Cat Scratch Fever

by Sophie Mouette

  ‘It’s not your job to play Superman,’ Tom said.

  Gabe rubbed a hand over his face, surprised to feel his palm rasp across more than a five-o’clock shadow. Had he shaved that morning? He couldn’t even remember. Oh well. Women liked a roguish stubble, didn’t they?

  ‘I care about this place, too, Tom,’ he admitted. ‘Even if it’s not going to make it, it needs to be protected from vandals. I don’t want anything happening to the cats or to innocent staff members.’

  Was Felicia part of that latter group? The question invaded his mind, not for the first time. She’d been secretive, evasive. Maybe it was just stress, or maybe it was just that he was considered The Enemy and she wasn’t going to admit problems with the Sanctuary unless she was forced to.

  He might find out the answer tonight.

  ‘Don’t get hurt,’ Tom said. ‘And don’t get arrested.’

  ‘You’ll bail me out if I do, though.’

  The vet clinic door opened, so Gabe ended the call, promising to call Tom again if anything major happened.

  Now, all he had to do was find a way to get back in the facility after he made it obvious that he was leaving.

  * * *

  Katherine took them all out to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant where they often met after work for margaritas and chips and salsa. It made Felicia feel a little guilty for not telling her boss about their plan to stay on site, but she still felt it was for the best. If something went wrong, the blame wouldn’t fall on Katherine.

  ‘You’ve all been working so hard, such long hours,’ Katherine said, forestalling their protests at her paying for everything. ‘Overtime, coming in on your days off and today was really above and beyond the call of duty. I wanted to thank you all for that.’

  The restaurant was crowded, unsurprising for a Saturday night. They were seated at a table in a far corner of the patio. Felicia realised they probably all reeked of sewer filth, even though they’d washed up before leaving the Sanctuary. Oh well, at least they were all in it together, so to speak.

  Felicia sat as far away from Gabe as possible, not trusting her body’s reaction if she sat next to him or across from him, with the possibility of their thighs brushing together again, of their hands bumping when they both reached to scoop salsa with a warm tortilla chip. But with only six of them, including John from maintenance, ‘far away’ just meant they were at opposite corners of a small rectangular table, and she was still keenly aware of his presence.

  He asked Katherine some probing questions about how people might be sneaking into the facility, whether more security might be needed, or at least a change in the way the area was patrolled – and what was that exactly? His questions seemed constructive, but they put Felicia on edge. What did he really want? And, worse, could he be responsible for the latest crises plaguing the Sanctuary?

  Magnolia had escaped from her cage the night before Gabe had shown up on site (but he would have flown in the day before, so he was already in the area), and the rest of the vandalism and strange occurrences had happened since. He’d admitted to the temptation of causing problems at facilities that he couldn’t substantively prove should be shut down.

  She didn’t want to believe he was involved. But she couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion prompted by his questions. Anybody she didn’t know well loomed as a suspect in her mind.

  ‘I really need a shower,’ Gabe said as they wandered out to the parking lot, pleasantly full and tired after a day of hard work and an evening of burritos and tacos. ‘I’ll see you all tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll drop you off so you can pick up your car,’ José said to Mel, a plausible excuse because they had driven to the restaurant together.

  Felicia offered to deliver the take-out they’d ordered for Alan, who’d obviously stayed on site. Katherine didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, and Felicia sighed with relief as she watched her boss’s car’s tail lights grow smaller in her rear-view mirror.

  The Sanctuary was quiet and mostly dark when she got there. Only Alan’s truck was in the parking lot. The plan was that José and Mel would enter via the service entrance in the back, leaving their cars a few blocks away.

  Felicia slipped inside, resetting the alarm for the front door and windows of the administrative building, and ducked into the ladies’ room. She’d worn black jeans, and now she changed from her grubby T-shirt into a black long-sleeved knit top. She braided her hair back, relieved that the foul smell was no longer near her face.

  Speaking of which…She reviewed herself in the mirror. Her pale face was going to bob around like a disembodied ghostly head when she got outside. She had camo makeup somewhere in her apartment, bought on sale after Halloween and used once during sex games with a former boyfriend who had a minor Navy SEAL fetish. She’d decided against going home and getting the makeup now, though. If something did go horribly wrong and the police showed up, she’d look even guiltier with her face smeared with olive green and tan paint, looking like a terrorist.

  She sighed. Her muscles ached and she was exhausted. What she wouldn’t give to go home and soak in a long, hot, jasmine-scented bath. Gabe’s comment about a shower had really killed her and not just because a shower sounded like the most amazingly wonderful thing in the world right now.

  But no. They had vandals to catch, and a Sanctuary to save. Super sleuths didn’t have the luxury of long, hot, jasmine-scented baths (or long, lovingly detailed erotic fantasies) until the Bad Guys were behind bars.

  ‘Here I come, to save the day,’ she sang under her breath, and headed into the night.

  She delivered Alan’s supper to him. The security guard had just done a complete circle of the area and found nothing amiss.

  ‘The cats are restless,’ she said unnecessarily, for he’d just been outside himself. ‘Something’s upsetting them.’

  Pancho Villa, the oft-vocal panther, had started the noise, a low growl that you could feel in your bones, occasionally punctuated by a louder roar that made your teeth rattle. Pancho’s sounds were echoed by Brutus and Estella. It truly was a heart-stopping noise, especially at night when there was less of a sense that a sturdy enclosure separated you from the stunningly beautiful, but no less powerful and dangerous, panthers.

  Then, Felicia had passed by the cheetah enclosure and Caramel had been pacing. That itself wasn’t unusual. What was disturbing was when the cat stopped pacing and stared past Felicia with a frightening intensity she usually reserved for small crawling children who might turn out to be a tasty snack if only they would come just a little closer, oh please oh please. Felicia had looked over her shoulder, but hadn’t seen anything. Caramel had excellent eyesight, so all it meant was that she was seeing something Felicia couldn’t.

  ‘They know when something’s not right,’ he said, unwrapping the foil from one end of the burrito. ‘I don’t think anyone’s out there – at least, not yet – but they know things haven’t been right for a while.’

  ‘I meant to ask you,’ Felicia said. ‘What happened to the wire cutters you found?’

  He swallowed his mouthful of tortilla, beef, rice and beans, and said, ‘I gave ’em to a buddy of mine to dust for prints. He owed me a favour, and didn’t ask any questions. Don’t know how soon we’ll hear back, though.’

  ‘You rock, Alan,’ she said, and stood. ‘I have to check in with the others. You’ll be back on patrol soon?’

  He glanced at the clock. ‘Inside of fifteen,’ he said.

  * * *

  Gabe turned off his rental car headlights, and coasted slowly into the Sanctuary’s parking lot. A lone street-lamp by the entrance walkway dimly illuminated two cars in the lot. He recognised the Cabriolet as Felicia’s; the truck probably belonged to Alan.

  He drove out of the lot and parked around the corner within sight of the parking lot exit, and waited. After about half an hour, he was convinced Felicia wasn’t coming back out. There were any number of things she could be doing in there. And he was going to find out
just what she was up to.

  He left the car and hiked around to the back side of the facility. One of his tasks here had been to evaluate the security system, and he knew the service entrance wasn’t alarmed, because too many deliveries were made after hours. Besides, if someone wanted to steal something, they were more likely to try and break in through the front, where the computers and cash register were, rather than deal with the hassles of getting through the loading dock.

  Despite the lack of alarm, the service door was solid metal and heavily locked.

  He paused, listening. He heard some of the big cats grumbling. He sympathised; he could feel the tension in the air, too.

  He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew several long thin metal rods. There were times when his chequered past came in handy.

  The lock was a tough one, but he was a patient man. His large hands were surprisingly nimble – something more than one satisfied bed partner had commented on.

  Finally, he felt the tumblers shift deep inside the lock. He eased the door open and slipped inside. The room was dark, and he turned on a penlight, holding it between his teeth while he ensured the door was firmly locked behind him.

  He took a quick survey of the cavernous, warehouse-like room. Cement floors, metal walls. Metal roll-up door for large deliveries, locked firmly in place. Van for transporting big cats or bulky supplies. A couple of transport cages, broken down flat for storage. Metal shelving along one wall, half-full of boxes.

  His footsteps echoed as he crossed the area and slipped into the attached storage room. From there he exited on to the Sanctuary grounds, turning off his flashlight. The storage-room door came out near a long building that ran along the back of a row of cages. You could go inside that building and access each cage, via a door into the cage itself. From the reinforced door that went into the long building hung an industrial padlock. He grasped it and pulled. Solidly locked. Good.

  Just to be on the safe side, he was going to check every damn last one of them.

  * * *

  ‘See anything out of the ordinary?’ José asked. They’d agreed to meet in the vet clinic at hourly intervals to check in with each other, and it was time.

  Felicia shrugged. ‘Nothing much. The cats are cranky, though.’

  ‘They’re not used to so many people here after – what was that?’

  It had sounded like a clank, and then something or someone moving.

  ‘Maybe it was Alan.’ Mel didn’t sound convinced. ‘But I don’t think so.’

  ‘Mel, you stay here and be the point person,’ José said, grabbing a Maglite. Felicia pulled her own flashlight out of her pocket. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he asked. ‘You should stay here, too.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, and don’t treat me like some simpering weakling,’ she said. ‘This was my idea, and I’m not going to be any help if I hide in here.’

  He muttered under his breath in his native tongue.

  ‘Yes, I’m stubborn, but I’m offended by that last part,’ Felicia said, smirking as his jaw dropped and his dark skin flushed. In fluent Spanish, she told him not to be a chauvinistic pig.

  Ignoring Felicia, José gave Mel a quick kiss, then reached for the door.

  ‘Oh, fine, she gets a kiss, and all I get is an insult,’ Felicia muttered, not really angry.

  A small hand grabbed her forearm and tugged. She turned. Mel stood on tiptoes and planted a big wet one on her lips. ‘Better?’ Mel asked, fighting off a grin.

  ‘Definitely,’ Felicia said.

  ‘Lock the door behind us,’ José said.

  Outside was a curious mix of silence and noise. They were far enough outside of town that they didn’t catch the usual traffic noises; but the restless cats were drowning out the normal subtle desert noises, such as the scurry of small animals as they bedded down for the night.

  It was a typical clear desert night, the stars shimmering in the clear air. Predictably, the temperature had dropped when the sun disappeared, and Felicia was glad she’d worn a long-sleeved shirt.

  Felicia leant in close to José. He smelt of cat and antiseptic and sewer. Not exactly an erotic combination, although being near him still sent a sexual shiver through her. She still wasn’t satisfied, dammit, despite the recent boost to her sex life. Sex with José and Mel had been full of orgasmic fun, but…

  Dear lord, were Gabe’s pheromones throwing her off whack? It would be just her luck that she’d be responding to the one man who stood to ruin her livelihood.

  Her mouth a hair’s breadth away from José’s ear, Felicia whispered, ‘You take the tiger enclosure; I’ll loop past the main building and head towards the fishing cats.’

  He nodded and moved away, blending into the darkness.

  Felicia held the flashlight loosely in her hand. She kept it turned off, but ready to flick on at a moment’s notice if she came upon anything suspicious. She knew the Sanctuary well enough to get around by the dim light of the three-quarter moon.

  Something moved in the new plants, rustling the leaves, and her heart leapt. Cautiously, she directed her flashlight in that direction, suddenly aware of how feeble and ineffectual the beam of light seemed.

  She smothered the laugh that threatened to burble forth out of the misplaced nervousness. One of the Sanctuary’s three peacocks glared at her from the underbrush. After giving her one last haughty look, it stalked away, its sweeping tail trailing behind it.

  She continued along, turning on the flashlight every so often to check for signs that someone had been there. Their primary goal was to catch the perpetrator(s) in the act, although scaring them away for good was a fine secondary goal.

  She just prayed they did find out who was responsible, and that that person didn’t turn out to be Gabe.

  * * *

  Lance huddled against the wall behind the cougar enclosure. He drew his hoodie farther over his head. Shit, it was cold. He’d declined going out to dinner with everyone, saying he had to get home. He’d helped Alan out with some last-minute clean-up of shovels and buckets, and then told him he was leaving just as the security guard was headed to the bathroom for his evening constitutional. Alan had said he’d lock up after Lance left.

  Lance had simply unlocked the door, then circled back around and hidden in the narrow space between the main building and the supply shed until darkness fell.

  He was still wearing the low-rider long jean shorts that had made a lot of sense when he was working out in the hot sun all day. Now, his bare legs pimpled with gooseflesh.

  He hated sitting around. He hated waiting.

  If Just and Dog didn’t show up, he was going to kill them.

  * * *

  Gabe saw light streaming from the vet clinic window. Cautiously, he peered inside, expecting to see José. To his surprise, the petite Asian animal handler, Mel, was pacing the room, tapping her fingers on the metal examining table as she went by it.

  He waited, feeling uncomfortably like a Peeping Tom, but José didn’t emerge from the back room or the small bathroom. He frowned. If José had left Mel in charge of the newborn cubs for the whole night, he was in serious breach of protocol.

  It was possible José was checking on the cubs himself, though, and Mel was hanging around for another reason. And of course she was probably the most knowledgeable person to leave in charge of the cubs if José had to step away for a short while. Gabe eased away from the window and continued his own surreptitious circuit of the Sanctuary.

  * * *

  Felicia crept behind the row of cages that housed the North American cats. Her stomach clenched and churned. Maybe Mexican food with a side order of nerves hadn’t been the best choice.

  A noise. She froze, heart in her throat. This one wasn’t random – it was rhythmic. Someone walking.

  She made a low noise like a night hawk, the pre-arranged signal.

  No response.

  Damn. She slid her flashlight on, masking the beam with her palm. Then, in on
e move, she turned the corner and started to raise the light. But before she could bring it all the way up, she slammed – hard – into someone.

  A hand clapped over her mouth before she could draw the breath to scream. An arm wrapped around her, pinning her own arms to her sides, and her flashlight fell, thudding into the dirt beside the pathway.

  Before full terror took hold, she saw her attacker’s face in the moon’s dim glow. It was Gabe.

  She didn’t know whether to be relieved or distraught. He shouldn’t be here. But at least he wasn’t a mad axe murderer.

  She relaxed, just slightly, but enough that he took his hand from her mouth (and it was a good thing he did, too, because otherwise she would have bitten him), but he didn’t let her go.

  ‘Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack!’ he growled.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  ‘I could ask you the same thing. Development coordinators’ job descriptions don’t include skulking.’

  ‘You’d be surprised at the lengths we have to go to,’ Felicia muttered.

  He didn’t respond and, in the space of a heartbeat that pulsed deep in her groin, she realised why. She was pressed full-length against him: breasts to chest, thighs to thighs…and soft belly to hard cock.

  ‘Fuck,’ he said.

  She was entirely prepared to say ‘OK’ when his mouth came down on hers.

  11

  ‘Lance, my man! Wasn’t sure you’d be here.’ Just clapped Lance on the shoulder.

  ‘How’d you get in?’ Lance asked. ‘This place is usually locked up tighter than a drum.’ He knew, because he’d done the rounds with Alan before – plus now, they were being extra careful.

  Both of his friends were dressed in all black, with black knit caps pulled low on their heads, Dog’s also covered by a hoodie. Still, they walked and talked as if they owned the place; Lance wouldn’t have been surprised if someone heard or saw them.