Hybrid Zone Recognition (7 page)

Opening it, I peered inside hopefully and found that he had far surpassed my expectations. I thought perhaps some cheese and crackers, but that was not what I was looking at. He had covered all the forms of chocolate, liquid, solid and gooey.

He was no longer Catboy. He was now Catman. I could show respect when it was due. Anticipating my needs, particularly my food needs, and meeting them definitely qualified for respect in my book.

You might think with my love of eating I’d be huge. Or, as we say in Texas, as big as the side of a house, but I wasn’t. I kept up with my eating by running and weight lifting. I knew exactly how far and how fast I had to run to outpace the Oreos. And if I do say so myself, I looked good. Curves in all the right places. I was a lot more solid than I looked thanks to the weights. No waify model here.

I busied myself rifling through the little bag of heaven. I froze when my eyes locked on a familiar wrapper. Was that…a fried chocolate pie? I hadn’t had one of those in at least a month. I ripped the package open and took a bite, sighing as the chocolate pudding filled my mouth.

It was official, Catman loved me.

My chewing slowed as I eyed Catman who was suddenly making a strangled coughing sound. Was he trying to smother a laugh? Was Catman telepathic? Cats weren’t telepathic. No animal was telepathic. However, the only time that I had heard him speak was when he had addressed me. How was he communicating with the other Clones?

I wanted to ask what was going on, but I knew what I would get in response. It seemed I had no choice but to wait for the Director to answer my questions. Knowing I wasn’t going to figure it out right then, I settled in to finish my assorted chocolates.

It occurred to me that though I might not be able to figure out everything, I could conduct a little experiment. Focusing solely on Catman, I told him,
Thank you
.

He had no verbal response, but he did slightly nod his head.

Oh. My. God! He could hear me. This could be really great or really embarrassing. I cringed as I tried to recall all the things I’d thought since being with him. Only about thirty or forty embarrassing things. No big deal, right?

I wanted to run and hide, but there was nowhere to go in here. And how could you hide from a telepath anyway?

My mind began spinning with all the possibilities associated with telepathy. I had a whole new set of questions now. Did he hear everything or only things I directed at him? Could everyone hear me or just him? Was I broadcasting everything I thought?

Good Lord, these people would get tired of me real quick. I never really shut up mentally. I thought a lot. Even if I wasn’t verbalizing, the brain was still going.

Did that mean I needed to erect some kind of telepathy barrier? And how the heck would I do that? Really, I needed the telepathy handbook and a note pad to write down my questions.

But no one handed me pen and paper, so maybe I wasn’t broadcasting, or they were ignoring me, as usual. Or maybe they had erected their own barriers against me. Not sure how I felt about that possibility, but I could understand it.

I crushed the bag with the leftover trash in my hands. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the Director. And God help him if I came across pen and paper.

Chapter 5

I
t was right around dark
when we finally arrived at what I called an estate. Given that it was late summer, that put it around eight o’clock in the evening. I’d been traveling all day on two breakfast trays and a bagful of chocolate. I needed a shower, a change of clothes, and something to eat. As I had nothing with me, I hoped they’d thought of everything.

Catman held the door open for me while I exited the SUV. My muscles severely protested their engagement after so long a rest. Yikes, I was stiff.

He raised his eyebrows at me questioningly.

I assumed it was in response to the grimace on my face, but I was not going to tell him that my butt hurt. Or think it. Dang it. I’d already thought it. Shaking my head in disgust, I motioned for him to lead the way.

He shut the door to the SUV and started up what was a very long stone patio area. “You will find the showers refreshing,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Was he amused? He sounded amused. I was not amused. Some things just didn’t need to be shared on a first date.

My view of the grounds was somewhat limited by the descending darkness, but I could determine there were rolling hills off in one direction and woods in the other. The house itself appeared to be your standard stone mansion or palace. Not like I’d know the appropriate term. What I did know was that it was beautiful, especially all lit up.

Stepping through the door into the foyer left my mouth hanging open. “Wow,” I breathed.

From floor to ceiling it was opulence. A black and white diamond patterned floor stretched as far as I could see. Dark wood paneling and woodwork were everywhere, including the twin gigantic curved staircases we now faced.

Walking across the foyer, I suddenly felt small. This place was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. It reminded me of something you would find in the English countryside. Well, I guessed you would. Again, not an expert in this sort of thing.

“It’s a mix of European architecture,” Catman supplied.

I’d forgotten he was standing there. Looking up at him, I got my second look at his eyes without the glasses. They were still green, but they no longer had the elongated pupil, which meant he had the ability to reverse his trait. Very interesting. And, he’d just answered my unspoken thoughts. Were we acknowledging the telepathy thing?

He maintained eye contact with me for just a moment longer than necessary before turning his back to me. “I’ll show you to your room,” he said.

Guess not.

Taking the lead again, he preceded me up the stairs. Gotta love the view. The sculpting in this place was amazing. He harrumphed at my assessment, and I smiled at his backside as we continued to climb.

At the top of the stairs, we turned right, and that was about the only turn direction that I would remember. We wove right and left so many times that I thought we should have ended up where we started. Finally, we stood before a door that I presumed led to my room.

He knocked and opened the door to reveal Ms. Needham seated in a receiving area. She looked up as the door opened and nodded once to Catman.

“Welcome, Dr. Greer. Please come in and forgive the intrusion, but I have some details to go over with you before you turn in for the evening. I have also been apprised of your nutritional needs,” she said, motioning towards the table between her and an unoccupied chair.

On the table were a couple of platters with meats, cheeses, breads, fruit and a lonely can of soda.

“Was the apprising your doing?” I asked, looking back at Catman as I stepped into the room.

He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and one foot braced against the trim, watching me intently. What did he expect me to do? Fall on the trays and devour them? I wasn’t a food vampire. I just liked to eat. It might have had something to do with a shortage of food growing up, but I wasn’t going to psychoanalyze it.

“What?” I asked in irritation when he continued to stare.

He lowered his foot and uncrossed his arms. “Enjoy your shower,” was all he said as he turned to leave.

Why did he have that look on his face?

I frowned and walked back to the door. Peering down the hallway, I watched until he turned a corner, putting him out of sight. I didn’t know what the look meant, but I didn’t think it was good. Catman was mysterious.

I supposed I’d have to learn his name eventually. I’d make it my mission. Something to look forward to tomorrow.

“Everything alright?” Ms. Needham called softly.

I closed the door and turned my attention back to the room and its contents. “Hunky Dory,” I said without emotion.

This was one weird kidnapping. Totally not what I would have expected. Not that I had dreams about being kidnapped. But I was pretty sure that if I did, private jets and mansions wouldn’t have been a part of them.

I slid into the chair opposite her and started making myself a sandwich. “So, what are these details I need to know?”

She picked up a notepad and flipped the page. “For starters, once I leave this room, you will not be allowed to leave until I come to retrieve you in the morning.”

I had a new mission, to make that notepad mine.

I rearranged my sandwich, adding a good deal more cheese to one side and then carefully cut the sandwich in half.

“No nighttime escapades. Got it,” I said.

She checked off the first item on her list, and then she noticed me eyeing the notepad. “I like to make actual physical lists that I can have with me. That way I don’t forget anything. I know I could do it on a tablet device,” she shrugged, “but I just haven’t made the transition yet.”

Whatever. I was only interested in divesting her of the notepad, not her reasoning behind it. I was counting on the hope that she, like me, hadn’t eaten yet.

“What’s next?” I said through a mouthful of pastrami and Colby Jack.

“This will be your suite for the duration of your stay here. You are free to go into any of the rooms in this suite. If you need anything, you can ring the—”

“How many rooms does it have?” I was curious. I’d never stayed in a suite in a mansion before.

“There are six rooms in this suite. This one, the bedroom, bathroom, exercise, office and a casual living area that has a small kitchen.”

Just like an apartment, and had she rattled that off rather quickly?

“As I was saying, if you need anything, there is a list of phone numbers by the house phone that tells you who to call for whatever you need.”

“Where is the house phone?”

“In the office.”

“Which is where?”

She looked up from her list, irritation clearly written on her face. I suppressed the urge to smile at her. She was getting grouchy, and her words had lost that professional detachment. Also, just as hoped, her eyes were greedily following my sandwich as I took another bite. Can’t say I was too impressed with the lack of priority they attached to eating around here.

I waved the other half of my sandwich in front of her, drawing her angered attention back to my face. “I’ll trade you this half of sandwich for your notepad.”

She didn’t hesitate. She ripped off the front page and pushed the notepad over while simultaneously grabbing the proffered sandwich. “Thank God,” she mewed. “I’m starving.”

“I noticed that the Clones never seemed to eat. Don’t they feed ya’ll?”

She barked out a laugh, sending a piece of pastrami flying. “Clones. Too true.” She swallowed and took another bite. “Oh, they eat,” she garbled. “A lot. Just maybe not at regular intervals. You’ll see.”

“Will I?” I studied her face, searching for any clue as to the reason I was here.

“Yes, I think you will,” she said as she continued to eat her sandwich, albeit not as fast as she had in the beginning. Little gummy was it?

Back on task, she returned to her list. “There are clothes in the closet. Everything you need should be there and in your size.” She was visibly struggling now. “But if you don’t find something you need…”

I couldn’t make out that last part. “What?” I asked innocently. I had to work to keep the smile off my face as I popped the top on my soda.

She quirked her eyebrow at me. Could everyone do that here?

“Trade you the soda for your pen.”

She put her hand over her mouth as she put effort into plying her jaws apart. The cheese worked better than I had anticipated. Granted, the ratio of pastrami to cheese on her sandwich was probably ten to one, but I hadn’t realized the difficulty it presented. I was just after her pen and paper, not her death.

She coughed raggedly before swallowing, and then while smiling behind her hand, she managed to get out, “You’re a real tough negotiator.”

I could tell she meant the exact opposite, but she handed me the pen, and I handed her the soda. Maybe I wasn’t the best negotiator. But I knew enough to pile the cheese on her half of the sandwich so that she would most definitely need a source of liquid, and I got what I was after. I’d call that a success.

“So what else is on the list?” I asked when I thought she’d recovered enough to continue.

She was currently swishing the soda around her mouth in an effort to thin the layers of cheese glued to her teeth. She flipped the list around and pushed it towards me.

I was going to have to rethink the elegance I had attributed to her when we’d first met. She was appearing less and less elegant with every second that passed. Since I myself made no claim to elegance, I much preferred her this way.

I scanned down her list and checked off her number four and five. Reading further, I went through the next items. Wake up call at six a.m. She would be escorting me to the Director at seven a.m. sharp. Wear a suit.

I lifted my eyes from the list to find her disassembling her sandwich. She had given up eating the sandwich as a whole and was peeling the layers off and eating them separately. Now this was the portrayal of a woman I could respect, letting nothing come between her and her food.

I tapped the offending note with the pen. “You do not trust me to dress appropriately?”

She paused with a wad of pastrami between her fingers. “At this point, your actions still reflect on me. I thought I’d cover my bases.” Then unashamedly, she popped the chunk into her mouth.

Looking into her eyes, I could discern her unspoken comment that she knew what my preferred attire was, and it wasn’t a suit.

“And, there’s the fact that you have a tendency to be a little…unpredictable?”

Was she commenting or asking? I couldn’t tell as I glared at her. I wouldn’t characterize myself as unpredictable. I just liked to do things the way I wanted to.

“Is stubborn a better word?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.

I’d been called that a time or two, or more. But who, when given the choice, would choose to wear a suit over jeans?

I shifted my eyes to the page for one last look. “Alrighty then, I think we’re done with the official welcome.” And insult, I added silently.

“Actually, that won’t come until after we know your status here.”

That was an interesting choice of words. “Do I have a choice in my status?”

“There are always choices. Do you have any questions related to what we have gone over?”

“Let me guess, if I say no, then we are done for the evening.”

She swiped one of the provided napkins and wiped her face and hands. Scooting her chair back, she started gathering her stuff. “As I’ve said, you do learn quickly, Dr. Greer.”

Just for that, I wasn’t telling her she missed a good size piece of Colby Jack stuck to the side of her face. Instead, I smiled and said, “I do my best.” Doing my best not to stare at the Colby Jack, I clarified my previous statement. “When I want to.”

She scooped up her brief case and walked towards the door. As she reached for the handle, she turned and looked me in the eye. “Let’s hope your best is good enough.”

That sounded ominous.

“Good night, Dr. Greer.”

“Good night, Ms. Needham.”

She pulled the door closed behind her, and I pressed my ear against it. Her heels clicked loudly on the tile floor and then faded to a stop. I heard a soft male voice, then her irritated growl. The guard must have pointed it out to her.

Her raised voice quickly followed her growl. “Two can play that game, Dr. Greer. Sleep tight.”

Uh oh. I hoped I hadn’t bitten off more than I could chew. The irony of that thought, more than I could chew, caused me to shake with laughter. I never would have bet being kidnapped could be so much fun.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I walked over and picked up the pen and notepad. It was time to get to work and, more importantly, to take a shower. With essential writing instruments in hand, I opened the pocket doors leading to the rest of the suite.

Immediately after the receiving room was the casual living area Ms. Needham had described. There were three doors leading out of this room, two to the left and one to the right. I chose the first door on the left. It contained a nicely equipped exercise room. The second door opened to reveal quite a large bedroom that included lots of soft yellows and bright reds.

I tossed the notepad and pen on the bed and walked towards the bathroom that I could see through a large archway on the other side of the room. Feeling for the light switch, I found it and flipped it on.

“Goodness,” I breathed.

It looked like some sort of Roman era bath. It was huge with marble everywhere. The tub by itself took up one entire wall, and there were stairs I would have to climb to get into it. And, I guess that was the shower?

Entering the bathroom, I came to a stop in front of a glass contraption. It did not fit the old world theme at all. The back wall had a large control panel with the word NOLA engraved in its center. Surrounding it were all kinds of nozzles and gadgets with even more spaced irregularly throughout the shower. Some of them looked like they had moving parts.

I stood there baffled, wondering whether I should put me or my dishes in. Stepping inside, I studied the controls, but I didn’t know what the various terminologies meant. I’d never encountered a shower like this before.

“This should come with a warning label. Must have license to operate.”

I reached my hand towards the controls and heard a whoosh behind me. Turning swiftly, I found that I was sealed in. Oops, it also came equipped with an overly sensitive touchpad. I pressed against the glass door that had appeared out of nowhere, but nothing happened.