Secrets

by Lynn Crandall

  “I reported the rape to the police and went through the whole ordeal so I could do my part to stop him from hurting other women. Darrel was charged, we went to court. I even got on the witness stand and told my story again. But Darrel’s father, Bruce Dobosky, is a prominent, wealthy, and influential man in this town and a friend of William Carter.”

  Casey nodded. “I know things about the man.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and slitted his eyes. “Lots of publicity?”

  “Yes. And a lot of what the media reported was wrong. About me, wrong. His lawyer presented me as a promiscuous flirt. Friends of his family testified that I’d been chasing after him for weeks prior to the sex. They called it sex, not rape, because he claimed it was consensual.” She rubbed her arms, cold seeping throughout her body. “Darrel was acquitted. I can only guess, but as a friend of William Carter I’m sure Darrel had some purchased friends on the jury. On his way out of court he snickered at me and mouthed … ”

  “Let me guess, a threat, a taunt, something disgusting.” Casey balled his fists, but remained calm.

  “He said he’d be watching me. I was eighteen years old. If he wanted to ruin my life, he could. I lost myself for a while. I never felt safe. I was consumed with shame, but through counseling I got a grip on my life again.”

  Casey moved his chair close to her. He put his arm around her and stroked her shoulder softly. “What a complete invasion of who you are, a complete tearing apart of the foundation that kept you whole.”

  “I saw Darrel’s face everywhere I went. I tried to get a restraining order but the Carter effect prevented it.”

  Casey stroked her chin, soothing her deep sorrow and fear. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Michelle.”

  “It was five years ago. I’ve told myself over and over not to surrender my life to this evil person. But it changed me. I used to think I was invincible and fearless. Ha! Not anymore. But I’m working on it, still.” Tears blurred her vision, and she swiped them away. “Purchasing this house, my childhood home, was an attempt at creating a feeling of safety. I have nothing but good memories here and I thought … ” Sobs took her over, and she closed her eyes.

  Casey pulled her close, stroking her hair. “You thought you’d get more pieces of your life back. And now Carter is taking it away and threatening to do more hateful things.”

  “You’ve been so considerate of my need for space, Casey. I know I’ve probably hurt you by not telling you it wasn’t about you.” She let his arms continue to encircle her, let the warmth and strength of them comfort her.

  He pulled up her chin and peered into her eyes. “I appreciate you sharing this darkness with me. I know what it’s like to keep secrets.” He dropped his gaze and sighed heavily. “We’re in this together, Michelle.”

  “I don’t know why Carter would continue his campaign against me. The trial went Darrel’s way. It was five years ago.” She stared blankly ahead of her.

  “You know Carter. You know he doesn’t need a logical reason to do what he does. He’s simply corrupt. In his mind, he probably thinks he’s doing the right thing by his friend’s son.”

  They sat in silence as minutes ticked by. Michelle breathed in and out, letting Casey’s support sink in.

  “What can I do for you now? Just tell me and it’s done.” A muscle in Casey’s cheek twitched and again Michelle thought she heard a low grumble in his throat.

  She smiled. “You’re doing what I need from you. You’re taking my case and you’re here, really here.”

  “Yes, I am.” Casey dropped his forehead against hers, emphasizing his promise.

  • • •

  Back at his office, Casey resisted the urge to dig deeper into Michelle’s property dispute and turned his attention to the Pretid case.

  He opened his files on Pretid and began scanning the pages.

  He’d helped the biotechnical company secure a patent for a state-of-the-art hand-held device and computer program that promised to increase accuracy in clinical trials and better serve the research goals. He understood the importance of accuracy during trials. The integrity of data was integral to the success of the trial. Electronic diaries gave participating patients freedom to go about their lives during the trial and enable the clinical research organization, the CRO, the ability to collect accurate data faster from the device by simply downloading to the program. Uploaded to a secure system, the data could be accessed and shared across trials.

  Pretid planned to tailor devices and data collection programs for specific diseases, but this particular trial involved insulin pumps. Now in stage two, the trial’s use of the electronic diary was in testing efficacy and delivery of the dosage used in the pump. Though not the first electronic diary on the market, it presently was expected to be at the top of the market when released for public use.

  He’d requested information from Pretid about trial locations and where the problems were occurring. He checked his mail and his email, but found nothing new from Pretid. Frustration crept up his neck and tightened his throat.

  Casey leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. He turned to look out the expansive windows that lined one exterior wall and breathed in and out to clear his mind.

  His thoughts drifted to last summer, when Jackson’s company became implicated in a drug trial that was falsifying data. It was not typical to find a completely falsified trial. The FDA and the professionals involved in the pharmaceutical research field worked hard to ensure protocols were safe for patients and trial results were accurate. Lives were at stake.

  He absentmindedly rubbed his chin, his gut twitching. The drug business was a highly competitive and lucrative field. Things could go wrong. What went wrong with this trial wasn’t even irregular. Patients in trials understand that there are unknowns. But people behind the scenes who invest in the development of new drugs and new devices sometimes don’t see clearly. They choose to ignore symptoms, even things such as hallucinations and heart palpations, and categorize them under insignificant because they want the study to go forward. That’s why sometimes drugs were recalled, even after they’d been approved.

  But he didn’t like it when things went wrong. A trial subject with the disease, in this case diabetes, should not encounter life-threatening situations.

  He drew his fingers through his hair and took in the information on his computer screen. Someone in his town was corrupting his client’s good work. It had to stop.

  He lifted his eyes to the wall between his office and Jackson’s and saw a fuzzy image of his boss and friend staring out the window in his spacious office. Jackson was a great guy with a lot of smarts and a lot of heart. He had a lot on his mind. He’d worked for his father for a few years after getting his law license. It was during that time that he’d learned his father’s ways were toxic, for him and the world. He’d admired his father very much for his successes. But what he’d believed about his family couldn’t stand up to his first-hand scrutiny. The knowledge hit him hard and he’d made a deliberate decision to leave his father’s work and strike out on his own with a business that could help right wrongs of his family. Jackson hadn’t actually been the one to cut off his father from his life with Lacey and her son Tyler—he’d left it up to his father to make the choice. Appreciate new lawful and humane tactics in business and be in his life, or continue in his old ways, without his son around. William had chosen wrong. It’d been hard for Jackson to hold his ground against one of the most powerful men in the world, but he’d done it. Afterward, William became even more harsh and ruthless. It was a burden on Jackson’s soul, but with Lacey and Sterling and Ben as his anchor, he’d managed to make a good life and head a prosperous business.

  Casey closed his sight to the other office and leaned his head back again.

  Casey knew the ways of humans pretty well. He loved humans, and Jackson was one of the finest humans he’d come across. But even though times change and everything evolves, humans could produce amazing beauty
and fruits of love but still thrive on the lowest level of existence. Selfishness and greed. And unfortunately, Jackson’s father, infamous William Carter, remained one of the most selfish, greedy, and downright evil humans he’d ever known. His attempt to steal Michelle’s rightful property was just an example of that greed and malice. Casey’s blood boiled at the thought of William’s debauchery hitting so close to the humans he loved. He didn’t even try to suppress a low growl in his throat. He would put a stop to William, one way or the other.

  His cell phone vibrated on his desk and he saw on the screen that Lara Monroe had texted. She wanted a meeting of the colony tonight. He texted her back he’d be there. On top of his work at Carter, Inc. and his search into Michelle’s mortgage issue and safety, Casey always had colony management to contend with. Just something to take in stride. His leadership meant a lot to him. His colony of were-cats was made up of both “pures,” were-cats who were direct descendants of two were-cat parents, and “moggies,” were-cats who had human and were-cat parents. As the first moggy to hold the position of leadership of his colony, he intended to equalize the population of his kind. Parents and older were-cats remained members of the colony, but were inactive in colony activities. It was probably the youth of his colony members that had given him an edge in being chosen as leader. The younger members were more open to evolving. He considered it his job to lead the group in assessing what the shape of changes would be, including revising ancient rules. Fortunately, his second in command, Lara, believed as he did that change was due.

  • • •

  The headlights from Casey’s Prius shone into the dark, lighting his way through the forest on the winding road that led back to his parents’ house. His parents’ home had been home base for his colony for as long as he could remember. His father, Larry, kept things close to his vest and his mother, Camille, supported him. His mother was a human who carried a recessive gene for were-cat traits and his father was a pure, born from two pures. In his experience he’d found that pures expect to run things, including deeming a moggy’s home unfit for colony concerns. But somehow his father had made it so.

  His father had been a colony leader. He preferred to follow. He’d said it made life simpler for him. Casey thought of his father as quietly subversive, but his father would never agree to that description. How else could his life be explained? He didn’t like to rock the boat, yet he’d married a human. The stories Casey’s mother had told of the arguments about the marriage between his father and his grandfather made his father sound brave and strong and his grandfather ferocious. His parents’ marriage had caused a split in the colony of the time. Some followed his father as the new leader and adopted his father’s house as base, and some chose to go a separate way.

  It was convenient that the meetings typically were held here, because he could see his parents and his colony cats in one visit. Efficient. Plus there was the added benefit of his mother’s cooking. She often cooked a meal for them all and it was always delicious.

  He parked and stood outside, taking in the comfortable sense of being at his haven. It had been the place he could escape to and be himself after days at school being human. Luckily for everyone involved, were-cat children didn’t transition to full were-cat ability until eighteen years old, after high school graduation, so designated colony mentors could help them make the changes by keeping them at home. Casey chuckled, remembering his transition. It was a bit rough. Since each were-cat retains their human personality, in his case he resisted his mentor’s attempts to “tame” him or advise him to stick close to home while his shimmering was random and out of control. He’d wanted to be free to be himself, lynx and all, and felt unnatural at pretending.

  Things were different for him now. He carried a sense of being comfortable in his lynx skin and his human skin, so he didn’t need to act out or have the security he’d grown up with here in this grand home.

  Secluded among large oak trees, his parents’ home was more than one hundred years old. It stood tall at four stories high and was lined with large windows inset into the brick. Without moving he could summon an image of the gardens in the back that his mother kept green and healthy. As a child he used to play around the tall hedges that enclosed the gardens of rose bushes and simpler flowers, including daisies, hydrangeas, and peonies. In the warm months it made a plush and inviting spot, but now, with fall in the air, it would be dying down for the cold months.

  He lifted his nose to catch the scents of his home and got whiffs of a range of smells, familiar scents of his fellow colony cats: Asia Blue, Lara Monroe and her brother Asher, Elizabeth Sands—Tizzy for short—Conrad Pike, Quinn Arons, and Booker Chase. Booker’s wife, Shaun, was human, and she rarely attended colony meetings.

  Casey took the four steps up the stairs, through the front door, and into the entryway, then felt rather than saw his friend Tizzy barrel into him, her slim arms wrapping tightly around him.

  “Hey, Casey!”

  He hugged her hard. “Hi, Tizzy. You about knocked me over.”

  She laughed heartily. “If I had wanted to knock you over you would now be sitting on the floor.” The young woman sparkled up at him, her brown eyes the warm color of cognac, pinning him. In her were-cat form she was a beige-white lynx with the ability to leap higher than any of the rest of them. In her human form she stood a mere five feet, two inches and had the energy of a spring. “You’re late. We’ve been waiting for you to show up so we could eat dinner.”

  “I know better than that. Since when do any of you have the grace to wait for me or anyone else?” He rubbed her head of cropped blond hair.

  “Funny. We’re not that wild.” Tizzy winked up at him.

  Casey chuckled. “Yes you are. So, is everyone here?”

  “Not everyone, but those who are are waiting in the den.”

  In the den, Casey kissed his mother and hugged his dad. Conversations floated around the large room and bounced off the deep mahogany wood paneling. Groups of overstuffed upholstered chairs and a matching sofa made for comfortable seating in front of the large, limestone fireplace, now crackling with a small fire.

  Lara, the pure cat who had called the meeting, stood from her spot across the room. “Dinner will be ready soon, so shall we begin the meeting?” Lara was a sweet bobcat and a skillful vet with powers to heal.

  A roomful of nods and grunts answered her, and Lara began.

  She scanned the room for attention and shoved a shoulder-length twist of her dark hair behind one ear. Her dark, nut-brown eyes glistened in the light of the fire. “We have just one item to discuss, but it’s of great concern. At my vet office I’ve been getting calls from worried cat owners whose indoor-outdoor cats have disappeared. These are healthy cats who are regular patients in my clinic.” She cleared her throat and glanced around again.

  “How many?” Asia Blue, a sassy moggy with hazel eyes that sparked confidence pursed her lips. Her telepathic powers with other animals offered great insights into many issues, but it also gave her a direct link to an animal’s frantic or desperate moments. She had honed the skill of maintaining calm within her own boundaries.

  “I’ve heard from four owners. It’s been happening for about two weeks.” Lara sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Look, I know outdoor cats run into trouble all the time. Their lives are at risk when they run around outside. But these cats have homes where they have established patterns of always returning to. I’m concerned something foul is going on.”

  Asher Monroe, also a pure and also a bobcat—as well as Lara’s brother—sat up straight on the couch. “Have any returned since they went missing? Are there any particular locations we’re talking about from which these cats have disappeared? If there is a pattern, that would be something to investigate.”

  Quinn Arons, a moggy and a lynx, stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Yeah, that would be a place to start. Some of us could track.”

  Lara nodded. “I haven’t found a pattern, but I know the
locations of where each cat resides. I’ll email you each the home territories for the missing cats. Those who can track can let the colony know where and when. We don’t all need to track together, but the sooner we get results the better. Put this on the top of your to-do lists.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. It didn’t take a telepath to pick up the severity of emotions in the room, and Lara’s concern was palpable. “This is urgent. We all know the cruelty that humans can inflict. I don’t want this disappearing act to go on. I’ll email Conrad and Booker to get them up to speed. Thanks, guys.”

  Asher leaped to his feet. “Does that mean it’s dinner time?” He laughed heartily and grabbed Asia around the waist. “I think this cat could use a bit more meat on her bones.”

  Strong and lithe, Asia smoothly slipped out of his hold and beat him to the dining room, Asher steps behind.

  Casey smiled to himself. Even in their human form, Casey saw his colony cats in their were-cat forms. Their temperaments were such an integral part of them, no matter what form they were in.

  As Lara stepped up beside him, he sobered up. Her expression was still somber, so he waited in place while the others gathered around the table and helped themselves to dinner. “There’s more, isn’t there.”

  Lara chewed on her bottom lip and stared into his face, searching. “I know what you’ve been doing at night. You’ve been shimmering and watching Michelle.”

  He nodded, knowing there was more coming.

  “If the others found out you’re putting us all in such jeopardy, your authority may be questioned. You may even be ousted. This is serious, Casey.”

  He rubbed his thumb against the stubble on his chin. “Serious how? I’m careful. Why do people keep suggesting I’m not serious about serious stuff?”