chapter THIRTY
Their games—playoffs, finals, or otherwise—didn’t end like the ones people watched on TV. There was no media, no interviews, no discussions about gameplay with anyone beyond the coaches. Instead, players just returned to the locker room, showered, changed clothes, and sometimes went to an after-game party or dinner.
Zé waited with Max’s sisters and friends for her to make her way down the gauntlet of fans. She and the others signed autographs, hair wet from the shower, game bags slung over their shoulders. Looking at Max and the rest of the Butchers’ “Badger Force”—which was what the triplets now called her four honey badger teammates—he couldn’t tell that they’d just taken down a shifter-run kidnapping ring. Quickly, efficiently, and—according to his chat with Charlie during an interesting halftime show with giant panda rappers directly from Hong Kong—without any loss of victims or serious harm to her team.
That was huge, considering the number of victims they’d had to deal with.
Because the team had only won their first playoff game—they had quite a few games to go before they made it to the finals—their celebration consisted of a dinner at a shifter restaurant in Chinatown. Although Shen pointed out that this particular restaurant was not run by giant pandas but a South China tiger family, Zé noted that the menu still catered to the pandas. He’d never seen bamboo combined with so many things before. And Shen ordered at least half of them.
As the team and their friends and family enjoyed the night and their win, Max was surprisingly quiet. She didn’t smile as much as she usually did either.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked her when she rested her head on his arm.
“We should have been better. Our timing tighter.”
“During the game? Are you kidding?”
“No. We did pretty well at the game. I’m talking about . . . before. We were off before.”
“You got yourselves and the vics out without any losses. That’s impressive. You guys didn’t even train together. And Charlie was a new element.”
“Charlie and I have worked together most of our lives and I have worked with my teammates since we were all around eleven or twelve. Putting everyone together should have worked just fine, and it did. But still . . . we need better timing.”
“Does this mean you’re going to keep doing this?”
“I don’t know. It was nice to help others . . . while still getting to kill assholes. That was very enjoyable.”
Zé shook his head. “How about we not talk about this? You do your thing. I’ll do mine.”
“What does that mean?”
“I got an offer from the Group. And then I got an offer from Katzenhaus.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where you’ll be stationed? Because both those organizations have offices around the world.”
Zé put his arm around Max’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you.”
“That was not what I was—”
He put his forefinger over her mouth. “Shhhhh, my love. We’ll talk about your obsession with me later.”
“I hate you.”
“You wish.”
* * *
When Max woke up the next morning, Zé had already gone downstairs. He was probably hanging out in that damn tree. He loved to lie around in that tree!
She showered, dressed, and walked downstairs. When she stepped into the living room, Max turned toward the kitchen. But she stopped and looked over her shoulder. Confused, she walked toward the front of the house until she reached the sunroom.
“Can I help you?” she asked the stranger sitting on the love seat that faced into the house.
The female frowned and stared at Max hard but didn’t reply.
The front door opened and Stevie walked in. She smiled at Max and the woman on the love seat but kept going.
“Stevie?”
“Uh-huh?” She came back into the room. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know who this is. Do you know who this is?”
“No. I assumed you did.” She smiled at the female. “Hello.”
The female gave a wave.
“Can we help you with something?” Stevie asked. “Are you lost?”
The female shook her head. “I’m waiting.”
Her voice sounded . . . odd. Muffled. Like she had a head cold. But nothing about that set off alarm bells. Her sister, however, reacted as if she’d been struck, stepping back and gawking at the woman.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Stevie didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped closer to the female and asked, “Are . . . are you Natalie?”
Now Max felt as if she’d been struck. She looked the female over. She did look young. And pretty. Big brown eyes, dark brown hair with red ends.
Stevie tapped her left ear with her finger. “Deaf?”
The girl smiled, nodded.
“You can read lips?” Max asked.
“Well,” Stevie interrupted, “even those who can read lips only get about twenty percent of what people are saying.”
“I didn’t ask you. I asked her.”
“I’m trying to help. It’s better if we use ASL—American Sign Language.” She looked at Natalie. “You do know sign language, yes?” And while Stevie asked the question verbally, she also did things with her hands and fingers that suggested she was asking it in ASL as well.
Max didn’t know what she expected from the girl who’d been kidnapped by their father, but “I have known you five minutes and you have annoyed me” was definitely not it.
Max laughed but Stevie was just insulted.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Help me do what? I’m deaf, not disabled. And your ASL is weak.”
“Burn,” Max snickered.
“Well, you don’t have to be bitchy.” Stevie pointed at her mouth. “Can you read that?”
Max put her hand on Stevie’s shoulder to calm her down. “Where’s Freddy?” she asked Natalie.
“In the trunk.”
The sisters exchanged glances.
“In the trunk of what?” Max asked.
“In the trunk of the car I stole from Mairi MacKilligan before I killed her.”
Max cringed a little. “Sweetie, you only think you killed her.”
Natalie stood and stretched her arm around Max’s neck, pressed her fingers between the spot that connected the spine and skull. “I slipped the blade there. She’s definitely dead.”
When she stepped back, Max could only ask, “Wait . . . who are you again?”
* * *
Zé was relaxing in what he now considered his tree, the feral cat on a branch above, when a hand reached up and yanked him down.
He landed on his feet, his gun pressed against someone’s throat before he realized what was going on.
“Nice reflexes, house cat.”
He lowered his weapon. The Malone brothers. Just great. And he was having such a very nice morning, too.
“What are you doing here?”
“My sister’s here. We want to see her now.”
“Well, thank you for not taking down the door this time.”