“She’s a consultant with the Jacksonville Zoo. According to one of their veterinarians, she’s very good at handling situations like this.”
It seemed she’d called and spoken to Hugh.
“In that case, we’d be glad to have you.”
As I followed the policeman to his cruiser I told myself Kai wouldn’t be mad. Surely, I couldn’t be faulted for leaving the safety of the police station if I was with the cops, right?
With that flimsy excuse firmly in mind, I slid into the passenger seat of the police cruiser and headed to apprehend the spunky simian. Fifteen minutes later we stopped near a small crowd of people who were blocking an intersection in—if I’d gotten my bearings—Uptown New Orleans.
“The monkey just slipped past the trap,” a woman said as we approached the group. “I could’ve sworn we had him.”
“It was like he knew right where to go,” the man with her confirmed.
“He got away?” Marisa asked, her tone disbelieving and more than a little frustrated.
I looked in the direction the man motioned and focused on getting a bead on the monkey. It took some doing because of the weird, intermittent flickering of his brain waves, but I managed to zero in on them.
“There,” I said, and pointed to the canopy of a huge live oak tree.
“You see him?” Officer Green asked, squinting at the tree.
“Yep.” That wasn’t 100 percent true. I couldn’t really see the monkey. But I could detect his brain waves with my ability and home in on their source. It’s really closer to hearing than to seeing, but in that moment, I figured it was better to skip those details and keep it simple.
Rather than try to pinpoint the animal’s exact location, I walked slowly forward. It was something I’d done before. Ninety percent of the time only a few people would notice or follow. Humans were not very observant animals. Unlike elephants, who almost always pay close attention to what you’re doing. Such busybodies.
In this instance the only people who followed were the cop and the woman who’d told us about the monkey’s narrow escape.
“I don’t see him,” the woman said in a low voice.
I paused to press my fingers to my lips, then whispered, “I only saw him for a second. He’s in the tree. Maybe we can try to circle around and drive him toward the trap.” I didn’t really know what the trap was but I wanted to get close to the monkey and do so on my own.
“Okay, yeah. We’ll flank him,” the cop said. It was clear from the way he was gazing at the tree that he hadn’t spotted his quarry.
“Good,” I said. “You guys head around the tree. I’ll stay here and keep an eye out for him.”
“If you spot him again,” Officer Green said, “give us a signal.”
I nodded and waited for the two to move off before closing my eyes and focusing on the little monkey in the tree.
When our thoughts connected, I discovered the little guy was pretty calm for a critter who had just escaped capture.
Hey, buddy, come on down.
I extended the invitation with the idea of safety and friendship.
There was a rustle in the canopy and the capuchin came into view. He tilted his head and regarded me from on high, then leapt to a lower branch.
That’s it. Come see me.
With his long limbs and prehensile tail, he made it to the lowest branch in seconds. After a series of curious squeaks, the little monkey stopped half a dozen feet from where I stood.
I lifted my hand slowly and extended my arm.
Here you go—
Before I could prompt him to hop onto my arm, a series of images fluttered into my mind’s eye. For the second time in as many days I was taken completely off guard with what I saw.
CHAPTER 5
Me. The monkey showed me an image of myself holding a small paper tray of beignets.
Just as it had when he’d shown me Logan and Veronica, the scene lasted only a couple of seconds and, like before, the colors of the image were reversed at first then shifted back to normal. This time, most of what I was seeing was in muted duotone. The exception being the object the monkey was sitting on. It was glittering purple and looked like part of a Mardi Gras float. I saw myself step toward the float. Smiling, I held up the beignets.
I didn’t get it. He wanted me to bring him beignets? It would be easy enough. I’ll gladly trade you a couple of pastries for info on Veronica.
The image winked out the instant I thought of the missing woman. It was like the monkey’s mind had gone blank. Then, suddenly I was hit with a surge of absolute, bone-numbing fear so strong I flinched away with a gasp.
What the . . . ? Before I could pinpoint what had caused the flood of emotion, the monkey’s gaze settled on mine and the fear faded to confusion, then something close to frustration.
Struggling to get a grip on my own racing pulse, I pulled in a slow breath and said, “It’s going to be okay, buddy.” I focused on sending him reassurance and reiterated my desire to help.
Not buddy, the monkey told me. Cornelius.
I couldn’t help but smile. It’s nice to meet you, Cornelius. I’m Grace. If you come with me, you won’t have to be scared—okay? I offered my arm as a perch. Cornelius studied my outstretched hand, considering, then eased forward.
“Come on.” I gently murmured words and added calm encouragement with my thoughts.
The little monkey’s eyes darted about, reminding me so powerfully of Barry’s shifty gaze I couldn’t help but think of him and his long coat. I tried to push the thought away before my feelings for the creepy man transferred to Cornelius, but failed. The monkey started, leapt to a higher branch, and bounded up the tree. In seconds, he’d scampered out of sight and out of range of my other senses.
“Dang,” a voice from behind me said. “You almost had him.”
I cursed inwardly and shook my head. Stupid rookie mistake. I could’ve kicked myself for losing focus.
“Yeah, that was really close,” the zookeeper added as she came to stand next to me.
I glanced at the young woman. “Close only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades.”
“Still, he was responding to you like he hasn’t to anyone else. How long are you going to be in town?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you mind if I call the next time we get a good lead?”
“Of course not,” I said as we walked back to where the cruiser was parked. “My phone is working now so you can reach me at the number on my card.”
“Thanks for trying to help,” Marisa said. Her smooth brow wrinkled into a frown as she scanned the nearby treetops. “It’s supposed to freeze tomorrow night. I really hope we can catch him before then.”
“Me, too.”
I climbed into the police cruiser and was so lost in thought as we rode along I didn’t realize Officer Green had been talking to me.
“I’m sorry—what?”
“I think your phone is ringing.”
“Oh.” I fished it out of my jacket pocket and saw I had a missed call from Emma. I quickly called her back.
“Hey,” my sister said. “We’re pulling into the one-way cluster suck known as the French Quarter.”
“Right.” I looked out the window and tried to decipher how far away I was.
“You’re still at the police station, aren’t you?”
“Not exactly, but I’ll be there soon.”
I looked at Officer Green for confirmation. He nodded and said, “Five minutes.”
“Who was that?”
“I got a ride from a nice policeman after helping them find, and then lose, the Mystery Monkey.”
“The what?”
“Long story. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay. Kai mapped the location of the police station on Royal Street. We’ll meet yo
u there.”
“On second thought,” I said. “How about meeting up at a parking lot?” I fished through the messenger bag to find the pass Belinda had given me and relayed the address to my sister.
“You want me to drop you on Dauphine?” Officer Green asked when I hung up.
I shook my head. “I have a bike a couple of blocks away from the station. Thanks, though.”
He dropped me off at the corner of Royal and Iberville, and I hopped on my borrowed bicycle and headed to meet my friends.
There’d been no sign of Barry or Anya skulking about the Monteleone, but I kept a watchful eye out anyway as I rode.
I even circled the block before stopping at the parking lot. It was a countersurveillance trick I’d picked up not long ago. For a moment, I wondered if I should be worried about the fact that I’d gleaned such knowledge, but shook off the thought.
Knowledge is power, right?
After leaning the bike against a light post, I found a patch of pale afternoon sunshine and settled in to wait.
Turning my face to the sun, I closed my eyes and let the warmth wash over my skin.
Even without looking, I knew the moment my crew arrived. How? Easy—the familiar rumble of Bluebell’s massive engine preceded her through the gates of the lot.
A 1975 Skyline Blue Suburban, Bluebell was big, loud, and—in that moment—a sight for sore eyes.
I know—it had only been a day and a half, but what can I say? Bell and I are close.
Hugh was behind the wheel. Kai, riding shotgun, was the first to climb out of Bluebell.
I watched him stretch and allowed myself a moment to admire the lean lines of his body before walking toward him.
Kai smiled when he saw me and, like always, I felt a tremor of warmth slide to my core. But this time, it didn’t freak me out. Well, not as much as it used to, anyway.
“Surprise,” Kai said as I approached. His smile widened to a toe-curling grin.
“Yeah.” I grinned back, as tongue-tied as a teenager. There was something about the combo of his perpetually tanned skin, dark hair, and green eyes that always got to me.
I was spared having to come up with something to say because Moss chose that moment to burst out of Bluebell.
Using Emma’s lap as a launching pad, he rocketed toward me in a blur of white fur. My dog vibrated with energy and excitement and oddly, something close to surprise.
I got the vague impression that Emma, or maybe Kai, had told him he was on the way to see me, but Moss hadn’t really bought it until he’d gotten close enough to sense my presence.
I dropped to one knee and braced myself for my dog’s greeting.
Moss is no dainty canine. He’s over a hundred pounds of muscle and white fur and stands almost as tall as a Great Dane. Being greeted by Moss without proper precautions could result in bodily injury and more than a little dog slobber.
Grace!
“Hi, big guy.”
Grace—here!
“Yes, I’m here—ack!” As I spoke, I got a serving of wet dog kisses right on the mouth.
In the wild, pack mates greet one another with a lot of tail wagging and muzzle licking. For the most part, I’ve managed to convince Moss the licking isn’t necessary, but on occasion he gets carried away.
It seemed today I was in for a face full of dog spit.
Okay, enough. I missed you, too.
I was grateful for the ability to communicate with my dog telepathically because, in that moment, I didn’t dare open my mouth to talk.
As my sister and Hugh climbed out of Bluebell, I wiped my face clean, gave Moss a final pat to his flank, and stood to face the rest of the group.
I suddenly felt something else—a distinctly feline brain. One I knew.
Voodoo?
“Meow!” My three-month-old kitten, who was still tiny, leapt from Hugh’s arms and bounced toward me. Her miniature leash flapped behind her like a kite tail.
The kitten would never be a big cat—sizewise, anyway. Personality was a different story. Voodoo routinely bossed around a wolf-dog, plus every human she came into contact with. The instant her fur brushed over my legs, I felt a ripple of pure satisfaction zip through me. Looking up at me with huge golden eyes, the kitten squeaked out a meow.
Up?
I was moving to lift her off the ground before she’d completed the request—that’s how cute she is.
I took a moment to snuggle the kitten. Her cashmere-soft fur tickled my nose as she rubbed her face against mine.
“I can’t believe you rode all the way from Jacksonville with both of them,” I said to the group as I got to my feet.
“Well, it wasn’t the plan,” Emma said drily. “That little one managed to stow away in one of my bags.”
“She’s lucky she didn’t get crushed when we loaded them in the back,” Hugh said with a wink.
Without cracking a smile I turned to Emma and asked, “Did they have to use a forklift?”
“All we needed”—Hugh lifted up his arm to flex his biceps—“was man power. Right, Kai?”
“That,” Kai said, “and taking a few things out of Bluebell.”
I followed the men to the back of the Suburban and I felt my eyes widen as Kai opened the back.
Typically, Bluebell’s cargo area was stocked with animal carriers, a medical kit, a change of clothes, and other random supplies.
I could see my first aid kit, but it was buried under a pile of luggage.
“Don’t worry,” Kai said. “Everything’s safe in my garage.”
He’d read my expression correctly—I was worried, just not for the reason he’d assumed.
“What about my Glock?”
He frowned. “I didn’t see your gun.”
“I keep it locked in the box with my tranquilizer equipment.”
“Then it’s in the garage, too.”
“Um, do you have yours?”
Kai carried his service weapon for work. I hoped he’d decided to bring it on the road.
“No. Do I need it?”
“Probably not.”
“Does this have something to do with why we can’t go to the Monteleone?” my sister asked.
“Come on,” I said, handing the parking pass to Hugh to hang from the rearview mirror. “I’m staying at a bed-and-breakfast a couple blocks away. We’ll talk there.”
With everyone grabbing as many bags as they could carry we managed to haul the luggage, and my bike, in one trip.
I opened the gate to the small courtyard, then the side door into the kitchen.
“Let’s head upstairs,” I said.
“Don’t we need to check in?” my sister asked.
“I’m pretty sure Belinda, our hostess, has rooms open. So, no.”
“You’re sure? She might have other reservations.”
“She doesn’t. It’s kind of complicated,” I said.
“So far,” Emma said, “the only explanation you’ve given us about what’s going on is that it’s long and complicated. When are we going to find out the whole story?”
“I, for one,” Kai said, “vote to hear it sooner rather than later.”
Elvis bounded into the room, spun in a few quick circles, and let out a yip.
Little helper!
I smiled at the dog. “Hey, Elvis.”
The King!
“Everyone, this is Elvis.”
“Please tell me there’s a Priscilla around here somewhere,” Emma said.
I did a mental scan for the second Pomeranian. “Coming down the stairs, right now.”
“Perfect,” my sister said with a grin.
Priscilla pranced through the doorway a moment later and made a beeline for Moss.
Friends? Moss wanted to know as he sniffed the tawny puff-ball.
/> Friends! Priscilla flopped onto her back, tail wagging like mad.
“Yes, we’re all friends,” I said to the dogs.
Not that they needed my help understanding that. Elvis spun in a happy circle, barked, then ran to Moss. With a growl the little dog jumped up to nip at my dog’s chin.
Play!
“Hang on.” I handed Voodoo, who was watching the dogs and ready to join the fun, to Kai, and scooped Elvis away from his new friend.
“Moss won’t hurt him, will he?” Emma asked.
“Nope. But I need this.” I felt for and found the note pinned to his harness.
Good job, buddy, I told him.
Little helper!
I detached the note and set Elvis on the floor. Free to play, he zipped over to Moss and Priscilla to incite a game of chase. Which, given the size differences, consisted of the two Poms running around and through Moss’s legs while he tried to catch them.
Play! Voodoo squirmed in Kai’s arms.
“You can put her down,” I told him.
When he did, the kitten trotted to the dogs, crouched low, and waited for the opportunity to pounce on one of her new toys.
“Now that we’ve got that settled.” I sighed and unfolded the note. “Let’s see what Belinda has to say. ‘Second floor is vacant. Make yourselves at home. There’s food in the fridge and a dumbwaiter next to the washer for the luggage.’ Okay,” I said, looking around at the group. “Let’s get y’all to your rooms.”
We used the mini-elevator to haul Emma’s stuff up to the second floor and Elvis dutifully detached himself from his game to lead us up the stairs and show us to the empty rooms. Once everyone had deposited their things in the correct place, we assembled in the hall.
“All right, spill,” Emma said. “How did Belinda know we were coming if you didn’t tell her?”
“Belinda just knows things.” Everyone waited for me to elaborate. I tried again. “We came in through the courtyard, but did you notice the sign for psychic readings in the window? That’s her.”
I’ll say this for my crew—none of them seemed overly surprised to learn I’d met up with another psychic.
“You think she’s legit?” Emma asked as we started down the stairs.
Take the Monkey and Run Page 7
