I look down at my coffee, tapping my finger against the ceramic cup, gathering my words for the rest.
“Maybe it was stupid, wishful thinking, but a small part of me wondered if that explained the errors. I hoped I was wrong to be suspicious. So I met the conservation officer, sure he could tell me how to change the name back to Priscilla and Niles Foss, the actual owners...”
My throat tightens. My tongue feels like cotton. I don’t know how to go on.
After several long, silent seconds, Grady stands.
“More coffee, Willow? Can I get you some water?”
He’s too good.
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” I joke.
“No. I’m intrigued, but you need a break and I want more coffee. Keep going while I grab us a refill. What did the conservation officer say?” he asks over his shoulder.
I shrug, watching him walk across the room.
Digging at the truth lodged in my gut hurts, but I owe him that much.
“Nothing. He never got back to me. I called him, sent him texts, emails, even called his supervisor. His boss told me Wayne was the one in charge of those permits, and he’d have him contact me. He said other people were on vacation and Wayne was busy covering them, but it was just...” I look up at him as he fills my cup with coffee. “Nothing but excuses.”
“You got a full name for this dude?” Grady asks, walking back to the counter.
“Officer Wayne Bordell.” I take a drink of fresh coffee and wait for Grady to join me again. “Those permits to possess I questioned were for animals that disappeared. Some were for animals I’d never seen show up at the sanctuary. Several jaguars and leopards, mostly. Then, a couple days ago, I saw one for Bruce. I have it in my suitcase, so legally, I’m the only one who can possess him.”
“Glad you did your legwork,” he says, stroking his thick, dark beard. “But your boy has to be in a licensed facility, doesn’t he?”
I sigh, flustered that he’d catch on so quickly.
“Unfortunately, but I had to get him out of there!” I hiss. “Yesterday morning, I noticed his paw was hurt. It looks like it was burned, branded, and maybe the iron had stuck to his pad and torn it. He kept oozing blood. I called the vet, insisting on a visit. It wasn’t a total emergency, so he said he’d be out the following day. Then, toward evening, when I went to check on Bruce again, I saw it. A little blue sticker above his cage.”
Never, for as long as I live, will I ever look at a simple little sticker the same way.
To me, they’re omens, the darkest kind.
“Sticker? I don’t follow,” Grady says. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well...I’m not sure. Not completely. But I know it’s nothing good. I have the one I peeled off Bruce’s enclosure in my suitcase. They have some kind of odd numbers embedded in a different shade of blue. It’s subtle, but it’s there. I can’t figure it out. Every animal that’s disappeared had one above their cage before they went MIA, though. I knew what was coming. I swear to God, I couldn’t let that happen to him, so I...”
“You jacked him,” Grady says with a nod.
“Basically. I waited until everyone else left before I loaded him up. The closest sanctuary without any ties to Minot is in Wyoming, so I figured if I could just get him there, he’d be safe while I sort out what’s really going on.”
He holds up a hand, as if he has a question.
I wait, taking a sip of strong black coffee.
“Hold up. Am I assuming correctly that the truck and trailer are also stolen?”
Uh-oh. There go the wheels turning behind that handsome face again.
I nearly choke on my coffee but manage to swallow it ungracefully without making a mess.
“Um...maybe?” My throat burns and it comes out like a low squeak.
“Shit!” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, grasping the bridge of his nose before sweeping his hand away and leveling a razor-sharp gaze on me. “What else did you steal?”
I swallow another boulder.
It hurts because my throat is locking up.
“Just a laptop. Honest. That’s the end of it.”
“A laptop,” he echoes coldly, his entire demeanor shifting as his thick hand flops against the table. Not quite slapping it deliberately, but the effect is just the same. I wince. “We both know it’s not just a laptop, Willow. It’s data, probably the incriminating kind that’s gonna piss off a whole lot of people who’ll want to keep it under wraps.”
“Grady, I know!” I throw back, worried by the lines showing on his forehead.
He stands up in a quick, angry burst.
“Dammit, woman, I’ve got two kids! They’re just little girls. I can’t be roped up in—”
“I know!” I shout again, this time louder, pulling at the ends of my hair.
He sounds so worried, so stunned, my heart is pounding. Harder than it was when I’d left the rescue last night in a stolen vehicle with a stolen tiger.
“Grady, I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I won’t. As soon as my truck gets fixed, I’m gone. No one ever has to know I was here with Bruce. You’ll never hear from us again. I swear. And...and I’ll still give you a reward for helping me. Every penny I can muster.” My voice cracks.
Dad won’t be happy to have me come begging for money from my trust fund after blowing my life savings on rescuing Bruce, but I know he’ll understand.
Who knows, if I’m lucky, maybe there’ll be some reward for turning in the Fosses, if it gets that far.
But Grady stops pacing, pushes his hands behind his back, and turns to stare at me.
“For the thousandth time, Willow—I don’t want no damn reward.” He grabs his phone out of his pocket.
I leap to my feet, ready to do the same desperate snatch and grab as I did last night.
“Oh, no. Please, Grady, please don’t. Don’t call the sheriff. Please.”
I have to think fast. Searching for a way to convince him, I circle around his massive shoulders to face him.
“One paw! Just one freaking paw of Bruce’s is worth over a thousand dollars on the black market. Did you know that? His bones are worth over a hundred and fifty dollars a pound, and if they’re made into wine...it’ll sell for over thirty thousand dollars a case. It’s sick. His hide is worth twenty thousand dollars, and his eyes—”
“Wine?” Grady stops in his tracks, flaying me open with a look.
Here come those tears.
“Y-yes. Tiger wine is a specialty, highly sought for its supposed medicinal benefits.”
“What the fuck?”
“I know! That’s why I couldn’t leave him there. I couldn’t let him disappear to be killed and harvested or...who knows. I’m sure Priscilla and Niles are connected to the black market. There are just too many shady things going on there for them not to be. So please...please, just let me get my truck fixed and I’ll be off like a rocket! I promise you’ll never hear a peep from me again.”
He’s back to pacing the floor, much like a big cat does, slowly and angrily moving back and forth, turning his head to look at me every now and then.
Court is in session, and something tells me I did a bad job pleading my case.