When the Tiger Kills: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller: Book One

by Vanessa Prelatte

  “What does she look like?”

  “Who? Renea?”

  At Brody's nod, Maeve said, “I'd forgotten that you've never actually seen her.” Clearing her throat, Maeve continued slowly, “She has red hair and green eyes. She's quite beautiful, actually.”

  “I don't care how beautiful she is – she could never hold a candle to you. Nobody can. And Sloan Lewellen is a fool.”

  Maeve took Brody's hand and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it and replying gently, “Don't think that I don't appreciate your championing me, Brody, but as I told you when it all happened originally, Renea wasn't the only problem between Sloan and me. And Sloan never so much as went out on a date with her until I filed for divorce.”

  “You filed for divorce?”

  “Yes. I had been away for months, setting up my business in New Orleans. Sloan came down to visit me one weekend and we had a big fight about it. He ended up giving me an ultimatum: either I return with him to Colorado, or he would file for a legal separation. When I refused to go back with him, that's just what he did. I was so angry that I countered by filing for divorce. So, you see, it's not all Sloan's fault.”

  Unwilling to let Sloan off the hook that easily, Brody responded, “I don't know about that. He should have tried to work things out with you. Instead, he started seeing someone else. You never did that.”

  Maeve shrugged. “No, but there were other issues between us – private issues that I have no intention of discussing – so don't be so quick to judge Sloan. It takes two to make a marriage, Brody. Sometimes it takes two to make a divorce as well. Which is not to say that I wasn't hurt and shocked when Sloan married Renea so quickly after the divorce. I cut off all communication with him for months. If Ty hadn't had that accident not long after it all happened, we might never have started speaking to each other again. It was only then that we decided we had to try to get along with each other – for Ty's sake. The last thing he needed was for his parents to be sniping at one another over his hospital bed. And then when he was kidnapped... but I don't want to think about that. Suffice it to say that by the time Sloan realized he'd made a mistake and divorced Renea, I was ready to try to be friends again, at least.”

  “Still, the fact that he and Renea had a baby together...”

  Maeve held up a hand, and Brody's voice trailed off. “Sloan has full custody, and the baby doesn't remind me of Renea at all. In fact, the first time I saw a picture of Echo, I was struck by her resemblance to Sloan's mother, Veronique. She was a lovely person. I like to think that Echo will grow up to be just like her. So trust me when I say that interacting with Echo is not at all painful for me, Brody.”

  Echo pulled the teething ring out of her mouth just then and threw it across the room.

  “Wow, what an arm, kid!” Picking up the ball they had been playing with earlier and twirling it on his finger, Brody said, “Ready for another game?”

  *****

  After he'd met with the lieutenant, briefed his team, and spoken with the police in New Jersey, Rafe was just about to get back to work on the real estate angle when his cell phone rang. Since the caller ID showed that Naomi Preisinger was trying to reach him, Rafe picked up the call. “Mrs. Preisinger? This is Sergeant Melbourne. How's Will doing?”

  “That's what I'm calling about, Sergeant! Will just regained consciousness. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible.”

  “I'm on my way.” Grabbing his jacket, Rafe told Sokoto, who was acting as his second-in-command on the team, where he was going. Then he raced out the door.

  Rafe caught a brief glimpse of Carl Brassner and Maya Shilltoe in the waiting area, but he didn't stop to talk to them. A harried-looking nurse was exiting Will's room as Rafe walked toward it. When he entered the room, he discovered Naomi Preisinger engaged in a heated conversation with her son.

  “Will, you were downright rude to that nurse. And you can't refuse your medication!”

  “I know my rights! They can't give me drugs without my consent, and I am refusing my consent! I don't want any more of that shit until after I've talked to the cops; it makes me all dopey and confused.”

  “But Will...” A look of relief crossed Naomi Preisinger's face as she caught sight of Rafe. “Sergeant Melbourne. Thank God.” Turning back to her son, she said, “Will, this is Sergeant Melbourne, from the police. He's the one in charge of your case.”

  Will looked Rafe over with eyes that were pain-filled, but shrewd and alert. He said to his mother, “Mom, I love you, but I need you to leave now, just for a few minutes. I need to talk to the Sergeant alone.”

  After Naomi had left, Will said, “The first thing I asked when I woke up was 'Where's Lee?' And you know what my mom said? She said that Lee's fine. She claimed that Lee has been here the whole time, but she left just a little while ago to go home and get some rest. And you know what? Mom's lying. I can always tell. So before I answer any of your questions, I want an answer, and I want the truth. Where's Lee? Is she dead?”

  Rafe made sure he looked the young man right in the eye as he replied, “We don't know where Lee is, Will. She's missing. We're looking for her, and as far as we know, she's still alive.”

  Will closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he said, “Go ahead and ask me your questions. I'll tell you everything I can.”

  After Will had filled Rafe in on his confrontation with the man who called himself Michael, Rafe said, “Okay, Will. Now, I have some pictures here that I'd like you to look at. Tell me if any of them looks like the guy.”

  Will went through the pictures quickly; then he pointed to the one of Vaughn Makella. “That's him. His hair is shorter in this picture, and it's a different color, but that's Michael.”

  As Rafe put the pictures away, Will asked, “Do you know him? Do you know where he took Lee?”

  Rafe answered carefully, “We think we know his real name. And we're following up some leads that we hope will lead us to the place where he could be holding Lee.”

  “You think she's dead, don't you?”

  “I won't lie to you, Will. When someone is the victim of an abduction by a stranger, if we don't get them back within the first twenty-four hours, the chances for survival diminish significantly. However, there are some elements in this case that have led us to believe that Lee still has a chance.”

  “I should have protected her better. I should never have let her go near that creep.”

  “It's not your fault, Will. From what you said, the guy seemed harmless. Only a mind reader could have guessed that the beer was drugged. And despite being drugged, you fought back, you survived. In fact, if you hadn't let the park ranger who found you know what had happened, we wouldn't have known even to start looking for Lee.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Naomi Preisinger entered hard upon it. “Time's up. I want you to take your medication now, Will Preisinger. And I don't want any lip about it.”

  “He told me about Lee, Mom. You shouldn't have lied to me.”

  “No, I shouldn't have. All I was thinking was that you were in enough pain already, and I wanted to spare you any additional grief.” Tears sprang into her eyes as she said contritely, “I'm sorry. I won't lie to you again.”

  *****

  Nerves were stretched so tight in the offices of Aemilian Consulting that Ty thought something was bound to snap at any minute. Dawn was restless, her foot beating an endless rhythm on the floor as she concentrated intensely on the screen of her computer, all the while downing cup after cup of coffee in an effort to keep herself sharp and alert. Lotti was working at a computer on the other side of the room, tapping a pencil nervously on the surface of her workstation with one hand while using the other to scroll through the endless data she was reviewing on the screen. Even Sloan, usually impervious to nerves, kept running his hand through his hair, which Ty knew he did only on the rare occasions he was suffering from some sort of anxiety.

  “Dawn? I think I might have something.”

&nb
sp; Springing out of her chair so quickly that it went flying across the room, Dawn sped over to Lotti's workstation. Ty's cousin was pointing to a particular name on the screen: Valhalla-Buonarroti Industries. “Isn't Valhalla the name of the home of the gods in Norse mythology?”

  Excitement was coursing through Dawn's veins like quicksilver. “Yes. This has got to be it! I have to call Rafe.” She started to reach for her cell phone, but Sloan shook his head and put his hand on her arm, arresting the movement.

  “Dawn, wait. You don't want to ruin your career by betraying that you are working the case after officially withdrawing from it.”

  She turned on him furiously. “Take your hand off my arm! I'm calling Rafe, and I don't give a damn if anyone finds out that this information came from me. We have to get moving on this now!”

  “Agreed, but there's a better way. Let me make the call. I'll be the concerned father-in-law, just checking to see if there's any news. Rafe is smart enough to make sure that no one on his end of the conversation gets wind of the fact that I communicated this piece of information to him at the same time.”

  It took Dawn only seconds to think it over. “Okay. We'll do it your way.”

  *****

  When Rafe returned to headquarters, he was surprised to find that the bullpen was nearly deserted. Hearing noises from the break room, he strolled over and glanced inside. Almost the whole unit was inside, watching the television grimly. To his dismay, he realized that the newscaster was talking about the case, and had somehow gathered more details than had been approved for release. He'd caught just the tail end of the segment, however, so when it was over, he asked, “How much did they reveal, Sok?”

  “Just about everything,” Sokoto replied disgustedly. “Lee's name, the fact that she's been abducted, the possibility that she might be Marina Cimarron – shit, they even knew that Will was out of the coma and was being interviewed by the police. How the hell did they find out, Sarge? I'll swear it didn't come from any of us.”

  Rafe had his suspicions, and Wesley Collander figured prominently in them as a suspect, but he merely said, “How's the lieutenant handling it?”

  “She's scheduled a press conference in an hour. Says she's going to try to do damage control, but good luck with that.”

  “Well, we can't do anything about it now. Anything else develop while I was at the hospital?”

  “We heard back from Sergeant Chernet in Michigan. Katelyn Norti found the portrait that Vaughn Makella painted of her sister Tamara. It's signed Michael, and there's a little angel flying over the signature.”

  Rafe nodded. “Michelangelo. It's all starting to come together.” He briefed Sokoto on his interview with Will Preisinger. Then he said thoughtfully, “We know who the son-of-a-bitch is. But where is he? What...” He broke off as his phone signaled an incoming call. After looking at the caller ID, he said, “It's Sloan Lewellen. Probably wants to know what the hell is going on. I'll have to take this, Sok.”

  Sokoto nodded absently and wandered over to where Prentiss and Noritaki were working on the real estate angle. He heard Rafe greet Sloan and give him the usual bullshit about working the case, pursuing all available leads, etc. Not even with someone as powerful and influential as Sloan Lewellen could they discuss the details of an ongoing case – even one that affected him so personally.

  After Rafe disconnected the call, he walked over to where the three of them were gathered and said, “Look, we've already figured that he'd want some place off the beaten track. And from the information that our anonymous caller gave us, the whole thing started when he was lost on a camping trip in the mountains when he was a kid. That's when he started hallucinating and obsessing about that goddess person – Vanadis. Maybe he feels closer to her, more connected to her, when he's in parkland or wilderness areas, somewhere in or near the mountains.” Pulling up a map on the computer, he studied it for a moment and then said, “He wouldn't want to be too far from civilization, so let's concentrate on rural areas that are within an hour of the spot he liked to hang out in – the shopping district where the coffee shop and the sporting goods store are located. That gives us four areas to search: Yellow Ridge, Mount Eyrie, Kerner's Knob, and Traynor's Fork.” Looking around, he said, “Prentiss, you take Yellow Ridge; Noritaki – Mount Eyrie. Sokoto, you look at Kerner's Knob, and I'll take Traynor's Fork.”

  Rafe decided to wait about five minutes, just so it wouldn't look too suspicious. Then he said, “Wait a minute... I might have found something.” As Sokoto looked over his shoulder, Rafe tapped the computer screen. “It's a house located on a few acres in Traynor’s Fork. It's owned by a company called Valhalla-Buonarroti Industries. Isn't the name Valhalla connected somehow with Norse Mythology?”

  “Yeah. That's where the gods lived – Thor and Odin and the rest of them. Let me look up Buonarroti.” Sokoto punched the information in on his computer. “Bingo! Here's the Michelangelo connection. The artist's full name was Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni. You find anything else on this company?”

  “I'm checking... whoa, here we go: Valhalla-Buonarroti Industries is a subsidiary of Baldr Enterprises, which is a limited liability corporation whose sole member is one Vaughn Makella.” Rafe pushed back his chair. “I have to update the lieutenant, get her to push Judge Portentia for a warrant. In the meantime, call and see if either of our helicopters is available, Sok. We need to get out to Traynor's Fork as quickly as possible.”

  But Sokoto was shaking his head. “No good, Rafe. There was a big pile-up on the Interstate about an hour ago. From what I've heard, more than a dozen vehicles were involved, and there are multiple injuries. Both helicopters were called out to the scene.”

  “Okay – then call the Civil Air Patrol, Sok. Given the circumstances, I'll bet that they can put a helicopter at our disposal within minutes. We'll take a team and fly out there. That way, as soon as the lieutenant notifies us that the warrant has come through, we'll be on the spot, ready and waiting.”

  *****

  Dawn paced the floor impatiently. “It's been almost fifteen minutes since you gave Rafe the information about the house in Traynor's Fork, Sloan.”

  “I'd tell you to be patient, Dawn, but I think you'd just haul off and hit me.”

  Dawn sat down at one of the desks. “You're probably right.” She looked hopefully over at Ty as his cell phone rang. After a monosyllabic conversation, Ty disconnected.

  “That was Sokoto. The Civil Air Patrol has been asked to provide transportation for an upcoming operation by the Mountpelier Police. I've had Jack and my search and rescue team waiting on standby with our fastest helicopter. They can be there in eight minutes.”

  “I'm not sitting here and waiting. Maybe I can't be part of Rafe's team, but I need to be there.”

  “I figured that, so I've got another helicopter ready and waiting on top of the Lewellen Building. It will take us about six minutes to get over there, board, and be ready to follow when we see Rafe and his team take off. I've been checking out the topography, and there's an open spot not far from the house where I can set down. We'll be close enough to observe, but not so close that we'll be in the way of the operation.”

  “I'm going with you.”

  Ty turned at the sound of Brody's voice and lifted an eyebrow. “You gonna be able to keep up on those crutches?”

  “Even on crutches, I'll leave you behind in the dust, hot shot.”

  Ty shrugged. “It's fine with me, as long as Dawn's okay with it.”

  “At this point, I don't care if Lucifer himself wants to go along with us. Let's move!”

  Ty had parked his car directly in front of the building, so the three of them jumped in. Ty floored the gas pedal and sped toward the Lewellen Building with a fine disregard for the posted speed limits.

  On the way there, Dawn asked Brody curiously, “What brought you upstairs at just the crucial moment?”

  “Lotti came downstairs to check on Echo. When I asked her what was going on upstair
s, she said that you might have just had a big break, so I decided to go up and check it out.”

  That was all the time they had for conversation before the car pulled up in front of the Lewellen Building.

  As Ty reached down to open his door, Brody picked up the bag sitting beside him on the back seat of the car. Tossing it to Ty, he said, “Take that for me. It might come in handy.” Ty hooked it over his arm and caught up with Dawn, who was already racing toward the doors of the building. Brody followed close behind them.

  Sloan must have called ahead and cleared the way for them, for one of his employees was waiting for them at the front door. With a brief greeting to Ty, he led the way to one of the elevators and entered the code to open it. As the door opened with a soft hiss, the three of them scrambled inside, where Ty hit the button for the roof, sending the elevator smoothly upwards. When it stopped, the trio raced to the waiting helicopter, Dawn noticing with a corner of her mind that Brody hadn't been kidding when he said that he would be able to keep up. He maneuvered himself on his crutches faster than many uninjured people she knew could have managed on two good legs. Within minutes they had boarded, and Ty took off in pursuit of the other helicopter, which had just lifted off from police headquarters and was heading in the direction of Traynor's Fork.

  Chapter 12

  Gasping and shaking with fury, Michael tried to pry Lee's hands loose and unwind the chain from around his neck. Lee fought to hold on, amazed at his strength. She hadn't expected him to react so quickly; she'd counted on him being so shocked that he would be still for a second or two so that she could implement the second part of her plan. She'd stuck one of his smaller paint brushes into her hair, thinking that she could hold the chain with one hand, grab the brush with the other, and wind it into the chain, using it to tighten the improvised garrote enough to incapacitate her adversary. But she hadn't been granted that second or two of grace. She needed both hands to hold on and repel Michael's efforts to get loose.