Secrets (22 page)

Her cell phone rang, sending her heart flipping, but it wasn't Casey. Still, it was almost as good news. A woman looking for cats, plural, had checked the Cats Alive website and had selected two potential candidates. Michelle made arrangements to meet the woman and her two children at one of her longest active foster moms', Evelyn Duro. Evelyn had taken in foster cats from the inception of the cat rescue. In her retirement years, Evelyn was patient and kind and a genuine cat lover.

There was always a steady stream of homeless cats needing homes, but fortunately, some days some cats got lucky.

Michelle gathered her purse and told the sisters she had an appointment to give two cats a home.

“Yeah!” Lacey raised a hand in the air, celebrating. “Have a happy adoption.”

“See, that's part of the fun of working with you,” Sterling said, smiling. “I get to learn about good people doing good things. Go, thank the adopters for me.”

Despite all the terrible circumstances hovering around her, Michelle ran down the stairs to the main floor practically gleeful. She looked at her cell phone for the hundredth time and decided on a quick stop to pick up a breakfast sandwich at the diner down the street. If she hurried, she'd have time to grab it and eat on the way to Evelyn's.

The diner was simple and the food was straightforward. That's what made it popular. It always gave her a good feeling to walk through the door and sink into the ambiance. It felt all homey and basic goodness. She smiled to herself as she strolled briskly down the sidewalk, amused by her ability to pick up sensations that enriched her experience, even at a simple, old-fashioned diner.

She pulled open the door and walked straight to the line at the counter to place her order. Instantly, heaviness and bleakness slammed into her. Surprised, her nerves flustered as she ordered. Her happiness turned slimy and gooey.

Her order was passed to her and she paid, deeply troubled. Michelle walked slowly toward the door, scanning the room. The bag with her sandwich inside nearly slipped from her fingers as she saw Casey at a table, surrounded by six or eight people. One of them was William Carter. He slapped Casey on the back and let out a gravelly laugh.

She froze, her steps stuck in molasses. Casey sat between William Carter and Darrel Dobosky. His was a face that had plagued her for years after the rape, but she hadn't seen him in person or as a phantom in months. His facial features were caught in time in her mind—a surly looking young college senior with brown hair and dimples—but in person she saw he'd gained weight and he didn't wear his twenty-seven years well. At least that's what he looked like to her. Slimy, sweaty, and fat. His just desserts for spewing what her Jewish friend would term a mishegoss of malicious deeds into the lives of good people. Her.

What, why? Casey sitting with that bunch didn't compute. He looked comfortable, happy, joking it up with them. Confusion fogged her brain as she stood staring. Self-respect and defensiveness bloomed all at once, spurting up to clear her head. In that moment he locked gazes with her, frowning. Then he turned back to the conversation at the table.

Her feet moved fast now, as she couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Outside, she measured her steps to the parking garage, repressing the impulse to run, and slipped behind the wheel of her Jeep.

It hurt. It hurt so much. Her gut twisted painfully. She couldn't breathe. “Oh my God!” she cried, more as prayer than exclamation. What had she done to deserve this betrayal, this pain?

She'd done everything right all her life. Followed a path she believed to be truthful and grounded and kind. Why had she been singled out that night, that dreadful might that Darrel tore her heart and soul wide open and left her with darkness and fear?

That night had nearly killed her. She should have seen it coming or run faster or screamed louder, maybe dressed differently.

She'd lain there on the ground, crumpling inwardly. Alone. And only darkness inside her. And now, weighing if Casey was a part of that darkness, that same crumpling stifled her breath and stabbed at her heart. Tears throbbed beneath her eyelids. It hurt so much.

But things were different now, she reminded herself. She wasn't weak and unskilled. She could take care of herself and navigate difficult emotions. And she had genuine friends to turn to when she needed help. She'd done nothing wrong. In fact, she'd been amazing. She retained her love for life and for living a good path. She didn't cower from taking action when circumstances called for it. She was fucking brave. She was sensitive and she cried and got angry, but that wasn't weakness, it was being real. The good may die young, but another way to frame that was the good die of an old life of fear and darkness and inhibitions.

Her muscles took to her thoughts, relaxing and feeling confident. The crumpling expanded out to become resiliency and insight.

Michelle swiped at her eyes and turned the key in the ignition. Still emotionally shaky, she felt gratitude. She'd survived that night and every night since. She was out of darkness. Now she had a dual adoption to take care of.

• • •

“Welcome aboard. I'll see you at the research facility as soon as you can get there.” William Carter reached out a hand to Casey.

Casey took his hand and accepted his limp shake. “Thank you. I'll be there soon.”

The man walked with his other people into William Carter Enterprises and Casey drove away, stunned. He had done his homework and felt confident that he could waggle himself into a job with Carter, but he wasn't sure who got the best end of the morning.

The sneaky bastard never missed an opportunity to express his authority. Carter had set Casey up. He couldn't have known for sure that Michelle would be at that restaurant, but it was not a wild chance, either. He'd probably had one of his goons keeping an eye on her and learned she regularly got coffee there for all three of them—herself, Sterling, and Lacey.

Carter had played him and intentionally set out to hurt Michelle.

The thought of it knotted his stomach and he indulged in a low, rumbling growl.

He could still see the shock and pain in Michelle's beautiful face. He couldn't prevent it. There was nothing he could do to save her from that moment, and it killed him inside.

Even now, he couldn't make it better. He couldn't chance discovery by calling her or going to her at her home or her office, anywhere. Everything inside him leaned toward her, pulling him to her side to comfort her and declare his love and devotion.

It would have to wait. He'd asked her to trust him and all he could do was hope she would, somehow. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, imagining the intense pain she'd suffered on seeing her rapist at the same table as him. Carter was diabolical. And tonight would be the beginning of his undoing.

As he drove by Michelle's house on his way to the research facility, he couldn't stop himself from turning down the lane and driving to the field beside her house. He knew he was taking a risk but he took it, nonetheless.

Booker's car was parked in the grove of trees, so Casey pulled up beside it and got out. He whistled short bursts of sound, and Booker came trotting up to his own vehicle. He shimmered into his human form and slipped on his pants, then walked up next to Casey.

“You found me.” Booker's laid-back demeanor belied an intense drive to protect and heal. A physician, he had healing powers, which came in handy in his profession.

“I whistled. You found me.” Casey rapped him on his back and felt the easy camaraderie flow between them. It soothed his aching heart. “Anything going on here?”

“Asia monitored the building down the street last night and said it seemed like they unloaded a special delivery. It was a caged animal. She got a scent. No doubt it was a lynx, an unfamiliar individual but definitely a lynx.”

His heart clenched. “She saw it?”

“Yeah. Probably drugged, though.”

Before Casey had a chance to react to this devastating news, Booker continued.

“Did you hear about what happened here yesterday?”

He slanted his head at Booker and pinned his gaze. “Happened here? What happened here?”

He listened to Booker's retelling of the intrusion and the darting, all the while tensing his muscles, tighter and tighter. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to tune out the crashing in his ears.
I should have been with her. Oh my God, she could have …
Thoughts of various scenarios stabbed at his brain.

Booker put a hand to his shoulder. “Casey, you can't be everywhere or be prepared for every possible thing. This Carter has an army of goons working for him. Nothing gets by and nothing is beneath him. It's not your fault.”

“The question is, what do I do now?”

“No,” Booker corrected. “The question is what do
we
do now?”

“I go to work. I'm working for Carter undercover. I'm heading to the research facility now. You think you can get in, be stealthy?”

“You're going inside? Does anyone know about this? It's dangerous, Casey.”

“Jackson knows. But you're the only one in the colony. Lara is my contact. I don't want it to get around that I'm inside. But we need to end this mess. I could use your help if you can get in undetected.”

Booker's topaz eyes glistened, thoughts almost visibly churning behind them. He slanted a grin at Casey. “You got it. I'll figure it out.”

“Maybe around the receiving docks area. You know where they are?”

Booker shoved a fist into Casey's shoulder. “Go. You'll be late for work.”

Casey soon walked up to the security guard shack and knocked. The man in uniform spoke through the intercom, confirming Casey's employment status, then pushed under the window a lanyard with a security badge attached, buzzed the front door, and motioned Casey toward inside. “You have to go first to personnel. You'll be expected.” With a stern expression, the guard turned away.

Personnel gave him his orientation quickly. The young woman in HR probably spoke too freely, but that was okay with Casey. He learned he was getting the short and fast version of orientation because William Carter wanted him in the lab ASAP.

The brunette with the coquettish green eyes seemed innocent, too sweet to be involved with the destruction that was William Carter. It was a new thought. He'd lumped all Carter Enterprises associates with the man. Could many of them simply be working at a company that paid reasonably well and offered good benefits? It was a significant consideration, but right now he couldn't let any extraneous thoughts interfere with his mission.

Ms. Green Eyes had instructed him to follow the red line to get to the lab. Around corners and down to the basement level. When he reached the lab door, again he had to check in with a guard.

He stepped into the lab, his pulse pounding. This lab looked very similar to the ones he'd broken into the other day, except there were people working and much activity going on.

A man in a blue lab coat walked up to him and reached out his hand. “You must be Casey Mitchell. I'm Walker Anderson. I know you're not going to work here in our labs, you'll be at corporate headquarters, but Mr. Carter wanted me to show you around.”

The tour began and ended in labs. Each lab held lines of caged cats. Casey had to steel his emotions, as he heard every sound, every cry, every hiss, and whimper. It all added up to fury inside him.

“There's just one more place to show you and then your dull morning is over,” Walker said. He showed the two guards at the door his security badge and nodded at Casey to do the same.

The guard opened the door and Casey's nostrils filled with the scent of an animal, not a cat. Another lynx. A were-lynx.

Walker let him into an adjoining room. “This is our latest subject. He's been in the study for about two months. He was shipped here from Alaska. He's a special case and you won't be involved with him.”

“Walker, I'm not going to be directly involved with any subjects, but I do need to know all the details of this study. Are you going to be able to give me the details or do I need to talk to your boss?”

Walker clasped his arms across his chest and glared. “I can give you any details you're authorized to get.”

“Well, then I'll just give the main boss a call.” His gaze swept the room. “Do you get good reception down here?”

“I do. But that won't be necessary. Let's go into my office.” He led Casey to his office, and motioned toward a chair at a small round table. “As I'm sure Mr. Carter has shared with you, the research we're doing here is a bit unorthodox. How much experience do you have with animal testing?”

Casey laid his forearms across the table and leaned close, close enough for Walker to be able to catch a glimpse of his wild nature in his eyes. “I'll ask the questions.”

Walker swallowed hard and looked down. “What do you want to know?”

“Primarily the answer to one question. What is the goal of this animal research?”

“We're doing different studies.”

Casey glowered and let a very low growl rumble in his throat, just enough to get Walker's attention. “Okay, let's try it this way. Are the drugs you're testing on domestic cats the same as you're testing on the lynx?”

“You could say that. The tests on the cats have resolved some issues—”

“Narrowing down specific drug type and dosage? Any losses?”

“Yes. That happens, as you must know. Some subjects couldn't tolerate the drug at all after we raised the dosage twice.”

“I know you've been having problems with the data from the electronic diary associated with the insulin pump.” Casey tapped his fingers on the table. “Got those smoothed out?”

“We think so.”

Casey nodded his head, reading Walker's body language. “Did anyone report those issues to the IRB?”