaimed as he stumbled backwards at the sight of Tiburon.
“I’m Tiburon, Catina’s husband.”
“Of course,” Milo stammered. “I’m Milo, Cat’s friend.”
“I took the key in, so I waited up for your return.”
Milo laughed. “You can leave it out. Nobody comes up here. Scared of the cats.”
“Just the same, I’d prefer we not keep it there.”
Milo was now in the house and could see Tiburon a little better. “My God! She’s gone and married a giant cat.”
“Pardon?”
Milo giggled. “Forgive me. I have a very bad habit of blurting out what I think. But for a moment you looked just like a giant panther. And it struck me as so predictable that Cat would marry a cat.”
“Perhaps we should get to know each other in the morning, when you’re sober.”
Milo laughed. “Oh, I like you already. Just what we need around here: someone who’ll take charge. Well, you’ll get no argument from me. Direct to bed I go.”
Tiburon watched the man climb the stairs and then he locked up and turned off the lights.
He stepped out onto the porch and breathed deeply. He caught the faint odor of a human to his right. So, they were watching the house as well. He sighed. He had hoped that his entrance into the States would not gain such attention, but he was not surprised it had. Dr. Taylor would spare no effort to protect his bounty.
Tiburon lifted the small backpack he had taken from his luggage and stepped into the trees behind the house. Moments later, a giant panther, swift and silent proceeded down the mountain, with the backpack firmly clinched in its jaws.
He made excellent time down the mountain, leaping the ravines in single relaxed bounds. As he continued down, civilization became more prevalent. He stopped behind a 7- Eleven dumpster, resumed his man form and dressed in the clothes he had carried in the backpack. He listened for the bus and moved to the stop a few moments before its arrival. He could sense the driver’s fear to open the bus doors. With his teeth, smiling would do no good, so he simply waited for the driver to calm and do his job. An eternity later, the bus door folded to the side and Tiburon entered. He nodded to the driver and moved to the back of the bus. As the bus carried him through the city, he scanned for his sister. When he sensed the driver was becoming overly nervous by his continued presence, he exited the bus and found a new bus line to ride. He spent the entire night in this manner, checking off areas on his map. At five in the morning, he had still found nothing. Knowing Immigrations would probably institute a raid around six a.m., he returned to the house in his panther form.
Without the high pierced screeching of the mics, the house would have been silent and peaceful. He made his way up the stairs and into her room like an invisible shadow of the dark. He lowered the backpack to the floor and went to her. Her scent gave him such pleasure. Gently he tugged the blanket from her body and pressed his muzzle against her skin. A slight moan escaped from her throat. With a single motion, he leapt beside her on the bed and licked her face and neck.
Chapter 9
Jason Connors followed the raiding Immigration squad into the house. He hated being associated with this, but he wanted to see the situation first hand. There was something far more serious than a sham marriage going on.
When they kicked open the door of the bedroom, they came upon the couple sleeping. Tiburon’s arms protectively encircled his bride. As the men filed in screaming “immigrations” he sat up, shifting her so his body would shield her from harm, should anyone actually use the guns they carried.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Catina demanded from behind Tiburon. Both fear and anger resonated in her voice.
Jason stepped forward. “It’s all right, Ms. Nelson. No one is going to harm you or your husband.” Turning to the squad leader, he asked, “Are your men done here?”
The squad leader knew an order from a question and nodded, silently motioning his men from the room.
Jason resumed his focus on the couple. “I sincerely apologize for the fright this might have given you, Ms. Nelson. We had rather strong evidence to believe your marriage with Dr. Tiburon was a sham. One of the easiest ways to prove that is making surprise house calls.”
“This can’t be legal.” Catina pulled the sheet tighter against her naked body.
“Yes ma’am, it is. The United States government takes immigration crimes very seriously.” His eyes narrowed as he watched Tiburon. “You smile at that statement, sir. Do you find it humorous?”
“I find it amazing you can say it with a straight face. You and I both know this is not about breaking some immigration law.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. He wanted to pursue that point but dared not in a room so electronically wired. God knew who else besides himself would receive copies of the recordi
ngs.
Jason ignored Tiburon’s comment and looked at Catina. “I’ll give you a moment to get dressed, then I’d appreciate seeing both of you downstairs.”
Just then a high wailing scream erupted from down the hall. “Cat! Cat! Where are you?” A man wearing a flowery robe burst into the room. “Cat, there are army men everywhere! Are you all right?”
Wrapping the sheet around her, she moved off the bed and went to her distressed friend. He wrapped his arms around her. “Thank God. For a moment, I thought they had come to kill you.”
“We are from the Immigrations department, we don’t kill people.”
“Then why the guns?” asked Tiburon.
Jason glared at him. “For the protection of our men. People who buy their way into the country often have desperate reasons to do so.”
His response set Milo into an excited fury. “Well, why the hell are you here? We are American citizens!”
“And you are?” Jason said to Milo.
“Milo Nivens. I’m an old friend of Cat’s.”
“You live here?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“A long time…I don’t know. Ten years?”
Jason raised his eyebrow. “And your relationship with Ms. Nelson?”
“She is my dearest and oldest friend. We have known each other since grade school.”
“How dear of friends?”
Tiburon walked up behind his wife and placed his arm affectionately around her shoulder. “You are going down a dead end, Officer…I didn’t get your name.”
“Connors. And how do you know where I’m going?”
Tiburon shrugged and looked at Milo. “He wants to know if you are having intimate relations with Catina.”
Milo choked. “Heavens! Is that what you think? No, no, it’s not like that at all.” He glanced nervously at Tiburon. “I’m gay. Cat and I are just friends.”
Tiburon sighed. “Perhaps you can interrogate your witness outside so my wife can get dressed.”
Jason was about to argue but realized that the request was perfectly reasonable. He looked at the woman. A night’s sleep had done wonders for her looks, she was utterly breathtaking standing in the morning sun with the pale blue sheet wrapped tight against her body. “I’ll wait outside in the garden for you, Ms. Nelson.”
She nodded, but just as he was about to leave the room, she said, “Don’t wander too far from the house, Mr. Connors. This is a wild cat reserve and some of them are quite timid. I wouldn’t want you to frighten them.” Then panic crossed her face. “Your men, with the guns, they wouldn’t….”
Connors held up his hand. “They are downstairs waiting for orders. I’ll send them away now.”
Catina smiled. “Thank you.”
Her smile was so sweet it made Jason’s heart ache. If not for the menacing tower beside her, he would have returned that smile and more. Yes, she was definitely a beautiful woman.
***
When the door closed, Tiburon put his finger to his lips and pointed to the chair.
The realization they had bugged her house stunned Cat to her core. What had she gotten herself into with this marriage? Storm troopers through her house, surveillance equipment in her bedroom…
She looked up at Tiburon and all the grief ceased to matter. As long as he remained with her, she could endure anything. She wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing strength from the steel of his muscles. Nothing mattered but Tiburon and her dreams.
***
Catina spotted Connors near the lion’s cage. Her anger flared. She had specifically asked him not to go near the cats! She quickened her pace, but Tiburon pulled her back.
“Easy girl. Yelling at an FBI agent is never a good idea.”
“FBI? He said he was Immigrations.”
“He said they were Immigration. He never identified himself.”
“How do you know he’s FBI?”
“By watching him. The FBI are terribly precise in their actions. When I asked him for his name, he automatically reached for his ID, but then stopped. He is a man of very strict habits: shoes well-polished, pants creased, hair trimmed weekly. Did you see the way he scanned the room when he entered? I’m certain he could recreate your room down to the smallest eyebrow pencil. Even now, see how he observes us. He wants to come here and interrupt our conversation, but it’s more important he gets us in an electronic free area to have his discussion.”
“I don’t understand. What is going on here?”
Tiburon stroked her head and held her to him. “I’m not certain that even Mr. Connors knows what’s going on.” He pulled her face up and stared into her eyes. “You trust me, don’t you?”
She nodded, but her eyes betrayed her fear and concern.
“I won’t let them harm you, Catina. I promise you. Now let’s go see what Mr. Connors wants to say to us in private.”
“Does that mean someone has heard every word we just said?”
“No. We are standing in a dead zone. But Mr. Connors didn’t know that.”
Catina stared at him. “How do you know that?”
“My hearing is superior to yours. I can hear a high pierce squeal from electronic transmissions. That is why I knew the hospital and your house had been bugged.”
“My whole house?”
“Yes, and there’s an infrared camera in the hall. There’s also one in the bedroom, but I felt compelled to place our suitcases on top of the dresser and block its view.”
“This is absurd! I am an American citizen. They have no right to do this! Don’t they have to have warrants to do things like this?”
“Yes. And I’m sure with the straight-laced Mr. Connors in charge that it is all perfectly legal. He doesn’t look like the type to bend the rules.”
“But how could they get them? Don’t they require just cause?”
“I suspect that’s what’s bothering Mr. Connors. Something certainly is. See how his hands clench? He’s not a happy man. Shall we go to him before he breaks the pen he’s holding?”
Connors glared at Tiburon as they approached him. “Get your story straight?”
“Pardon?” Catina replied.
“Your story. Did you have sufficient time to get all the facts down?”
Tiburon smiled, giving Connors a close-up view of his sharp piercing teeth. “Mr. Connors believes we were manufacturing our alibis. Actually, Mr. Connors, we were talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Catina cut in, her voice still angry. “I had specifically asked you not to frighten my cats, only to find you camped right beside Sheba.”
“Sheba?”
“The lioness behind you,” Tiburon said.
Jason swung around and stared into the foliage. Knowing what he sought, he finally saw a patch of tawny skin and two huge brown eyes staring at him. “Jesus! Has that thing been there all along?”
“Please don’t raise your voice. She’s very timid.”
He studied the wire mesh that stood between him and the lion. “Is this cage secure enough to handle a cat her size?”
“Are you now aligning yourself with animal control?” Tiburon asked. “You change affiliations faster than most women change clothes.”
Jason looked at Tiburon. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My husband believes you are with the FBI. Is that true?”
“Why does your husband think that?”
“Is it true, Mr. Connors?”
“That’s rather a paranoid question. Have you done something to make you paranoid of the FBI, Ms. Nelson?”
“You’re evading my question. I’m rather certain that you are required to identify yourself if you work for the FBI.”
“Do you think undercover agents identify themselves?”
Tiburon laughed. “You are working undercover as an immigrations officer? Really, Mr. Connors!”
Jason glared at the man. He still didn’t know who Tiburon was, but he was growing to di
slike him.
Catina’s voice snapped. “Mr. Connors, are you with the FBI? Yes or no?”
“I am currently assigned to the Immigrations Department.”
“But do you work for the FBI?”
“I am currently assigned to the Immigrations Department.”
Catina sighed. “May I see your credentials?”
“Pardon?”
“Your credentials. May I see your badge?”
Jason patted his jacket. “Can you believe I’ve forgotten them?”
“You burst into a private citizen’s home and forget your credentials. I doubt that very seriously,” Catina replied. “I want to see the search warrant and your credentials right now.”
Jason reached in his pocket and handed her his badge. “Your husband is correct. The question is how did he know that? Doesn’t it concern you, Ms. Nelson, that the man you married receives so much attention?”
Catina studied the badge and handed it to Tiburon. “It concerns me very much, Mr. Connors. I would appreciate it if you would tell me why.”
“I can’t divulge that information at this time.”
“Why?”
“You and I both know it’s bullshit. Mr. Connors. The Immigration Department doesn’t care about me anymore than the FBI does. The man running the show is Taylor.”
Jason frowned. Was everyone in on this game except him? “What makes you think that?”
“Because I read people pretty well. You have integrity. I bet when I have you investigated, I’ll find your history as pristine as snow.”
“What does my service record have to do with anything?”
“Because if you really knew what was going on, we wouldn’t be on opposite sides.”
Jason locked eyes with Tiburon. Had he allowed the sharpened teeth and dark skin to distract him from the man’s high intelligence? “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on then?”
“Have you researched Dr. Taylor yet?”
“Who’s Dr. Taylor?”
“The master of your puppet strings.”
“Nobody’s pulling my strings, Mr. Tiburon.” Jason hoped that was true.
Tiburon smiled. “We all like to think that. We all like to believe we are masters of our fate. However, usually it isn’t true. Somewhere, a person exists, sometimes completely unknown to you, whose slightest action impacts your life. Be careful with Dr. Taylor. He is a very influential man. If he believes you are on to him, he will destroy you in a moment’s notice.”
Cat Refuge Page 4
