Falke’s Captive

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“You expect me to believe that you honestly think an animal can read?”

Then she wondered why she was afraid of the professor. He was angry, yes, but he’d never truly harm her. He was a professional scientist. Perhaps offense was the best defense.

She stood and snatched up the Falke collar from the desk. “Now I want to know what you are going to do with that cat. I thought we were in this together. You gave me the assignment to regain access to Falke, but here he is.”

“Your efforts were taking too long.”

“Are you trying to oust me from this project? Did you forget that I found the cat first, that I shared the results with you? Me. Why would I jeopardize the project?”

For a split second he studied her face as if he believed her outburst, but then his eyes narrowed.

“You know more than you’re telling.” He held the notebook up as evidence.

She cast a glance at the cat that had started to growl again. “You didn’t answer my questions.

Where’d you get him?”

Whitmore’s laugh sounded a little off, strained. “People shouldn’t let their pets walk around free.

I got him the same way you did.”

He shot me with the tranquilizer right outside the store. Drugged me. I woke up here. What the hell is going on? Whose side are you on?

She glanced at Sindre again, then back at the professor. “So, take his blood and let him go. We can conduct the tests again, regain the evidence we lost and move on. Why have me waste time going through surveillance footage if you already had the cat?”

“Because there’s a saboteur here, and I want to know who.”

“Fine, but why keep the cat? All we need are some blood samples.”

You fucking bitch! She winced at the volume behind the puma’s rage.

“He belongs to someone. We should let it go. He’ll find his way home. The brothers told me he always does.”

“Are you kidding?” Whitmore said. “You think the damn thing can read. And don’t try to convince me otherwise. You’re a terrible liar, Elizabeth. We already know his blood has anomalies enough to change the way people think about evolution. Don’t you see? He’s the fucking missing link!” His face flushed red, and beads of spittle flew from his mouth when he shouted that last statement.

Now she was scared. Terrified. Whitmore was losing it.

“An animal with human patterns of DNA…”

“Professor,” she said, backing up a step. “I spoke with two of the brothers last night. They agreed to give me access to the cat.”

Sindre hissed, attracting the professor’s attention. She also glanced at the cat and gave a tiny shake of her head, then looked back toward Whitmore who watched the aggressive, caged cat.

“They said I could take the blood sample, so if we just take a vial and let it go, there’s no harm done, no reason to move the lab. But they swear there’s nothing different about his blood than any other cougar. He was born in captivity, but he’s as normal as any of the wild ones in the Wenatchee.”

“You’re lying.” Whitmore glared at her again. “I’m not stupid. They wouldn’t let you near him before, and now they’re willing? What changed their minds? I wonder.”

Seeing the look in his eyes, she chose to keep tight-lipped rather than answer that question.

“You’re a liar, Elizabeth Coldwell, and a damned fool. And if I discover that you’re the one behind all of this sabotage, which I suspect you are, I’ll make damn sure you never get your doctorate.

Never!”

He’s psycho, Sindre told her. You need to get the fuck out of here.

Beth swallowed hard. “I’m not lying. Look. Here.” She reached into her pocket to pull out her cell phone. “We’ll call them right now. Kelan Falke. He said I could have what I needed for the tests.

Call him. Ask him. Wouldn’t it be better to have their cooperation than face legal ramifications for stealing their property? It could jeopardize the entire study.”

Professor Whitmore snatched her phone from her hand. “No one ever owns what is inherently wild. Besides it’d be their word against mine. I don’t need their permission anymore. Not when I have the cat. As soon as Tim gets his ass back here, we’re leaving, and once news of this discovery breaks, their claims will be seen as nothing more than small-town yokels trying to get rich off my hard work.”

He gave voice to her worst nightmare. The Falkes would be unable to lay public claim to the cat.

To do so would bring too much media scrutiny to their family, and they couldn’t risk that with babies on the way. Trying to fight the battle through legal means would take too long, be too drawn out. And all the while testing would continue. Tears stung her eyes as she thought of what Sindre might have to endure if she failed to help him escape.

The professor turned partially and looked at the cat, and his face broke into a huge smile. “He’s a beauty, isn’t he? I can’t wait to open him up and see what makes him tick.”

Beth’s breathing damn near stopped.

Get out now! He’s gonna kill me if you don’t get help. Is that what you want?

She dashed for the door, but Whitmore caught her around the waist.

“No,” she cried out.

The cougar in the cage yowled and hissed.

“Where are you going, Elizabeth?”

“Let…go!” She struggled against his grip. Just as she’d almost broken free, he grabbed her hair and jerked her head backward. “Ah-oww!”

For a middle-aged fat guy, he was damn strong.

“You’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to let you run to your lover and tattle. This cat is headed straight back to the university. And if you don’t like it, then I guess I’ll have to—oomph!”

Beth elbowed him in the gut, but it wasn’t enough to make him release her. In fact, if anything it pissed him off, and he jerked her back to the desk using her hair and shoved her into the chair again.

Tears burned her eyes from the pain in her head. Strands of her hair dangled from his fingers as he opened the bottom drawer on a cabinet.

“You can’t kill that cat,” she cried when he came up with a vial of potassium chloride.

“Who said this was for the cat?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, she heard from Sindre. I have to change. He’ll kill us both if I don’t get out of here and stop him.

“No,” she screamed at Falke as she jumped up and tried shoving Whitmore out of the way. If she could just knock him off balance and make it to the door, she was sure she could outrun him.

Whitmore cursed when he dropped the vial in his effort to prevent her second dash at freedom.

“Don’t do that,” she shouted at the cat. If Sindre changed and stopped Whitmore, the family secret would surely be out. They damn sure didn’t need to let Whitmore witness more than what he already knew. Right now, all he had was speculation and conjecture. She wanted to keep it that way.

This man wasn’t going to keep anyone’s secret. Not if he would steal a pet and threaten to kill her over it.

Whitmore obviously thought she was talking to him and laughed, even as he seized her by the damn hair again and stopped her dead in her tracks.

She twisted around, grabbed her own hair at her skull and tried ripping it from his grip, but he had too much, too big of a handful. She couldn’t break free, no matter how hard she tugged. And then he slapped her in the face hard enough to snap her head back, and she cried out as stars danced in front of her eyes.

Got it, she heard Sindre say, but didn’t understand what he meant until her eyes cleared and she saw him paw at the vial that must’ve been kicked near the cage during their struggle.

“Sit down, Elizabeth,” Whitmore said in a too-calm voice. “Be a good little student.”

Her stomach heaved, and her breaths came out in short pants, but he gave her no choice. He forced her to