Tame

by A. J. Llewellyn

  Cavan felt dismay flooding his senses. Surely it wasn’t true about this D/s relationship.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Ludo shrugged. “It is part of my…condition. If I’m to get better, I can’t.”

  “Your…condition?”

  Ludo gave him a shrewd look. “Masterson hasn’t said anything?”

  Cavan took a gamble. “He lied. He said he’s known you for years and you have a D/s relationship.”

  Ludo paused as he was about to eat another shrimp. “That’s disgusting and not true. He said he was saving me. Instead, he was like all the rest. No…not like the rest. He’s worse. He’s a real weirdo.”

  He’s not the only one. Cavan was mystified by their whole conversation. He’d been sent to get answers and only had more questions.

  “I’m not a violent man. I could never harm another.” Ludo seemed proud of that.

  Cavan felt as if he were fishing in dark waters in the dead of night, not sure what he would pull up when he reeled in his line. He felt there was a significance to this statement but how to draw the man out more?

  “But Masterson is a violent man,” Cavan said.

  “The worst.” Ludo stopped eating. His eyes turned black as if pain filled his soul.

  “I’m sorry,” Cavan said, keeping his tone soft. “I just…I can’t understand why he would do this to another human being.”

  “Because I wouldn’t do what he wanted.”

  “He wanted to have sex with you?”

  Ludo shrugged. “Not necessarily. He wanted something from me that I wasn’t willing to give.”

  He held the soup bowl in his hands. Cavan noticed a slight tremor as Ludo drank the broth, draining it completely.

  “That was very good, thank you.”

  “But he raped you. Violently.”

  “To try to intimidate me. To control me. His intention was to inflict maximum pain to get what he wanted.”

  Ludo put the bowl back into the paper bag, peering in it as if to make sure he’d eaten everything.

  Cavan took a stab in the dark with his invisible fishing pole. “Did you meet him in Venezuela?”

  “No, I have never been to Venezuela.” He glanced up from the bag. “When you come back, will you bring me some more soup, please?”

  Cavan nodded. “Sure.”

  “I am very tired now. We can talk some more when you come back.”

  “Did he meet you in Latvia?”

  Ludo cocked his head to one side. “I’ve never been there either. I had no idea he was so well traveled. I just imagined he was a hermit living on his sofa, watching old movies and trying to indulge his macabre fantasies.”

  Cavan stared at him but the effort of this final pronouncement did seem to exhaust the man who lay back against the pillows.

  “I’ll come back and bring you soup for dinner.”

  Tears glistened in Ludo’s eyes when he turned to gaze at Cavan. “Will you really?”

  “Of course.”

  Ludo gave him a tremulous smile. “Whatever happens, I promise you I will never hurt you.”

  “And I will never hurt you.” Cavan said the remark without thinking but Ludo’s hand gripped his as Cavan picked up the rubbish to take away with him.

  “I wish I’d met you before…”

  Cavan stopped. “Before?”

  “Before I took a swim that day,” Ludo said enigmatically and closed his eyes again.

  § § § §

  Back at the station, he was afraid that John Forsythe would be angry that he hadn’t learned much, but he found to his surprise the opposite was true.

  “That corroborates what we learned today. I don’t know why I thought Ludo might have been smuggled here, but those containers were shipped to Masterson and each one contained antique cars. I have no idea where he’s stored them since he’s being uncooperative, as usual. Your friend Ludo has no fingerprints on record, which means he’s never been in trouble with law enforcement. His identity is still a mystery though. He told you he’s from Argentina. Either he dropped from the sky like I said before, or, he has that illness associated with trauma. I just spoke to his surgeon and they think it’s possibly foreign accent syndrome. It’s a condition usually associated with sedation. A patient has surgery and wakes up speaking English with a heavy, European accent.”

  “I’ve heard of it. It’s rare, but it’s possible.” Cavan didn’t really think so. He felt Ludo had been honest with him.

  Forsythe went on. “Who’s to say this poor guy wasn’t sedated at some point by Masterson? He could also have been beaten into unconsciousness. He’s telling you he’s from Argentina, but it doesn’t mean he is. It’s interesting that his video has been all over the Internet and TV, but nobody seems to recognize him and nobody’s laid claim to him.”

  Forsythe checked his watch. “You’d better get back into uniform for your press conference.”

  “Do you want me to change back again afterward?”

  Forsythe grimaced. “No. I guess now we know he wasn’t trafficked from overseas, our focus is on what the hell Masterson was doing with all those guns and where his truck and those antique vehicles are.”

  He looked so disappointed Cavan apologized. He felt as if he’d failed.

  “Hey, it’s not your fault. You did good work, you got more out of the guy than some seasoned professionals did.”

  “I was wondering if you ever tracked down the restraints I checked into evidence?” Cavan asked. “Any word on that?”

  “Jesus, that Veo has a big mouth.” John shook his head. “We found it. It was there all along…just…well, some of the guys couldn’t help themselves and took a look at it and it was put in the wrong place. Keep that to yourself.”

  Cavan nodded. “Understood.” He had no choice but to return to the beat, such as it was, with no assigned partner. He changed back into his uniform, not that Veo noticed. He dominated the press conference, stepping over the mayor’s words. The story was only a day old but already losing steam.

  “We have no idea who the man is,” Veo said of Ludo. He repeated much of what had already been said at the hospital.

  Had anyone asked Cavan, he would have said the highlight of the conference was Felicity’s homemade brownies that had the word Boo! written across them in orange icing.

  Cavan took off right after he changed back into civilian clothes. Since robbery-homicide no longer needed him and he still had no partner, Veo told him to come back in the morning.

  As he walked outside, he glimpsed Mitch driving Veo off in the SUV and changed his mind about leaving. He walked back into the station. Felicity was opening up fresh bags of Halloween candy.

  “What do you need?” she asked, annoyance tingeing her tone.

  “I just have a question. What kind of cop is Mitch Berman?”

  “He’s not a cop. He’s a sort of…security guard.”

  “Security guard? Then why is he dressed like a police officer?”

  She put her finger to her lips, handed him a root beer barrel and accompanied him outside, walking him to his car.

  “He’s not officially a cop or a security guard. He’s a nice guy…got a bum deal a couple of years ago when he first joined the force. He got shot when he was off duty and tried to intervene in a robbery at a grocery store. He went blind in his right eye and he’s…well…Sergeant Veo has made it possible for him to keep employment. He drives some of the senior officers around. He handles tours of the station and goes to schools and speaks to the kids about truancy and staying away from drugs.

  “Anyway, I hear he’s getting eye surgery in a few weeks now that Sergeant Veo approved his insurance request. They say it’s a new technique that may just work. Maybe he’ll be back on the job for real.” She squeezed his arm. “Don’t tell anyone I told you.”

  Cavan was so taken aback he just shook his head. Who knew that Veo had such a heart of gold he’d helped a fallen officer this way? It also explained Mitch’s shift in mood when they�
�d met for coffee. He’d felt awkward. That made two of them. Cavan was surprised that Mitch had no vision in one eye. He hadn’t noticed a thing. He called his mother before he got into the car. She didn’t pick up, so he left a message and let her know he was on his way home.

  His sister was still there when he got home and seemed relieved when she saw him. She pounced on him the moment he arrived.

  “Chelsea quit. Mom was really mean to her, but whatever…we have got to get her exercising, Cav. Chelsea said there’s no real reason for her not to be walking on her own. She thinks Mom likes all the sympathy and attention she gets from not being completely mobile. She said Mom needs to use it or lose it…why are you sniffing like that?”

  “I smell rotting…food.”

  “That’s weird. I thought I could smell something funky, too, but man, I clean each time I come here and I know you’ve done a great job, too. I can’t tell where the smell is coming from. You said rotting food?”

  Cavan nodded. He and Vince had been ardent composters. His family recycled their refuse but he hadn’t been off the farm that long not to be able to identify the odor straight away. He followed his nose. His mother’s bedroom door was closed. She had a weird attitude toward anyone going into her private quarters.

  “Where is she?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “Watching TV and going through her banana label crap.”

  “Keep her busy. I want to take a look in here.”

  His sister nodded and, throwing him a worried look, she sped off down the hallway. He waited a moment, then turned the handle. At first he could smell lemon furniture polish. As he stood in the doorway and surveyed the room, he could see the mark of the vacuum cleaner on the carpet. And then it hit him.

  He didn’t blame his sister. On the surface, the room looked clean and tidy. He closed the door behind him and moved to the closet. The smell was awful when he opened the ancient credenza handed down through his mother’s family.

  Cavan held his breath as he looked at the contents of the closet. Food he’d purchased himself was stacked in neat rows. He opened a drawer and almost passed out. It was filled with fruit, vegetables and bags of pasta that had become infested with bugs. He slammed the drawer shut and walked to the living room.

  “Mom, how long have you been hoarding food?” he asked as she examined a banana label through magnified eyeglasses.

  “Hoarding food? What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? Dina and I are going crazy filling the kitchen with food and you’re hoarding it in your room! You’ve got bug infestations.” Cavan started to lose it. “Jesus, Mom.” Tears sprang to his eyes. His mother stared at him. Dina ran down the hall and Cavan fought off the despair he felt.

  “Can you explain it?”

  “No, I can’t.” His mother chewed her lip. “I don’t even know I’m doing it sometimes. Don’t put me away, Cavan. I’ll be good. I won’t do it anymore! I—I just thought if I kept some food in the bedroom…when Chelsea locks me in there, at least I can eat.”

  His body went rigid. “Chelsea locks you in there?”

  She nodded. “That’s why I put the chain on the door so she can’t get in.”

  Cavan heard his sister gasp. Dina stood in the doorway, sobbing. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I didn’t think you’d believe me.” Their mother began to cry. “Why is this happening to me? I feel like everything’s so bad…and yet…for the first time in so long, I have both my children in my house.” Her hysteria mounted. “I don’t want to lose you!”

  They both rushed to her, holding her. She needed help, a lot of help, but he wouldn’t let Chelsea hurt their mother anymore.

  “Does she have the house key?” Cavan asked. The two women looked at each other.

  “I guess,” Dina said.

  Their mother lifted a trembling hand to her lips. “Oh…that means she can come back.”

  “She can try, but I won’t let her. I’m gonna change the locks, and I’m going to let her know she’s not welcome in this house ever again.” He cleaned up all the food she’d been hoarding, tossing out six garbage bags full of food.

  He cleaned and sprayed his mother’s room and when he was satisfied she could sleep in there without any bug interference, he ran to the True Value hardware store and bought her a new lock. Now everything made sense. He understood why his mother kept the chain across the door and she had emptied her bedroom of its contents to store food. What he didn’t understand was why Chelsea would do this to somebody entrusted in her care.

  Back home, he fixed the lock as his sister made their mother some dinner. Dina had let her husband, Garrett, spend the afternoon and evening with his son, Max.

  “You should bring Max here more often,” Cavan suggested, giving her a spare copy of the new front door key. He had the other one and would get a copy made for his mother.

  Dina sautéed vegetables and shrimp in a wok. “Now I know what’s going on with her, I will. Cav, you think you could take him on a police ride-along sometime?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Let me know when and I’ll organize it.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “Will you call Chelsea?”

  “I thought I would, unless you want to say something. I mean, you and Garrett hired her.”

  “No, you call her. I also want you to file a police report.”

  “Done. Listen, I promised Ludo, the guy I helped rescue, that I’d take him some food to the hospital—”

  “No problem. I can stay with her a while. Will you be long?”

  “No more than a couple of hours, I promise.”

  He hugged his sister, feeling like something had shifted between them. She seemed softer somehow…nicer.

  With a hug for his mother, he phoned an order for two bowls of shrimp soup and returned to the Red Door. He was almost at the hospital, when John Forsythe called him.

  “I just got a call from the lab. Some of the hairs found on your uniform are wolf hairs. Can you fucking believe it?”

  Cavan pulled to the side of the road. “Wolf hairs?”

  “Yeah. And the locks and the spring lancets you checked into evidence? They have a mix of animal and human blood. The lab says it’s an unusual animal.”

  “An unusual animal?” Cavan found himself repeating everything but he felt as if their entire conversation was surreal.

  “I know. They’re being re-tested.”

  “Is there wolf blood?”

  “No. Only the wolf hairs. There were a lot on your uniform. Unfortunately, Ludo was naked when he was taken to Cedars-Sinai and the rape test kit was the only forensics we were able to get. I wish he’d had something on we could test.”

  “What does the rape test kit show?”

  “We had to get a rush on that since we only have Masterson for one more day before we have to start filing charges, but the sperm sample taken from Ludo matches his.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Except that Ludo won’t talk. He refutes Masterson’s account. Look, maybe you can take another crack at him. Convince him to press charges. I know he was raped and we have a good case, but he seems petrified of close scrutiny. After you left him this afternoon, I sent two of my best men to him. He practically broke down at the mere suggestion of showing up in court.”

  “Okay, I’ll try. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Well…maybe you could ask if there was a wolf on the property. This case gets stranger and stranger. Might even end up in the hands of the FBI. Masterson has quite a collection of medieval surgery and torture tools, some of them have blood stains. We may be looking at the work of a serial killer here.”

  Cavan’s mind raced.

  “Pity there’s nothing in any federal record that even comes close to matching the blood type the lab found. Creepy, huh?” John asked.

  “Have you found any dead animals on Masterson’s property?”

  “No. Nothing. The mayor and Chief Beck won’t okay further fu
nding for more digging. I’d like to look under that new shed Masterson built, but it’s still an active crime scene. I won’t be able to dig underneath it for weeks, probably.”

  Cavan didn’t know what to say, but John filled the void. “We certainly haven’t found anything like the maned wolf that came up as the closest match in the lab work analysis.”

  “Maned wolf?” What the hell was a maned wolf?

  “I know, weird, huh? Don’t s’pose you have one around your house, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  John chuckled and they ended the call. In his car, Cavan used his cell phone to Google maned wolves. They were an unusual wolf type, typically found…in Argentina.

  Maybe it wasn’t so weird. Ludo said he was from that country. Maybe he’d backpacked or something and there’d been transference of trace evidence.

  Transference? From where? Ludo had been naked inside a newly installed shed. Cavan wondered if maybe John was right and the shed had been erected over a graveyard…but wait. If maned wolves weren’t to be found in California, how the heck did one get into Masterson’s backyard?

  Chapter 5

  He didn’t see Ludo when he knocked on the man’s door. He let himself in, concerned at first until he heard the shower running. Cavan was surprised. Twenty-four hours ago, the guy had been so frail he could hardly lift his head off the pillow and his hand shook with the effort of any activity. Cavan noticed the bathroom door ajar as he put their bowls on the portable tray now pushed against the wall.

  Ludo stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and…fuck…so hot. Cavan shocked himself with such indecent thoughts. Was it wrong to look at a man who’d been so recently brutalized and be turned on by him?

  He decided looking was fine. And how could he not look? Ludo’s body looked amazing as he towel dried his luxurious black hair and then his body.

  His body.

  Ludo’s back faced Cavan, who could see the ugly cut marks all over the man’s neck, back and buttocks. A couple of deep slices ran down his thigh and to his right ankle. But still…in just over a day they seemed remarkably…healed.

  He turned and Cavan glimpsed the gorgeous cock dangling between Ludo’s thighs. He was uncut. Oh God…he’d always had fantasies about sucking an uncut cock. Ludo’s eyes remained closed as he ran the white towel around his body.