Stars & Stripes (40 page)

“I don’t know. Tame enough that he’d rather hug me than eat me right now, but I don’t fucking speak tiger.”

“Should we give him food so he won’t eat anybody?”

“Zane. Why are you asking me like I know what to do? Sure, go grab a brisket off the grill and we’ll see how he likes it.”

“Briskets aren’t cooked on a grill.”

“I’m standing next to a tiger, Zane!”

“I’ll go call the sanctuary.”

“Thank you.”

Zane took a careful step back, giving Barnum one last wary look before turning and calmly walking to the corner of the barn. He couldn’t run no matter how much he wanted to. He remembered what Tish had said about playing tag with a tiger.

He was halfway to the house when his father hurried up to him. “Have you seen Sadie?” Harrison demanded.

“What?”

“We called animal control to get their worthless asses out here and got people leaving for safety, but we can’t find Sadie!”

Zane went cold. He turned to look back at the barn.

If the tiger didn’t have the little girl, then who did?

Ty fought the urge to fidget. It wasn’t hard, what with Barnum leaning against his leg and demanding contact. He stroked Barnum’s cheek, one of the places Tish had told him was safe when handling the tigers. His heart was still racing. Tame circus tiger or not, he was still a fucking tiger and they were not in his enclosure anymore.

The seconds ticked by, and Ty imagined he could feel time expanding as he waited. What the fuck was taking Zane so long?

He looked down at Barnum, and the tiger peered up at him, tongue lolling, his golden eyes full of intelligence and trust. A chill ran down Ty’s body and he fought the resulting shiver.

“What’s the matter, big man?” Ty asked, maintaining a soothing tone. Barnum made a few chuffing noises, responding to his voice. Ty swallowed against the knot of nerves in his throat and began to sing. The first song that popped into his mind was one he used to sing during his Recon days: “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” It was slow and soothing and easy to remember the words to when trying not to panic.

Barnum hefted his body to stand and sniffed the air again. He took a few steps away, and Ty forgot about the song. Then Barnum prowled to the side, beginning to pace.

“Oh please don’t eat me,” Ty whispered.

Barnum rumbled in response, sniffing the air again. He glanced back at Ty in passing, then stalked off toward the darkness, heading away from the barn.

“Barnum,” Ty whispered. He clucked his tongue and made a few hissing noises, but who the hell was he kidding? If the tiger wanted to go, it was going to go. “Come on, buddy, don’t leave me. I’ll sing a different one,” he said as he followed after the big cat. “‘Eye of the Tiger’?”

But Barnum paid him no mind, slinking off into the night so quickly and quietly that Ty lost him in a matter of yards.

Ty peered into the darkness, his heart pounding hard. “Everyone’s a critic,” he grumbled as he backed away from the last spot he’d seen Barnum. It was just too dangerous to track the tiger in the dark, no matter how tame or friendly Barnum seemed to be. Ty needed to get to safety, and then warn the rest of the partygoers.

He continued to back away, turning once he no longer felt eyes tracking him. He made his way to the truck and climbed in, breathing a sigh of relief when he got the door closed behind him.

He found the keys under the brake pedal, where Zane often left them, and got the truck started. He drove right through the yard, not especially surprised to find that the party had dispersed. Harrison had probably taken that precaution and moved the guests inside or sent them home. The bonfire still blazed, sending ashes into the night sky. Torches were lit around the yard, marking the areas intended for the party and keeping bugs at bay. But there was no other sign of life.

Ty pushed down the creepy feeling and headed for the house, parking the truck right at the bottom of the steps. He had been chewed on by enough felines in his lifetime, thank you.

He hopped out of the truck and darted up the steps, then slung open the screen door and didn’t relax until it had clicked behind him.

A gun cocked near his ear, and the distinct barrel of a .45 pressed to his temple.

Ty froze.

“Grady?”

Ty risked a sideways look past the barrel of the gun and found Cody standing there.

Cody lowered the gun and smiled. “Sorry.”

Ty shook his head, growling but unable to produce a curse word appropriate for the moment. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sadie’s gone missing.”

“What?” Ty asked, his heart sinking.

Cody nodded grimly. Ty noticed that he hadn’t put his gun away. “They think the tiger nabbed her.”

Ty looked from Cody to the gun. “So you thought I was a tiger?”

Cody shook his head. “Stuart said we got trouble in our own house. Can’t be too careful.”

“Where are the others?”

“I don’t know. Party broke up, everyone got scattered looking for Little Bit.”

Ty glanced around the quiet house, then back at Cody. “Come with me. I need you to drive me out to that pump house.”

Cody nodded and headed out onto the porch. Ty followed, glancing around the yard. The night was silent. No insects sang, no horses whinnied from the barns. None of the animals made a peep.

“Why are we headed back out there?” Cody asked.

“Whatever’s under that place, that’s what this is about. It’s not just stolen tigers. And I think whoever has Sadie might be headed there.”

Ty hopped down the steps. The crack of a gunshot tore through the night, and the impact thumped into Ty, stealing his breath and knocking him flat.

Somewhere in the darkness, Barnum the Bengal tiger roared.

“I don’t get how she can just disappear!” Harrison sounded near panicked as they rounded the dark corner of the house and headed for the front yard again.

“She didn’t disappear, Dad, Mark’s got her! He’s running with her!”

Harrison grabbed Zane’s arm and whirled him around almost viciously. “You best be damn sure before you say that out loud again.”

“Yes, sir,” Zane said through gritted teeth. “I have to get back to Ty and let him know what’s going on before he and that damn tiger get twitchy.”

Harrison nodded.

Zane turned the corner of the house in time to see Ty and Cody hurrying down the front steps. “Ty!” he called out, but his shout was drowned out by the crack of the gunshot. Ty and Cody both fell to the ground, either hit or taking cover. Zane shouted again, drawing his weapon.

Harrison grabbed him and yanked him back just as a shot thumped into the house.

“No!” Zane fought against his dad’s hands.

Harrison slammed him against the siding. “You ain’t no good to him dead, Z! Get inside.”

Zane opened his mouth to respond, but the sudden shatter of glass and a crash from behind the house cut him off. They hit the ground, and a shadow hustled through the trees, the moonlight glinting off a shotgun. The shooters were aiming at the house and at
them.
Bullets glanced off the walls, far too close for comfort.

Harrison clamped down on the back of Zane’s neck and wrenched him to his feet. “Get in the house!”

They scrambled for the French doors of Beverly’s office.

Zane took the steps three at a time as bullets tore up the façade, splintering the wood and sending flowers spilling from broken pots. He ran for the den and its gun cabinets, trying not to think about the odds outside or the image of Ty falling to the ground that kept replaying in his head. He yanked a case open and grabbed a shotgun and a rifle. They were loaded and ready to go; guns in the Garrett household were meant to be used, not admired for their shiny parts.

“What in the blazing hinges of hell is going on out there!” Harrison took one of the weapons from Zane’s hand.

“I have no idea!” Zane loaded up a shotgun and grabbed a handful of extra rounds. “See if you can find the family, get everyone upstairs.”

Harrison grabbed him as he was turning away. “Where are you going?”

“Ty’s out there,” Zane said. He yanked away and ran for the front door.

When he got to the door he hit the marble, staying low as he peered out. Ty was nowhere to be seen. Only a blood smear on the front steps was left of him.

“Ty!” Zane called out. Above the commotion he heard his name called in response. He strained his ears, but instead of Ty, he heard the galloping of horses. In the flickering firelight, he caught silhouettes of horses racing into the night; the entire stock of the C and G had fled from a barn as flames licked at its roof.

Zane’s mind flooded with horror at the sudden outburst of violence. Whoever had been working with Stuart didn’t trust him not to give them away. They were making a break for it tonight.

Gunfire from the back of the house sounded like it was coming from outside and within. His father was firing back.

Zane picked up his rifle and crawled out the door, intent on finding Ty.
“Where the fuck are you?” Zane muttered. He hurried down the steps, staying low. Blood stained the steps, but not as much as he’d feared. Ty may have been able to get up under his own power and find cover.

Zane crouched low and skirted the truck parked in front of the steps, heading for the barn. “Grady!”

“Garrett!”

Zane skidded to a halt and turned. He finally saw Ty, lying under the truck on his back. Zane dove for it, peering underneath with a relieved laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Clipped me. I’m bleeding.”

“Come on, let’s get inside.”

“I can’t.”

“Ty, come on, quit screwing around,” Zane said as he reached under the truck to grip Ty’s arm. He pulled, but Ty didn’t budge.

Ty met his eyes, the hazel looking a sickly gray in the firelight. “My cast is stuck on the undercarriage.”

“That’s not funny, Ty.”

“You’re right, Zane, it’s not! Give me your knife.”

“I don’t have it, it’s in my carry-on bag. Where’s yours?”

“It’s in an evidence bag!”

“Goddammit, Ty!” Zane tried tugging at him again, but Ty cried out and shoved at his hand.

“Go get me a knife!”

Zane handed him the shotgun and ran for the house. There were more gunshots, and the tiger was somewhere, roaring. He didn’t have time to be confused, he was just reacting and hoping they could sort out the who and the why later. He ran for the kitchen, but almost toppled over his father as he pushed through the door.

“Dad!”

“Zane!”

Zane was shocked to see all the people in the kitchen—at least twenty, some family, some guests of the party. Annie and Beverly huddled together in the banquette, pale and drawn. Harrison held a shotgun, as did at least five other employees of the ranch. Mark was there, a rifle in his hands and blood at his hairline.

“What are you doing?” Zane asked his dad. “I told you to get upstairs!”

“If we head up, we’ll be trapped,” Mark said, shouting over the noise.

“Where’s Sadie?” Annie screamed.

Zane shook his head, his eyes drawn back to Mark. If Mark wasn’t behind it, then who the hell was? His stomach flipped. A blast sounded from the front of the house.

“Ty.” Zane grabbed his dad’s arm. “Do you have a knife?”

Harrison dug in his pocket and handed Zane his pocketknife. He followed Zane to the front door, where they both stopped and watched in horror as flames licked at the bed of the truck parked in the driveway. Glass broke somewhere in the house. Then another window smashed.