He stuck to, “Yup.”
“I wonder what it means.” She leaned forward, head cocked, as if that would help decipher the intent of the words painted in what appeared to be mustard.
“When they say give… Any idea what that could be?”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s pretty vague.”
“Yes, but we do have some clues. It’s obviously a tangible item or they wouldn’t have tossed the place.” He swept a hand, encompassing the destruction. Ripped open cushions. Drawers torn out and dumped. Cupboards pilfered, too.
“And whatever it was, they didn’t find it, or why leave a message?” She tapped her lower lip. “This has to be related to the kidnapping.”
“Maybe. Or could be more than one party looking for something. Does your brother have any place he might have stashed stuff other than this apartment? Bank box? Storage unit?”
She shook her head. “None that I know of.”
“In my experience, most people keep their precious treasures close in case they need to flee. Hidden compartment in furniture, loose baseboard.”
“Not that I’ve found.”
“We need to look and be sure.”
“Are you suggesting we go over every inch of the floor, walls, and furniture? That will take forever.”
“I’ve got a knack for finding hidden things.” He closed and locked the door behind them.
“Kind of late for that, isn’t it?” she observed sourly as she kicked at a pile of clothes then recoiled as she caught the reek of piss.
An unpleasant aroma when he wore his human shape. As his feline, smells of all kinds were fascinating.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he tugged at his shirt.
“Going to change into my liger.”
“Half lion, half tiger,” she muttered. “I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“It’s not super common. Most species are just more comfortable sticking to their own kind. But every now and then, someone who shouldn’t falls in love.”
“Like your parents.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t hold her gaze as he kept undressing and gave her the abbreviated story. “They died when I was little. Car crash. A drunk driver who’d already had his license suspended twice before.”
“That’s so sad.” Her words emerged soft, and tears glistened.
“I don’t remember much. If it weren’t for pictures, I’d have no clue what they looked like.” He shrugged, feeling his throat tighten in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He didn’t usually talk about losing his parents. “My aunts took me in when my mom’s family refused. The whole intermarriage thing. They’d disowned her.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Best thing they could have done. My aunts took real good care of me.” And they’d also taken care of the drunk driver.
“They love you.”
“Can you blame them? I’m adorable.” He winked, trying to find a bit of his cockiness to lighten the mood. Something about Charlotte had him revealing himself in a way that left him vulnerable.
“The only person I have is Peter. And I’m pretty sure it’s the same for him. Now that’s he’s gone, guess it’s just me.” Her shoulders rounded.
“We’re going to find your brother.”
“I hope so. Mostly so I can throttle him for worrying me.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “Then once I’m done shaking him, I will bubble wrap him and lock him up somewhere, so he stops stressing me.”
“At least you want to protect him. My aunts like to drop me into danger just so they can ride to my rescue.” He grimaced.
She cracked a small smile. “And then lord it over you.”
“All the freaking time,” he huffed. “I mean they chipped me just so they could find me whenever they wanted.”
“It came in handy at the cabin.”
“I’d have preferred to be left alone. With you.” He winked. “I don’t know about you, but this place is nasty. What do you say we find what we’re looking for and get out?”
“I don’t see how we’re going to find it.”
“Easy. My more refined sense of smell will let me sniff out any hidden spots.”
“You’re going to turn into a giant cat inside the apartment?”
“Think of me as a slightly larger Maine coon.”
“You’re bigger than me.”
“I am but don’t try and ride me. I’m not a horse.”
“You could probably bite my head off.”
“But I won’t. If you want to make extra sure, rub me behind the ears. It’s my sweet spot.”
“Um. Okay?”
He dragged her close and kissed her. Again, and again, until she was laughing. “Stop it. Fine. I’ll rub your ears.”
“And my belly?”
“I am not having animal sex with you.”
“Peanut! That is just wrong.” He winked, and to the sound of her giggling, he morphed. The euphoria of the shift bordered on pain, but the result made him welcome it. As his liger, he was big, strong, fast. And handsome.
He hit the floor on four paws, and head-butted his mate’s hand. It took her a moment before tentative fingers stroked the fur on top of his head. Best she got used to this side of him now.
On the plus side, she didn’t scream, but trepidation hummed through her. A step at a time. This was all very new for her and not something he could push. She needed to accept him on her terms at her own pace.
“You’re soft.”
He bobbed his head.
“And not smelly.”
He chuffed.
“Huge, too. Are you sure I can’t ride you?” said with humor.
The only kind of riding he wanted involved her naked. That wouldn’t happen in this broken place. He needed to find out if anything remained hidden and get her out of here.
Moving away from Charlotte, he took a breath. In and out through his nose, his nostrils flexing as he sifted the scents, the most pungent being the urine.
The piss split into two distinct flavors. Two people had been inside the apartment, putting their hands on everything. They’d done a thorough job. Left nothing untouched.
Lawrence did a circuit of the living area and kitchen, with a tiny window in the former. No easy escape except the door to the hall. He wandered into the bedroom, also savagely ripped apart.
Springs poked from the tears in the mattress. The pillows and their foam stuffing littered the floor. Everything from the closet was tossed to the floor, and everything on the wall had been yanked. Even a shelf had been torn from its brackets. The entire room had been ransacked, and the smells were varied, with that of his Peanut strongest. She’d been living here for months, meaning she’d imprinted the most on the space. The next strongest smell belonged to the intruders.
There was a faint fourth scent. Only here. Only one spot.
His gaze strayed upwards to the ceiling with its lazily rotating fan. He pawed a switch, and the blades slowed.
“You think he hid it in the ceiling?” she asked, craning to look upward.
He stood on the bed, the captain kind that sat upon a pair of drawers that had been yanked and turned upside down. The mattress sat at an angle, but the plywood in the frame remained, giving him a steady platform. He’d need it given the ceiling in this room sat at least nine feet. Since he’d need hands for the next bit, he shifted just as Charlotte stepped closer, putting her eyes almost level with his junk.