Rare Find

by Dale Mayer

  When he was a couple of feet away, Ronin stopped, his gaze on the cat.

  "Now what?"

  She grinned. "Say hi."

  He shot her a fulminating look. "Just like that."

  "Well, to him of course."

  His gaze zipped back to the waiting tiger. Did she mean it the way Stefan had said to talk to Tango? 'Cause there was no way in hell he'd be dropping to his knees and closing his eyes in front of a tiger. Talk about being a sacrificial offering. Then as if to accentuate the fact that the tiger was waiting for the appropriate response, it sat down and waited.

  Taking a deep breath and feeling like an idiot, Ronin said, "Hi, Tango. Nice to meet you."

  No response. Then again, what had he expected? He shook his head then winced at the heavy buzz in his ear. Under his breath, he swore again.

  "That ringing inside your head... It's because he's talking to you and you're not listening."

  He stared at her in disbelief. "How did you know my head is ringing?"

  She snorted. "Because I can sense it. Normally I only listen to my animals but now... some things have changed and I can sense more with people too. And behind your lovely front of 'I don't like cats'...I see fear."

  Heat washed up his cheeks. Damn. So what if there was fear? Hell, there was a tiger in the room. Anyone with an ounce of working brain matter would understand. Besides, it's not as if he was afraid of cats... He knew there was fear there, he just didn't understand what exactly frightened him.

  And the last thing he wanted was her laughing at him.

  With a final glance at the still gaze of the tiger locked on him, Ronin decided enough was enough for this time. He'd done well but he didn't want to push it. He turned and headed back to the kitchen, putting a little distance between him and Tango. "While you're having your fun, I'll go finish eating. Unless you're planning on feeding dinner to the two of them."

  Turning his back on that damn feline was the hardest thing he'd done in a long time. And he was proud that he'd managed to do it in a calm, nonchalant manner.

  Then he found the two empty plates on the table and the guilty party still licking the tomato sauce off his face.

  Tripod.

  ***

  On the road at last. Only a couple of hours late. Not too bad. His boss had driven on ahead and Fez was hauling the cargo in the big rig. Roberts hadn't shown up yet. That was a pisser. Fez had called him a couple of times but Roberts hadn't answered as yet.

  The highway was almost empty. In fact, the truck was almost empty too. Good. It should make the trip easier. Faster.

  Most of the cages were small. Then there was the big one. What the hell was with her?

  He'd always loved his job before. Enjoyed the challenge and the payoffs. It had been easy money with plenty to keep him busy.

  Only something was shifting. Maybe because Roberts hadn't shown up, Fez was afraid his buddy had 'booked it' after all. That was bad news if he hadn't planned his disappearance the right way. When the boss found out he wasn't coming back to work...

  He sighed. This was a good gig. It wasn't hard. Gave them lots of free time. What was there to complain about? So what if they were moving females in cages. This type of job for many people was nothing. Besides they were paid enough to squelch any kind of misgivings.

  He shifted gears and took the truck into the turn.

  Please keep the females asleep. They were much easier to deal with when they were quiet. Of course they'd really start screaming when they saw where they were going. There'd be no appreciation there. But at least they'd have food and water and shelter.

  See, their lot wasn't so bad after all.

  And if he kept telling himself that, then maybe he'd start to believe it.

  Chapter 6

  Saturday evening

  They served up the last of the spaghetti on clean plates and ate. Tripod had been banished from the dining room this time. Afterwards, Tabitha took her coffee into the living room, Tango at her heels. The damn softie had been trying to steal her coffee for years. Tabitha never gave in, but that didn't stop the old cat from trying, or taking advantage of every opportunity that Tabitha was distracted.

  As she settled in one corner of the big settee that was from her grandfather's era, she couldn't help but see the room as Ronin had to see it. Shabby, retro, well lived in. Like her grandfather, and damn if that didn't bring the tears back up again. He'd been gone almost a week. It seemed like forever.

  Ronin stood awkwardly at the entrance to the living room staring at Tango. At least he didn't look like he was going to pass out anymore. She had to give him credit. He was still there. With a smile, she said, "Take a seat. I don't have much, but what I have is comfortable."

  She watched with interest as Ronin chose the chair furthest away from her – and Tango. Tripod slumped to the floor in between her and Ronin. The dog was incredibly intuitive and could sense human issues easily.

  The phone rang just then. She glared at the big black square relic from her grandfather's time. It continued to ring.

  "Aren't you going to answer it?"

  "It's Dennis, my father," she said shortly.

  Ronin tilted his head. "And..."

  She snatched up the receiver. "I'm fine, Dad."

  "Then why did the hospital contact me at the office to say you'd been admitted?" he snapped. "I just got the message from Eric. Is it too much to offer me the courtesy of a follow up call to say you are fine?"

  Of course the hospital had called him. He was her next of kin. He must have someone on the hospital board or an alert that rang some kind of alarm every time she went in. He always seemed to know. "I was admitted. I was checked over. I checked myself out." She sighed. "I'm fine. End of story."

  "Tango?"

  "Tango is fine. I'd passed out, someone checked up on me and called an ambulance. Not a biggie." She rolled her eyes at Ronin's raised eyebrow and turned her attention back to her father, wishing he'd hang up. She was lying and her father had a built-in lie detector. Like most fathers.

  "Hmm."

  She winced. "I have company right now. So maybe we can talk tomorrow?"

  "Unless you're unconscious and back in the hospital," her father said grimly.

  "Not likely. I'm fine. Just a little worn down."

  "Isn't that why you hired more people? So this wouldn't happen?" he asked. "Are you sure you can handle that place? It doesn't sound like it to me."

  Her back stiffened and she shot an angry look at Ronin. He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. She shook her head. "Dad, I can handle the place just fine. I'm not fragile. I'm not losing it or whatever else that damn assistant of yours might have suggested." She tried to rein back the sweeping emotions and the fear over losing her grandfather's estate. "Eric is a drama queen," she said shortly. "There's nothing wrong with me or the Reserve."

  "Germaine is concerned as well, and no one would call him that. Besides, look at the break-ins, vandalism and..." He took a deep breath. "And you having blackouts."

  "I'm fine," she repeated, hating the dread reaching up to choke her. "Just finish handling Granddad's estate so I'm not in limbo anymore and I'll be even better." She drew a deep breath. "Look, I need to go."

  "I'll stop by tomorrow. We'll go over the estate then."

  As she hung up the phone, she had to wonder how she could have been so close to her grandfather and so distant with her father.

  "You don't get along with him?"

  Ronin's black gaze studied her. She shifted self-consciously. How did one explain a missed connection between generations? "We've never been close. He hates this place and I love it. I was close to my grandfather but he wasn't." She didn't expect him to understand, but he was smiling. "But he's a hell of a businessman and donates money to keep the place running."

  "I do understand. I presume he isn't so hot on the animal thing?"

  She laughed. "I swear he hates them. And he really didn't like the whole circus performer thing. But my grandfather,
although retired by the time I came along, was a carny at heart."

  "That must have been tough on your father when his father was still a performer. That's hardly the same as saying my father is a doctor or a lawyer. For some kids, he'd have had the best dad but for many others, he'd have been mocked day in and day out."

  She had to wonder. Had her dad's life been the living hell he made it out to be?

  "I imagine that as soon as he could, he got out of this place. But what I don't understand is how and why you ended up here without him?" Ronin studied her face for an answer.

  "Now there's a story. My father had actually broken up with my mother before she found out she was pregnant. And she never told him. Apparently, she didn't want a child at that stage of her life. She tried motherhood out for a few months and decided it wasn't for her. She..." Tabitha sighed at all the childhood memories that had been so difficult growing up with. "She left me with my father."

  As his eyes widened in shock, she laughed. "And as you can imagine, that was a bit more than he'd bargained for when he opened his door on a Sunday afternoon. He had a six-month-old child dropped in his arms and was told he'd make a better parent than the mother was."

  Ronin shook his head. "Jesus."

  She could just imagine Ronin thinking of his own life and what he'd do in that circumstance. "The thing is, my father hadn't planned on being a father either. Ever. He'd had so little relationship with his own dad that he figured procreation wasn't for him. So he dumped me on grandpa."

  "Even though he'd had a poor relationship with his own father?" Ronin's brow lifted in surprise. "Wasn't that almost a punishment for you? He'd make you suffer as he had done?"

  She smiled. "I think he was too desperate to think clearly at all. Maybe in a small way he figured grandpa owed him. I don't know and I don't care because it's the best thing he could have done. I adored my grandfather and I'd like to believe I enriched his life."

  "Especially when you took to the animals the way his own son didn't."

  "True."

  "But your father still loves you."

  Ronin stated that as a fact and she had to wonder about that. "As much as he can, I guess. I never saw a lot of him growing up. I think my father would have happily dropped me off and never set eyes on me again, but my grandfather was strong willed and he had strict rules about what my father's role in all this was."

  "Sounds as if you might have gotten the best deal after all."

  "I sure did." She laughed as she reached across the couch to scratch Tango's ear with her nails. "All the kids I went to school with wanted to be me."

  "Goes to show you the difference a generation can make."

  "Also, my father is conscious of appearances. But for me, as you can see…" She flung a hand at her old living room. "Appearances are the least of my worries."

  "Not much point in tidying all the time if the animals have the run of the house. I'm sure keeping this place clean is an ongoing challenge."

  She winced. "It's the hair more than anything. Mostly from Tripod. Tango stays in his enclosure much of the time. When he's in the house, he has the run of every room though."

  "Including your bedroom."

  Knowing it was likely the death sentence to their relationship but feeling that she couldn't short Tango either, she answered truthfully. "Sometimes he sleeps on my bed."

  At Ronin's spluttering reaction, she shrugged. "Tango is good company. And if he isn't on my bed, you can bet Tripod is."

  "No wonder you sleep alone." Ronin stood up. "And speaking of sleep, you're tired. And need rest. Do you have a spare room for me?"

  "You don't need to stay over. I'm sure I'll be fine."

  "Doesn't matter if you believe it or not. I'm staying."

  There was no doubting the determined lock to the jaw or the glint in his eyes. She stood up. Let him see what he'd be sleeping in first. Then he could decide. She had several spare bedrooms but the beds weren't made up. One of the rooms didn't even have a bed in it. And the one room that was fully furnished and made up was her father's old room. She doubted Ronin would stay once he saw the accommodations.

  Tango got up and walked toward Ronin. He backed up. "And getting this guy back into his cage would be much appreciated."

  "If you're planning on sticking around, you need to get used to him being here. It's his home. I leave it up to him to decide where he wants to be." But she snapped her fingers, bringing Tango to her side.

  "Shit."

  Sighing, she stood up. "You can sleep in the spare room down this way. It was my father's old room."

  "Does your father, Dennis ever stay here?"

  "No," she said shortly.

  Ronin fell into step behind her. Tango, as if seeming to know where they were going, led the way. Tripod brought up the rear.

  At the entrance to the bedroom, Ronin stopped and stared. The far wall was large square mesh leading directly into the tiger's area.

  "Crap."

  ***

  Why him? He'd had enough of his ego being bashed by this damn cat thing. Ronin was not going to lose any more time on it. He hoped. "I presume the wire mesh is strong and I won't have any uninvited guests during the night." He was proud of how cool, calm and collected he managed to sound. How had Dennis liked being here with this cage?

  "It's secure."

  He studied the wire, walking closer to test it with his hands. It was solid. And from what he could see, there didn't appear to be any opening or hinges where the wall opened.

  "I thought Dennis didn't want anything to do with the whole carny thing."

  "That didn't mean he didn't want some connection to the animals. He was raised here after all. And besides, he hasn't slept in this room…" She broke off as if to consider, then shrugged. "Since… I don't remember when. Maybe thirty-five plus years."

  Ronin pivoted to stare at the large room, realizing how much like the rest of the house it was. As if time had stopped. Big, old and essentially untouched in several decades.

  Little had been done in the way of updating the interior or furnishings, and given where her heart lay, she'd most likely poured all the available money into the animals and their care.

  And speaking of animals...

  "Is this the only tiger you have right now?" He glanced around at her and saw Tango sprawled at her feet.

  "Inside the house, yes. My grandfather's last tiger, Tobias, passed away a few months before he did," she paused. "In fact, I wondered if grief played a part in my grandfather's early death. Those two were so close. And up until he died, my grandfather was very healthy. He went to sleep that night and just never woke up."

  "You found him?" Now that wouldn't have been fun.

  She squatted and gave Tango a good belly rub. "Tango woke me up. He was howling something awful. He knew. When I heard him, I knew. There was just something different about his call. I went and checked on my grandfather and found him in bed, still curled up in his favorite sleeping position."

  Ronin found it hard to believe that the damn motor coming from its throat was a purr, but it was acting like a baby house cat. "Are you and Tango that close?"

  Sadness swept over her as she smiled up at him. "Yes. He came into the household when I was ten and he was just a cub. We fell in love."

  "And how much longer does he have?"

  "He's living on borrowed time in many ways." She sighed and straightened. "Life expectancy is anywhere from twelve to twenty years, with the white species thought to be slighter shorter than their golden counterparts."

  "So he's old? How come he doesn't look it?" Then again, how would he know what an old tiger looked like? Several meters long from nose to tail with clear bright eyes and jet-black markings, he showed no recognizable signs of aging.

  "He's a pampered baby." She straightened. "He's been badly affected by the passing of our tiger, Tobias, and my grandfather's deaths."

  "So when did Tripod move in?" Hearing his name, Tripod nudged Ronin's hand. As mad as he'd
been over the disappearance of their dinner, he couldn't help but stroke the beautiful animal's huge head. As if realizing he'd been forgiven, Tripod walked over to the bed and stretched across the bottom of it.

  "He's seven now. And look... He's found your bed." She laughed. "Good thing you said you liked dogs."

  Dogs were good. Much easier to deal with than this cat thing he had going on. He couldn't remember when it all started, but anyone who compared a ten-pound, fluffy domestic cat to this five hundred pound-take-your-face-off-if-you-look-at-him-sideways cat was crazy.