Leopard's Blood
Joshua stood abruptly, his desk chair rolling back as he paced across the room. How had Alonzo, his brother and cousins managed to stay sane in such an environment? Husbands murdering their wives, often right in front of their children? A man killing his newborn daughter?
Joshua pulled the heavy drapes to block out the sunlight. The darkness was a bit of a relief, but he needed medication. His grandfather had been like those men. Depraved. Vile. He would have been the type of man to kill his woman without a thought. Joshua hated the idea of Sonia growing up in a house with a man like that. Joshua had always thought his grandfather was the worst of the leopards, had every bad trait there was, but Nikita was just as vile. Not just Nikita, but Alonzo's uncles and father.
He took the medication the doctor had prescribed. Drake's doctor. The man was leopard and a highly skilled surgeon, yet he'd taken the time to figure out medication that would help a migraine. How did some men turn out like the Doc and Drake and others like Nikita and his own grandfather? That ran in his genes. It ran in Alonzo's genes, and Joshua had worried for his cousin, Evangeline. He'd been so certain he wouldn't find a mate of his own that he hadn't worried as much about his own genetic code. Now he had to worry that another woman he cared for, Sonia, was once again mixed up in a lair where the leader was insane.
Cursing, he stretched out on the bed, wishing she was there with him. Her fingers in his hair. He loved when she did that--and she did it often. Little caresses that massaged his scalp and made him feel loved. Her touch was always gentle after they made love. Sex with her was wild and rough, but afterward, he was always tender, and she was so gentle and caring that sometimes he almost couldn't bear it.
She had been hurt so deeply by the Bogomolov family, just the way his mother had been hurt by the Tregre family. How did she recover from that? How did she trust again? Especially when he had to tell her that he'd taken over Rafe Cordeau's territory and he was involved with the Bogomolov family. More, he had to tell her that Nikita knew she was alive.
He took out his phone and stared down at it for a long time before he texted her. Where are you?
It took a moment before she replied. He knew she didn't like him tracking her. Hasn't Kai reported in?
Baby. He sent her a one-word reprimand.
Still at Jerry's going over this enormous list of supplies, trying to trim it down.
I need to see you tonight.
Again, there was a brief pause. Is there something wrong? Are you all right?
She had a sixth sense, he knew she did, at least when it came to him.
Nothing big. Stupid headache. That was hard to admit to her, but if they were going to live together she had to know he wasn't always going to be manly. Nothing a dark room and a little bit of meds won't cure. And Sonia's fingers massaging his scalp.
Joshua, do you need me? Migraines are the worst. My dad used to get them. My mother showed me how to massage his temples for him. It helped. I can come over after I'm done here. I told Molly I'd drop by her house before I left town because she wanted me to look at some odd wormhole or something like that she thinks is in her bedroom. She's afraid her entire house is being eaten by woodworms. I can put that off.
He studied the text for a long time, happiness bursting through him. Right away. She'd change her plans to get to him right away. He hadn't thought she would ever do that. Sonia seemed so elusive, except when they had sex. Every other time she was just out of reach.
I want to take you dancing. And out to dinner. I want to have a barbecue with you and your friends. I want to show you off, let everyone know you're mine.
Again, he got that long pause, as if she was trying to figure out why he said those things to her. She didn't know he had a file on the Bogomolovs or that she was in it. She didn't know his investigators were digging up everything they could find on Sonia Lopez and her family.
Joshua, I'm coming over.
He needed a little time for his headache to ease before he saw her and told her everything. He would need all his wits about him to convince her to stay with him. He texted Gray to meet Kai in town and help watch over her. Then he turned his attention to Sonia.
No, babe, go to Molly's and ease her mind. She doesn't have it easy. She wouldn't have asked if she didn't need you. I just have a headache. I took meds and it will go away soon. We'll have dinner tonight, my house. I'll have a chef in. Or we can go to a restaurant if you prefer. Whatever you'd like.
You'll have a chef in? Just like that?
And candles. You like candles. They're all over your house. You never come here.
You know why. I'm working there.
Today you've been off work. I want the world to know you're mine. We can start with Evan and the others.
Ha. Ha. Ha. I'm pretty sure they already know.
He liked that she didn't object to him calling her his.
Go look at Molly's wormhole and tell her it isn't a wood-eating worm, even if it is. She'll never stay home and she'll want to come over to your house and if you won't come here, I have to be there. I want you with me tonight. Got that?
Got it. You rest. I'll see you tonight and you can tell me all about your meeting.
His meeting. With Nikita Bogomolov, the man who had tried to kill her. He closed his eyes, wondering how that was going to go over.
9
MOLLY'S house was on a quiet street, tucked back into a cul-de-sac edging the outskirts of town. The river and swamplands were just a scant half mile away in the distance, across a field from her backyard. The house was small, but the yards surrounding it were extensive and beautifully landscaped. She worked in them all the time.
Her front porch was large, like many of the verandahs in the neighborhood. She had a two-person covered swing and one egg-shaped basket chair that dangled on a chain from the ceiling. It was a woman's home. First her grandmother and then Molly lived in it and the stamps of the two women were clear. The house was painted a soft, barely there green with lacy white trim around the windows. The cushions in the swing and egg basket chair were green-and-white striped.
"I sit here every single night," Molly confided as she turned the key in the lock. "It's my favorite thing to do."
"I almost always sit on my back porch," Sonia said. "It faces the swamp, and I love to listen to the frogs and swamp cicadas. It's just so beautiful."
"All I could think about if I owned your property was a big alligator sneaking up on me. Or biting insects." Molly gave a delicate shudder. "Mosquitoes."
"They don't bother me," Sonia admitted. "I think I give off some kind of chemical that repels them. I guess that's why I don't mind going out day or night in the swamp. I don't have the bug problem a lot of other people do."
"I wish I had that repellent." Molly pushed open the door, hurried inside and punched in the code to disarm the alarm.
"It's because you're so sweet, Molly," Sonia said. "Even insects know it."
Molly burst out laughing. "That sounds like such a line. I would expect Bastien to say something like that."
"He might, but like me, he'd mean it. You really are sweet. I don't understand how your parents could throw you under the bus for money."
"They both have addiction problems. They'd do just about anything for money. They grew up with it, were given everything and never held accountable, and the two of them were toxic for each other. It started in high school. They were in and out of trouble then, and their parents bailed them out and paid people off every single time. My grandmother really regretted how she raised my mother."
"How were you raised? You said you had a lot of money at one time." Sonia followed her into the kitchen.
The house was cozy. One story. The great room was larger than the other rooms, but far smaller than Sonia's living room. It was painted in pastels, and somewhere, Molly had found a rug of the softest wool, patterned with soft blues, golds and creams. It took up most of the floor, giving a room that might have been cool a rich warmth.
Molly shr
ugged. "My mother started taking drugs after she had me in order to get thin again. She really blamed me for her weight problems. By the time I was four, they both were into drugs so heavily, I don't remember any other way of life. They liked going out and were gone more than they were home."
"That's awful," Sonia said, thinking about how wonderful her mother had been to her.
The formal dining room, right off the kitchen, was very small, holding a four-person gleaming oak table and chairs. A single chandelier hung over the center of the table. Dark wood made up the sideboards and cabinets.
"Maybe, but I didn't realize it because I didn't know anything else," Molly said, her voice matter-of-fact. "I think there are a lot of kids growing up the way I did."
Sonia had to agree with her, but it didn't make it right. Her father had been murdered and her mother forced to do unthinkable things by the very man who had ordered her husband's murder. Through it all, her mother had made her life wonderful.
Molly's kitchen was small, but very efficiently built. There was a breakfast nook in the corner by the windows, so one could look out as they drank their morning coffee. Molly opened the fridge and pulled out a large pitcher of strawberry lemonade. "I made this before I left the house. It should be ice-cold."
Strawberry lemonade was a weakness. Sonia nodded. "Love some. We'll have to sit for a while before I tackle the woodworm thing."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. There are holes, like some horrible creatures bored through my walls. I've been on an extensive wall search and I marked every hole I found," Molly said, filling two tall glasses with ice and then pouring the lemonade. "I counted seven of them." She handed one glass to Sonia. "Two in my bedroom. Two in the great room. One in my dining room and two in the kitchen."
"The worms have managed to bore a hole through the kitchen wall too?" Sonia tried not to laugh. "All the way through?"
Molly nodded solemnly. "I noticed the holes because there were tiny bits of sawdust on the floor. That's how I found all of them."
"Sawdust?" Sonia couldn't help the frown. Joshua had told her she didn't have a poker face. She put down the glass. "Show me. I want to see the wood shavings."
"I threw them away. It just looked like sawdust to me. Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I thought you were a little paranoid, but if you saw sawdust at every site, that means whatever is boring a hole through the wood is on the outside to begin with. It's weird that there would only be one or two holes in each of the rooms. No holes in the bathroom wall? Show me the two in here."
Sonia had a bad feeling. The house was made of cedar. It wasn't very likely that there would be an infestation of bugs. More, they would be grouped in one or two rooms, not spread through the house like that. She went through the list of bugs in her head. There were a couple of types of beetles, termites, carpenter ants, certainly old home borers . . . She frowned. She hadn't seen any evidence outside on the porch of any destruction by insects. She'd been there to give an estimate on redoing the garage and had looked at the wood. It was something she couldn't help.
One or two holes in different rooms? Sawdust on the floor, on the inside? She didn't like that. She followed Molly to the side of the kitchen away from the street, facing the backyard. Molly pointed to a place about two feet from the floor. Sonia crouched down to inspect it. Sure enough, there was a very small hole, perfectly round. She stared at it for a few minutes, trying to puzzle it out in her head. It looked like a hole a 5/8ths of an inch drill bit might make. Maybe a little larger, but definitely a hole that was drilled by a tool, not a bug.
"Show me the other one in here." She looked around the kitchen, trying to see the line of sight one would have from the outside, if they could see anything through such a small hole. It might afford them a view of the breakfast nook, depending on what was outside.
The second hole was in the front of the house. It was a little higher, maybe three feet up, and this one also looked drilled, not chewed. It was in line with the sink and cutting boards where Molly worked.
"I'd like to look in your bedroom," Sonia said.
"What is it?" Molly asked. "Do you think the walls are riddled with bugs? I've heard of bees making their nests inside walls and people having to move." She led the way down the narrow hall to her bedroom.
"It's definitely not bees, Molly."
The bedroom was about the same size as the kitchen. The bed was a four-poster, in antique seafoam. The duvet was white lace as were the curtains. The dresser and vanity were scrolled wood in antique seafoam. A woman's room. Sonia thought it was beautiful and classy, just like Molly. The wall separating the interior from the outside was the only wall that might have the "wormhole" on it. The other three were all interior walls.
"I checked that wall yesterday," Molly said. "If I'd found anything, I wouldn't have slept in my bed."
Sonia saw the telltale pile of sawdust. The hole faced the bed. She touched the hole with the tip of her finger. It felt like a hole one might drill through wood. She crouched low to examine it, shining the light from the small flashlight she carried on her keychain.
"Do you get dressed in here? In your bedroom?"
Molly sank down onto her bed. "It isn't worms, is it?"
"There's something inside the wood. I'm going outside to look."
"What do you think it is, Sonia? Has Blake found me? Is that what you think?"
"I don't know yet. I'll be right back." She hurried outside and sprinted around to the side of the house, her heart beating wildly in her throat.
On the outside, she found the entry point. Using her flashlight, she located the thin tab and pulled. A tiny, wireless camera fell into her waiting hand. She smelled Kai and Gray before they got to her and whirled around to face them, the camera in her palm.
"What the hell?" Kai said. "Where does that lead?"
"Molly's bedroom."
"How many?" Gray spat the question at her, already striding around the house, using his leopard's ability to smell and his visual acuity to find the other cameras.
She followed him. "At least seven more. She undresses in that room, Gray."
Kai had circled around the house in the other direction. In the end, they found nine cameras. Molly came out onto her porch and watched them, her knuckles jammed in her mouth and tears running down her face.
"It's him, Sonia. Blake. He's found me. I should have known not to come here. It isn't like I had tons of money, and I don't have much now to be able to pick up and leave. What am I going to do?"
Sonia put her arm around Molly's waist. "You can stay at my place while we figure out what to do."
"I don't sleep with clothes on," Molly whispered. "They have recordings of me without clothes and--" She broke off, looking horrified. "Sonia." She began to sob.
Sonia knew exactly what she meant. She was alone a lot and needed sex. To have someone violate one's home and record every private moment, that wasn't right. "Pack a bag and let's get out of here. We can talk at my house."
A dark-colored SUV pulled up to the curb and Bastien Foret slid out. He walked toward them; his sharp gaze took in the group on the porch, touched Molly's tears and then dropped to the two men. Both slid the cameras into their pockets as he approached.
"Molly? Are you all right?" It was a demand, spoken in a low tone of complete authority.
Molly dropped her face into her hands and cried louder.
Bastien moved right past Kai and Gray to pull her away from Sonia and into his arms. "Someone better tell me what's going on here. And I mean right now." There was steel in his voice.
Kai and Gray separated. It was a subtle movement, but it put them to either side of the detective.
Bastien narrowed his gaze on Sonia, not in the least intimidated. "Tell me."
"Molly?" she asked. She wasn't going to tell Molly's story, not without permission. She had no idea if Molly had confided anything at all to the sheriff.
Molly nodded, her fists curling in Bastien's shirt, her face pressed tightly a
gainst his chest.
"I hope that means it's okay to fill him in," Sonia said, giving her a second chance to protest.
Molly just nodded her head again. Bastien tightened his hold on her. Sonia noticed he did that with one arm--the other was close to his weapon.
"Molly was held prisoner by a man for weeks. He beat her, raped her, broke bones and threatened to kill her. Unfortunately, the man has money, and he's connected to law enforcement. Her family wants money to feed their addictions, so the first time she got away from him, they sold her out. When she got away again, she came here to hide. We think he's found her."
Bastien's face was a mask of fury, and Sonia stepped closer to Kai without thinking. "You didn't think to tell me this sooner?"
"I couldn't break her confidence. She was terrified you'd believe him because he has that connection to law enforcement. He's a district attorney. Apparently, he knows everyone in his hometown. The cops are on his side. Molly was terrified of being sent back there. She thought he might put out a BOLO on her and you'd arrest her."
Bastien ran his hand down Molly's hair. "Honey, how could you think I'd do that without talking to you? You have to know I would have believed you."
"We found these," Gray said, pulling the tiny cameras out of his pocket. "Someone drilled holes in her house and stuffed these into the walls so they could record her every movement. Foret, they recorded her in her bedroom."
Their eyes met over Molly's head, Bastien's betraying his fury for one moment.
"There has to be a remote around here somewhere to collect the data." Gray glanced around the neighborhood.
"Open field, up to five hundred feet, but that's pushing it," Kai said, looking toward the field behind Molly's house.
"Or one of the houses across the street. A neighbor's house, or the field," Gray suggested. "I'll take a look around."
"I can take her to my house to be safe while you all look," Sonia offered. "I don't want her here for all this."