After months of hunting and investigating everything about her, Lassiter knew that she wouldn’t. “Maybe you can change her mind. I’ll let you try, Cambry. She’s been on the run for over three years. It’s not likely she’ll stop.” He went to the window and looked down at the street. “And, as I said, time’s running out.”
“I know.” Cambry sighed. “I might give it a whirl, but you’d have a better chance.” He suddenly grinned. “And you were talking about cons? Who’s better at it or has more experience than you? Besides, you seem to know her inside and out.”
Inside and out, Lassiter thought wryly. Sometimes he thought that was true. After all the people he’d talked to about her, all the apartments and flats where he’d searched and tried to build a picture of the person who was Margaret Douglas. He knew her favorite pieces of music, he knew she liked comedy and adventure movies and shied away from anything sad. He knew she could drive a car but seldom did because she needed a license, and that required documents. He knew that she drew people to her but was wary about taking lovers.
And he knew a few other rather bizarre and interesting things about her that he had not shared with Cambry.
He knew all those things, but he’d never heard her voice and only recently had seen a decent photo of what she actually looked like.
“It won’t work,” he said. “I want it too much and I’ve waited too long. I’m past the point of persuasion where she’s concerned.” He shook his head. “And if she doesn’t agree, then I’ll use her anyway. I’ve gotten this close and I’m not letting her skip away into the sunset again.” He turned and strode toward the door. “She’s mine.”
“Not if we’ve lost her again,” Cambry said.
“I haven’t lost her yet,” Lassiter said over his shoulder. “She was in this apartment only a few hours ago, before her friend Devon sent her flying away in panic. I have a few more places to search before I give up. I believe I found out more about her on Summer Island than she’d want me to know.…”
CHAPTER TWO
San Diego Zoo
1:35 A.M.
Margaret watched the night security guard turn off his flashlight and get back in his vehicle after checking out the cages. He would be going to the habitat area next, she knew. She had at least three hours before he’d come back here on his rounds. She stepped out from the shadow of the enclosure she’d ducked into when she’d seen the security guard approaching.
Three hours should be enough. She’d been working for the last six after the zoo had closed for the evening.
And I’ve done the best I could, Margaret thought, gazing warily at Zaran, the beautiful, fierce tigress in the big cage.
Okay, now for the test.
Margaret drew a deep breath and then pressed the gate release on the door that separated Zaran’s cage from that of the smaller cage occupied by her cub.
Zaran knew that the cub was there. Would she go to the cub or ignore him? She’d had a particularly difficult birth and they’d been separated for days. After that, the damage had been done; from the time they were reunited, she’d refused to accept him as her own. Once she’d even tried to maul him.
If Zaran chose to go to him, would she kill him?
There was nothing Margaret could do now if Zaran made that decision but go into the cage after her. She could only hope that the tigress had paid attention to what she’d told her over and over and would be able to get over that irrational antagonism.
The tigress was moving slowly into the cub’s cage.
And Margaret quietly opened the gate to Zaran’s cage and crawled into it. She should at least get in a closer position if she had to make an attempt to stop Zaran.
Zaran stopped just inside the cage, looking at the cub.
Margaret said quickly, Yours.
The tigress hesitated. Not mine.
Oh shit, Margaret thought.
No, remember? We talked about it. Yours.
Zaran just stared at the cub.
Dammit, Margaret thought in frustration. She had spent hours linked to Zaran, subtle persuasion alternating with less subtle domination. But it was difficult to dominate any tiger, much less one as stubborn as Zaran. The tigress was not only bad-tempered; she was obstinate as the devil.
Okay, be patient.
I went over and over with you what happened that night the cub was born. It wasn’t his fault they took him away from you.
Your fault?
No, not mine. She’d better edge quickly away from that idea in case Zaran again decided she was the enemy. But now you’ve got him back.
Zaran stood there gazing at the cub without enthusiasm.
Margaret tensed, getting ready to follow Zaran into the cub’s cage.
Keep calm. Spend a little more time.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes.
The tiger still didn’t move away from the gate.
Then, abruptly, Zaran crossed the cage and plopped down beside the cub. But she still didn’t touch it.
Yours? Margaret asked.
Impatience from Zaran. As if the question was stupid. Mine.
Margaret drew a deep breath of relief. So far, so good. Now just a little more time to monitor the situation.
An hour later, Zaran started to feed her cub.
Margaret’s muscles relaxed and she slowly got to her feet. It would be all right now. Zaran had forgotten that first animosity and she would accept the cub. Now Margaret had to get out of this cage before Zaran decided she also had to be a protective mother to her offspring. It was possible that she would ignore Margaret’s previous interaction with her if primitive instinct took over. Zaran hadn’t shown signs of being particularly stable.
Margaret silently backed out of the cage and jumped to the ground. She swung the gate shut behind her.
“Don’t move. Not a muscle. I don’t want to hurt you.” The barrel of a pistol was pressed into the middle of her back.
Oh shit.
Nicos.
Not Nicos’s voice. But what the hell did it matter? It was probably the other one that Devon had called her about. She had a gun in her back.
She swung her left foot back and connected with his shin. Then she ducked sideways and started running. She heard him cursing as he ran after her. At least he hadn’t shot her.
Yet.
If she could make it to the habitat, then she could hide until he—
He tackled her. She fell to the ground, striking her cheek on the cement.
Pain.
Dizzy.
She rolled over and socked him in the jaw. She followed it with a right hook to the stomach. Then she lifted her knee and struck with vicious force between his legs.
He grunted in pain at that last blow and his hands closed on her throat. “Be very still,” he said through his teeth. “Or I’ll go for the carotid and you’ll be out for a long, long time. I’m tempted to do it anyway. You’ve annoyed the hell out of me, Margaret Douglas.”
Tempted, but he hadn’t done it, and if she wasn’t unconscious, she might be able to find a way to escape from him. “Let me up. You weigh a ton. You’re hurting me.”
“And you nearly cracked my jaw,” he said sarcastically. “Besides that more painful injury. You may be small, but you’ve been taught well. Nicos?”