Heidi held up her hands to stop the questions. “I assure you there is no black panther in my clinic.” She forced a chuckle. “Or anywhere for that matter. Such creatures do not exist, but I’d sure love to see one if you find one around here.”
“What was it then? What was it that Ritchie Handleman said he shot?”
Heidi racked her brain but could not remember Ritchie or Dave holding a camera or taking any pictures, so they must have done that before she arrived. She prayed there was no proof she’d been there with this so-called panther.
She shrugged again, praying she wasn’t about to step up to her eyeballs into it. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“What is this then?” The reporter held out a piece of paper she’d pulled from her back pocket. Heidi took it and unfolded it. A printout of a photograph obviously taken with a grainy cell phone camera.
God, she’d ring Ritchie’s neck. She hadn’t thought to tell him to keep his mouth shut. Why should she have? She’d thought the cat escaped from somewhere.
“I really can’t tell,” she said, handing the printout back to Shirley.
“Do you deny Handleman’s claims of shooting a black panther?”
“You’ll have to ask Handleman about what he hunts, but I didn’t know there was a hunting season on a non-existent creature.”
Shirley lowered the recorder and in a stage whisper said, “Come on, Heidi. Between you and me. What is that he shot? It looks like a black Falke. He said you came and picked it up after he called you.”
The red light was still lit on the recording device, and Heidi smiled politely while her gut clenched and a cold sweat pop out on her forehead. Town rumor claimed Shirley and Ritchie had dated a couple years back. They might still be close. This was going to get out of hand real fast if she didn’t nip it. “Shirley, believe me, I understand the big news that finding a black panther might produce. But don’t you think Ritchie might be having some fun with you? You know he was always somewhat of a prankster.” She pointedly glanced at her watch. “My first patient of the day—which by the way will be your average hound dog—should be arriving soon.”
“Heidi, come on. I don’t think Ritchie is lying.”
Heidi shook her head and gave a little smile. “I’ve gotta go.” She turned and walked onto the porch and into the clinic.
“This is not good,” Beth said as soon as the door clicked shut.
Heidi took a deep breath, bit her bottom lip, then walked past Beth and out to the garage.
The jaguar looked up but didn’t bother to raise his head from his paws.
“We have a situation, and if you can understand me, you better damn well listen up.”
“Squawk. Listen up. Listen up.”
The cat’s right ear twitched and his eyes narrowed as he turned his attention to Paco. Heidi had visions of white feathers flying and a weeping Mrs. Henderson coming to retrieve her bird.
“Look at me, damn it.” Heidi rattled the cage door. “There is a reporter outside who thinks I have a black panther in here. The guy who shot you posted pictures on the internet. If you understand what I’m saying, you better let me know, because I can’t hide you in here forever, which means...you’re fucked.”
“What if he can’t understand you?” Beth asked softly. “What are we going to do?”
“You’re fucked. Squawk.”
Oye, chata. If you don’t shut that goddamn bird up, I’m going to ring its neck.
Heidi sagged with relief against the chain link gate. The voice she heard in her head was a bass timbre with a very strong, very sexy Spanish accent. She grinned at the cat, then at her sister-in-law. “Give me the keys.” She held her hand out to Beth, who dithered. “It’ll be okay.”
Beth’s puckered expression showed her disapproval, but she handed over the keys. “Be careful, sis.”
“I will. Go make sure all the blinds are shut tight, and give Mrs. Blake a call. Tell her to stay home today...with pay.”
“And when she asks why?”
“Tell her I’ve decided to take a personal day.”
“But shouldn’t we go about business as usual? Won’t it look suspicious if we don’t?”
She hesitated a moment. Beth had a point. “Okay. Nix that call, but I really need you here to keep her busy and out of the garage.”
“I can do that.”
“And postpone any appointments that require my attendance.” Beth was experienced enough to handle minor first aid treatments and vaccinations without her. “You don’t mind covering for me, do you? The appointment book should be on her desk.”
“Sure.”
Hopefully, Shirley’s interest over an unsubstantiated sighting of a panther would dissipate by then. It was true that Ritchie had pulled pranks as a teenager. If she could get the evidence out of the clinic, there would be no proof he wasn’t just pulling a fast one on an ex-girlfriend who happened to be a reporter. Of course, he’d posted the video on YouTube...
“Oh, and one more thing?” Beth stopped, turned and waited. “Before Mrs. Blake arrives, could you run over to that second-hand store and get some clothes for our guest...and crutches if they have some?”
Beth eyed the jaguar before giving a quick nod.
“Thanks.”
“Just be careful.”
Heidi waited for Beth to leave the garage before turning back to the cage. If he was going to attack, she didn’t want her sister-in-law in the path of destruction. “Okay, big guy. We’ve got to get that cast off your leg and see how far you’ve healed. Only way we’re sneaking you out of here is as a human.” She clicked open the padlock but left it hanging in the latch, still holding the door secure. “You’re going to be a very good boy, aren’t you? Nothing funny. No more games. This is serious. I can’t help you if you don’t cooperate, and I’d rather not have to tranquilize you again.”
He snarled but then closed his eyes and blew out a harsh breath. I have never hurt a woman in my life, and I do not plan to start now.
She pulled the padlock from the latch and let the door swing open. “That’s good, ’cause if you were dumb enough to hurt me, discovery would be the least of your concerns. My family would hunt you down and turn you into roadkill.”
“Roadkill. Squawk.”
The jaguar growled, but he glared at Paco, not her.
You have my word, chata. I’ll not harm a hair on your head. That bird may be another story.
Heidi chuckled and closed the gap between them, knelt next to him. “It’s only been two days. How fast do you heal?” She touched the cast. “My brothers take at least a week, but none of them have had a broken femur.”
Not that fast, but I feel my strength returning. I will be able to shift, at least once.
She winced. Shifting with a broken bone would hurt like hell, and the leg would have to be recast afterwards. “Will you tell me your name now?”
The big black head with gorgeous amber eyes swung toward her, and she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, bury her face against his fur. He was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen. But there was no time for such things now. Right now, he was her patient, and she had to literally save his life. Again. This time from a fate that could be worse than death.
Javier Montero.
“Nice to meet you, Javier.” Even his name was beautiful. “I’m Heidi.”
Chapter Four
How many brothers do you have? Javier asked while Heidi worked on removing his cast. He wanted to know how outnumbered he would be whenever the confrontation occurred—and it would. His pretty, petite vet might be naïve enough to think her brothers would let him get this close and not react, but he was under no such delusions. She was rare, and this town was their home. The men in her family would respond the same way
he would if some stranger encroached on his territory.
“Six.”
Mierda.
She met his scowl with a frown. “I take it by the volume, that’s a curse. You don’t have to worry. I can handle my brothers. It’s the pesky reporter we have to worry about.”
She was wrong, but he didn’t argue the point. As soon as he was strong enough, he’d find his car and get the hell out of here. His fight was not with her family.
She continued to work on his cast. “So, where are you from?”
Nowhere.
“What brings you here to Washington?”
Nothing.
“Is your name really Javier Montero?”
He didn’t respond at all to that snarky question.
Her frown deepened. “You don’t want to talk? Fine, keep your secrets, but just so we’re clear on one thing—this is my home.” Her tone lost all hint of hospitality and sharpened to a razor’s edge. Brash and bold.
Extraordinary.
“I will protect it because I have a lot more at stake than you do.”
He snorted at that, which only riled her further.
Her volume increased with her temper. “I refuse to uproot from the only place I’ve ever called home just because you were stupid enough to get your ass shot by an idiot with a rifle.”
Her touch was not nearly as gentle as before, and a sharp pain in his leg made him flinch and hiss when she pulled the cast apart.
Her furious gaze collided with his, and he snarled.
“I’ve dealt with a half dozen arrogant, overbearing pumas all my life. One stubborn jaguar isn’t going to intimidate me, so knock it off.”
Her fire impressed the hell out of him, but she was still a threat, or rather her brothers were. He needed to get away from her, this cage—
“Knock it off, knock it off, squawk.”
Better yet, put as much distance as possible between him, that damn bird and this whole fucking area. He didn’t need this complication. He had to find Durchenko—find him and kill him.
“I’m all you’ve got,” she said around the bird’s annoying chatter. “The sooner you realize that, the better. So if you want to get out of here without your hide on a wall, you best find some way to trust me, ’cause if you can’t, how do you expect me to trust you?”
He released a huff.
Finishing with the cast, she got up, turned her back on him—a risk she took to make a point, he assumed.
Foolish.
At the door to his cage, she turned back and met his gaze once more. “Am I?” She shut the cage’s door. “You didn’t attack.”
I... What could he say? She was right. He hadn’t even tried. My leg is broken.
“Yes,” she agreed, “and we both know what a normal jaguar would’ve done, given the opportunity, regardless of his injury. But you aren’t a wild animal, at least not all the time. You’re a man. I trusted you this once. You’ll have to earn it from here on out.” She locked the cage door. “I’ll be back with your food. You’ll need to eat to have the energy to shift. And don’t try to stand on that leg. It hasn’t healed enough yet to support your weight without a cast.”
Despite her warning, he still climbed to his feet on three paws and tested his ability to put weight on the leg. The pain alone was enough to prove her case, but he had to know for sure.
He was stretched out on his side again by the time she returned with a carton of milk and a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, buttery biscuits and several thick slices of honeyed ham. Over her arm were some clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a cotton T-shirt, and under her arm was a pair of men’s sandals, which she dropped onto the floor.
“Options were limited at the store. Beth had to guess your size, so these may not fit, but she opted for larger being better.” Heidi stopped outside the cage door and stared at him. “You want to share something?”
He knew what she wanted—some sign of trust on his part. He could lie. She’d have no way of knowing whether he told the truth, but he decided to give her a morsel of honesty.
I am from Mexico.
“An illegal alien? Or tourist just passing through?”
He’d crossed the border legally, but whether he was passing through depended on Durchenko’s next destination. And Javier wasn’t exactly on vacation. I have a stamped passport...in my car.
“And your car is...”
I am not sure. Last I recall, I was behind the wheel...headed for Seattle.
“What kind of car is it? I could check with a friend at the police station, see if anyone reported finding an abandoned vehicle.”
He stared at her for a long pause before answering. A Jaguar XK...black convertible.
Her lips twitched, and he could tell she was trying not to laugh. She nodded, then lost her fight and snickered. “Really? Why am I not surprised?”
He heaved a sigh and let her have a laugh at his expense. The car hadn’t belonged to him. It had been Isabela’s until two years ago, but he wasn’t about to explain that to the nosy vet.
“Sorry.” Her expression turned serious once more. “They’re nice cars. I’ll see what I can do to help you find it.” She opened the cage door and set the food down, tossing the clothes near him. “Eat up, then change. I’ll wait just outside that door. There’s a new pair of boxer briefs stuffed inside the pants. Put those on, but hold off on the pants until after.”
After what?
“I need to look at your wounds, check the stitches and make sure there are no signs of infection. And I need to recast your leg. Hopefully the pants are loose enough to fit over the cast. If not, we can cut ’em into shorts. You want to chop ’em off anyway? It is summer after all.”
I am used to warmer climates.
“Right. I’ll bring the scissors just in case.” With that, she shut the cage door, leaving the padlock off this time, and stepped through one of the other doors to afford him some privacy.
He made short work of the meal, enjoying the flavor of the honeyed ham the most, and then focused on shifting. The familiar tingle slithered along his spine, and his vision began to blur. Then the pain hit. He set loose a roar that stuttered into a deep base scream as he completed the transformation.
Zapped of energy, he collapsed on the cold, concrete floor, unable to garner enough strength to dress.
Outside the door, Heidi had just returned with the scissors, fresh bandages and casting materials when she heard him scream.
“Heidi?” Beth came running down the hall, but Heidi stopped her.
“I’m fine. Go check the windows while I check on him.” Beth had told her Shirley had gone, but that didn’t mean the woman wasn’t staked out nearby, and Heidi wasn’t sure how soundproof her garage was. When Beth hesitated, she added, “Go. The last thing we need is for someone to come charging in here to see what the noise is all about, or worse, call 9-1-1.”
Beth nodded and headed for the lobby.
Maneuvering her supplies in her arms, Heidi managed to open the door and head in to check on Javier only to find him still nude and collapsed on the floor.
“Damn it.” She dropped her supplies and entered the cage, touching his shoulder.
“Get out,” he snapped, curling into a fetal position, except for his wounded leg.
Tetchy. “I’m a doctor.”
“You’re a vet.”
“Same difference to the likes of you.” She grabbed the muscle shirt Beth had bought and covered the man’s privates, but not without noticing he had a nice package.
Shame she didn’t have more time to admire his physique, but she chastised herself for such wayward thinking. He was in pain, irritable, needed her help, and they were still in danger of discovery. She had to get his leg treated, recast, and get him removed from her clinic befo
re anything else could go wrong. The last thing she needed was authorities showing up to ask why she was now treating a man with a gunshot wound in her garage, or worse, why the man’s wound was similar in location and type to the one Ritchie claimed to have caused in a black panther.
“Hold still. I’ll do this as quickly and painlessly as possible.” She retrieved her supplies, checked the stitches to see both wounds had already begun to heal with no sign of infection. That was the good news. The bad was his leg was still obviously fractured, and the shift hadn’t helped in that regard.
She rewrapped the thigh, slipped on a stockinette and Webril to protect his skin, and then formed a new cast that covered a majority of his leg, from upper thigh to midcalf. “You’ll feel some heat. I’m using warmer water so the cast will set quicker.”
He grunted but didn’t open his eyes.
Although she allowed for a partial bend at the knee, she didn’t want him moving it too far or putting pressure on the femur. Once the cast set, he should be able to walk with crutches or sit easily enough with his leg at a stationary angle.
While she worked, he held the shirt in place over his crotch and kept his eyes closed, his breaths steady.
“All done,” she announced, cleaning up what was left unused. “Can you...”
She forgot the question when he opened his eyes to look at her. In human form, they were the same amber color, their brilliance trimmed by thick black lashes.
He had a full head of short hair, dark as a moonless night, and a handsome angular jaw line shadowed with a two days’ growth of whiskers. Chiseled features captured her imagination and sent her fantasies on a new course.
“What’s the matter, chata? Cat got your tongue?” His lips curled into a smirk that made her heart stutter.
She blinked, shook her head and lied. “Not at all. Can you get dressed? Or do you need help?”
He glanced at his clothes and then himself, his shirt still strategically held over his groin. “Perhaps with the one leg.”
Swiftly, she grabbed the underwear out of the pants and threaded his right foot through one leg hole, leaving the garment below the bottom edge of his cast but well within his reach.
Falke’s Renegade Page 4
