“But you said that if I—”
“And I will, but it will be at my pace, not yours.” He gestured for her to precede him. “Breakfast.”
* * *
“You’re better than moderately good,” Margaret said as she gazed down at the chessboard. “I should have known you’d lie to me.”
“Yes, you should. When have I ever shown myself to be trustworthy in our brief acquaintance?” He looked at her with a smile. “Consider your circumstances. Not encouraging. But it was only a small lie. I’m too impatient to really be good at this game. You’re far better at it than I am.”
“Impatient.” She made a face. “Yes, I can see that you are. If you weren’t so impatient, you wouldn’t have decided that I was your only way to get Nicos. You would have taken the time to study him and not hurt innocent people.”
His smile faded. “You’re not hurt.”
“Yet.” She looked up at him. “And I won’t be hurt. But the risk is there. You shouldn’t expose me to that risk.”
“Why do all of our conversations come back to—” He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s just annoying. But you have a perfect right to voice your displeasure.”
“Yes, I do.” Her gaze narrowed on his face. “I thought that I’d get a few jabs at you to make up for your prying into my privacy. But we’ve gone all day and you haven’t asked me anything. Why not?”
“Perhaps I’m not as curious about you as I thought?”
She thought about it. “Or maybe you’re protecting yourself from me. Maybe Cambry was right and you don’t want to see anything in me but what you want to see. Why else would you back off?”
“How very perceptive.”
“It makes sense.” She leaned back against the rail. “So ask me whatever you want.” She grinned at him. “I dare you.”
“That’s a dangerous challenge.” He met her eyes. “It could get you into trouble.”
She felt suddenly breathless. Her heart was beating hard. Spending these hours with him had lulled her into a false sense of security. He had been so easygoing and amusing that she had felt totally confident and at home with him. Now that was gone and she was vividly aware of everything about him. And none of it was in the least easygoing.
He smiled as he read and deciphered that response. “Now who’s backing out?” He cleared the chessboard and started setting up the pieces again.
“Let’s talk about tigers.”
She hadn’t expected him to head in that direction. She wasn’t ready for it. “That’s right, you said you saw me with the tigers.” She tried to sound offhand. “I work with all kinds of animals at the zoo. I do everything from cleaning cages to acting as a kind of a tech assistant. The tigers are just part of the job.”
“Is it also part of your job to creep into their cages in the dead of night when no one else is around?”
“Sometimes it helps to be able to have private time with them,” she said warily. “They can be … sensitive.”
“And your superiors at the zoo approve of your crawling into tigers’ cages?”
She didn’t answer directly. “There are times when it’s necessary. There are injuries and illness, even tooth removal, and the vets have to—”
“But not a humble tech and not alone,” he said softly. “That’s why you had to do it in the middle of the night. What were you up to, Margaret?”
She stared at him with exasperation. She had hoped not to get into this. “I’m a tech, but I’m not humble. And I wasn’t doing anything to hurt Zaran or the cub.”
“I misspoke. You’re definitely not humble. Zaran?”
“The tigress. They were having problems getting her to accept her cub. She had trouble at birth and she didn’t see him for three days. When they were introduced, she totally rejected him. She thought he wasn’t hers and refused to feed him. She even tried to attack him once. I had to convince her that she was wrong.”
“And your method was to throw them together and then crawl into the tigress’s cage yourself? I really don’t believe that would meet with the vet’s approval.”
“Perhaps not. It seemed the thing to do at the time.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, I find it does.”
“I had to be ready to try to save the cub if Zaran decided that she didn’t believe me when I told her that the cub was hers.” She stiffened, waiting for the response.… Laughter? Bewilderment? Ridicule? She had heard them all.
She hadn’t heard this one.
“Interesting,” he said quietly. “I thought it might be something like that. But, of course, the chance you took was completely irrational.”
Her eyes widened. “You thought that it—” She stopped and said carefully, “Would you care to explain?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Though you’re interfering with my Q-and-A time. I couldn’t have tracked you down if I hadn’t talked in depth to the people with whom you interacted. And the jobs you took always were connected with caring for animals. I heard a few amazing and often unbelievable stories about your skill and bonding with them. You tried to be careful and discreet, but a few of your employers still thought you were some kind of witch doctor. That you actually knew what an animal was thinking, that you could communicate with them. I found it completely absurd, of course. But it was hard to dismiss.” He tilted his head. “And then I found my way to Summer Island and I thought; maybe not absurd at all.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the perfect place for you, an experimental research facility that was only interested in extending the life span and intelligence of dogs. You fit right in during the time you were there. You felt free to meld with those dogs you began to love. The vets and techs noticed you were different, of course, but they were receptive, not critical, and you were very content. At least everyone thought you were.” His brows lifted. “Was it true?”
“It’s true,” she said curtly. “But Devon never told you any of that stuff about me.”
“No, she was very loyal and discreet. But I had a few hours with your fellow techs, and they weren’t as closemouthed. They admired and liked you, but when you don’t understand something, you tend to want to discuss it. I was glad to furnish a sounding board.”
“I imagine you were. Why? My life at Summer Island had nothing to do with Stan Nicos.”
“I had to know everything about you. I knew you were going to be difficult.” He shrugged. “Though I admit I was a bit stunned when I found out that you might have a mental connection with certain animals. I thought it was only dogs, until I witnessed your session with those tigers. Any other kind of bonding?”
She might as well answer him. She could see that he wasn’t going to let her avoid the subject. “Yes,” she said reluctantly. “Some are easier than others.” Her gaze suddenly flew down the deck to Cambry. “Does he know?”
“No, for some reason I didn’t feel I wanted to share it. I wanted it to be between us.”
“It’s not between us. And I can’t share it. It’s mine alone. That’s the way it is. And you’re taking this entirely too receptively. Why?”
“I traveled all over the Middle East while I was in the service. I’ve seen everything from snake charmers to Buddhist monks training their animals to do amazing feats. But I don’t believe I’ve ever run across someone like you, Margaret.”
“Lucky you.”
“Not so lucky.” He looked out at the sea. “And you’re not all that lucky, either. It had to be difficult for you to cope with a gift like that.”
“Why?” She made a face. “Because everyone thinks you’re either lying or crazy? I learned that very young. My mother died when I was born and my father let DEFACS take care of me until I was four. But then he petitioned to get me back because of the welfare checks. He was neither understanding nor forgiving of having a kid who told the next-door neighbors she knew their dog was sick because he told her so and that they should take him to the vet. He beat
me every time I said something that made him uncomfortable or that he couldn’t accept. I learned very fast, Lassiter.”
“Bastard,” he said roughly. “Wasn’t there anyone you could go to for help?”
“Not at the time. Later. But it was okay. I got along fine.”
“Yeah, sure. When did you even realize you could communicate with animals?”
“I always knew. I thought everyone could do it. Of course, the people in the orphanage just thought I was a little wacko. There was a marmalade cat named Tamby who lived in the alley in back of the orphanage and visited every day for scraps. And then there were birds, who weren’t nearly as interesting, but they saw all kinds of wonderful things when they were flying that they just took for granted. I spent a lot of time listening and watching them.” She shrugged. “But they got pretty bored with me. I guess three-year-olds who were locked up in an orphanage didn’t have much to offer. But none of the personnel at the orphanage seemed to think much about it. I guess kids who were as alone as we were often had imaginary friends.”
“I suppose that’s definitely a possibility,” he said quietly.
“Anyway, it wasn’t until I had to go to my father that I knew I could be punished for it. And, once I understood, most of the time I could avoid it. And then when I was eight, I ran away from home to escape from him and lived in the woods for a while.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I was safer there than anywhere else. Like I said, I got along fine.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should. I was better off there than I would have been at home with my father or in a child services facility.”
“Why? The woods? Give me a break. The entire idea is bizarre. If I didn’t realize that your recent background is just as bizarre, I’d have trouble believing it.”
“Then don’t believe it.”
“But I do believe it. And for some reason, it drives me crazy. You were a child.” He shook his head. “It had to have been hell for you. Some kids are even scared of the dark, much less being alone in the forest.”
“It wasn’t hell for me. At first, I didn’t like being alone, but then I realized I wasn’t alone at all and I—” She stopped. She didn’t like being on the defensive and she didn’t really like remembering that night she’d run away from home. She certainly didn’t want to share it. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“No, I want to know how you felt.” His eyes were suddenly holding her own. “Tell me.”
“Why? You know too much about me right now. You don’t have to know about that girl back in Dodson, Indiana. I’m not her any longer. There’s nothing from that time that you can use to manipulate me.”
“Maybe not. I still want to know.” His face was taut, strained, intense. “Tell me.”
But if she told him, she felt she’d give him something of herself that belonged only to her. That night of rejection and rebirth had been painful, and yet it had formed the person she had become. He wouldn’t be able to understand. No one could understand. That’s why she never talked about it. To talk about it would bring back the memories, would bring back that night.…
Dodson, Indiana
12:40 AM
Thirteen Years Ago
It was going to rain. She could smell it in the air.
I shouldn’t have picked tonight, Margaret thought as she ran down the highway toward the cornfield she could see in the distance. Beyond that cornfield was the forest, but she might not be able to reach it. Her father had been drunk, but she wasn’t sure that he had passed out yet. She should have waited. She had no shelter built in those woods. And if it rained hard, there would be mud and she’d leave footprints.
She couldn’t wait. Her back still stung from the whip her father had used on her earlier in the evening. The drinking was getting worse and so were the beatings. She tried to stay out of his way, but it was getting harder all the time. Lately, it had seemed as if it was no longer punishment but pleasure he was looking for. When he had knocked her against the wall yesterday, she had seen that pleasure when he saw the blood running down her face.
And she knew he’d want that pleasure again.
She had known she’d have to be prepared, that it was going to get worse, but she had thought she’d have a little more time.
No more time.
He wouldn’t let her get away. He would keep coming after her because of that joy he felt in hurting her. If she hid, he would try to hunt her down.
She knew about hunting; she could see it all around her when she joined with animals. When an animal knew it was being hunted, it didn’t wait; it fled. It seemed to be pure instinct. But it was confusing for Margaret, because when an animal was hunted, it was usually for food, not for pleasure.
But she had known that she had to leave that night.
Because her instinct had told her she might not have another chance.
Headlights on the road behind her!
There were only two houses on the road where she lived, and their occupants had to get up early to go to work and weren’t likely to be out after midnight.
And she recognized the sound of the seven-year-old Chevy truck her father drove.
Run!
She tightened the shoulder strap of the book bag she’d used to pack her belongings and started to run.
“Margaret!”
He’d seen her!
He’d stepped on the accelerator and he would catch up with her in seconds.
No! She ran faster down the road.
“Margaret, you come back here. You little freak.” His voice was slurred, but it was angry and full of menace. “I’ll beat you senseless when I catch you.”
And he would do it.
No! She wouldn’t let him. Never again.
She jumped over the ditch and ran toward the cornfield.
He was cursing as he pulled over to the side of the road. “Margaret!” He took out his flashlight and shined the beam on her running figure. “Come back here and get in this car!”
She was almost to the cornfield.
“I’m going to get out and come after you!”
Threats and fear and him always there waiting for her. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She wouldn’t stand it. She suddenly turned around and faced him. Both the beam of his flashlight and the headlights were on her, blinding her to the darkness of his car only yards away. “You won’t get out of the truck,” she shouted at him. “You’re too drunk and I’m not worth it to you unless I’m easy prey. You’d only fall down and probably break your stupid head open. Come ahead. I’ll lose myself in this cornfield and you’ll never find me. I’m not going to be easy for you ever again.”
His voice was harsh with rage. “I’m going to kill you, freak.”
Freak, again. He always called her that when no one but she could hear him. It had started the first time he had realized that she could actually bond with animals and he had treated it as something loathsome. “No, you won’t. I won’t let you. Maybe I am a freak, but I’m natural and I’m clean. You’re the real freak. You’re twisted in a sick and ugly way.”
“I’ll show you ugly. I’ll get you back and you’ll—”
“No, you won’t. You won’t do anything to me. You’ll never see me again.…”
She turned and ran into the cornfield.
Tall stalks of corn on either side of her. The rustle of the dry leaves as she ran through them.
She heard her father cursing and then the car door slam. He was coming after her. She had probably made him so angry by her defiance that he’d been driven to chase after her. It hadn’t been a smart thing to do.
But she’d had to do it. She hadn’t been able to just disappear after all that had gone before. She’d had to tell him what he was and defend herself at last.
She heard him crashing through the cornfield behind her.
She was smaller, but faster, and he was drunk.
It was starting to rain.
&nbs
p; Even better.
He would be slipping and sliding and maybe get discouraged. He might just rely on DEFACS to find and bring her back. She wouldn’t let that happen. Never again.
She ran faster. She couldn’t see the forest beyond the cornfield ahead of her, but she knew it was there. She had spent many hours in that forest while she was hiding out from her father.
It was raining hard now and even though the stalks of corn were partially protecting her, she was getting soaked to the skin. That was okay; he would be getting this wet, too.
“Margaret!”
He sounded far behind her as well as frustrated and furious.
And she was getting closer to the forest every minute.
It was silly to think it was calling to her. There was no sound but the rain and an occasional roll of thunder. Maybe she was the one calling.…
And she might have been answered. She could no longer hear her father crashing through the tall stalks behind her. He was not shouting her name.…
Safe?
Not yet. Not until she got out of this cornfield and into the woods.
She increased her pace, listening for any sound behind her.
Nothing.
Only the rain falling on the leaves and the earth.
And then she was out of the cornfield, and in the next few minutes she had entered the trees.
Shelter.
Dimness.
So many familiar scents …
She dropped down beneath an oak tree to catch her breath and look out at the cornfield to make sure that she hadn’t been fooled by that lack of sound.
Nothing. No movement. No sound but the falling rain.
He had given up for the time being. Probably until tomorrow, when he’d call DEFACS and tell them she was lost and he needed their help to find her.