Big Bad Beast
Page 8
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Okay.
Youre not going to ask me what it is?
Should I?
Probably.
Ric grimaced. This involves my father, doesnt it?
Possibly. Im sending you copies of the books for the Van Holtz restaurants in the tri-state area.
I want you to look them over, closely, and tell me what you think. Rics grimace turned to slack-jawed panic. He could feel his mouth dropping open in shock.
Pardon?
You know what Im asking, Ric.
Yes, but
And youre the one I trust to be honest with me.
But it sounds like you already know the truth.
Im guessing. You are the one with the head for numbers. Or so my beautiful wife keeps telling me. Her exact words were, Please dont try to think. Its painful to watch. Send the damn things to Ulrich. And, as always, shes absolutely right. Will that be a problem? Investigating to see if Rics father, Alder Van Holtz, was robbing his own family and Pack of funds for whatever reason he might have? Gee . . . why would that be a problem?
No, sir.
Excellent. Let me know when you have something.
Okay.
The call disconnected, Ric went back to his work, glad that he would be turning over his kitchen to his sous-chef soon because he had guests coming over in a bit. But before he could get lost in the food, his phone went off again.
Dreading that his father had already heard all about it through his spies, Ric went out to the back alley to answer the call.
This is Ric.
Mr. Van Holtz?
Ric almost sighed in relief when he heard a womans voice on the other end. Yes.
This is Detective MacDermot. NYPD.
He knew her. Mace Llewellyns wife. Not exactly the type of woman Ric would expect a lion like Llewellyn to choose for his mate. Not that there was anything wrong with Desiree MacDermot. Far from it. But a Puerto RicanIrish street cop from the Bronx wasnt exactly a blue blood, was she? Something that the Llewellyns usually insisted upon.
Yes, Detective. What can I do for you?
My boss was wondering if you could come in tonight for a meeting. Ric frowned. Im working tonight and have plans, so Im not sure thats going to
We have your team, Mr. Van Holtz.
Ric blew out a breath. Dee-Ann. I understand. Im heading right over.
Thank you. She ended the call and Ric slipped the phone back into his sweats. Already irritated, now Ric was extremely annoyed. He glanced at his watch, making sure he had enough time to deal with whateverdrama Dee-Ann and her team had gotten into and then get back to meet his friends without being forced to cancel the entire evening. He could do it, even though he might be a little late, but theyd wait for him.
Already thinking of what hed have to do in his kitchen before he could cut out, Ric gazed down to the end of the alley that led out to the street. Thats when he saw him. Their eyes met and the kid took off.
Ric ran to the end of the alley, looking up and down the busy street, trying to catch sight of him again. Nope. Nothing.
Damn it. This night was simply not getting any better, was it?
Dee sat in the cage, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin resting on her fists. She sat in the cage and waited while the She-tiger in the cage next to her paced back and forth like she was about to be dragged off to the Bronx Zoo tiger display.
How can you just sit there like that? Malone finally demanded.
What do you expect me to do? Pace around like an idiot?
I expect you to do something.
Dont see the purpose of gettin all upset.
When do you ever?
That was always your problem, Malone. All emotion, no sense. Malone faced her, gripping the bars with her still-bloody knuckles. At least I give a shit. At least I care about those people they found.
Thats real Yankee of ya, Malone. But your big emotions dont really help nothin, do they?
Cold as your precious daddy, I see.
That had Dee up off the bench shed been sitting on, across the cage, her arm through the bars, and her hand wrapping around the back of Malones head. She jerked her forward, slamming her forehead into the titanium metal they used for these cages since they were built specifically for shifters.
Malones fist came through the bars, punching Dee in the eye.
Fangs bared, the two females held on, trying to drag each other through the bars.
Dee-Ann!
Dee stumbled back, the pair releasing each other at the bellow.
Trying to see through her already swelling eye, she blinked in surprise.
Van Holtz . . . er . . . Ric, stood outside the bars, absolutely seething. He was in his black sweats, black Van sneakers, and black T-shirt, but the scent of his busy kitchen still lingered all around him. The predator cops sitting at their desks lifted their heads and tested the air, probably trying to figure out why they were suddenly so hungry.
Get out here, Ric ordered and Dee walked forward. She reached through the bars and fussed with the lock that held her for a bit. It opened easy enough, and she heard Malone gasp in surprise behind her. Poor felines. They just didnt have the same way with locks as wolves and foxes.
Youre not going to ask me what it is?
Should I?
Probably.
Ric grimaced. This involves my father, doesnt it?
Possibly. Im sending you copies of the books for the Van Holtz restaurants in the tri-state area.
I want you to look them over, closely, and tell me what you think. Rics grimace turned to slack-jawed panic. He could feel his mouth dropping open in shock.
Pardon?
You know what Im asking, Ric.
Yes, but
And youre the one I trust to be honest with me.
But it sounds like you already know the truth.
Im guessing. You are the one with the head for numbers. Or so my beautiful wife keeps telling me. Her exact words were, Please dont try to think. Its painful to watch. Send the damn things to Ulrich. And, as always, shes absolutely right. Will that be a problem? Investigating to see if Rics father, Alder Van Holtz, was robbing his own family and Pack of funds for whatever reason he might have? Gee . . . why would that be a problem?
No, sir.
Excellent. Let me know when you have something.
Okay.
The call disconnected, Ric went back to his work, glad that he would be turning over his kitchen to his sous-chef soon because he had guests coming over in a bit. But before he could get lost in the food, his phone went off again.
Dreading that his father had already heard all about it through his spies, Ric went out to the back alley to answer the call.
This is Ric.
Mr. Van Holtz?
Ric almost sighed in relief when he heard a womans voice on the other end. Yes.
This is Detective MacDermot. NYPD.
He knew her. Mace Llewellyns wife. Not exactly the type of woman Ric would expect a lion like Llewellyn to choose for his mate. Not that there was anything wrong with Desiree MacDermot. Far from it. But a Puerto RicanIrish street cop from the Bronx wasnt exactly a blue blood, was she? Something that the Llewellyns usually insisted upon.
Yes, Detective. What can I do for you?
My boss was wondering if you could come in tonight for a meeting. Ric frowned. Im working tonight and have plans, so Im not sure thats going to
We have your team, Mr. Van Holtz.
Ric blew out a breath. Dee-Ann. I understand. Im heading right over.
Thank you. She ended the call and Ric slipped the phone back into his sweats. Already irritated, now Ric was extremely annoyed. He glanced at his watch, making sure he had enough time to deal with whateverdrama Dee-Ann and her team had gotten into and then get back to meet his friends without being forced to cancel the entire evening. He could do it, even though he might be a little late, but theyd wait for him.
Already thinking of what hed have to do in his kitchen before he could cut out, Ric gazed down to the end of the alley that led out to the street. Thats when he saw him. Their eyes met and the kid took off.
Ric ran to the end of the alley, looking up and down the busy street, trying to catch sight of him again. Nope. Nothing.
Damn it. This night was simply not getting any better, was it?
Dee sat in the cage, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin resting on her fists. She sat in the cage and waited while the She-tiger in the cage next to her paced back and forth like she was about to be dragged off to the Bronx Zoo tiger display.
How can you just sit there like that? Malone finally demanded.
What do you expect me to do? Pace around like an idiot?
I expect you to do something.
Dont see the purpose of gettin all upset.
When do you ever?
That was always your problem, Malone. All emotion, no sense. Malone faced her, gripping the bars with her still-bloody knuckles. At least I give a shit. At least I care about those people they found.
Thats real Yankee of ya, Malone. But your big emotions dont really help nothin, do they?
Cold as your precious daddy, I see.
That had Dee up off the bench shed been sitting on, across the cage, her arm through the bars, and her hand wrapping around the back of Malones head. She jerked her forward, slamming her forehead into the titanium metal they used for these cages since they were built specifically for shifters.
Malones fist came through the bars, punching Dee in the eye.
Fangs bared, the two females held on, trying to drag each other through the bars.
Dee-Ann!
Dee stumbled back, the pair releasing each other at the bellow.
Trying to see through her already swelling eye, she blinked in surprise.
Van Holtz . . . er . . . Ric, stood outside the bars, absolutely seething. He was in his black sweats, black Van sneakers, and black T-shirt, but the scent of his busy kitchen still lingered all around him. The predator cops sitting at their desks lifted their heads and tested the air, probably trying to figure out why they were suddenly so hungry.
Get out here, Ric ordered and Dee walked forward. She reached through the bars and fussed with the lock that held her for a bit. It opened easy enough, and she heard Malone gasp in surprise behind her. Poor felines. They just didnt have the same way with locks as wolves and foxes.
