by R. J. Blain
“He’s watching you, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m headed for the lobby of the hotel, and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
Arguing with the lion wouldn’t do any good, so I headed for the hotel down the street, moving with a purpose but being careful not to check over my shoulder. I went to the nearest crosswalk, pressed the button to cross the street, and checked all ways, spotting Loureni observing me from the steps of his office building. “He is definitely checking me out. I’m crossing the street, but he came out of the building to see where I’m going from the looks of it.”
“Exactly what we want. Good. That matches what we know of him so far. What was his behavior like in the coffee shop?”
“He was definitely making sure everybody there liked him. He’s charismatic. He’s almost as handsome as you are, too. There is zero reason for him to have trouble meeting women.”
That earned me a growl. “Wells.”
“Sir,” I purred at him.
“You’re an evil lynx, and I’m going to love rewarding you for that later.”
I would have an epic tombstone, as I’d goad the lion into killing me through his private displays of affection. The light changed, and I crossed the street, using a shield of Chicagoans to make sure I didn’t end up smacked by a vehicle. Once on the safety of the street, I adopted a brisk stride, a match for the locals who had somewhere to be in a hurry. In some ways, it reminded me of the one time I’d gone to New York City.
Everybody had somewhere to be, and they took shit from nobody.
So far, I liked Chicago, although it amazed me anybody survived its traffic and maze of underground streets.
Several more street crossings, and I reached the hotel, striding inside and hanging up on Sebastian when I caught sight of him. “I demand a purification ritual,” I announced.
“Our first spa treatment is in two hours, and I may have called in room service for us before leaving to meet you here.”
“You are a most useful lion. I ate cookies, muffins, and coffee all day today.”
“You might wilt away on me if I don’t properly feed you.”
I grinned at that. “What do you have for me?”
“Additional suspects, which means trouble in some ways.” Sebastian linked his arm with mine and dragged me towards the elevator. “He didn’t follow you?”
“No, and nobody who was with him in the lobby followed me. I would have warned you if someone had. I did use some Chicagoans as body shields crossing the street, though. People are crazy here. This is almost as bad as New York. Almost. Maybe worse? They don’t have underground roads in New York.”
“Chicago is a strange and mysterious place, defying the natural course of the seasons. It doesn’t have seasons. It has winter, and every other season is dedicated to the rearranging of the city and its streets in new, creative, and unusual ways.”
“I see you have been to Chicago before.”
“I used to live here. I moved after discovering winter is like the rest of the year but there is snow getting in the way of the construction. I was going to go insane. I went to Minnesota for a while after that, and from Minnesota, I tried Florida. Sunning myself on the beach was nice, but the weather was less than ideal, and the insurance is lethal when you actually expect them to fix your house once it gets assaulted by a hurricane. I lasted two hurricane seasons before I decided yearly rebuilds weren’t for me.”
“You had a beach house, didn’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“At least tell me you evacuated.”
“Why would I evacuate?” He smirked at my glare. “I evacuated slightly inland. I’m a lion. I live for the thrill of the chase. My first hurricane, I rode it out as close to the water as I dared and enjoyed the show. I got a couple of scratches, but I emerged just fine. The second one, I went further inland, but it was a doozy, and I had to do a lot of rebuilding work on the house. The third one wiped the house right out, but I rebuilt it to be a lot tougher, so it survived the rest of the storms. I built it so well I made a hefty profit on the property when I got tired of fighting the weather and left.”
“You are a wealthy lion, apparently. I hadn’t known I was going gold digging when I went lion hunting. I’m a very naughty lynx. Who knew?”
“You, me, and anyone who knows you?”
I purred. “Except my family. They’re determined to believe I’m a pure innocent.”
“Judging from the hopelessness on your father’s face when he tried to explain to me how to secure grandkittens for himself, yes. I’m not sure he even believed, despite the tell-tale scents, you’re no longer a virgin. The way he was talking, he believes you’re still a virgin.”
“I love my daddy, but he’s an idiot. But that makes me really happy we didn’t indulge in his truck now. If we had, I might not have a daddy anymore, and that would make me so terribly sad.” Worse, it hadn’t occurred to me my family believed me to be that hopeless.
“Even if we had, I think your daddy thinks you are so pure, reclusive, and shy he would believe he’d imagined such a smell in his truck. I almost laughed in his face. It took everything in me not to laugh in his face while I got lectured over the delicate, fragile state of his daughter. He apologized to me. Repeatedly. Over your fragile and delicate state.”
I bit my lip, as I didn’t want to laugh at my father—or at Sebastian for having to put up with my father at his worst. “He couldn’t have possibly been talking about me.” When we got into the elevator, Sebastian pressed the button for the top floor. “How did we even get such a great room, anyway?”
“The CDC has on-going bookings in most cities for emergencies and work like this. They moved the folks in our room to an equally swanky place elsewhere in the city. In exchange for always leaving this room available for the CDC’s use, the hotel gets some significant reductions on their taxes and some favoritism with the government. And since it’s their room and we’re doing their dirty work, we aren’t being charged anything other than room service and the spa fees. Honestly, the only reason we’re paying for those is because I insisted, as I wanted to be the one gifting you with the luxuries. And after I got off the phone with them a little earlier today, I expect we won’t be paying anything, even though I protested and wanted to treat you to a good time.”
Once on our floor, I raised a brow and regarded Sebastian with interest. “All you have to do to treat me to a good time is take your clothes off.”
“How should we break it to your family that you’re neither pure nor innocent?”
“We could lure one of the assholes I have to kill off to the front yard and indulge in a murder. I can show them how I got my name.”
“It’s rude to kill people where kittens might see it, Harri.”
I huffed. “They’re lynx kittens. The only thing that scares those little devils is my face. And we’re fixing that. Within the next two weeks, if everything works out to my satisfaction.”
“You want to have the operation immediately?”
“Tank my virus, Mr. Sebastian Sumners. Tank my virus so hard it’s the easiest scar removal operation for a lycanthrope they’ve ever performed. She’ll like it, promise. So will I. We’re easy to please.”
Sebastian laughed all the way to our room and let us in. A bouquet of roses waited on the entry stand, a new addition since I’d left in the morning. “Yes, those are for you. There’s catnip among the roses.”
I had special needs, and Sebastian understood them. Purring, I went to investigate the bouquet, burying my nose in the bright red blossoms and breathing in. Sure enough, I smelled catnip—the good stuff. “I’m going to be so stoned during the spa treatments, aren’t I?”
“We’re having facials done, and I’m taking you to them while you’re stoned on catnip. This place offers bribes to well-behaved lycanthropes, and since it’s significantly more expensive than the place in Cincinnati, I want to see if the bribes are better.”
&n
bsp; “How the hell is this spa going to give better bribes? The other spa gave some really nice stuff.” Thanks to the other spa’s offerings and what I’d purchased, I doubted I’d need anything for bathing for a full year. “I will be the best behaved lynx on the planet.”
“I will even pretend you’re the best behaved lynx on the planet. Just try not to get upset if somebody grimaces. I did warn them, but I’ve learned people just don’t believe me when it comes to how scarred you are.”
“I’d say it’s okay, but then I’d be lying.” I shrugged, taking another deep breath of the flowers. “I really like these. Thank you.”
I wouldn’t tell him he was the first person to ever give me flowers that hadn’t been picked out of the yard. Once he went to bed for the night, I’d take the bouquet downstairs and find out if there was a way to preserve them.
I didn’t want to see a single blossom fade.
“I’m glad you like them. You’re welcome.”
“What do we have on Loureni?” I lugged my work crap to the sitting room, which we’d set up to be our primary workspace despite the suite having an office and a proper dining room with a table. “If I wasn’t aware of why he found me interesting, I would have assumed he was just curious.”
“Loureni has a brother, and I’m of the opinion the brother is the likely mastermind and killer and that Stefan Loureni is the grab man. Kenard is older than Stefan by three years. I asked the CDC and FBI to pull files from all members of the Loureni family, and then I had them do a search of all immediate family, and we found something interesting about Kenard’s wife. She was in a serious car accident that resulted in the loss of their unborn child. She had several organs removed due to trauma. Shortly after the child was supposed to be born, she disappeared. Kenard claims they were separating, she left him, and she went missing for several years before she showed up long enough to file for divorce. However, I use the term ‘show’ loosely. Documentation with the appropriate signatures made an appearance, but she was never seen. It was all done remotely and through the mail.”
Hello, red flags. “And nobody investigated that sooner?”
“Kenard wasn’t viewed as a suspect, as he doesn’t have any direct connections to the missing women. My request created some problems, but then I pointed out that Kenard—and all of the Loureni family—is connected to the killings through Stefan. When viewed in that light, they decided to cooperate. It took them all of an hour to locate the disturbing coincidences.”
“Let me guess. The organs of the missing women are the same as his wife’s.”
“How did you guess?”
“It seemed pretty obvious to me when you laid out the background and why you think Kenard is involved. But why take those organs?”
“I suggested that Kenard had his missing ex-wife alive somewhere and was trying to find suitable organs for transplant.”
I sat on the couch and stared at him. “Say what?”
“The FBI agent I spoke to started cursing at me when I made the suggestion, and then he hung up on me. Ten minutes later, he called me back with a list of fugitives who could handle such a transplant, odds of survival, odds of success, and so on.”
“But what about the babies?”
“Here’s where things get creepier.”
“You mean creepier beyond the one woman, one child theory?”
“Oh, that’s still in play, and yes, that’s part of why this gets creepier.”
I inhaled. “Okay. I’m ready. Hit me with it.”
“I had all known medical records for Stefan pulled, and after the investigators went through everything with a fine-toothed comb, they came to one possible explanation for why the brothers would be working together. There’s a high possibility Stefan is infertile. So, as his brother wants scarred women who might be the match for his wife—or more importantly, their organs, it’s possible that Stefan is having his brother give him the born children to maintain his appearance while getting rid of any children that don’t meet his standards for the picture-perfect family. Upon further digging, the CDC does believe Stefan is seeing a woman. The CDC interviewed competitors who have worked with Stefan, and he has brought a girlfriend with him several times—the same woman. She was described as the perfect trophy wife, sophisticated, gorgeous, well-mannered, and apparently deeply in love with Stefan, and Stefan also played that part well. Everyone interviewed seems to believe they have a genuine relationship. What we don’t know is if the board of his work is aware of this partnership or not. The CDC doesn’t want to tip Stefan off that he’s being investigated.”
“So, we’re up to three people involved potentially?”
“Right. The woman is an issue. She is related to a fairly noteworthy Washington politician, the kind of man who’d want to bury any scandals. We could approach the politician, but if he is involved, it would create quite the issue.”
“If he’s involved, and he gives up all of the information, I won’t stab him ruthlessly in the face for being an accomplice, but that’s the best I’m offering him,” I replied.
“Yeah. Nobody involved would be lenient against this politician if he is involved,” I guessed.
“So, a new part of your job is to, if possible, find out if the politician is involved.”
“Can I stab the politician if he is involved?”
“Unfortunately, we can’t assassinate the politician. I asked. I asked several times if they were really sure. The politician is to be left alone unless you catch him in the act. If you’re grabbed like we expect you to be, and he’s present where you’re being held hostage, you will be expected to use lethal force.”
I eyed my left arm, which had one of the two microchips the CDC had installed along with some fancy device that monitored for exposure to pixie dust and other nasty substances, a little add-on Sebastian had coerced me into accepting for a bribe to be revealed at a later date and time.
The other microchip had been installed in my back, disconcertingly close to my spine, a place most wouldn’t think to check for one if they checked. Most didn’t bother checking, as most sentients abhorred and loathed the idea of being microchipped.
In two or three weeks, all three devices would be checked, and if they impaired me, they would be removed. “If I have to stay microchipped, you have to be microchipped. And I will gloat over you while you have it done.”
“I wasn’t gloating over you. I was pleased you would be as absolutely safe as the CDC could make you on what could be a very dangerous job.” Sebastian shrugged. “Maybe I gloated a little, as you actually let me get away with that without making any demands. I won that one.”
“Only an idiot would refuse to be microchipped and monitored when taking out a serial killer. I have zero desire to end my life being a stupid idiot. But you promised a reward, and you have taught me I don’t need to tack on extra rewards to my rewards, so I best be getting a very nice reward.”
“Maybe I didn’t win that one after all.” Sebastian joined me on the couch, reached for his laptop, and typed away on it, bringing up a photo of a man with striking similarities to my target. “This is Kenard.” He pulled up a picture of a scarred woman, and while I had more scars, hers were almost as severe as mine. No wonder Stefan had stared at me so much.
I could have been her sister, right down to my breast size and general build. I whistled. “He must have felt like he’d seen a ghost. If my parents have more girls, one of them might look like her. Please tell me she’s not related to my mother.”
“We’re looking into that, because that level of resemblance is disturbing enough it’s worth a look. Perhaps a distant cousin? Or she’s one of your doppelgängers. I’d believe it. I’ve loved you for years, and I did a double-take when I first saw her picture. We have no idea what they’ll do, but the CDC and FBI are agreed this puts you at even more risk. They aren’t sure if this will encourage or discourage them from killing you.”
“They might want me to replace her.” I’d dealt with a lot of
violent men over the years, but I’d never dealt with someone who might be suffering from such an extreme form of psychosis. “But why would Stefan participate?”
“He gets the perfect child out of it. My bet is they’ll have a wedding and the child will be ‘conceived’ during their wedding night. This would look good for him. Maybe Stefan hadn’t found the perfect woman for the plan—or Kenard wanted the children. We just don’t know.”
“Or they get married and ‘adopt’ one of the children. Adoption is a good way to solidify someone’s reputation. Then they could have more children later, and Stefan’s woman plays at being pregnant while the victim is the one actually pregnant.” I shuddered at the thought someone might try such a scheme—and that someone had murdered so many woman to do it. “How much proof do I need to acquire?”
“If they dose you with any grade of pixie dust and make a grab, your job is to survive, make sure you have your ‘prescriptions’ in your purse, and hope they actually want you alive. You’ll be tracked, and we’ll be able to see what they do to your purse, your clothes, and you. We have a backup team ready, and a helpful FBI agent wired your Corvette so I can run sirens and lights if needed.”
“You can do that?”
“When you’re issued a special permit, yes. There’s also a special radio in the car temporarily, and I’ve been taught how to monitor and use the channels if you are taken. That’ll hook me into the FBI network, and through them, the rest of law enforcement. And yes, your Corvette will be covered if it’s damaged during the operation.”
“Do you think the politician is involved?”
“No. He’d be a complete and total idiot to involve himself with a serial killer. But we’ll find out soon enough.”
“We will?”
“The instant you’re grabbed, if you’re grabbed, Federal investigators will be showing up at his door with a warrant for information on the woman and his relationship with her. If he’s smart, he’ll verify his innocence through an angel. And if he’s not? We’ll know there’s a reason why.”