“See? The fact that you argue everything with me makes it impossible for us to be partners.”
They reached the entrance to the plane, but before Vic could bend down to get through the opening, Shen gave him a quick shove from behind. Vic stumbled forward, his head banging into the body of the plane.
“Ow!” Vic barked. “What the holy hell—”
“Are you okay?” Shen asked, his arm around Vic’s shoulders. “You poor guy.”
Shen pressed his hand to the back of Vic’s head, lowering it enough so he could get into the cabin.
The two flight attendants helping passengers rushed forward.
“Sir, are you all right?”
“He’s fine,” Shen said. “But a little ice pack for his head would be great.”
“Of course,” one attendant agreed as she rushed off.
“Come on, buddy,” Shen said, patting Vic’s shoulder. “Let’s go force those long legs of yours into that economy middle seat.”
“Oh.” The remaining attendant leaned in. “You know, we have some seats available in first class.”
“That would be really nice. He gets so uncomfortable in those small seats.”
Smiling at Shen, the attendant led the pair to seats in first class. Once they were settled, the attendant went back to her work.
“See?” Shen asked Vic.
“See what?”
“See how helpful I was. I got us in first class.”
“Unless the plane is booked completely, I always get first class. All they have to do is look at me. But I’ve never had to ram my head into a plane to get first-class seats.”
“You know, you’re very unappreciative of what I bring to the table.”
Vic leaned over, searching the aisle for a flight attendant. “I wonder if I have to wait for takeoff before I can get a vodka . . .”
Sitting at the kitchen table in the apartment Toni shared with her mate, Livy rested her head on her crossed arms. “Maybe I should go to Europe.”
“Are you allowed in Europe?” Toni asked as she put away dishes in the overhead cabinets.
“Parts. They seem to like me in Germany.”
“You could also throw your cousin out of your apartment so you don’t have to leave the country.”
“That sounds disturbingly like work.”
“Olivia—”
“Uh-oh,” Livy sighed, knowing she was about to get a Toni Lecture.
“—I know you’re going through a rough time. This isn’t what you wanted for your life. But every artist goes through struggles.” Toni placed her hand on Livy’s shoulder. “But every struggle you endure will only make you better at what you do.”
“You gave that speech to Kyle when he refused to wear his diapers anymore.”
Toni glanced off. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I clearly remember because he’d torn off the diaper you’d made him put on and threw it at your head. But before throwing it, he’d filled it.”
“Little bastard.” Toni shuddered. “Look, the point I’m making is . . . suck it up! You’re a great artist. I know it. You know it. You’re just having a bad time of it. Add in the death of your father and I’m not exactly surprised you’re a little depressed.”
Toni’s phone went off and she glanced at the caller ID. “It’s Russia.”
“Now the entire country is contacting you?”
“It’s the Russian hockey team. The game went so well last year they want to have one here. I’m in charge of making the arrangements.” She smiled with pride at doing the job she loved so much, which made Livy snarl a little. “Well, if you’re going to get such an attitude, I guess I’ll answer the phone.”
She did, walking out of the room for her conversation.
Livy thought about getting something to eat, but before she could move, she suddenly realized she was surrounded. By wolves.
Lifting her head off her arms, Livy looked around at the Smith Pack females now sitting at the kitchen table with her or standing behind her.
“What?” she asked the females.
“You all right, darlin’?” one of them asked. “You look mighty sad.”
Ronnie Lee Reed, second-in-command of the Smith females, held her baby out. “Wanna hold him?”
Livy glared at the lion-wolf hybrid—and he glared right back, all that hair nearly covering bright blue distrustful eyes.
“You’re kidding, right?” Livy asked.
“What in the world does that mean?”
“Your baby’s evil.” When she saw the mother’s distressed expression, Livy quickly added, “Not like unholy evil, if you believe in a standard god.”
“A standard god?” Sissy Mae Smith, Alpha Female of the New York Smith Pack, asked as she sat down catty-corner from Livy.
“Personally, I’m a fan of the Nordic and East Asian gods. They have quite an edge to them.”
Sissy Mae laughed. “An edge? Darlin’, have you actually read the Bible?”
“Yes,” Livy replied, ending the laughter instantly.
Sissy Mae stared at her. “You read the Bible? The entire Bible?”
“Yes. I’ve also read the Torah, the Koran, the Vedas, Norse mythology, Roman and Greek mythology, and The Tao of Pooh.” When the She-wolves continued to gaze silently at her, Livy added, “As an artist, I have to be open to everything.”
“Artist?” one of the She-wolves asked.
“Our Livy here,” Sissy Mae said, “is a photographer.” She pointed at Livy. “That’s right. You’re doing Blayne’s wedding.”
With rage and panic welling up inside her, Livy asked, “I am?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I never agreed—” Livy’s phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her back pocket and quickly glanced at the screen. “Excuse me,” she said, pushing away from the table. She walked across the kitchen and answered her phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, cousin.”
“Hey, Jocelyn. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Sorry I couldn’t make the funeral.”
“No problem.” Jocelyn was Livy’s first cousin on her father’s side and she’d been knee-deep in the middle of a job when news came in about Livy’s father. Kowalskis had been known to walk out in the middle of jobs when family issues came up, but from what Livy could tell from Jake, Jocelyn had been driving a getaway car through Rome at the time of the funeral and then immediately lying low for a bit until the dust settled. Something Livy didn’t expect her cousin to walk away from until it was safe. Even for a funeral.
Three wolves walked into the kitchen while Livy was on the phone with her cousin. The Reed Boys, they were called. Laid-back Ricky Lee was mated to Toni. Rory Lee was the oldest and the crankiest of the three brothers. He rarely spoke to Livy unless he felt he had to out of politeness. And then there was Reece Lee, one of the Carnivore hockey players. Livy found Reece the most entertaining and had used him more than once as a model for her portrait work.
When he walked in, he spotted Livy right away and waved at her. She nodded back as her cousin asked, “So how did it go?”
“Fistfight on the casket. Poisonous snakes in the backyard. My father’s ex-girlfriend head-butted by my mother.” Livy shrugged. “The usual, really.”
“Sounds it.”
Ronnie Lee, seeing her brothers, stood with her son in her arms. “Take Reggie, I need to go to the bathroom.”
At their sister’s request, Ricky Lee immediately changed direction and walked over to Livy by the sink, Reece dropped to one knee so he could tie a boot that didn’t need it, which left poor Rory unprepared. His sister shoved the baby in Rory’s arms and the stoic wolf suddenly appeared terrified. If the females of the Pack noticed, none of them said anything. Instead, they kept chatting among themselves.
Livy asked her cousin, “So what’s up?”
“Well, I’m going to be in Manhattan in the next couple of days for a job. Thought you’d like to sign on.”
Livy fr
owned at the statement. “Huh?”
“Your mother called me . . . said you needed work.”
Rubbing her forehead, Livy asked, “She said what?”
“Uh . . . oh.”
While her cousin was stammering on the other end, Livy watched Rory Lee carry his nephew through the open door and into the dining room. He began pacing back and forth, gently patting the child’s back.
“Shit,” her cousin muttered. “I knew I should have talked to Jake first. But your mother sounded so—”
“Casual?” Livy asked.
“Yeah. Exactly. So I guess she’s still not a big supporter of your photography career, huh?”
“Apparently not.”
Rory suddenly stumbled past the open doorway, Ronnie Lee’s baby now attached to his uncle’s throat by his little baby teeth, his little baby claws dug into his uncle’s shoulders.
“Hey,” Jocelyn asked, “are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Livy lied, watching in concern as poor Rory stumbled back the other way, desperately trying to pry his nephew off his neck.
“Maybe we could meet when I get into the city.”
“Sure.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Joce.” Livy disconnected the call and glanced over at Ricky. “Are you going to help him?”
“I find it’s better not to get involved.”
Ronnie walked back into the kitchen just as her baby was finally yanked off Rory’s neck and sent flying right into her arms. She easily caught her child and then all the She-wolves turned on Rory, gawking at the poor wolf in horror.
“Good Lord, Rory Lee!” Ronnie snarled. “You don’t throw babies! Especially mine!”
“Look what he did to me!” Rory pointed at his unmarred neck.
“What am I looking at?” Sissy Mae asked. “’Cause I don’t see nothin’.”
“Just wait until the little bastard grows into his fangs,” Rory promised. “Then you’ll see!”
“I don’t know what’s been wrong with you lately,” Ronnie said, sitting back at the kitchen table. “It’s like you’ve lost your dang mind!”
“Where’s Toni?” Ricky asked Livy.
“Taking a call from the Russian team.”
Ricky sighed. “I’m sensing another trip to Siberia coming up.”
“Now?” Livy snorted a little. “It’s freezing over there.”
“It’s a winter nightmare, but they do take good care of us when we come over.” He moved a little closer. “Just so you know,” Ricky said low, motioning to his Packmates, “they’re probably going to crash here for the night.”
“All night?”
“Yeah. There’s a game on. We’ll watch it on our big flat screen, which we all love, and then, before you know it, they’re asleep on our living room floor. Toni doesn’t mind, but you—”
“Yeah. Tell Toni I’ll check in with her later.”
Chuckling, Ricky nodded. “Will do. Have a good night.”
Livy made it out of the apartment and down to the street before Reece caught up with her.
“Hey,” he said, catching her arm. “You’re not staying?”
“Can’t. Your friends get on my nerves.”
Reece laughed. “You’re not a subtle gal, are ya, Livy?”
“Nope.” Heading down the street, she waved back at him.
Once she hit the corner, Livy stood there for a second, wondering where she’d go now. Without her raising her hand, a taxi stopped in front of her. Livy opened the door and got in.
“Where to?” the cabbie asked.
Livy thought a moment, then smirked. “Westchester.”
Vic watched over Shen’s shoulder as the panda did what he did best and hacked into the delivery company’s computer system. They’d found a security guard willing to let them in, but they didn’t have a lot of time.
It didn’t take long to figure out that this company was, truly, a delivery business. They delivered cars and other heavy items for their rich clients to and from foreign countries. But they also moved illegal products like elephant tusks and stolen paintings and protected-animal meat and furs. Also for their rich clients.
But that still didn’t explain the circuitous route the package from Russia took to get to Miami. Once Shen was into the system, he discovered that the package had gone from Russia through Japan down to Australia to South Africa into Argentina up through Peru through Columbia and into Cuba before hitting Miami.
The question that Vic needed answered, though, was where had it gone from there.
“It was a pickup,” Shen finally said. “Someone came and picked up the box and took it. No name provided, though.”
“All right.” Vic patted Shen’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Give me a minute.”
Vic waited while Shen erased evidence that he’d been tooling around the company’s system. Once done, they headed out, Vic handing the rest of the cash he’d promised to the security guard.
They walked away from the port toward where they’d left the rental SUV.
“So now what?” Shen asked.
“Every time we think we’re close, there’s another dead end with this guy.”
“There’s got to be something we can try.”
Vic stopped, hands in pockets, his gaze locked on the clear sky. “We can check the daughter’s place again,” he said, resigned.
“That could have been where the package was going.”
“Doubtful.”
“Maybe. Or maybe a father making a desperate attempt to know his daughter after missing out on the last thirty years. He wouldn’t be the first. And whoever picked up the package and brought it to her . . .”
“Might know where we can start looking.” Vic nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”
They walked on, reaching the vehicle quickly.
“And when we’re done with this,” Shen said as he opened the passenger’s side. “We need to shut that place down.” He gestured in the direction of the company they’d just left.
“Absolutely,” Vic said, immediately thinking about the animals that had suffered for the most ridiculous reasons.
Shen glanced at his watch as Vic opened his door and got into the SUV. “I think we can make the red-eye if traffic is good.”
“Great,” Vic said, starting the SUV. “I’m so ready to go home.”
CHAPTER 5
They’d taken the red-eye back to LaGuardia and now Vic was tired and cranky. Plus, he couldn’t seem to shake Shen. The panda had gotten in the cab with him and was now getting out as Vic paid the driver.
“Why aren’t you going to your hotel?” Vic asked as they headed toward his Westchester house.
“I wanted to make sure you got home safe and sound.”
Vic stopped outside the chain-link gate surrounding his home. “You want me to make you something to eat, don’t you?”
“I’m a guest,” Shen said, easing the gate open and stepping onto Vic’s property. “It’s the polite thing to do.”
“You are such a—”
“Hello, Victor!”
Vic gritted his teeth. He was not in the mood for this. For her. At least with Shen, Vic could be as cranky and rude as he deemed it necessary this early in the morning. But Shen was a panda. Tolerant as most bears were. It was the reason his father could put up with Vic’s beautiful but high-maintenance mother. He was a tolerant grizzly. Sure, you startled a grizzly, you risked getting your face ripped off. But otherwise, they put up with a lot as long as you kept the sounds low and the food supply substantial.
But this female wasn’t a bear. She was a feline. And a pushy one at that.
“Good morning, good morning,” she practically sang from behind him. And Vic wanted so badly to shut his gate and walk into his house without answering, but damn his Russian parents with their insistence on polite behavior. Polite behavior that didn’t allow him just to ignore a lady, no matter how annoying the lady might be. r />
Hand gripping the strap of his travel bag, Vic slowly turned and faced the pretty She-tiger standing behind him.
“Hi, Brittany.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She held up a perfectly baked coffee cake on a crystal plate with a crystal dome top.
Sure. She could have bought it at the bakery like most women would have. But not Brittany, local tigress, mom of two, and female in search of a long-term mate. Nope. She’d made that perfectly designed and probably incredible-tasting cake all by herself while raising her two perfect cubs and running a rather successful party planning company out of her house.
What exactly was he supposed to do with Brittany? Vic was far from perfect. In fact, he enjoyed the imperfection of himself and his family. And he could just imagine how poorly his mother and Brittany would get along. He shuddered at the thought.
“I made this just for you. My famous lemon honey coffee cake with buttercream glaze.”
“Sounds—”
“Why don’t I cut you a slice myself?” She walked around him, past Shen like he didn’t exist, and up the path to his house.
Vic watched her move. He knew if she were in her shifted form, her tail would be calling his name, swinging from side to side, twitching at the tip.
“That is quite the ass,” Shen muttered.
“Yes. It’s perfect.”
Shen chuckled, rolled his eyes. “You and your antiperfection agenda.”
Vic was about to reiterate—yet again—why he felt the way he did about anyone who tried so hard to be constantly perfect, but he was too busy watching Brittany walk into his house . . . unobstructed.
“You never leave your door unlocked,” Shen told him.
“I know.”
“Then how—”
A few seconds later, they heard a female’s startled scream turn into an angry roar.
Running now, Vic and Shen charged up the path to the house. Vic yanked the metal security door open and ran inside, down the hall, and into his kitchen with Shen right behind him.
That’s where they found Brittany with a blood-covered hand over her face, roaring at the cabinets over his refrigerator. Confused, Vic grabbed a towel and pressed it to her wounds.