Secrets

by Lynn Crandall

  Without fear, she smiled at him. The animal chuffed, once, twice. Then he trotted off, turning back once, then slipping through the hedge and into the night. Was the lynx limping? The thought of an injury made her scowl. She wanted to help, but of course that wouldn’t be possible. She walked outside anyway.

  Seconds later, a loud yelping cry from the field prickled her skin. More wild yowl than growl, the sound echoed loudly, profoundly. Goosebumps prickled her skin. She crouched under the hedge and walked a few steps into the field, her eyes peering into the darkness for the lynx, just to make sure the animal wasn’t hurt. But if he was out there among the grasses and trees, he was well camouflaged and she couldn’t see him.

  Curious thoughts skipped through her mind. His presence was illogical, and yet he had visited again. His behavior wasn’t normal, and yet it seemed deliberate. The moment settled inside her, strange, warm, and comfortable.

  Too early and too awake for her to even think of sleeping, Michelle grabbed her laptop and walked to her bedroom. She carefully plopped down onto her bed and let her cats find places to settle in while she clicked on her search engine and typed in “Lynx.” Scanning the list of search results, she chose one with images and information from a wildlife refuge.

  When the image of a lynx opened, she sat straight. “That’s the animal I’ve seen,” she proclaimed to her cat audience, who were each too busy grooming to pay attention.

  Delighted with her find, she perused information, filling her head with text about habitat, different species of lynxes, behavior, and even mythology.

  She didn’t know the bobcat was a species of lynx. She didn’t know that today’s lynxes were ancestors of lynxes who were around in Europe and Africa during the last Pliocene period. And she didn’t know that ancient people believed the animal manifested as a shape shifter with exceptional strength, keen hearing, and dexterity and agility. In addition to the myth Lara had told her about, that lynxes could see through solid objects, according to the mythology the animal had the ability to heal quickly and draw insights from their keen senses. Of course, some religions believed were-cats, cat shifters, were actually witches or demons, and hunted them to kill.

  Settling back against her pillow, Michelle turned what she’d read around and around in her mind. She didn’t believe in malevolent species of animals. No, the malevolent types were humans who didn’t understand nature and were afraid.

  I’m not one of those. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that animal is beautiful.

  She set her laptop on her nightstand, turned off the light, and nestled under the covers. Delicious wonder and peace filled her as she let herself drift off.

  Chapter Five

  Casey sat up in bed, the dream he’d been having still alive in his head. He rubbed his hand through his hair. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Oh, my God.” His heart thudded hard and fast in his chest. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, sucking in deep breaths of air. Four in the morning. Loneliness lay heavy in his heart.

  The dream had been so real, so terrifying. So unusual.

  He set his feet on the cold wood floor and sat still on the side of the bed. He took in the room, his room in his house, and sorted through the images in his dream as his body reactions calmed.

  He was accustomed to dreaming as his lynx form. Dreams of running through fields with the speed and exhilaration of freedom made frequent nighttime appearances. But this dream made him shiver. He dropped his head in his hands and lived through it again.

  He saw himself standing in his human form with Michelle in her backyard. Darkness enveloped them comfortably and a starry moonless sky contained their moments of shared solitude. He’d brought her warm hand to his lips, the scent of her skin heady and alluring. She’d laughed, delighted when he pretended to take a delicate nibble of her skin.

  Casey balled his hands. The moment of togetherness in the dream thundered through him as he revisited what happened next.

  He’d lost control. He’d done the unthinkable. He’d shimmered, right in front of Michelle, into his lynx form. Horrified, he’d stood there as his purest self and her screams echoed fiercely against his heart.

  Nearly staggering with despair, he stood and walked across his room and leaned his arms against the window. The quietness and stillness outside stood in stark contrast to his inner turmoil. He stood in the dark, naked, and let the reality of his dream enter his waking moment.

  He knew all his life, before his first shimmer at eighteen years old, that he could never share his secret with any human. He’d always accepted that. It made sense. It was different for his parents. His mother had known of were-lynxes’ existence through stories passed down in her family of ancient relatives biting human mates, transmitting lynx blood, and introducing the lynx gene into the family line. But that didn’t change the rules. He believed if humans discovered the truth, his life and his colony would be in grave danger. At the most positive end of likely possibilities, he and his fellow were-cats would be made lab animals in some government facility. At the other end of possibilities, they’d be slaughtered as abnormal animals that threatened what humans considered normal.

  He pounded his fists against the wall, frustration and loneliness crashing through him. How could he ever entertain the idea of a relationship with Michelle? Why did his subconscious think he could? He couldn’t put her at risk or his colony. And he wouldn’t allow himself to try for a relationship when it would require secrecy, even though he clearly longed for complete honesty with her and a closeness and acceptance he’d never had.

  While watching Michelle last night, that knowledge of never being real with her had nearly torn him apart. The feeling roared up from his gut and rushed out into the world in an anguished yowl.

  He twisted his neck and rolled his shoulders. A run would settle his nerves, but better use of his time right now would be to take the energy running through him to his office at work, where he could put it to use for Michelle and for Jackson’s business.

  A heavy sigh escaped him as he stepped under the warm spray in his shower. The water poured over his face, down his body, and into the drain, where he hoped it carried the longing and yearning for more. He’d always believed in the timing of things and the organic move of nature left to its natural action. But this move toward a relationship with Michelle was out of step. The time would never emerge naturally for a coming together in the way his heart craved.

  An abrupt shift took him to a place inside that wanted to tackle his problems. Casey dressed and jumped behind the wheel of his car and drove to work, the information he’d gathered last night in a bag on the seat.

  A quick stop at the coffee shop to pick up a breakfast sandwich and extremely large black coffee first—thankful they opened early—then he made the short trip to the office, pulled into his parking spot, and shifted fully into work mode.

  He unlocked the front door and winced as he pulled. “Oww.” His shoulder objected to the heavy door. The dream and his attention on work had pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Besides, by mid-morning the sore area would be healed, thanks to his were-cat blood.

  He took the stairs to his office two at a time and set his laptop on his desk. While it booted up, he downed his sandwich and savored the bold taste of his coffee, immersing himself in the rich silence around him.

  No guilt prickled his insides. Technically, he had stolen information and Jackson wouldn’t like that. But when it came to William Carter, all bets were off. The man’s methods were brutal. He took what he wanted when he wanted and left scorched earth behind. Remorseless.

  Casey wiped off his fingers, took another gulp of coffee, and jumped in.

  First up, loading the files and images of documents he’d acquired at Carter Enterprises. He saved the files in a secured area of his laptop that required another password, one he changed every day.

  He rubbed his chin, focusing hard on the pages. His muscles tightened, as the implications bloomed larger and l
arger.

  Carter Enterprises wanted Michelle’s property because it sat next to a research and development company with an undisclosed objective. That benign looking facility two blocks from Michelle’s home belonged to a shell of Carter Enterprises. Casey clenched his fists, realization of the close proximity of danger to Michelle sending fiery bursts raging through him. Something rang familiar. Something about the facility. He cross referenced the materials Pretid had sent him and stopped when he found the list of CROs conducting trials of Pretid’s device. The location of each site was listed. The facilities’ locations were spread across the Midwest. One stood out to him, making his stomach clench. Only one facility reported problems to the Institutional Review Board that monitored drug research, and that had been by an unnamed member of the team. Casey sucked in his breath as he stared at the location of that problem facility. It not only belonged to Carter Enterprises, it was located two blocks from Michelle’s home.

  Holy shit! He shook his head, trying to contain the magnitude of Carter’s plans and the simplicity of his motive. The project was already underway and massive problems seemed to dictate enlarging the facility and the buffer zone between it and the outside world. That’s where Michelle’s property—rural and secluded—came to Carter’s attention.

  Words such as “immediate correction of unforeseen side effects,” “collateral damage,” and “remove threat of discovery” went right to his gut. Even under normal circumstances under the guidance of a company with morals and ethics, these kinds of situations would raise huge red flags and prompt control measures that would not endanger others. But Carter Enterprises had no such morals or ethics. Michelle’s property was already under siege and Carter’s lawyers clearly were paying all the right people to ignore her rights and create an illusion of impropriety at the bank.

  Reading on, Casey’s breath froze in his lungs. He fisted his hands and slammed them against the desk. It couldn’t be! His father’s name popped up on the page with a list of Carter’s projects. His father. The land grab and undisclosed project involved his own father, Larry Mitchell. How? Casey had no knowledge of his father even being acquainted with Carter.

  He read further, his anger and dismay swirling together in his body. He couldn’t deny what the paper said. It included Larry Mitchell in the list of investors in Pretid’s device trial.

  Cold fingers of disgust twisted around his throat at the same time his world crumbled like dry bread.

  His father and William Carter, Jackson’s father, were working together, using Pretid’s device to corrupt yet another drug trial. The end game was hidden somewhere, and this tampering with the device was only the top of the pile of shit they were building.

  Anger and confusion mixed with urgency and frustration drove him to his feet. He glanced at his clock on the wall. Six-thirty in the morning. He’d been reading through his find for two hours. It still wasn’t even morning for people going to work today. He pressed print for the most telling pages. His steps against the carpeted floor marked off the room, back and forth.

  Outside, the morning sun was just rising. Through the wall of windows he could see the pinks, oranges, and yellows color the sky. But while the dawn of the day offered a soothing palette, it contrasted painfully with the ragged dawning in him that Michelle could lose her home. She could be haunted forever by the malevolent danger of William Carter. This game of torturing Michelle could end with her death, he feared, and his world thundered bleakly in his body. He wanted to throw off his clothes and run and run in lynx form for as long as he had strength in his muscles and breath in his lungs.

  He gulped in deep breaths, steadying his emotions. He couldn’t run; he had to talk to Jackson. It wouldn’t wait another minute.

  He shrugged on his jacket over his sore shoulder and strode out of the building. Climbing in his car, he heard his cell phone ringing and glanced at the number. Dread sank like a soggy sponge in his gut. It was William Carter, and Casey suspected he wanted to talk about the break in, whether he had any actual knowledge about it or not. He clicked on the ignore button and focused on driving to Jackson’s house as quickly as possible. His laptop on the seat beside him shouted at him to hurry, but he should at least let Jackson know he was about to be invaded at the crack of dawn.

  Then his phone chirped, a sign he was receiving a text. One look at the screen and he saw Lara wanted to talk. He pushed the button for activating his onboard hands-free phone and said, “Call.” He waited for the phone’s voice to verify, then he spoke her name. Seconds later Lara picked up.

  “Good morning, Casey. Sorry to bother you so early.” Her smooth voice’s friendliness held a tone of concern.

  “Not a problem. What’s up?” Casey pulled over to the curb so that he could concentrate.

  “I have specific locations where the four cats I mentioned at the meeting live. Doesn’t mean that whatever happened occurred in those places. Free-roam cats are known to range territories of thousands of acres.”

  “Sure. But those locations are a starting place. Have you organized anything yet?” He rubbed his chin in thought. What he needed to share with Jackson weighed urgently on his shoulders, but early morning gave his colony a window to search for the missing cats before their day’s activities took over their time. “Why don’t you let everyone know the coordinates and we’ll team up in the four locations.”

  “Are you available now?” Her voice lilted.

  “Yup. Organize it and send assignments as soon as you can. I’ve got pressing matters but these cats need to be protected. Let’s see what we can find this morning.”

  “Consider it done.” She hung up and before he’d pulled away from the curb Lara sent the list of locations and he had the coordinates to a home in rural Laurelwood. “Looks like I’m teamed up with Asia.” He shook his head, hoping Asia could stay on task for once.

  He slipped across town, determination boiling in his body. He didn’t know yet what had happened to the cats, but he had a gut feeling it wasn’t benign. Free-roaming cats could get into all sorts of trouble all on their own. A lot of threats in the environment could be lethal. The sooner the colony had answers the better for the cats, assuming they were still alive.

  The idea lumped in his throat. He knew very well that death was a part of life, but it never set well with him when innocent and somewhat helpless animals became victims of human activities.

  He checked his GPS and made a turn down a country lane. The sunrise stained the sky with pinks and oranges, though the sun wasn’t completely up yet. Casey didn’t need streetlights to see beyond his headlights. The farther he drove up the lane the more overgrown it got. When he spotted Asia in the dry, tall grasses that surrounded the small house on the property, he pulled to a stop. He nodded to her and she nodded back, before slipping off her clothes just inside her car door while he did the same. He opened to his lynx form and let exhilaration of his shimmer take him over.

  Standing on all fours, he waited for Asia to walk over, letting the lynx form settle solidly. His keen senses of his lynx nature never left, but in this state they intensified, becoming wild and raw.

  In afterthought, Casey realized it might have been a good idea to first talk with Asia, because in lynx form they couldn’t speak. Oh, well. Her telepathy would come in handy and she at least would know what he was thinking. He slanted his head at her and she nodded. It was time to get down to tracking.

  Asia’s medium-brown fur spotted with dark brown framed her white chest and belly. Powerful, high-spirited, and telepathic with animals, she was a formidable creature. A reporter who covered the police beat, she had no trouble managing the cops or the sleazebags she wrote stories about for the local daily.

  Casey motioned to Asia that he would take scents at the house and she joined him. Better that they both know the cat’s scent. It was far better than a description for accuracy.

  Fortunately the small, one-story house was dark. He imagined a retired couple living here, enjoying a simple li
fe. The lawn was covered with dropped leaves from the maple trees that stood stately around the house. He trotted up close to the house, his nose to the ground, searching, while Asia disappeared around the back. Casey took a few steps onto the covered front porch and caught a prominent whiff of cat food. A dish filled with canned cat food sat on one end of the wooden porch. According to Lara, this cat had gone missing two days ago, so the owners apparently had hope still for its return.

  Casey turned his face up. The sun was weak behind clouds, but it was up. He chuffed at Asia. We need to hurry this up. A low growl sounded as she rounded the corner of the house. She’d picked up a scent. Together they followed it to the edge of the yard and into the field. The only sound in the morning was that of their paws crackling twigs and plodding through dry leaves. The scents stirred with their footsteps, but Casey’s sense of smell hung hard to the scent of cat.

  Asia broke to the side, swiftly tracking a new scent. He could tell it was new because she’d shook her head and pawed delicately at the ground when she’d first nosed it.

  When the scent of the cat suddenly disappeared, the lump in Casey’s throat dropped to his gut. He scanned the field for broken branches or scraps of fur. A burst of a cry from Asia alerted him to run to her now. Bracing himself for cat remains, he sprinted to her find—human footprints. About four. A rectangular impression in the dried weeds confirmed what they feared. This cat, and probably the other missing cats, had been trapped and taken somewhere.

  Anger burning in his chest drove him. He trotted around the space for more evidence, something to lead them to the cat. Wheel tracks that led through the field and back out onto the lane made fury rise into his chest and up through his throat. A piercing yowl echoed through the field.