Tiger's Eye (6 page)

“I’ll do some work on her in the morning.” Fiona was sifting through the cabinets, finally settling on some plain saltine crackers. She tossed a few to Keesha who caught them one by one. She seemed livelier already. “Come back around noon and we’ll discuss my findings.”

My great-aunt was at the back steps, poised to turn the island light off when I said, “Will you keep her here until we find out who her family is? With Thor, I mean, you know…”

Fiona chuckled and shook her head. “That, my dear niece, depends on your grandmother.” She floated up the back stairs, her robe waving behind her, the soft click of dog nails echoing her steps.

I let myself out and jogged the few feet to my cottage, taking one long, last look at the moon. This time of year, at its fullest, pagans refer to it as the Mead Moon because of all the honey wine they prepare in anticipation of the solstice celebration, or Litha—the longest and strongest sun day of the year. Hence the term honeymoon for those after-wedding trips that take place in June.

I took a few calming breaths, releasing the stress of the day. Exhaustion was settling deeper into my bones, but the alcohol was wearing off.

As I gazed upward, right before my eyes, the iridescent ball of light in the sky transformed into the giant head of a white tiger. It blinked its turquoise eyes just once.

Then it was gone.

Chapter 6

“The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.”

—Samuel Butler

When you’ve tossed and turned in bed all night because someone was hogging the covers, the pillows, and the entire mattress, the best way to wake up is alone and with the aroma of bacon sizzling on the stove.

Plus coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened this Sunday morning.

“Son of an assjacket,” I mumbled. “Please get off me.” His shoulder was smothering my face and his position led me to believe that I was functioning as a teddy bear.

He rolled over, kicking my stomach in the process, and let out a fart that could clear a morgue.

“Jesus, Moses, and Frank!” I fanned the covers like a maniac, on the verge of kicking him back when Chance ducked his head into my bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” He was wearing a pair of sweats and a short white apron with nothing else north of the navel.

Thor was still sprawled across the bed, snoring happily and drooling all over my pillow.

“I just hate being woken up in the middle of a headlock. It’s unnerving.” I slipped out of bed and reached for my purple silk robe.

“Who is Frank?”

“You know, Frank. The apostle.” I stuffed my feet in fuzzy slippers and faced him.

He was biting his bottom lip.

“What?”

“I don’t think there was an apostle named Frank.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Dammit, Birdie,” I grumbled and made my way into the bathroom.

I hated it when she played tricks like that. For some reason, she found it amusing to feed me false information about any religion but her own.

This one was going on my payback list.

I did my business and washed up. The cottage had an open floor plan, with the living room, bathroom, and kitchen all spilling into each other. Chance was at the counter pouring two glasses of orange juice when I opened the bathroom door. The muscles in his back flexed with the flow of his arm movements, his skin sun-kissed from working outdoors. It was a yummy sight that only enhanced the sugary scent of maple syrup and rich butter melting in a pan.

“You hungry?” Chance asked. “I’m making French toast.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I circled around and kissed his shoulder, and then I poured myself a cup of coffee and plopped on a stool at the breakfast bar. There was a pillow and a neatly folded blanket on the sofa cushion.

“Did you sleep in the living room?” I asked.

Chance whisked milk and eggs together. He nodded as he reached for the spice rack above the stove. “I tried to get Thor off the bed, but when he’s that tired, there’s no point in arguing with him and I certainly wasn’t going to force the issue.” He sprinkled some cinnamon into the batter, whisked again, and sliced off four pieces of Lolly’s homemade sweet bread. “You need a bigger bed.” He winked.

“Maybe I’ll just get Thor his own.” I wondered if he would need a queen like mine. I also wondered where I would put it in my one-bedroom home. “I promised I’d take him swimming today. Do you want to come?” I took a sip of my coffee. Delicious.

“Sorry, babe, I have a couple of jobs to bid this morning.”

“On a Sunday?”

Chance flipped the French toast, which smelled divine. “No such thing as a lazy summer for a good contractor.” He smiled at me as he slid a plate of perfectly crafted carbohydrates in front of me. “Besides, you’ve worked many a Sunday.”

That was true. I helped out at the inn whenever I was needed, but no one asked me to do that this weekend, so I was on furlough. Perhaps the house wasn’t full after all or perhaps it was a group of repeat customers, who are often easier to service.

Chance said, “How about dinner?”

I smiled back at him and reached for a napkin and a fork. “Sounds great. My place?”

“Nah, why don’t we go out and get pampered?”

“Deal.” We clicked our juice glasses together and Thor announced that he was ready to rise by bellowing out a wide-mouthed yawn and shaking the bedroom floor with his weight.

A cardinal’s song wafted through the screen door and Thor sauntered over to watch the little red bird as he fluttered into a nearby spruce tree that sat between the cottage and the main house. Thor looked rather annoyed that such a tiny creature could make all that racket. The dog bowed, sticking his huge ass in the air, then followed through to up-dog, stretching his chest to capacity. Ready to reclaim the tree the cardinal was about to call home, Thor raised a meaty paw to the latch and slapped the door open.

Chance watched as he trotted off the porch. “Not really a morning guy, is he?”

“Neither was Cinnamon.” My cousin was Thor’s original person before I moved back to town from Chicago. Thor decided that was an error that needed rectifying. He’d lived with me ever since.

I thanked Chance for the meal and dug into my French toast, savoring every bite.

After breakfast, I cleaned up the dishes and kissed Chance good-bye. We agreed that I would make the restaurant reservations when Thor and I returned from swimming.

When he heard the word
swimming
, Thor pranced around the yard like a new puppy, barking and yipping at the air. I coaxed him inside, put my hair up, slipped
into a swimsuit, and packed us a bag full of towels, water, and peanut butter dog treats. Thor disappeared into the bedroom to search for his rubber octopus. His favorite water toy.

It was still early. The heat hadn’t quite settled over the town yet as I loaded Thor and the bag into the backseat of my SUV. We could have walked there, because it was just on the other side of town, but with all the excitement yesterday and as heavy as my pooch slept last night, I feared that a long walk coupled with an exhilarating swim might result in a dog too tired to make the trip home. And it was no fun trying to push Thor back up that steep hill when he didn’t want to go, believe me. He’s been known to hitchhike home.

I slid my sunglasses over my nose and drove the few blocks to the conservation area that led to the lake. There’s a dead-end street nearby where I like to park for easy access to the trail. I pulled into a slot, clipped a leash on Thor, and grabbed our stuff. The quietest part of the lake was on the opposite side from where the festival had taken place the night before. This area had a single picnic table with a small patch of beach that was a bit rocky, a bit overgrown with weeds, but where a Great Dane could dig, splash, and frolic without obliterating a sandcastle or sending a rip current over a ten-year-old’s head.

I removed Thor’s leash and tossed it on the table. As I fished inside the bag for a bottle of water, Thor stuck his head inside to find “Octi.” He emerged with it, tossing the thing in the air, and squeaking the life out of it. Luckily the water bottle suffered minimal slobber.

“Hang on, buddy. Let me take off my cover-up first.” I kicked away my flip-flops and removed the purple terry cloth sundress, setting it on top of the bag.

Then I forgot all about my parents, the tiger, the collie, even the clown, and just had a riotous time with my best pal.

We played catch and tag for a couple of hours before it was time for a break. I tossed Thor some of his cookies, poured fresh water into his portable bowl, and grabbed a bottle for myself.

The sun was high in the sky by that time so we sprawled out on the sand and relaxed for a bit, enjoying the quiet symphony of twittering birds, croaking frogs, and musical insects. Thor took an interest in an army of ants that were transporting supplies back to their troops, while I pulled out my Kindle and settled into a good murder mystery.

I got through four chapters before Thor charged into the lake again after an unsuspecting dragonfly. The sweat was pouring off me and I decided to take a dip too. I walked out into the lake, enchanted by a crane that must have swooped in from the Mississippi. She stood on an outer bank, gobbling bugs and pecking at berries, her impossibly thin legs balanced on a log. I waded out farther into the lake, squishing my toes into the wet sand before I finally felt a mucky cold sludge where the sand dropped off and the basin was deeper. I did a few far-reaching breaststrokes when I heard a sharp squawk. I looked back to find the crane twisting her neck, cawing and calling when—to my complete astonishment—her delicate beak bulged, her legs swelled, and her body stretched and rippled until it finally morphed into the white tiger from the tree.

She took a few steps toward the lake, her body gracefully navigating the thick brush, flattening cattails and phlox with her thick paws. Then a few more steps. Then a few more. Soon she was standing on top of the water, her reflection casting a mirror image across the glassy surface.

I blinked, cartoon style.

White tigers represent focus, courage, and strength. They are considered “sisters of the moon,” able to harness lunar magic and other feminine energies.

Which was why I was shocked by her presence in the daylight.

Well, that and the fact that they are not native to this area, or, to my knowledge, possess the ability to float on water.

She lowered her mighty head, her eyes trained on me, and I nearly peed my suit. My arms started shaking as I tried to conjure up the lesson she was here to teach before she got any closer.

Think, Stacy.

Tigers were associated with water. Good swimmers. Devoted mothers. They had stamina, patience, and strength. Power. They were messengers of, of…what? Was it adventure? Yes, that, but…something else too.

And then it hit me.

Truth. Danger.

Uh-oh.

I twirled around, a complete 360-degree turn, the water lapping over my shoulders, my eyes darting every which way.

The trees were still, save for a slight rustling from a summer breeze. No movement across the way either. The
lake was calm. No boats. No swimmers. No hockey-masked men with chain saws.

But I felt it in my gut. The nausea came in a rush, and a lesson that Birdie had been drilling into my head for years echoed in my mind.
Always be on guard, always heed the warnings your body and the spirit guides are trying to tell you
.

Harmful intent.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, then backstroked toward the beach, keeping my eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.

Off the left bank, Thor was digging a hole in the sand, oblivious to the tiger and to my panic.

Another deep breath.

If Thor wasn’t concerned, that was a good sign. Very good, because it surely meant that if he didn’t sense danger, it wasn’t going to happen now. The tiger was just telling me that something ominous loomed and that I needed to prepare.

I set my gaze on her, hoping to signal that I understood and to thank her for the warning.

Her sea foam eyes darkened, her pink nose twitched. She cocked her head as if to say, “I tried to tell you.”

And then I was plunged into the belly of the lake.

Chapter 7