A Tiger's Tale (A Call of the Wilde Mystery) (26 page)

“I don’t understand. You were on the other side of the fence. Right where the . . .” I trailed off as understanding dawned. “It was you. You were the one who cut the hole in the chain-link. That’s what you were doing,” I said, looking over at her.

She glanced at me sharply. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were,” I stated. “Why would you cut a hole in the fence?”

Brooke didn’t answer. She sat and stared out the windshield, her lips pressed tightly together. A perfect example of the term
clammed up
. Once you disturb a clam or, more apropos, an oyster, its single adductor muscle flexes, clamping the shell closed like a vise. You can’t force it open. You just have to wait.

Unless, of course, you have an oyster knife and you know how to use it.

What tool could I use to make her open up?

I thought about this as we rumbled along. Waiting Brooke out didn’t appeal to me. I’d spent the last week looking for this girl. I’d risked my neck, my friendships, and—thanks to my aunt Marabelle’s gold lamé—a good portion of my dignity. But Brooke didn’t know any of that.

I had a feeling that a do-you-know-what-I’ve-been-through-to-find-you lecture would roll off her like water off a duck’s back. If I wanted answers—and I very much did—I was going to have to try a different tactic.

A sudden and surprising thought hit me.

She’d asked about what I’d done with the sparrows. What if I told her the truth? I weighed the options and was a bit shocked to discover that a part of me actually wanted to share.

Everything I’d learned about Brooke—her devotion to the animals she helped care for, even her stubbornness—made me think of her as somewhat of a kindred spirit. To gain her trust, I had to get her to view me in the same way.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to open up to me. I get it. You don’t trust people. Believe me, I understand. More than you know.” I paused, then added, “But I also know it’s not easy keeping secrets.”

“Yeah,” Brooke said sarcastically. “Like you have so much to hide.”

“You might be surprised. How about this. I’ll make you a deal—a secret for a secret. You wanted to know about the birds, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll tell you how I did the trick with the birds if you promise to answer some questions.”

“And you’ll teach me how to do it?” she asked, her eagerness trumping her wariness.

“I didn’t say that. It’s not really something I can teach.” I could feel her eyeing me as she considered, but I kept my focus on the road.

“Okay, deal. But you have to tell me first.”

“You’ll probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy?” she scoffed. “I know crazy and I’m not talking about Josiah. You met Mancini, right? That guy is completely whacked. As far as I can tell, you’re not.”

We’d see about that. “I have the ability to communicate with animals. It’s something I was born with. I don’t know exactly how it works or why but that’s how I knew you’d been taken at the fence. Boris saw what happened and when he went after Hugh—Dr. Murray—he showed me a snippet of that memory.”

“Seriously?”

I couldn’t tell by her tone if she was being sarcastic or not.

I glanced over at her. “He says you smell like peppermint.”

Her eyes widened and a smile spread slowly across her face.

“Oh, wow. That is seriously the most awesome thing I have ever heard.”

“It can be a real pain in the ass, actually.”

“Come on. It’s got to be so sweet to be able to talk to animals.”

“It has its moments.”

“Can you like, talk to everything? I mean, birds, obviously. But can you talk to fish? What about beetles?”

“Beetles don’t have a lot going on in the brain department.”

“This is so awesome. What happens? You said Boris showed you a memory; is it like a movie? Or do you hear voices?”

I raised my hand to stop the onslaught of questions. She was worse than Kai.

“Enough. Now it’s my turn. I want to know what happened. Boris was sure you’d been taken, as in kidnapped. He was afraid for you. Afraid and angry.”

“I guess it’s because of the way it all went down. Josiah came up behind me and grabbed my arm. I almost screamed but he put his hand over my mouth. Totally freaked me out. But then I saw why. There was someone else in the woods.”

“Who?”

“Mancini.”

“What was Mancini doing in the woods? Looking for you, obviously, but how did he know where you were?”

“I don’t know. I guess he saw me when I stopped on the back road.”

“The one that runs behind Happy Asses?”

“Right.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I needed to mark the way through the woods. So I took a bag of birdseed and left a trail.”

“A trail? I walked all over those woods. I didn’t see—” Then I remembered. “The storms. All the seed would have washed into the ditch.”

“Probably got eaten, too—that’s why I used birdseed. I just needed to find my way on one night. After that, it didn’t matter.”

“So you
did
cut the hole in the fence. Why?”

She hesitated for a long moment.

Finally, she said, “I needed to get inside after hours.”

Not a very complete answer, but I let it go for the moment.

“Why cut the fence? Ozeal told me you have the gate code.”

“I couldn’t use it. An alarm goes off at her place when the gate is opened.”

“Okay,” I said, piecing together with some difficulty what I’d learned. “Josiah sees you at the feed and seed. He follows you. You stop to lay your birdie bread crumbs and cut the hole in the fence. Then what? Ozeal’s truck didn’t go missing. You had to have gone back to work.”

“I did.”

“But you went back into the woods.”

“When I cut the fence, it kind of pulled the chain-link apart, like a curtain. It wouldn’t stay together.”

“So you went to close it with a brass clip. Like the one Ozeal uses for her keys.”

“Yeah. That’s when Josiah grabbed me. Once I saw Mancini, I knew I had to get out of there, so I went with Josiah. He told me he saw Mancini watching me. I don’t know when or where. It’s hard to understand Josiah when he gets upset sometimes.”

“I noticed.”

“It’s not like he’s stupid,” she said defensively. “He was smart enough to know Mancini was bad news.”

“Even a beetle is smart enough to pick up on that.” I smiled at my own joke, and glanced at Brooke. She glared at me.

“What?”

“You don’t have to make fun of him.”

“I wasn’t,” I said, confused. Weren’t we just talking about beetle brains?

“He can’t help it.”

“I know that.” People rarely got my sense of humor, which was why I usually didn’t employ it. “I was talking about Mancini’s creepiness, not Josiah’s intellect.”

“Well, anyway, I think Josiah saw Mancini go into the woods where I left the trail, and followed him.”

I mulled it over as we drove down the long, two-lane road. “Maybe . . .” I said as my thoughts came together. “There’s a restaurant, Cooper’s or whatever it’s called. It’s right down the road. Mancini could have been headed there and spotted you.”

“Cooper’s Catch?”

“That’s it.”

“I forgot it was down that way. It’s one of my dad’s places. He used to take me there for fried catfish when I was little. He said I was a picky eater, but I loved the stuff at Cooper’s Catch.”

The emotion in her voice became more palpable the longer she talked about her father. Whatever kind of criminal enterprise he ran, she loved him.

“I didn’t get a chance to try the food when I was there.”

“They have banana splits, too. I haven’t been there since . . .” She trailed off.

I glanced at Brooke. From the way her voice had grown soft and thick, I expected to see tears, but she’d kept them at bay. Practice makes perfect.

“What are they after? Mancini and Ferretto,” I asked, to steer the subject into less sentimental waters.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

“Because whatever it is, I got mugged because they thought I had it.”

“Mugged?”

“At gunpoint,” I added. “And the jerk threatened to shoot my dog.”

“What?” she asked, anger coloring her voice.

“Yeah, so, I deserve to know.”

“It’s a key.”

“A key? To what, a car?”

“To a safety deposit box. My mom gave it to me. She told me my dad would want me to have what’s in the box for my sixteenth birthday. She said when he got out of jail, we could go together and open it.”

Out of nowhere, understanding hit me. “You wanted to hide the key. That’s why you cut the hole in the fence.”

“I put it in Boris’s enclosure.”

“Which you could only get into after he’d been put in his house for the night.” I nodded, impressed. It was pretty smart. Who would think to look in the tiger cage?

“What would Ferretto want with a sweet-sixteen gift?” I asked. “Do you know what’s in the box?”

She shook her head.

I didn’t believe Charles Sartori would endanger his daughter by giving her something his enemies would kill for. It didn’t make sense. And no one other than Sartori would have been able to gain access to the box anyway. Nothing was adding up.

“Are you sure they were after the key?” I asked.

“I can’t think of anything else.”

“It doesn’t matter, the police will sort everything out. We’ve just got to get you—”

“Police? You can’t take me to the cops.”

“Brooke, these guys are after you. You need to be in protective custody. I have a friend—”

“No. You don’t understand. Frank has snitches everywhere—even with the cops.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. She was going to the JSO whether she liked it or not. My resolve must have been clear because she unbuckled her seat belt and started to open the door.

I slammed on the brakes. A horn blared behind us and I had to hit the gas.

“Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not going to the cops.”

“So you jump out of a moving car? We’re going sixty miles an hour! You’d be roadkill.”

“You take me to the cops, and I’ll be just as dead.” She inched the door open.

“Okay! I won’t take you to the cops. Close the door! And put your seat belt back on,” I added.

She complied but said, “I know where the sheriff’s office is; I’ve been there enough times. If you go anywhere near it, I’ll get out and run.”

“I said I wouldn’t take you to the police and I meant it.”

“So, where are we going?”

“To the only other person I know who’s capable of protecting you.”

“Emma?” I called out my sister’s name as I opened the door to the condo. “We have company.”

“Who’s Emma?”

“My sister.”

Moss trotted into the foyer to welcome me home and assess our visitor.

As expected, Brooke was impressed with my dog.

“Whoa, you have a wolf?”

“He’s a hybrid. Moss, this is Brooke. Brooke, Moss.”

I said my introductions as I walked past them, tossed my keys on the foyer table, and went into the kitchen.

“Hi, Moss.” I could hear Brooke cooing from the entryway. “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”

Smug satisfaction radiated from my dog. Moss loved to be told he was pretty.

Handsome. Moss.

I rolled my eyes.

Okay, everyone knows you’re the best-looking mutt around.

Handsome.

Without compare,
I agreed. Then decided to change the subject before he got too carried away.
Where’s Emma?

Beach.

I checked for a note on the counter and found one that said she was headed for a run.

I opened the fridge to grab something to drink. The sound spurred Moss to abandon his new admirer for the prospect of food.

“Emma went for a run without you,” I told him as he trotted into the kitchen.

Bad Emma
.

“Well, she probably thought you would be a brat and yank her around like you did the last time.”

Dinner.

“She didn’t feed you, either?”

Bad Emma.

I went to fill his bowl and noticed Brooke standing at the entrance to the kitchen staring at me.

“What?”

“Are you . . . like, talking to him?”

“Yes. Can’t you hear me talking to him?”

“I mean—is he, like, talking back?”

I knew what she’d meant but I didn’t feel comfortable with the odd look on her face. It occurred to me that I might have made a mistake telling her the truth. What were the chances a sixteen-year-old would be able to keep my secret?

Yes, I had revealed my ability to more people in the last few months than I had in the last ten years. But I didn’t want to put it on a billboard.

I handed Brooke a can of soda and said, “Listen, I was being straight with you earlier when I told you that my ability is a secret. Actually, you’re one of maybe ten people in the world who know what I can do. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Why? What you do is awesome. It’s like a superpower or something.”

“Maybe. But the truth is, out of those few people I’ve told, one wanted to arrest me and another thought I was a freak and never spoke to me again. Those aren’t very good odds.”

“A freak? Come on. Whoever said that was a hater.”

“Yeah, well, at the time, I thought he was pretty important and believed he felt the same about me. So . . .”

Brooke looked down at the can and fiddled with the tab. Finally, she popped the top and took a sip.

“You don’t want me to talk about it,” she said.

“That would be best.”

I could tell she was disappointed. She’d probably envisioned all the ways I could save the world by chatting up chipmunks.

“You mean I can’t ever talk to you about it?” She fiddled with the tab on her drink some more, pushing it left and right with her index finger. “Like, even if there isn’t anyone else around?”

“We can talk about it privately.”

“Okay.” She pulled her gaze away from the can and looked at me. “Was Boris really upset when I left?”

“Yes. He missed you a lot.”

“I would have come and visited him if I had known.” She paused, then asked, “Is that why you were looking for me? Because of Boris?”

“And because no one else was looking. The police couldn’t help because you hadn’t been reported missing.”

“So my mom . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Never mind. Bob wouldn’t have let her talk to the cops even if she wanted to. He—” Brooke’s face darkened and Moss went over to lean against her leg, offering comfort. Brooke automatically reached out and curled her fingers into his ruff.

“You don’t have to explain. I know how Ligner treated your mom.”

“You do?”

“I talked to Felix.”

Her lips curled up slightly at that. I hated to take away even such a tenuous smile but I knew it was time to tell her about her mother.

“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I explained what I’d learned from Jake and at the hospital.

“So my mom’s a druggie? Great.”

“I heard one of the nurses say she’s going into rehab. So she’s going to get help.”

“This is so messed up,” Brooke said. “My mom used to be, like, a real mom.”

She absently stroked one of Moss’s ears. My dog looked up at her, then at me.

Nice.

Yeah, she’s a nice kid.

Okay?

She’s tough. She’ll be fine.

“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I think your mom was trying to stand up for you.” Brooke looked up and met my eyes. “I saw the video you took on your phone.”

I explained the discovery of her purse, the trek through the woods, and how I’d only remembered I had her phone that morning.

“Your stepdad was mad because your mom hadn’t gotten the key back from you. She didn’t want to take away the only thing you’d gotten from your father. She refused to give Ligner that.”

“It was my birthday. That night, I mean. I’d snuck out to meet my boyfriend, Stefan, and when I got home, I went around back to go through my window. But the light was on. I heard Bob yelling at my mom . . .” She trailed off.

“I know—you don’t have to go into that.”

She shook her head. “But that’s why I did it. I had my phone and I thought maybe if I got him on video I could make him stop, you know? Tell him I’d call the cops if he touched her again or something. So I got as close as I could but he’d already hit her, I think. And then, well, you heard what he said. I knew I’d have to get out of there until my dad was released.”

“Your dad’s worried about you.”

“I know. I wanted to send him a message. Let him know I was okay. But I couldn’t trust anyone.”

That made me wonder.

“Brooke, do you remember someone named Logan from when you were younger?”

“Yeah.” She cocked her head. “Why?”

“How did you know him?”

“I don’t know. He was around a lot when I was a kid. I think he went off to fight in some war or something. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Yes, you have.”

I told her about Yard Guy.

“No way! He like, grew up. I mean, majorly. And he’s, like, smoking hot.”

At least it confirmed part of Logan’s story but I still wasn’t sure I completely trusted him. As much as I wanted to let Sartori know Brooke was safe, I had no way to deliver that message.

Another question popped into my head, though I didn’t expect an answer.

“Does the word
hide
mean anything to you?”

“Hide?”

“One of the times I was talking to Boris, he showed me you and said the word
hide
.”

“Did you give him catnip?”

I blinked at her, surprised. “Yeah.”

“The woman who used to own him trained Boris to do all sorts of stuff. You know, tricks.”

“Hugh mentioned Boris was being trained for film production.”

“Right. Ozeal told me he’d learned how to act, too, sort of. With hand signals and certain words. Not like you tell a dog to sit or roll over. Different words.”

“And
hide
was one of them?”

“Yeah. I got a list from his old owner.”

“What’s he supposed to do?”

“Lie down and put his paws over his face. Like this.” She set the drink on the counter and covered her eyes with her hands.

“I don’t get it. Why would he tell me that?”

“It was the trick we’d been working on. I’d give him his catnip if he did it.”

Now it made sense. “So you rewarded Boris with catnip if he responded to the command to hide. I gave him catnip. Which reminded him of both you and the trick you were working on with him.”

Emma arrived a moment later, calling out something about running late as she came through the door. She stopped when she reached the kitchen and saw Brooke.

“Oh! Hey.” Emma gave the girl a friendly smile. “Sorry, I didn’t expect Grace to have company.”

My sister looked from me to Brooke and sudden recognition widened her eyes. “Oh my God! You found her.”

“Hiding in the bushes.”

“It was corn.”

“Corn?” Emma asked.

“It’s a long story. What were you saying about being late?”

“I have to meet clients and I haven’t had time to plan dinner. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I’m always up for pizza.”

Pizza.
Moss wagged his tail and let out a low
woof.

“Moss is in favor of pizza, too,” I told her.

“That is so cool,” Brooke said, grinning.

My sister’s brows rose in surprise. “Okay, I am going to have to hear this story. Order food while I hop in the shower and then you guys can fill me in.”

Thirty minutes later we were seated at the dining room table, munching on pizza.

“So she did the bird thing, huh?” Emma asked.

“Yeah, it was wild.”

Emma leaned back and took a sip of red wine. “So, you don’t even know what’s in the safe deposit box?”

“No,” Brooke said. “My mom just gave me the key and said there was something from my dad in it for me.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, looking at Brooke. “Ferretto’s goal is to do a hostile takeover of your dad’s organization. So whatever’s in the box has to help him achieve that—it can’t just be a gift for you.”

“Maybe it’s something that will keep Sartori in jail. Evidence,” Emma said.

“What kind of evidence? He’s not going to keep a bloody knife next to something he’s saving as a gift for his daughter, is he?”

We both looked at Brooke.

“No! And my dad might be a criminal but he is not a murderer.”

Emma and I shared a dubious glance.

“I mean it,” Brooke said, affronted. “He isn’t like Frank and those other guys. He has principles.”

“I still don’t get how Ligner figures into this.” Emma changed the subject, setting her pizza on her plate and brushing her fingers on a napkin.

“I’ve been wondering about him, too,” I said. “Even if he found out there was something incriminating in the box, he would have to have known about Ferretto’s plans to betray Sartori for it to have been useful.”

“Maybe not,” she mused. “Ferretto might have approached Ligner. Asked him to get the key.”

“True. But why not just take it from Brooke? Plan a mugging—something they’re obviously more than capable of arranging.”

“You’re right. It would be pretty easy to steal it.”

“Too risky,” Brooke said. “Word would get back to my dad if I was mugged and the key was stolen. He’d know something was up for sure.”

“And he’d know what they were after,” Emma said. “Assuming there is more in the box than a birthday gift.”

“The important thing is that Ferretto doesn’t have the key,” I said. “Which means Sartori will be released and Brooke will be safe.”

“So, we’ve just got to keep you on lockdown for another day,” Emma told Brooke.

The girl gave my sister an appraising look. “Grace said you were some sort of kung fu master.”

“Something like that. Between me and fluff butt over there we got you covered.”

“Hey, what about me?” I said. “I’m a certified haiku, remember?”

“Rokyu,”
Emma said.

“Whatever. I kicked butt on my aikido test.”

“Yeah, you’re so scary you had to ruin my boots running away from the crazy guy following Stefan. I will be expecting you to replace them, by the way. Try not to have a heart attack when you get the bill.”

“Wait!” Brooke said. “Someone was following Stefan?”

“Mancini.”

Her face paled and she grabbed my phone. “I need to call him and make sure he’s okay.”

“No”—I plucked the phone from her hands—“you don’t. Brooke, listen to me, they were following Stefan because they were hoping you’d contact him. Doing that will only put him at risk.”

She slumped her shoulders, completely dejected for a moment, then her face brightened.

“What if you call?”

I shook my head.

“Please? All you have to do is ask him if he’s okay. You said you’d met him, right?”

“I did.”

“Well, just call him. Ask if he’s heard from me or something. You can even tell him that you saw some people around that could be dangerous. You could warn him.”

I looked at my sister, silently pleading for backup.

“It can’t hurt,” Emma said. “Even if Ferretto’s got eyes on Stefan, they don’t know Brooke is with you and as long as you’re sure to make it sound like you’re still looking for her, it may even keep them off the right track.”

“Right! Exactly.”

I gave in and called Stefan, reminded him who I was, and asked if he’d heard from Brooke.

“How did you get my number?” he asked, voice heavy with wangster attitude.

“Devine intervention.”

“Huh?”

“Listen, Stefan—”

“What the—” There was a sharp intake of breath. “No.”