Wild Fire
Page 41

They walked in and out among the trees. She could hear her heart pounding. She was going to tell him—and betray her father even more. But she owed him that much.
“I told your mother about the roller coaster—and the men my father always met at the parks.” She could hear the tremble in her voice, but she couldn’t quite control it and knew Conner could hear it too, especially with the sensitive ears of the leopard.
Beneath her hand, the roped muscles tensed, but he didn’t break stride. He kept walking with her and that gave her the courage to make the confession. “I never paid attention to the men he often met there, because I didn’t like them. There was something off about their smell.” Her fingers curled deeper in his fur. “I could smell things miles away. It drove me crazy. These men would come up to him when we would get a snow cone. Dad always took me to this one stand, and the same two men would meet him and hand him a package. He would give them an envelope. I was a child, Conner, and didn’t realize, or even question, that he was getting paid for something, or that the reason those men smelled ‘off’ was because they were doing something wrong.”
She hadn’t realized how easy it would be—or what a relief it was to be able to tell him. In his leopard form, she didn’t have to face his burning eyes and know he was judging her. As a child, she hadn’t had an inkling of what her father was into, but as a grown woman, she should have been able to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. She should have known: All the signs were there, she just hadn’t opened her eyes.
“He did it for me,” she said softly, hating the truth. “He wanted the money for me.” Her throat burned. Her father was a doctor, dedicated to saving lives. He’d taken an oath to save others, yet he’d sold information to a group of terrorists—information that led to the kidnapping and deaths of many people over the years.
The leopard pushed his head close to her, nuzzling her thigh as if to comfort her. She was grateful Conner didn’t shift to his human form. She needed to get this said, and it was so much easier talking to the leopard there in the darkness. She took another breath and lifted her face to the cleansing rain. The drops were slowing, so it was more thick mist than driving rain, but it felt good on her burning face.
“I know this will be difficult for you to believe, but my father was a good man. I don’t know what happened, why he thought we’d need that kind of blood money. He made good money as a doctor. After he died, I inherited everything. I went over his books carefully.”
She tripped on a small branch hidden deep in the layers of leaves and decaying vegetation, stumbling a little. The cat moved fluidly in front of her, preventing her from falling onto the ground. She had to grab handfuls of fur to keep herself upright, her fingers curling into the pelt. For a moment she buried her face in the neck, rubbing her wet face into the thick fur. It was amazing to feel so comfortable with the animal when the man made her crazy inside. She gave a small self-deprecating laugh. “Maybe you should just stay a leopard.”
She felt the large cat stiffen, his muscles coiling tight as his head came up alertly. He opened his mouth in a silent snarl, showing teeth, his eyes blazing. She looked in the direction he was looking, back toward the cabin. She couldn’t see or hear anything at all, but she trusted his animal senses and stepped back behind him. They waited in silence and then Elijah stepped out of the trees.
“Rio sent me,” he said hastily. “He was worried your woman might run into trouble.” He stopped abruptly the moment he saw the crouching leopard, but he appeared relaxed.
Isabeau tried to place him from her past. He was good looking. Intriguing even. The same dangerous aura that surrounded Conner enveloped him as well, and he looked vaguely familiar. A man like Elijah was memorable, yet she didn’t recall anyone else who had stormed the compound where her father had gone to warn his friends. For all she knew, this man could be the one who shot her father.
“I’m fine. I found him without any trouble,” she replied.
“I see that.” Elijah studied her face. “I didn’t shoot him—your father, I mean. I didn’t shoot him.”
She swallowed hard, but didn’t respond to the bait.
“That’s what you were wondering. I would have done it without hesitation,” he admitted honestly, “to save Conner’s life, but I wasn’t first inside. I’m wondering what you were doing there.”
She went rigid. No one had thought to ask her that question. Not one person. Not even Conner before she’d raked his face. She’d been so shocked, so traumatized, but even then, she’d waited for the question, wondering how she would answer it. Now, here in the jungle with the mist cloaking her and a leopard pressing close to her legs, she knew.
“I was worried about the way my father had been behaving. It wasn’t rational. I knew he was upset, but he’d become secretive and . . .” She trailed off, realizing what it had been that had sent her following him. She smelled his lies. The memory swept over her fast, her stomach reacting, churning with bile, just as it had when she’d followed her father down the streets of the city and then the trails by the river, deeper and deeper into the Borneo rain forest. Her heart had sunk in her chest, and she’d known he wasn’t going on a medical call.
He’d gone through guarded gates and she had parked her car in the forest itself and continued on foot. She’d stood for a long time in the trees when he drove behind those large gates, debating what to do. All the little clues from her childhood had begun to fit like pieces of a giant puzzle.