Rare Find (25 page)

"Easy, Tango."

Tango's eyes glittered.
Shit.

"Ronin, back up slightly."

She sensed the unwillingness in him. What a time for Ronin to decide to face his fear.

"Tango?"

And felt his neck ripple and cord as he opened his mouth, a roar ripping from deep below.

After a long nerve-wracking moment, Ronin stepped back. But only a bit.

Still in the way of male animal, it might be enough. She sent warm loving energy to Tango. If she had to, she could drop him in an instant. Energy worked both ways, to heal and to hurt. Or in Tango's case, to discipline. When he was young, she'd been forced to overwhelm him to the point he couldn't move a time or two until he understood. She hadn't had to do it since.

Then everyone was off kilter and over protective right now. Between her father's energy and Ronin's energy, her own scattered space...everyone was acting out. "Tango..." She sent a strong mental warning to him. He howled. She scolded him. "Leave him alone; he's a friend."

He whined. Then he cocked his head and looked down at her like a petulant child denied a toy.

He dropped down and padded back to his pen to sulk. "Thanks, Tango."

Her father stood and watched as Tango headed through the flip panel to the outdoors. "That animal is dangerous," her father snapped. "He's going to kill someone one day."

"And yet you let him into the house to sit with you." She so didn't need this right now. Her emotions were too raw.

"He knows me." Her father turned to glare at Ronin. "He obviously doesn't know or like you. Since when do you try to challenge a tiger? If it wasn't for her, you'd have had your hands full."

Tabitha closed her eyes as her father started showing his testosterone.

Abruptly she turned and headed to the kitchen, Tripod at her heels.

She put on a pot of coffee, wondering if she was going to have to feed the men too. If so, too damn bad. She stared into her empty fridge, wondering if fuzzy blue cheese, eggs and wilted peppers would work as an omelette. Even the concept sounded bad. She slammed the door, stole a cup of coffee from the pot and turned to lean back against the counter. Closing her eyes, she let the steam bathe her tired eyes.

"Bedtime?" Ronin asked gently.

She laughed, a broken sound that came off harsh and cold. It wasn't his fault. And it wasn't fair to take it out on him. She pulled on her flagging energy and said, "It's too early, as much as I'd like to. I have to go to the office and touch base. Your brother might be coming by to check the cameras. And I need to assess the cut fence and go over the security feed."

"Isn't that why you have hired help?"

"Oh, that's funny." She took a sip of her coffee, loving the heat as it slipped down her throat. "New complex security system and new staff don't work well without training. And I haven't had time to complete that aspect. Soon." Very soon, she added to herself.

Ronin poured a cup of coffee for himself. "Do we offer your father a cup?"

"He doesn't drink coffee." And she didn't say anything more.

He studied her face. "Food? You haven't eaten."

She took another sip of coffee. "There isn't much of anything here to eat." And damn if that didn't bring tears to her eyes.

He put his cup down and then removed hers from her hands and placed it on the counter beside her. He tugged her into his arms and just held her.

She nestled in close, just wanting to hide away until she felt better. Until she was strong enough to handle the shit flying through her world. After a moment, she cleared her throat and looked up at him.

"Thanks."

He nodded and stepped back. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out several large pieces of paper folded many times over. "This probably isn't a good time to ask, but I'm not sure waiting is any better. I need to know… Do you recognize any of these?"

She took the first one from him and frowned at the image of a bloated dead man. "No."

He handed her another one. This time it was a series of derelict buildings backing up to a creek.

Again she shook her head and handed it back. "No. Not at all."

"And this is the third picture."

"That's Fez!" she said, "after he'd been attacked."

"Good. How about this last one?"

Another man lying down on the ground as if asleep.

She frowned and turned the paper slightly. "No, I don't think so."

"Damn." Ronin took the paper back and held it up to see it better.

"That's Bruce Tappet." Her father's voice spoke from behind her. "What the hell does that lowlife black market dealer have to do with my daughter?"

Bruce Tappet. Interesting. That was the name registered to the phone number he'd been given.

***

Ronin checked his watch as he walked into the station. He’d told Tabitha she had two hours before he'd return to make sure she knocked it off for the day. He'd used up twenty minutes just getting to work. Plus he needed to shop if he hoped to get dinner tonight.

"About time you got here. Figured you'd gone on vacation or something." The laughing comment came from the left side of the hallway as soon as Ronin walked into the office.

He smiled good-naturedly at Carmichael. "Not likely." At his desk, he logged on to his computer and checked his emails. Nothing useful. He set up a search on the name of Fez and Bruce Tappet. There were no hits on Fez, but Tappet had a long record. Small stuff though. There was an address on record so Ronin wrote it down then he sent an email to the coroner, attaching the picture. A moment later he picked up the phone to call her personally. "Dr. Candace?"

"Well, well. So how's my favorite detective?"

"Looking to see if you can recognize a couple of faces. I just sent the sketches by email." He paused as he heard her click on the keyboard. "I'm thinking one might be your floater."

"Sketches? I presume your artist knew them personally then?"

Ronin laughed, but it was without humor. "I f you knew Stefan, you wouldn't ask that."

"Stefan Kronos?" She clicked on several keys. "In that case, I'll take a look. That man is something else."

Not knowing if she was talking about Stefan's psychic skills, art skills or his good looks, he stayed quiet.

"Wow. Damn, he's good."

"Do you recognize any of them?"

"The last one is lying on my table right now."

"That man has been tentatively ID'd as Bruce Tappet." Ronin's heart sank. He'd been hoping the guy wasn't dead. Hard to get answers from a corpse.

"Nothing tentative about it. His fingerprints are a match. According to Detective Carmichael Woodrow he's got a long rap sheet."

"When did you get him and do you have a cause of death?"

"Not yet." She gave a rasping cough. "I'll send you both copies of my report when I'm done."

As he put down the phone, Ronin had to wonder what his old friend's interest in Tappet was. He decided to find out. Carmichael's desk was empty. After giving the office a quick look over, Ronin opened his phone and called him. "Where are you?"

"Just leaving the parking lot. Why? What's up?"

"Bruce Tappet."

"Yeah, he met his maker a few days ago." Carmichael snorted. "His lifestyle finally caught up with him."

"Murdered?"

"Most likely. Waiting on the ME report. Why the interest?"

"He links to a smuggling deal I'm working on."

"Really." Carmichael snorted. "Well, he was the man for it. That man had his hands in damn near everything."

"So I've heard. What do you know about his dealings with rare animals?"

"Not much. Was he into that crap too? Then again, it's hardly a surprise." Carmichael added. "Anything anyone wanted, he could usually get. At least that's the word."

That was no help. "Okay. Good to know. Anyone handling his case? I wanted to check out his address, hoping for a lead." Ronin opened his notebook and double checked the address he had listed.

"I can take another look at the evidence." Carmichael coughed. "Let me know what you find. It's a mess. I figure some junkie tossed it first. The techs didn't find anything obvious so far. Then not all the tests are back yet."

"Will do." Ronin pulled the car keys from his pocket and headed to the parking lot. Finding the address where Tappet had lived was no problem. Ten minutes later, he was there.

Leaving his truck somewhere safe was the issue. The area was run down and poor. Old Bruce hadn't been doing all that well if this was his place. He double checked the number on the apartment building and walked to the ground-level corner apartment. The crime scene techs had been there and gone, so it should be empty. But in this neighborhood, there was no way to know for sure. He rapped on the door several times. Hard. There was no answer. He knocked again. When there was still no answer, he reached for the knob and gave it a twist. The door opened. Cautiously, he kicked it open with his foot and unbuckled his gun, calling out, "Hello. Anyone home?"

No answer. He entered slowly to find that he wasn't the first person to check out the apartment. Tossed was right. The single couch had been dumped on its back and the upholstery had been slashed. The cushions had received the same treatment. Newspapers and takeout-food containers were strewn across the floor. The coffee table and small kitchen table and chairs were tossed randomly across the floor. The single bedroom apartment was small and dirty, the smell so rank the odor leached into the walls. It had been in this condition for a while.

Ronin walked into the bedroom and it was in a similar state. Someone had gone through everything here very carefully. Had they been looking for something or were they just pissed that Bruce didn't have what they wanted?

Either way, there wasn't much left. There was no desk or laptop, tablet, or cell phone that he could find. He moved the mattress and kicked through much of what lay on the floor. The closet was full of dirty laundry and boxes and bags. But so much had been dumped in a heap. He picked through it, hoping for something useful. If Bruce had been smuggling tigers, there'd have been records somewhere.

But Ronin was too late.

He gave the room as close a go over as he could but found nothing. He shouldn't be surprised. If it had been important, the man would have kept it well hidden. Or...Tappet still had it on him when he died.

Ronin grabbed his phone and called Dr. Candace. "Did Bruce Tappet have a notebook on his person when he was brought in?"

"I have no idea. Let me look."

Ronin could hear sounds of her rustling with something in the background. "There was nothing in the clothing and nothing listed on his file."

Damn. "All right. Thanks for looking."

He hung up. With a last glance around, Ronin left the room.

As he closed the door behind him he realized he had just enough time to pick up some groceries and get back to Exotic Landscape on time.

He hadn't even made it to the car when his phone rang. Dr. Candace.

"It was in his boot."

Monday afternoon

T
he animal smells hit her first. Acrid, wet woolliness and yeah, fear swamped her as she walked inside the office of her beloved reserve for the first time in days. She'd taken the long way around to say hi to many of the animals. Now inside, she could hear sounds from the medical rooms in the back. It was surgery day. She should have been in there taking care of business. The will was there but her strength was not. Still, she walked to the door and peered inside. Her new vet, Zane, was treating an injury on a dog.

"There you are." Sue's voice broke her concentration. Tabitha turned and was engulfed in a warm hug. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm glad to be back," Tabitha admitted, "even if it's only on a part-time basis for a day or two."

"You should be in bed." Sue led her to her office and pushed her gently into her seat. "I've been coming into the office to help out, so the workload shouldn't be that bad. Please don't overdo it. I'm going to grab you a cup of coffee." And she raced away.

Tabitha logged into her computer and settled in to get a few hours of paperwork done. She doubted Ronin would be late, so she set aside some work to take home.

First she needed to see the security feed. Bringing it up, she forwarded it to the right day and time. She watched in shock as the male dressed all in black walked to the lynx pen and cut the wires. There was something off about the figure. She didn't do people readings the same as she did animals and that was too bad right now. He carried himself like a young man with a spring in his step and he didn't appear to require much effort on his part to nip the wires. That interested her as that was heavy gauge steel. It shouldn't have been that easy. She wanted to groan at the ease with which he destroyed the barrier.