Secrets

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Secrets Page 9

by Dana Lyons


  Nothing is safe, nowhere is private.

  What do we do?

  Follow my lead. “Hey, it’s okay, mister. I’m an animal trainer. These are my animals. This is Simon.” He stood with a half snarl, but wrapped his tail around his front feet like a statue.

  “And the wolf is Quinn.” Quinn jumped up and sat back on his haunches, tongue lolling. Dreya looked away to keep from laughing. “So, you see, there’s no problem here. But thanks for your concern.”

  “Oh, okay.” He backed up, eyes huge with skepticism, but turned and walked off.

  Dreya whistled a sigh of relief, grateful they were in animal form and not laying here naked in the sun. She got up and traipsed through the trees, making sure the man had driven away. They dressed and she checked her watch. “Well, time to go, anyhow.” They got into her car with one thought common in everyone’s mind.

  That was close.

  * * *

  After expecting a wealth of family life video with Dreya and Rhys, the dark-haired man, Martin was disappointed to see them leave for the day.

  With free time, he went downstairs to begin preparations. Half of the large basement area was the garage, and the other half, where the bookcase led to the tunnel system, was separate from the garage behind a cinderblock wall.

  He’d brought home a half-load of brick and had to carry the brick up the garage stairs into the house, and then down a separate set of stairs to the room with the bookcase.

  He gathered his materials in the tunnel behind the bookcase, took measurements and mixed the mortar. Carefully laying the brick, he closed up the tunnel leading away from the house. What remained when he finished was a room to nowhere hidden behind a bookcase.

  Outside the bookcase, he placed all his tools into lockable tubs. He set up a new air mattress, and added new linens he’d washed. He smoothed the sheets, hoping they were nice enough for her.

  She’ll kick your ass like she did the man in the bar.

  “Maybe,” he answered. “Maybe not. She’s different, really different.”

  He plugged in a mini-refrigerator and checked the inventory of water, juice and soda. He didn’t think she drank soda, but he put a couple cans in just in case. The adjoining bathroom with sink and toilet was stocked with fluffy towels, sweet smelling soap, and toilet paper. “Lavender. She’ll like lavender.”

  A small battery powered lamp went on the bedside table. When everything was ready, he stretched out on the bed to leave the impression of his head on the pillow for when she lay down.

  “She’ll see, I can tell. She’ll be the one to see me, finally. Because she’s special, she’s different.”

  How so?

  “Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He remained still, thinking, until the only words he could believe in came out. “She’s different like me.” He smoothed his hand over the bed, hoping she’d be comfortable for her stay with him.

  What happens after that?

  The question had been lurking in his mind. Once the previous question was answered a new vista arrived, so being ready for the next step was imperative. “What happens after she says the words?”

  He got up from the bed and stepped back, pleased to see his impression on the covers. “After she says the words, nothing else is important.”

  * * *

  Dreya, Rhys, Quinn, and Simon entered her apartment. She was sunburned, and they were all exhausted.

  “Wiped out,” Rhys said.

  “Me, too,” Simon and Quinn chorused.

  She ducked into the shower and rinsed off, putting aloe gel on her chest and face. She examined her face, never knowing when her eyes might change in some new freaky way. But they were still filled with the same light reflecting silver streaks. At last they climbed into bed, claiming their spots.

  Simon started purring; Quinn made a few floppy cheek noises as he shifted onto his back; Rhys took his place on the headboard and immediately tucked his head.

  Their minds were at peace, their human emotions spent in the expression of their animal DNA. No frustration, no angst, no worry, no pain, for they’d released their egos while in the air and on the ground. She steeped in the ultimate peace found through their presence.

  * * *

  “There you are,” Martin said the next morning as he gazed at the camera feed. “And I see someone got a sunburn.” It was early, but he was up and ready to go having called in sick the night before. “Got all day to get answers. Where do you go when you leave home, and what do you do?”

  The GPS tracker on the one vehicle gave him a location, but no details of what they did there. For this information, he had to follow in person.

  Wearing a black wig and shades, he climbed into the Prius and drove to her apartment, parked down the street and waited for them to leave. When the car drove by, arriving with two of the men, he checked the time. “Very punctual.” Rhys took the driver’s seat and everyone got in.

  He followed them from several cars back. Within a few blocks, they stopped at a coffee shop. “7:30. They stop here for something a little fancier to carry into the office.” He drove by, noticing the man with the long blond hair walking in while the others remained in the car. While he drove around the block, an idea began to form. On his last pass by the coffee shop, he saw the man come out carrying a tray of drinks.

  Martin spotted what he needed to collect more data to flesh out his idea. The next morning, he rose extra early for work and stopped by the darkened coffee shop at 3:30 A.M.

  On a street pole, he positioned a small camera, and quickly laser sighted it on the spot marked for police parking. The camera was already tied into the coffee shop wifi where the feed would bounce up the street from one public wifi to another, ending at a receiver he had set up underground on his route.

  Now he’d discover when she went in to get the coffee.

  Getting her alone is going to be tricky.

  8

  Two Weeks Later

  Dreya stared at the board and all the victim’s faces that supposedly looked so much like her. “The word just came from Jarvis,” she said. “They’re going to cold file this case.”

  Rhys, Quinn, and Simon joined her. That invincible feeling washed over her in a wave, a sensation that always came when they had her back.

  “I don’t like it,” Quinn said.

  “I know,” she said. “He’s free to kill again.”

  Simon shook his head with disgust. “Every blonde in the city has a target on her back. You’re taking you profile down, right?”

  “I guess there’s no reason to leave it up. Does that mean I’m off detail?”

  “No,” they answered at once.

  She removed the photos from the board reluctantly, feeling like she was giving up on these victims. Even more reprehensible was giving up on the next victim before the fact. “I hate this,” she muttered.

  “There’s only so much you can do,” Rhys said, as they boxed everything up.

  “I know, but tell that to the next victim. I’m going to report to Jarvis.”

  At his door, she knocked and he waved her in. He had his desk phone pressed to one ear, a finger in his other ear. He gave a comedic grimace and jutted his chin toward the chair.

  She waited calmly, trying not to listen, fading away in her own thoughts, hoping he would approve her request.

  “Yes, Senator Stanton, I appreciate your efforts. I will pass that on. Yes, sir. Thank you.” He hung up the phone, looking as though he had a sour peach pit in his mouth. She glanced down in order to hide her grin.

  “The senator sends his best,” Jarvis said.

  In spite of Jarvis’ expression, the Stanton name was enough to catch her breath in her throat, leading to only one thought—

  Lazar!

  She turned her gaze up cautiously, fearing Dr. Lazar was on Jarvis’ lips. But Jarvis was over the senator and moving on.

  “What’s your final on this case?” He waved away her reference to her report before she could get the
words out. “I read your report. I want to know what you think, meaning you and your synergistic team.”

  “I don’t think he’s stopped. Unfortunately, we have nothing until he kills again and makes a mistake.” She shrugged. “Until he gets what he wants, until he screws up, until he dies, he’ll continue killing.”

  “Are you pulling your profile from the dating site?”

  “Yes.” She licked her lips and blurted, “I’d like to take a week off. We need to house hunt.”

  He removed his glasses and leaned forward, alarm spreading across his face. “You never take time off. Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “Nothing more than looking for a place to live.” His face was schooled back into neutrality, but a hint of smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. She couldn’t tell if he was testing her, or laughing at her. But the thought of him testing her emerging state of Nobility made her mouth run dry. “Everyone on the team, all want their own space. It’s become an issue.”

  The issue is where can they run free safely?

  “It’s been a chaotic three cases back to back,” she added. He nodded slowly. She thought he was ready to say yes.

  “Take the week. When you get back, I’m sending you and your team out of town.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Where?”

  “I can’t say yet. Something is developing. But take your week.” He put his glasses on. “Let me know how the house hunting turns out.”

  * * *

  Dreya stared at the well-manicured fenced backyard of the rental property they were touring with Melissa.

  This is not going to fix my problem.

  Behind her, Rhys, Quinn, and Simon were stacked up. She didn’t need to see their dismal expressions, she could feel them, no telepathy required.

  Melissa glanced from face to face. “Not big enough?”

  “Again,” Simon grumbled.

  “You’re asking for the impossible,” she defended. “But, I’ll find another property to show you.”

  Dreya put up her hand to stop Melissa. “I think we’ve seen enough for today. But thank you.” She put her sunglasses back on, hoping the real estate agent didn’t break out in tears.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Melissa objected. She confirmed Dreya’s suspicions with a sniff.

  That evening at dinner, laughter was scarce. Dreya collected the dishes and placed them in the sink. “It’s not so bad.”

  Three expressions saying ‘How-do-you-figure?’ turned her way. She shrugged. “I’m done looking at backyards, so let’s go to Big Woods tomorrow, and we’ll figure something out.”

  The next morning, they woke early with rampant excitement.

  “Going to fly,” Rhys said, shaking his shoulders.

  “Can’t catch me,” Quinn bragged, poking Simon in the arm.

  “Second place lets me nip at your heels,” Simon teased.

  They ate fast food along the way since no one wanted to lose ‘free’ time. When they pulled up to the entry gate, anticipation peaked. “Hi,” Dreya said to the gatekeeper. “Remember us?”

  The woman bent down and peered past Rhys at the passengers. “How could I forget.” She made a show of marking a map with red slash marks across the remote areas. “The last time you were here, a cougar and a wolf were sighted, so the rangers want the public to stay clear of the indicated areas.” She thrust the map through the window. “Have a good time.”

  Rhys drove off with his lips clamped together. Simon crossed his arms in a huff; Quinn stared out the window.

  Dreya sighed.

  To deny animal expression will turn the human bitter. I have to find a way to work this out.

  Rhys drove to the farthest side of the forest and pulled into dense trees. After parking, he went back and covered their tracks from the road.

  Simon and Quinn stared at the forest as if it were out of reach. The longing to run bombarded her. “Don’t worry about what the woman at the gate said. We’re here for you to have fun. So chin up, shorts down, and go express yourself.”

  Slowly the grins came back, the shoes came off, and the clothes dropped to the ground. As they leaped and bounded and flew away, she reminded, No contact!

  She found a sunny place under a tree and pulled out a book. After reading the same paragraph a half dozen times, she gave up, putting her head back and closed her eyes. The pungent smell of pine filled the air, the sun warm on her face.

  Whenever she relaxed, her mind always went to Lazar. Where was he? What was he doing? Had he created other humans like them? She shifted her focus to the telepathy and opened channels in her mind.

  Rhys perched atop the highest tree he could find. She pressed on her eyeballs to repel his bird vision. Quinn collapsed in a bed of pine needles, breathing hard from a long run. Simon stretched out on a heavy branch with a view of the opposite hillside.

  This connection created a bond she never dreamed existed. She was never alone, as Rhys predicted, and she didn’t mind. Alone was repugnant now; she condemned her old solitude and never wanted to see it again.

  The people on the dating site are not me. I’m not them. For that, I thank Lazar.

  She would never be alone, never be lonely; the thought was a great comfort.

  My pack will always be with me.

  Gradually they returned. She felt them in her mind before the crunch of needles and the release of pine scent announced their approach. She felt a draft of wind on her face and opened one eye. Rhys landed next to her; she stroked his sleek wings.

  Simon nosed under her other hand and she scratched his head. Quinn butted in and she rubbed his ears. They were a handful, but they knew and understood her like no one else could.

  By week’s end they were still without a housing option. With Rhys standing beside her, she brushed her hair in the bathroom. “We’re getting a new case tomorrow. Jarvis gave me a heads up before we took off.”

  She plucked out her contacts and rubbed her eyeballs. “Oh, it feels so good to take those out.” She glared in the mirror, loving Nobility, but hating the contact lenses.

  “Don’t frown like that, you’ll get lines,” he admonished. “What do you know about this new case?”

  “Only that it was something developing and it’s out of town. He didn’t say where or for how long.”

  He kissed her shoulder. “Good thing we don’t have pets.”

  * * *

  Martin had gotten pretty good at reading lips from all the video he watched. He followed along as he focused on Dreya’s beautiful lips that would say the words. When his stunned mind comprehended what she was saying, he shouted, “No. I can’t lose you now!” He pounded his fist on the desk and roared at the heavens. “Just when I’ve found her, you want to take her away?”

  He jumped up from the chair, resisting the urge to sweep all three monitors off the desk. “No no no no, this can’t be happening.” Anger and disappointment rose, taking his breath and swallowing his hope. Behind this came panic to shred all his well laid plans.

  “She’s supposed to be my second chance. You can’t take her from me now,” he moaned. The bed and nice linens, the lavender in the bathroom, all for her—

  His breath came to a stop. In a moment of utter stillness and clarity, he saw his single opportunity slipping away. His one chance to hear the words, to know the feeling of being loved. “She can’t leave. Not until I hear the words.”

  He paced slowly this time, doing an inventory of all the pieces he needed. Gradually, what he knew about her came together in a new plan, a plan he could put in motion … tomorrow.

  “This is just God telling me to get started.”

  * * *

  Checking his watch, Martin loitered outside the coffee shop keeping a phone at his ear. He dressed as a college student with a backpack, cargo jeans, a worn tee-shirt and a NYC cap over a shaggy blond wig. He expected to be acutely nervous, but he was oddly calm, seeing the plan unfold before his eyes. He had all the pieces, but he needed her to walk
through the door.

  Their car pulled up and parked. He positioned himself near the door, and used the reflection in the glass front to watch. A car door opened, and the one with the long blonde hair got out.

  “Come on, Dreya, get out of the car,” he mumbled and held his breath.

  “Simon,” she shouted. The man waited while she got out.

  “That’s my girl,” Martin said. Seeing her coming, he went in and got in line in front of them. When he had a tray of iced beverages, he stepped aside, pretending to collect straws and napkins. When they walked past him, the man was carrying their tray.

  Now!

  He got behind her and fell into her back, spilling the drinks all over her.

  “Oh!” she screeched.

  On his knees with the empty tray, he cried, “I’m so sorry, I tripped.” He stood as she pulled the wet shirt from her body. Soda drenched her back and her hair.

  Good.

  “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he pleaded. He grabbed a clean towel from one of the employees and passed it to her. “I tripped; it was an accident.”

  She took the towel, barely glancing at him. She stepped, and her shoe squished.

  Good.

  “Really, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t mean to,” she mumbled. “Come on, Simon, let’s go. I have to go home and shower.” The blonde man glared at Martin.

  He’s going to hit me, Martin thought and braced for the impact. But the one called Simon turned aside and escorted Dreya out the door.

  Martin ducked his head, feigning embarrassment and went out the side door. He got in his Prius, his heart pounding with adrenaline now that the first part of his plan was successful.

  He drove to where he parked his van nearby and exchanged vehicles. Inside the van he changed clothes, checked the tranquilizer gun, and pulled out a new decal, ‘City Wide Delivery’ and attached it on the side of the van.

 

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