“A man they’re calling John Doe was apprehended. He had an arsenal at his disposal, and it looks like he used every bit of what he had to keep from being arrested.” Thatcher told her what he had on his end. “I would imagine there are even more than that someplace else. Thirty agents to go in isn’t nearly what I’d be taking in.”
“Three of the ones that were brought here are dead. One more isn’t going to make it. There are no name tags on these men and women. How will they know who is who when it’s all finished, and they have to contact their loved ones?” She had told him. “I guess I thought they all had families like you and Tru do. Is that why she only goes out on clean-ups that are relatively safe?”
“I would imagine she goes out on assignments that none of us know about. You have to remember that she’s clean up, and there are none better than her. Just like me and my computers.”
She told him whatever she found out throughout the day, and he relayed the information to Dawson.
The two of them worked well side by side. Dawson had been in ER for so long he was very good at making quick decisions about what he needed to do. Thatcher wasn’t that quick, but he was learning to work on the fly, as Dawson was so fond of saying.
Now here they were, in the middle of the night, driving back home. He’d wanted to take a flight back—it would have been easier—but Dawson told him that he just needed to unwind for a little while, and driving the two hours was just what he would need. When they pulled into an all-night diner, he looked at his brother.
“I’m starving. I’m sure you are, too, if your stomach noises are any indication.” He said he could eat. “Thatcher, I don’t know if anyone has ever pointed this out to you before, but you say that all the time. Like, is there ever a time when you aren’t hungry?”
“Never.” They got out of the car and walked up to the quaint little place. “I didn’t know this place was open again. I mean, after the previous owner passed on about five years ago, I just thought it would never reopen. Remember coming here after a football game?”
“I didn’t play ball. But I do remember coming here with Mom and Dad for breakfast a few times a month. Best grits in the state, I think Dad used to say.” The waitress told them to have a seat wherever they wanted, and they opted for the one close to the long bar that had neat little red stools lined up in front of it.
“Cad a oíche. What can I get the two of you?”
Thatcher understood her saying that she’d had a night but didn’t comment. Dawson looked at the woman.
“Irish.” She shook her head and told him she was Caitlynn, just as her nametag said. “No. I meant you’re Irish.”
“Aye, that I am. And you be a scholar, aren’t you?” She winked at Dawson with a sassy grin. “I’ve some fresh tea brewing if you’ve a mind to try it. Also, there is coffee for the heathens that wish that nasty brew.”
“Tea. I’m sorry if I insulted you.” She said she was having a wee bit of fun with him, and Dawson nodded. They both ordered the tea. “Also, if you have some lemon, I’d like that as well.”
“You’ll not be messing with my tea with a drip of lemon, I’ll have you know. Are you daft, man?”
They both were smiling when she walked away, laughing a lyrical laughter that had him wishing she’d sing to them.
“I’m sappy again.” Dawson asked him what it was now, and Thatcher told him about her laughter. “Doesn’t it sound like a song we should listen to?”
“You are sappy. What does Rogen do with you when you get like this? I’m betting you run and hide from her, so she doesn’t slap you upside the head.” Dawson shook his head as he continued. “I feel out of sorts myself. Like something is terribly wrong with—”
The man came out of nowhere. He pulled Dawson from the seat he’d been in and had a gun to his head. Thatcher didn’t move, but he did talk to the man, asking him what was wrong and not to kill his brother. Then Caitlynn was there too.
“Da. Stop this. Stop ag gortu’ an fhir seo, Da?” Caitlynn telling her dad to stop hurting Dawson wasn’t working until she shoved her way between them. “Da. It’s me. Caitlynn. Your wee bonny lass. Come on now. Don’t hurt him. You’ve been woke up too soon, I can see that.”
“What can I do?” Caitlynn told Thatcher there was nothing. That her dad suffered from night terrors and sleepwalking. She cautioned them not to wake him suddenly. “I can’t let him hurt either of you, Caitlynn. Get him to stop, or I’m going to have to take him down to the floor.”
“Did ya hear that, Da? This man is going to hurt you if you don’t wake up and let his poor brother go. Is that what you be hoping for? Come on now, Da. Let the man go and—”
The gun went off, and Thatcher jerked the man off the woman and to the floor. It wasn’t until he searched the man for any wounds that he turned to ask Dawson if he was all right. It was Caitlynn that had been shot. Her blood was staining her white shirt like it was going to stain it red before she fell to the floor.
“Oh my God, baby girl. What have I done?”
The man moved out of the way when Dawson told him to. After laying the woman on the floor, Dawson went to work on her. The man, they’d never gotten his name, started sobbing that he’d killed his little girl.
“Go get my bag, Thatcher.” He nodded and went to the trunk to pull out both their bags. He was thankful now that they’d been able to get some good supplies while at the other clinic and rushed back into the restaurant. “She’s not going to make it. Christ, this is a nightmare. I’m going to change her. It’s the only way to save her.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Dawson looked up at him, and he saw it. “She’s your mate.”
“Yes. I didn’t know until she was standing between me and her father. I have to save her, Thatcher. She’s not going to be happy, but I have to do something.” The sound of the gun going off in the kitchen had them both pausing. “Go and see what that old fool is up to. I swear to you, Thatcher, I wish now the two of us had taken the plane.”
Dawson was shifting to his cat just as Thatcher opened the swinging door to the kitchen. There on the floor, with the gun lying beside him, was the man. He had just finished slitting his right wrist when Thatcher got to him.
Making a decision that would change the course of two people’s lives, Thatcher let his cat take him too. Licking the wounds closed at his wrists, he knew he’d have to work fast. There had been a lot of blood loss. The first wrist he’d cut had been too long, and the old man was probably losing his grip on life even as he shot his gun off, Thatcher thought.
Biting into the soft part of the man’s belly, Thatcher tore at his flesh so the change would hopefully be quicker. Praying that he could save the man’s life, he tasted the chemicals that the man had been taking. Antidepressants. Large doses of caffeine. A cocktail of all kinds of over the counter drugs mixed with the ones that had been prescribed was what was poisoning the man, causing his nightmares, as well as a great many other things Thatcher could taste.
After the man’s heart started beating better, his breathing evening out too, Thatcher sat back on his haunches and watched him. Exhaustion like he’d never felt rolled over him in ways he was sure no one on this earth could have been prepared for. Dawson joined him in the kitchen with Caitlynn in his arms. He laid her on the floor beside her father and sat down next to him.
Putting his hand in his fur, Dawson started talking. “We’re going to need some help here. I don’t mean with getting the two of them home, but there is a lot of blood out there that someone is going to notice. In here, too, it seems. Can you call Rogen?” Nodding, he pulled out his cell phone to call her after shifting to his other self. He was glad to see the blood was gone and that his clothing was intact. “Will you start off with the fact that I found my mate? That might make her less pissed off at me if you do that.”
“She won’t be mad, Dawson. We did what we had t
o do.” Rogen answered on the first ring. She asked him where the hell he was. “I’m in a sort of a bit of trouble here. Nothing major, but we have a great deal of blood that needs to be cleaned up, as well as two people we’ve had to change.”
“Where are you?” After giving her the name of the place, he told her what had happened. “Well, of course, I’m not going to be mad at him. What a thing to say to me. All right, Thatcher, I’m at the computers. Tell me again the name of the place the two of you are in. By the way, why did you call me on the phone? Usually, you just reach out to me.”
“My dad taught us that. When you reach out to someone in the middle of the night, they might not wake fully and incorporate whatever you’re saying to them into their dreams. They may or may not remember it in the morning or even wake enough to help you if you need them. So we call first.” Rogen said that was a wonderful idea. “Dad has them on occasion. Sometimes they’re off the wall, but he is the greatest.”
“All right. I have the place. Boy, there is nothing around it for miles. I can have a clean-up crew there in about twenty minutes.” He told her he didn’t need Tru. They’d only just saved the people. “A clean-up crew to make sure there isn’t a trace of blood behind, moron. Christ, I love you. Also, I’ll call in some fill-in people to work the place. According to the things I’m reading, for being out in the middle of nowhere, they serve up a really hardy breakfast. Do you think the two of you can muddle through until someone gets there?”
“Do you mean cook? Then yes. We can just make sure no one is seated in the middle of the place until you have people here. We’re also going to need something to transport the people to our homes. I don’t know what Dawson is planning.” His brother told him what he wanted to do. “All right. He wants to take both the woman and her dad to his place to care for them. I’ll help out when I can. But that’s the plan.”
“I like that plan. Don’t you just love it when the stars line up or some shit like that? Anyway, there will be a cleanup crew there in about twenty minutes. They’ll say there was a buckled floorboard, and that will keep people from wandering where they’d be best not to. Also, the staff will arrive one at a time over the next thirty.” He thanked her. “Hang on a second. I’m looking into something. My oh my.”
Thatcher put his phone on speakerphone when Rogen asked him to.
“If this is about my mate or her dad, I don’t want to know. Not yet, at any rate.” She told him it might be important. “All right. But just the important parts. Nothing personal.”
“Caitlynn Leary is a grad from law school. Gave it all up to come to the States to be with her dad when he needed her about six months ago. Apparently, Shawn Leary has been having some kind of nightmare episodes for some time now. He fought in a couple of skirmishes back in Ireland and came to the States to start fresh when his wife was killed in an automobile accident about three years ago.” Dawson asked her if this was considered important. “It is. Shawn is said to have murdered his wife and their unborn child and fled here to not just get a fresh start but to avoid prison. I’ll look into that too. Also, you should know, Dawson, that the restaurant is about a week from closing down. Not that there isn’t enough money—there is, but only barely—but a corporation has decided that the land would be better suited to their needs than the needs of having a hardy meal. Shawn apparently gives meals to anyone that comes in that needs one. They pay it off by doing dishes or something along those lines. It’s made him a very popular person in that little town. I think I’m going to like this man.”
“Me too.”
The bell at the front of the place dinged, and Dawson went to answer it. Thatcher got up to start cooking after dragging Shawn to the other side of the kitchen. Rogen asked him to talk to her through their link.
All right. Two things you should know about Shawn and Caitlynn. First of all, Caitlynn is a hell of an attorney. She is currently taking some classes here to update her on Ohio laws. She’s an international attorney and could fit well within our little circle. Also, Shawn was a surgeon while in Ireland. After his wife was killed, he just couldn’t do it anymore. I think he might need his ass kicked back into gear. Shawn also speaks four languages, including Gaelic. Caitlynn speaks six. He asked her why she’d not been able to tell him that on the phone. I thought when I heard the door ding that you might be needing both your hands. I forgot that your mom made sure you guys could cook.
Dawson said he had a two-top that wanted to look over the menu. He handed him one of them so he’d know what to cook with each meal. Making sure he had all the things he might need for breakfast, he was surprised and charmed that there was a large pot of Irish oatmeal on a low burner.
She wanted to make sure we could survive on more than just fast food. There is something very nice about this menu, Rogen. Like Shawn decided he would cook the things he loved and fuck the rest of the norm. Irish oatmeal. There is quick toast here too. Mom used to make that when she had stale bread. Butter it up and put it in a skillet to warm it up. She said she thought she made that for the grandkids. More than likely. Did you know that Mom is making sure that the grandkids can cook things? I love it.
When Dawson brought back his order, he told him that the crew was there to clean up. Telling Rogen, he also told her that he had to go. Cooking required concentration. Enjoying himself for the first time since being called out yesterday, Thatcher decided he might just figure out a way to get this sort of cooking in town. He thought that if no one else would enjoy it, he certainly would. Thatcher thought his dad might as well. Whistling as he worked the grill, he was shocked to his very core when Caitlynn spoke behind him.
“What the bloody hell is going on here?”
~*~
Caitlynn didn’t know what to think about the two men working with her, but she decided they were much too busy to worry over it now. Thatcher was doing a good job of keeping up with things, and Dawson was making sure the cash register was covered, as well as the breakfast bar that the regulars came in to be seated at. He was also having a wonderful time.
Her da was still lying on the floor in the kitchen. She was sure there was something going on with that, but for now, she didn’t want to know. The amount of blood in front of the sinks was scary to her, and she decided she didn’t want to look into it too deeply right now.
“Do you know what bubble and squeak is?” She stared at Thatcher when he asked her. “I could look it up, but I have a feeling your dad didn’t go by any kind of recipe when it came to cooking back here. There are all kinds of things in his walk-in that make me think that he got what was on sale and made up his menu from that.”
“You Americans call it fried potatoes. Cut the ones leftover in the icebox into small bits and fry them up.” He thanked her. “There is fresh marmalade in the icebox too. What the hell is going on here? You’re not a cook, are you?”
“I am right now. And there is a great deal going on that will take some time to tell you about. I will. And so will Dawson. But for now, I think we need to get this place fixed up, so the people aren’t too suspicious about things.” She didn’t move, wondering if she should press the matter more. “I promise you, Caitlynn, we’re going to tell you everything. I’m sure you have a great many questions. We’ll get to those as well.”
The blood on her shirt was something she kept coming back to. A large apron that her da usually wore was covering it up. Dawson had put ketchup on it too to make it look more like that sort of stain than blood. Caitlynn remembered being shot and wondered why she wasn’t in more pain. Or dead, for that matter.
The breakfast crowd was served up faster than ever with the extra hands. Thatcher was doing a great job of putting out the food. Dawson was amazing at waiting tables, making coffee, and making sure that everyone had what they needed. While there was a couple of seconds between customers, he was making sure all the salt and pepper shakers were filled, as well as the little bowls of sugar packets.
It was like having three extra people with him around, rather than just him.
Other people began to show up as they dealt with the crowd. Two of them went to the kitchen to help Thatcher with not just cleaning the pots and pans but to clear up the blood on the floor. Three more of them began taking tables to wait on and worked like they’d been doing it here for years. Caitlynn had a chance to sit down with a hot cup of tea when she was shoved into a seat. Dawson sat across from her.
“I don’t know if I like you overly much. You’re not only a better waitstaff than me, but you seem to be enjoying yourself too much.” He grinned, and she felt her heart do a little flip flop. “You here to tell me what is happening?”
“I will answer anything you wish to know. Your accent is not as pronounced as it was when we first arrived.” She told him the reason for that was that when she was upset, it came out stronger. And people expected her to have an accent when she was waiting on them. “Oh, well, that’s sad. I like it. It suits you to have a fiery temper along with all that red hair. And the freckles are about the cutest thing I’ve seen.”
“Behave, you idiot, before I smack you.” He laughed, and she grinned in response. “I was shot. What happened that I’m not hurting at all. And so you know, I’ve looked—there isn’t a wound or anything to be found either.”
“Do you want this right upfront or working up to it? I can do either way.” She said she liked her information like she liked her whiskey, straight up. “Good. When you were shot, it didn’t look like you were going to make it. So I changed you into a cat. A tiger, to be exact. Thatcher changed your father into one too when he went into the kitchen and slit his wrists. It was touch and go there for a while for—”
“Back up. What do you mean, you’ve changed me into a cat? I’m not a cat.” He only stared at her as he sipped his own tea. “Let me think on that a moment. So, you saved my life by changing me into a tiger. And my da too. Okay, I guess I don’t mind that so much. So you’re a shifter. I don’t know many of them, to be honest.”
Jonas: Robinson Destruction – Paranormal Tiger Shifter Romance Page 11