Tangled Threat ; Suspicious

by Heather Graham

  If she felt a deeper surge of unease...

  All she had to do was scream.

  He was staring at her intently. Searching her eyes.

  He started to raise a hand toward her face, smiling.

  “Michael?”

  The call and a fierce knocking were followed by the door simply opening.

  Lorena slipped from the edge of the desk as Michael turned.

  Harry was there.

  “Michael, can you get out here and help with the equipment? This is insane, if you ask me. Half the guys have no supplies. Damn Jesse. Leave it to him to get the full cooperation of the Florida Wildlife and Game Commission for a wild-goose chase.”

  If Harry had noticed that he had interrupted something, he gave no sign. But maybe he hadn’t noticed, she thought. He seemed much more upset about the hunt than that a man had been killed by a gator.

  Lorena grimaced as she caught Michael’s eye, then escaped in Harry’s wake.

  Hurrying out back to the canal, she saw an unbelievable lineup of airboats and canoes. Jesse was up on some kind of a huge tackle box, giving instructions. “Remember, folks, we’re looking for something really large—not indiscriminately killing off a population for trophies.”

  “How big, Jesse?” a man shouted from one of the canoes.

  “Bigger than the norm,” Michael Preston answered for him, hurrying forward. “The biggest gator ever recorded in Florida was seventeen feet, five inches long. The biggest gator recorded in Louisiana was nineteen feet, two inches. So if you find anything smaller than that—wrong gator.”

  “Ah, hell!” the same fellow snorted. “We have to have something real to go by.”

  “You heard the man. We’re looking for fifteen feet or over. All right?” Jesse asked.

  “We get to harvest what we get?”

  She saw Jesse defer to a man who looked like he was about to go on safari, in khakis and a straw hat. He was tall and lean.

  Jesse reached a hand down and helped the man up on the box. “This is Steven Bear, Florida Wildlife and Game Commission.”

  “We can harvest the fellas, huh?” another man called.

  “Gentlemen, the important thing is this—we’re not out on a regular hunt. Make sure your quarry is over fifteen feet. Then the meat is yours. Nothing small is to be taken. Understood?”

  She saw both Steven Bear and Jesse jump down from the box. Someone asked Jesse a question, and he answered, then headed for an airboat with a number of men already aboard.

  Michael came up behind her. “Half those guys see this as a free-for-all,” he murmured.

  She turned to him, frowning herself. “I don’t get it. I mean, there are so many boats. Are they going to try to sneak up on it with all those lights, all that noise?”

  “You’ll see,” Michael said.

  And she did. It had seemed like chaos, but when the airboats took off, they headed in all different directions. Once again, she had forgotten that what appeared like solid ground in this area most often wasn’t.

  River of grass.

  They were taking off over that river in a dozen different directions.

  “Well, they’ll be gone awhile,” Michael said. “Why don’t we have some dinner?”

  “Sure.”

  They ambled to the cafeteria together, chose pork chops for their meals, and sat together.

  The place was almost eerily empty. “Did Sally go on the hunt?” Lorena asked, curious that the outspoken, sexy redhead was nowhere to be seen.

  “I didn’t see her,” Michael said.

  “Does she help with the research here at all?” Lorena asked.

  Michael laughed. “There’s only one green thing that Sally would research—money,” he told her.

  “Oh?”

  “Um.”

  Lorena smiled, smoothing back a lock of hair. “I don’t get it then. Why is she working out here?”

  “I think she’s trying to be so indispensable to Harry that he makes her a partner. He owns land all over the place. And we’re doing well here...but I think he’d like to open another facility, closer down by the Keys. He’s already opened a few shops in Key Largo.”

  She frowned again. “Michael, this is a totally dumb question. But Harry raises gators for their meat and hides, right? So where does he—”

  “Lorena!” Michael said, grinning. “You don’t ‘harvest’ animals where you show them off to the tourists! I told you—Harry owns a lot of land closer to the Keys, down in the Florida City–Homestead area.”

  “Ah.”

  “You really are interested, aren’t you?” When she nodded, he said, “I can show you a few things, then. Are you done?”

  “Um, yes,” she murmured.

  He wiggled his eyebrows in a manner suggestive of a hunched Igor in a horror movie. “Come, my dear, I’ll show you my lab,” he growled jokingly.

  Lorena froze for a moment. She’d been doing everything in her power to sneak into the lab, and now he was making this offer.

  While anyone who might have come to her rescue was off hunting for a rogue alligator.

  No. There were more live-ins around the compound. And Harry hadn’t gone on the hunt; he was around somewhere.

  Besides, she had waited far too long for this opportunity. She could take care of herself.

  And she was going in.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got to show me,” she said with a smile.

  He flashed her a smile in return, showing very white teeth. They rose and walked across the compound. She noted that there was another guard on duty.

  She noted as well that he was spooked. When he heard their footsteps, his hand flew to the hilt of his gun, buckled at his hip.

  “Just Ms. Fortier and me,” Michael said.

  “Evenin’,” the guard replied.

  When they reached the door to the lab, Michael drew out his keys and opened it, pressing the small of Lorena’s back lightly to get her to proceed inside.

  He followed, closed the door, then locked it.

  Then he turned and stared at her. “I don’t know why I bother. Someone picked it open the other day.”

  “Oh?”

  He shook his head, approaching her. She cocked her head, looking at him. The guard had just seen the two of them together. He couldn’t possibly be planning anything...evil.

  Not unless he meant to go back out and kill the guard as well!

  He was still smiling, as if his intent was to seduce, but she knew it wasn’t. She found herself backed against the desk.

  He was the brain, he had said, not the brawn. But he was a liar. She could feel the heat and strength of his muscles.

  And his anger.

  His menace...

  “You picked the lock, Lorena, didn’t you?” he asked softly.

  “What?”

  “Ah, the innocence. Like hell, Ms. Fortier. You’re flirting madly with me, while it’s more than obvious that it’s Jesse Crane who’s really stirred your senses. And yet you’re charming as hell to Jack and Hugh, too. Are you just a little vamp, Ms. Fortier? I don’t think so. I think you’re up to something. You want something in this lab. Tell me what it is. Here we are, you and me, alone, finally. So...it’s time. You want to see what’s going on in here? You might as well. I think you should see exactly what you’ve been wanting to see. Now. Right now.”

  Chapter Ten

  Nighttime in the Everglades, and it was eerie.

  No matter how well a man knew the place, the near-total darkness hid the predators haunting the swamp and made this a dangerous place.

  When light touched the gators’ eyes, they glowed, as if they were demons from hell, not of this world at all.

  Jesse was accustomed to the glowing eyes, and yet even he found them chilling in the dark of the night.

/>   Despite his familiarity with the creatures, it was difficult for him to determine the size of one with only the eyes to go on. Sometimes, he knew instantly when he was looking at an animal of no more than five to eight feet, but with just the eyes above the water to go by, more often than not it was a crap shoot.

  Twice they snared a creature only to realize that the specimen they had in their loops was no more than nine feet, ten tops.

  Each time they released their catch. Enraged, the alligators made swift departures from the area once they had been freed.

  The rest of the group on the airboat, Jack, Leo and Sam Tiger, were soaked and exasperated, but no one suggested giving up as they moved closer to the location where Billy Ray had been attacked and killed.

  They had been out a few hours and had just cut the motor, and only the noises of the night were echoing in the air around them, when Jack Pine said softly, “There,” and pointed.

  Jesse looked in the direction Jack was indicating.

  The alligator wasn’t completely submerged. The length of the head was incredible. He focused hard and saw the length of the animal as it floated just beneath the surface.

  And he knew they had found the beast they were searching for.

  Sam whistled softly. “I have never seen anything remotely near that size before,” he said.

  “Let’s bait it,” Jesse murmured.

  Their bait was chicken. He tied several pieces on the line.

  The alligator watched them as they approached. It didn’t move; it showed no fear.

  When the line was cast in the water, the animal moved at last.

  It went for the bait. They were ready with their snares.

  A massive snap of the mighty jaws severed the lines as well as securing the meat, but Jack managed to get a noose around the neck.

  The alligator made one swing of that massive head. Jack went flying off the airboat, a shout of surprise escaping his lips. The animal instantly began to close in on him.

  Sam quickly started the engine and headed in for a rescue. Jesse went for one of the high-powered revolvers. He aimed and fired, aimed and fired, as they neared Jack.

  Sam swore, shouting to Jack.

  In a frenzy, Jack moved toward the airboat.

  Jesse, taking care to miss the man, fired again and again.

  Ten bullets into the gator.

  It kept coming, heedless of the men, heedless of the bullets that had pierced its hide.

  They reached Jack. Sam and Leo instantly reached for him, and he reached back, grabbing their hands, the muscles bulging in his forearms and a look of dread in his eyes.

  They were just dragging Jack over the edge of the airboat platform when the gator’s head emerged, mammoth jaws wide with their shocking power.

  Jesse aimed again, dead into one of the eyes.

  The explosion ripped through the night.

  The eye and part of the head evaporated.

  And at last, with Jack’s feet just clearing the water, the creature began to fall back.

  Jesse fired again and again, aiming at what was left of the disappearing head.

  He felt a hand on his arm. Sam’s. “You got it,” Sam said softly.

  And from where he lay on the floor of the airboat, Jack said softly, “Dear God.”

  In the silence that followed his statement, they heard the whir of motors, saw approaching lights and heard the shouts of others.

  More airboats and canoes arrived, and the area was suddenly aglow with floodlights.

  “You got it?” Hugh called from another vessel.

  Jesse realized that he was shaking. He nodded, turned, lowered his gun and found a seat.

  The others began to haul the creature in.

  * * *

  “WELL, LORENA?” MICHAEL asked huskily.

  Great, she thought.

  She had a gun, and she was a crack shot. But she had let her eagerness to find the truth lead to stupidity, so here she was, boxed in by her main suspect, and he was challenging her....

  She slid her hands backward on his desk. In all the old movies, there was a letter opener on a desk, ready to be used by a desperate victim as a weapon.

  There was nothing on Michael Preston’s desk but his computer and a few papers.

  Not even a paperweight.

  “Well...” she murmured, as he came closer. Closer.

  There was nothing of use on the desk.

  She told herself to scream!

  It was all she had left.

  “How could you?” Michael said suddenly, turning abruptly away from her.

  She gulped down her scream.

  “What?”

  “How in the world could you suspect me of anything? Although what you think I’ve been doing, I still don’t know. You’ve been on my computer. You’ve been searching this lab. What do you think that I’ve done? Or are you out to steal something from me?” he demanded.

  She stared at him, a frown furrowing her brow. He seemed to be genuinely upset, and he also seemed to be as much at a loss as she was herself right now.

  But if not Michael Preston...who? He was the scientist here.

  The brains, not the brawn.

  “What?” she repeated, stalling for time, rapidly trying to determine just what to say.

  “Are you a thief?” he queried.

  “Of course not!” she protested.

  “Then what have you been doing?”

  She sighed, looking downward. “Trying to understand,” she murmured.

  “Understand what?” he demanded.

  “Well, you know, more of what’s going on around here.”

  “Really. Didn’t the concept of simply asking occur to you?”

  Again she sighed. “Well...no. It’s all so strange. This place, the people here.”

  “Except for Jesse Crane.”

  She stared at him, then shrugged. “He seems to be a decent guy. I like him,” she murmured.

  “In a way you don’t like me?”

  “Oh, Michael! You’re great. You know that. Half the women you meet immediately start crushing on you,” she told him.

  He grinned ruefully, then shrugged. “The problem is,” he said huskily, “it’s the half of the female population I want that couldn’t care less about me.”

  Lorena felt awkward then, not sure what to say. But feeling awkward was much better than feeling terrified.

  “Michael...”

  “Never mind. It’s true. Women prefer brawn to brain.”

  She arched a brow. “Are you insinuating that men with brawn can’t have brains? I have the impression that you spend a fair amount of time in the gym.”

  He sat beside her on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. He sounded amused as he admitted, “Yeah, I go to the gym. But do I want to be out looking for a giant gator? Not in this lifetime. I like hatchlings. They’re little. They might bite fingers, but it’s unlikely that I’ll become dinner for them.”

  “Michael...have you ever altered a hatchling?”

  “Altered?”

  “When you crack the eggs. Have you ever experimented?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly. His eyes narrowed sharply as he stared at her. “Is that what you’re after? Trying to steal my vitamin compounds?”

  “Vitamins? No.”

  “Well, that’s about all I’ve worked with. Vitamins in the egg. You want my password? You want to get into the files you haven’t been able to crack?” he asked.

  She was uneasy again, thinking that he might have refrained from harming her only because he hadn’t decided what she was really doing, why she had come.

  Was this a trap?

  “Just what kind of work are you doing?” she inquired.

  “What do you think?” he demanded. “The same kind
of research as everyone else! Alligator meat is already lean and high in protein. I’m trying to make it even better, so someday it can feed the world.”

  He sounded like her father. But she wondered if he was driven by the same true passion to help, or if he was seeking renown—or just money.

  He shook his head with disgust suddenly and walked around to click on his computer. “What kind of work do I do? Research, and yes, experimentation. But you know what? Nothing I know about can create a giant killer gator. So you go ahead and take a look. I hope you’re up on your enzymes, proteins, compounds, vitamins and minerals.”

  “Look, Michael,” she began. “I—”

  He was typing something when he suddenly looked up. “I just realized something. Why are you looking into my research? For a gator to have gotten as big as this one supposedly is, it would have to have been growing for years and years—while both of us were still kids, practically.”

  “Not that long,” she murmured dryly.

  He stared at her, then exhaled slowly. “Is there some kind of research out there that I don’t know about? Some kind of discovery. That is...what you’re saying is impossible.”

  “Hey,” she murmured, keeping her eyes low. “I’m not a researcher. I’m not even an alligator expert.”

  “So what are you after?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m just curious, I guess,” she lied. She still wasn’t certain she could trust Michael Preston.

  He shook his head, studying the computer screen. “There have been big gators, but the biggest one on record wasn’t even caught in this state. I suppose someone could have figured out a way to jump-start gator growth, or hybridize a gator with something else. I mean, we only have beefalo because of somebody’s bright idea to breed a cow with a buffalo.”

  He seemed genuinely absorbed in seeking answers, but Lorena found that she was uncomfortable despite that fact.

  “Come. Look,” he demanded, staring at her belligerently.

  She walked over to see the screen. He stood, urging her into the chair.

  He had opened his research files. He had been telling her the truth—at least, as far as this proved. There were notes on the eggs with cracked shells. There was a study on albino alligators, with statistics regarding their life expectancy in the wild. There were side notes reminding him to speak to Harry about habitat changes, notations regarding the fact that he intended to set the temperature to create a male so they could eventually breed it with a number of females and track its genetic influence.