Furred Lines

by Renee George

  I wanted to be indignant, but chances were good he was right about the piece of metal being trash and us being dumbasses, though I didn’t think there was any way we were the biggest on earth. “Dad...”

  He held up his hand. “I should haul both of your asses into jail for breaking and entering, criminal trespass, and a half a dozen more charges I’ll think of on the way to the station.”

  “But you won’t,” I said hopefully.

  My Dad’s penetrating gaze made me squirm. “No. I won’t.” He walked around the back of the couch and put his hand on my head. “I’m really mad at you right now, Nicole.” With a quick pat, he strolled down the hall to his home office, the room right before the guest bedroom.

  My mom shook her head at me. “That man adores you, Nicole. You need to stop lying to him.”

  “I know, Mom. I’m sorry.” God, I was gutted. The look on my dad’s face when he’d walked away had reflected the displeasure I saw in my mom’s expression.

  “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” She placed the ice pack on my ankle. “Don’t take too long to think about it.” And with that final admonishment, Mom went back to the kitchen, leaving Dom and me alone.

  He pursed his lips in a frown. “Sorry.” He drew his shoulders up in a partial shrug.

  “You left me looking like the jerk.” I pointed at him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell him the stair story?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Because I was a coward, who didn’t want to lie to my dad. And now I felt like an asshole for asking Dom to take the heat I deserved. Maybe my parents treated me like I was 12 years old because I was acting like it.

  “Look, Nic, I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him,” Dom said, clear exasperation in his voice. “I freaking like you, okay? I don’t want to get on the wrong foot with your father.”

  “Too late for that. You and I are in the same boat on shit’s creek.”

  “I’m not talking about parental ire.”

  “I know. We...we can’t,” I told him half-heartedly. “We are partners. It’s against the FBI policy on fraternization.”

  Dom knelt down next to me. “We’ve already broken a dozen rules. What’s one more?” He cupped my chin and kissed me. A zing of exhilaration zipped through me as his tongue wet my parted lips. I leaned into the kiss, my hands encircling his neck as I opened for him, inviting the invasion. Dom moaned as his large arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled my chest against his. God, his body temperature warmed me to the bone.

  And speaking of bone, my hip brushed against his groin, and the thick bulge was hard as a rock. I squirmed, only hurting my ankle twice, as I maneuvered to wrap my legs around his waist.

  “Nicole. Rae. Taylor,” snapped my mother.

  I yelped as I pushed Dominic away from me and his body hit my foot. I swung my feet back up on the couch and put the ice pack on my injury and pretended my mom had not just walked in on my trying to dry hump my partner.

  Dom looked dazed like the cat seduced by the canary.

  “Look here, Smokey and the Bandit.” Mom snapped her fingers. “The Judge and Judy are going to be here any minute. You need to stop acting like two lovesick teenagers who have discovered their bodies for the first time.”

  My cheeks flamed. “Mom!”

  “My apologies, Mrs. Taylor,” Dom said.

  I glared at him.

  I was beginning to think he needed to worry a lot less about what my parents thought of him and more about the fact that I was going to kill him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was already seven o’clock, and with Mom’s help, and at her insistence, I’d managed to get changed into a midnight blue blouse with a deeper vee than Mom liked, but it was one of my favorite shirts, and a pair black palazzo pants that were easy to get over my splinted ankle without causing any more damage. I wore my black tennis shoes tied loose on the right foot. The palazzo pants were wide enough to hide them.

  Mom also helped me with my hair, and by help, I mean she broke out the curling iron and her industrial size canister of hairspray. I hadn’t taken a curling iron to my hair since I’d set out for college. I had to put my foot down when she came at me with foundation and a makeup sponge, though I did acquiesce and put on a little blush, pale pink eyeshadow, and some rose-tinted lip gloss.

  “Good enough?” I asked.

  Mom looked me over, my foot elevated once again on the end of the couch. Her brow furrowed and she frowned. “You’ll do. The Holts will be here any minute. I hope your dad has at least changed his shirt.”

  My dad hadn’t come out of his office since he’d stormed out of the living room, and Dom had gone to shower, dress, and make a few phone calls.

  Mom sat down on the couch next to me. “You and Agent Tartan, huh?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I haven’t had a sudden case of amnesia, little girl. It wasn’t an hour ago, I walked in on the two you making out on this very couch.”

  “You know, Mom, short-term memory is often the first thing to go as you get old and infirmed.”

  “You’re awfully cheeky, girl. I’ll have you know that I am in the prime of my life.” Her lips upturned in a sly smile. “Your father has no complaints.”

  “Ewwww! Mom. Yuck. Yuck. Where do you keep the brain bleach?”

  Mom laughed. “Serves you right.” He brushed my hair back from my face. “You’re such a pretty girl, Nicole.”

  “Stop it now.”

  “And even if you can’t see it, that boy in the other room is smitten with you.”

  “What is this? The nineteen-hundreds?”

  Mom gave me a quick backhand to my shoulder.

  I laughed. “Child abuse!”

  “I’m going to put you in an orphanage.”

  “And I’m going to put you in a home.” It was an age-old banter between us.

  She laughed. “I love you, Puddin’. It’s nice to have you home.”

  “I love you back,” I said.

  She kissed my cheek. “I’ll stop grilling you about Dominic, but only because I have to get the roast out of the oven and finish the mashed potatoes.”

  “Dom!” I yelled since it was more expedient than walking. “Can you bring me the files? I want to look at them to see if we missed something. Or if something old clicks as something new.”

  “Just a minute,” he bellowed from the guest room. A few minutes later, he came into the living room. “Here you go. Sorry, I was on the phone with Resnik.”

  “Anything new out of Springfield?”

  “No. Lieberman’s wife has been calling Resnik for updates. She’s understandably upset,” he said. “I have her number. I’m going to give her a call in a little bit.”

  “But we don’t know anything new.” I took the files from him. “Damn it. Why don’t we have anything new?”

  “It’s the job,” Dom said. “Only messy killers get caught fast. Our guy isn’t messy.”

  “Except this time. I don’t understand why he’s different than the other victims. Why keep him this long?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it? Maybe talking to the wife, asking her some questions about their life, his work, his personalities, and habits, is the way to go. We know what he has in common with the other victims, maybe it’s time to look at the variances.”

  “The other three victims, two were married, the other in the process of divorcing. Maybe we should speak to their wives as well.”

  “It’s going to stir up old wounds.”

  I sighed. “I know, but I don’t think it can be helped.”

  “The second victim’s wife is human. She’s unaware of his therianthrope status.”

  “He was a deer shifter, right?”

  “That’s right. The first victim was an opossum and the third, a raccoon.”

  “All non-predators,” I noted.

  “Do you think that has something to do with how he chooses his victims?”

  “Maybe. But i
t’s likely they were just the most readily available victims.”

  Dom gave me a questioning look. “Elaborate.”

  “It’s not a coincidence that the non-predator therians are more likely to integrate. They don’t have to worry about hurting humans on a full moon. There has never been a single report of a human being killed by an attack squirrel.”

  Dom chuckled. “True.”

  “On top of that, being a non-predator in a community half full of predators can sometimes get you walked on.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be a problem in Peculiar.”

  “That’s because we have a nice blend of therians. People can overcome their instincts to dominate if they try hard. Even so, there can still be some bullying that happens.”

  Dom put his hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Is that why you decided to integrate?”

  I turned my palm into his. “Nothing that dramatic.”

  The doorbell chimed. I raised my brows. “That’s the judge and his wife, Judy.”

  “Judge Judy,” Dom said. “Isn’t that a daytime TV series?”

  “Try not to embarrass me in front of the Holts.” I giggled. Damn it. I’d giggled more in the past three days than I had in years. “No Judge Judy comments.”

  He drew a cross with his finger over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

  My heart quickened. God, this man gave me palpitations.

  “You look faint. Are you feeling well?”

  “Fine.” I had a disease called lust, and there was no cure in sight.

  “Sid,” my mom called loudly. “Company’s here!”

  My dad, who had been in hiding since our breaking and entering revelation, stalked down the hallway, his shoulders tight and his hands in balled fists at his sides. When the judge and his wife rounded the corner with mom, Dad visibly relaxed. He put on a friendly smile, and said, “Hey, Harry, good to see you.” He leaned over and brushed Judy’s cheek with his lips. “You’re looking lovely,” he told her.

  “You’ve always been such a charmer, Sid.” She smiled at my mother. “You’re a lucky woman, Jean.”

  “I’d say we both hit the lottery,” Mom replied politely. “Judge. Judy.” Mom pointed to Dom and me. I had to elbow Dom when he chuckled. “You know my daughter Nicole and her work partner, Dominic Tartan.”

  “Nicole,” Judy said. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing? I hear you some big degree from an Ivy League school.”

  “Yep,” I said. I hated being referred to as a “pretty little thing” like I was some kind of bauble or a piece of jewelry, not a person. I wanted to say, pretty little thing my ass, you best call me Doctor Taylor. But my parents would die of shame on the spot.

  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Dom said. He gave her hand a quick shake. I didn’t like the way she eyeballed his backside when Dom turned to the judge and shook his hand next. “Good to see you, Judge.”

  “Agent Tartan.” The judge held on for an extra second. “Any new leads on the case?”

  “Afraid not, but we appreciate you being quick with the warrants.”

  “I’m happy to help.”

  “I’m sorry if it’s causing problems with your family,” I said. “I know you have some kin still behind the walls.”

  “My parents were die-hard believers in the TSS. I’m afraid I never feared humans as much as they did.”

  My dad poured himself, Dominic, and the judge a whiskey. “Harry’s dad was one of the original five founders.”

  “Wow, a legacy,” I said.

  “Yes,” the judge said, taking a sip of the bourbon. “But dad died when I was ten. My mom stayed with the TSS, but I left when I turned eighteen. Headed off to college and learned the law. At first, I wanted to be able to help our kind by finding ways to fight inside the system, but after living among the humans in plain sight for seven years, I just stopped being afraid. I think a lot of them would if they could get past their fears and stop walling off the world.”

  I looked at the judge, reevaluating my opinion of him. I’d always thought he was fair, but I hadn’t realized how far he’d had to come. “That’s very progressive of you, Judge Holt. I’m impressed. Is your mom still living out there?”

  His smile faded. “She passed a couple of years back. Lung cancer.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  His eyes brightened. “Let’s talk about less unpleasant things.” He sniffed the air. “Like that delicious pot roast I smell.”

  My mom clapped her hands together. “And luckily, it’s ready now.” She looked at Dom. “Dominic, will you help our Nicole to the table?”

  I gave Mom a sharp look, but she’d already turned on her heel toward the dining room.

  “You heard your Mom. I’m to help our Nicole to the table.”

  “I’m my own...oh, never mind. Could you hand me the crutches? I can hobble myself in.”

  “Nothing doing. Your mom gave me a job to do it, and I’m doing it.” He reached his arms around me and lifted me in the air.

  “I am not a rag doll to be carried around,” I protested as he cradled me in his arms. “Besides, my foot feels a lot better. So, put me down.”

  “Fine.” He set me down on my good foot. “You can put your arm around me for support.”

  “Fine,” I said back. I hopped into the dining room with my arm around Dominic’s waist. His muscles shifted and flexed under my hand. His arm crossed my upper back, and his hand was under my armpit. His fingers brushed the top of my ribs, and I inhaled a quick breath.

  “I’m not going to be able to concentrate on food if you keep that up,” I said in a bare whisper.

  “Happy accident,” Dom said with a wicked glint in his eye.

  He escorted me into the dining room. My dad sat at the head of my family’s hand-carved golden oak dining table. It seated six normally, eight with the leaf in. Mom wanted to appear grand, so she’d put the leaf in and added some candle centerpieces encircled with purple, green, and gold silk flowers. My dad sat at the head of the table and my mom to his right. Judge Holt sat at the other end, his wife to the right of him. Dom sat me next to Mom, and he took the seat next to Judy.

  “What did you do to your foot, Nicole?” the judge asked.

  “I tripped up the stairs,” I said with our original lie. I gave a Dom a look that said, “See, that’s how you do it.”

  “That’s bad luck,” Judy said. “I hope you didn’t break anything.”

  “Doc says it’s just a sprain. I’ve always been a little clumsy.”

  Dominic laughed. “The first time I met her she tripped right into my arms.”

  “What a wonderful meet-cute,” Judy said.

  “I have no idea what that means,” my mom said.

  I’d heard the term before, and it made me barf in my mouth a little. I would not have my relationship with Dom reduced to something called a meet-cute.

  Judy happily explained though. “It’s when a man and woman meet in a cute way and are destined to be together.”

  I sighed. “We are work colleagues.”

  Judy reached down, and it looked like she put her hand on Dominic’s thigh. “That’s how it always starts, lovey.” She cast a casual glance at her husband. “Harry and I met when he first started his practice. I was a legal secretary at the firm. I’d been an integrator my whole life, but when I met him, I knew I’d follow him anywhere.” She laughed. “Even to the middle of nowhere!” Her hand never came back up to the table.

  Outwardly, I politely chuckled, but inwardly I was rolling my eyes, groaning, and flipping her the bird while vehemently threatening her within an inch of her life if she didn’t get her hand off Dominic’s leg. His eyes widened at me. It was the first time I’d seen anything resembling fear in his expression.

  “Uhm, oh, shoot,” I said feigning disappointment. “I forgot that Dom and I were supposed to meet Eldin Farraday for dinner. All the excitement this afternoon, between the trip and the doctor’s clinic, I forgot all about it.�
��

  “You can call him and cancel,” Mom insisted.

  I looked a Dom for support. If that bastard took Mom’s side, I was going to neuter him. He put down his napkin and slid back from the table. Judy’s hand went up and to her chest, surprised by his abrupt movement. “Yep, I forgot. He said he has some things about the case he wanted to discuss.”

  “Oh, yeah,” my dad said. “Why didn’t my own deputy say anything to me?”

  “You know, Dad, he has a few theories he wanted to discuss. Pure speculation.” I stood up and started hobbling toward the door. “Got to go. Come on, Dom. We’re already late.” I grabbed my crutches by the coat rack.

  “Let me help,” Dom said, grabbing my coat.

  I snatched it from him. “No time.”

  When we exited the front door, closing it behind us, we both started laughing. Dom put his arm around me. “So, what are we really doing?”

  “Going to Eldin’s.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my parents will check and I can’t get caught in an actual lie.”

  Dom nodded, but not like he was happy about it. “Then I guess we go to Farraday’s.”

  “Eldin is a really nice guy and one of my oldest friends. I wish you’d be a little nicer to him.”

  Dom opened the passenger door. I slid my crutches into the back seat and dropped into the seat backward and lifted my legs inside the car.

  After he shut the door, I heard him say, “I wish he were a little less nice to you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I’d texted Eldin to make sure he was home because he wouldn’t lie to my father for any reason, and I couldn’t take it if my dad looked at me again the way he had earlier. It would be too painful. Almost like this car ride had been. Dom had been curiously silent as I gave him directions to Eldin’s place.

  “If you take this next right, he the second house on the right.” I pointed to Summit Street. “He lives in his parents’ place.”

  “With his parents?”

  “No. They moved to a small place outside of town and gave Eldin the house. I think they were trying to distance themselves from Peculiar after the whole thing with Neville Lutjen selling our kind to hunters for big sport.”