Rogue Page 89

Yet I found that a small consolation, all things considered.

After that, the day hit a bit of a lull. Marc and Parker had seen no sign of the rogue tabby, and we still had no idea where to find Luiz and Andrew. My father sent Owen, Jace, and Vic out for a run in the woods, ostensibly to burn off some nervous energy and clear their heads for the coming confrontation—whenever that turned out to be. But I think he was actually trying to get them out of his fur for an hour of peace and quiet.

I stayed behind, out of sheer exhaustion. Whether it was the lack of sleep, or the emotionally draining phone cal to Andrew, by the time the guys filed out of the office, I could barely hold my head up. So I stretched out on the leather couch for a short nap, just like I’d done as a kid, lulled to sleep by the scratching of a pencil on paper as my father sketched to set his mind at ease.

Sometime later—about an hour and a half, according to the wal clock—the guys woke me up when they filed back into the office like a herd of elephants on parade. Jace picked up my feet and sat beneath them, and Vic and Owen settled onto the love seat across from us. I was stil rubbing sleep from my eyes when the office phone rang out, startling in the temporary calm. My father answered it, and the moment the cal er spoke, I sat straight up, instantly wide-awake. It was Marc.

“No sign of the tabby yet,” he said after a brief greeting.

“But we’ve got Dan Painter here, and he wants to talk to you. He doesn’t seem to know anything about the strays we’re looking for—”

Andrew and Luiz, obviously “—but he says he knows the tabby personally. And he’ll only speak to the man in charge.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The phone still pressed to his ear, my father arched his brows in surprise and dropped his pencil on his desk. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah!” Painter’s voice was soft from distance to the phone and high pitched from stress, but still easily recognizable.

“Fucker nearly broke my jaw, but I told ’em I’m only talking to the main man.”

“That would be the Alpha,” Parker said from somewhere over the line. “And there’s no cussing in front of the Alpha.”

Yeah, I was still working on that one myself.

“Sorry,” Painter mumbled, just as Marc said, “Should I put him on the phone?”

My father closed his eyes, considering the request. Then he opened them and said, “Please.” The phone clattered as it changed hands, and then he was speaking to the informant himself. “Mr. Painter? I understand you have some information for me.”

“Yeah, but I got a request first. I want in.”

My father frowned. “In?”

“Yeah, in. In the pack, or whatever you call it. The group. The in-crowd.”

I smiled, as images from high school popped up unbidden, and my father seemed on the verge of a chuckle himself. “Mr. Painter, we cal it the Pride. And Pride cats don’t act in anticipation of a reward. They act out of honor. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Springs creaked over the phone, as Painter shifted in whatever seat he occupied. “You want me to spil my guts for free.”

“I want to be sure that your character is up to the standard I require of my Pride cats, and by volunteering your information, you’d go a long way toward showing me that.”

Damn, he’s good. I exchanged a knowing grin with Jace.

“Yeah, I see what you’re saying,” Painter said. “I tell you what I know, and you’ll let me play your reindeer games.”

“You have my word that if you help us in this matter, I will give you an opportunity to prove you belong with us. How does that sound?”

There was silence over the line for several seconds, as Painter thought the offer over. Then he sighed. “Fine. You want to know about the woman, right? You call them tabbies?”

“Yes. How do you know her?” My father picked up his pencil and began scribbling as Painter spoke.

“I met her about a week ago, at this club in Mississippi. First girl-cat I ever saw, and I knew what she was right away, even with her walkin’

around on two feet.” Painter sounded so proud of himself that I had to smile.

My father nodded, still writing. “You’ve been following her?”

“Shi—er, shoot, no. I’ve been travelin’ with her. Keepin’ her company.

I didn’t know she was killin’ people, though. I swear I didn’t know that until the other day, the first time I called you.”

“How did you find out?”

“I followed her. We drive during the day, then check into a hotel. She goes out every night. Alone. One night I followed her. I think she knew I was there, but she let me tail her anyway. She went to another strip club, and about half an hour later she came out with this dude. Another cat.

She took him out back, and the next thing I know, she’s standing over his body. I nearly pissed my pants, ya know? But she just pulled him over to his car and heaved him into the trunk. Then she drove him to the middle of nowhere and dumped him in a field. I told you guys about that one.

Remember? Then I ran into this fu—I mean, this big guy here, and another chick, and she knocked me the fu— Knocked me out cold. First time I ever been hit by a girl.”

Jace elbowed me, and I frowned, still embarrassed that I’d silenced our biggest lead before he could tell us what was going on.

“So you’ve been traveling with this tabby…” my father continued.

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