Scanning the gardens from the planters of herbs to the trees and from the shrubs to the flowering plants, he smelled basil and mint and other herbs. He observed the watering hole featuring fountains and ponds, saw koi swimming around in one of the ponds, and smelled the fish in the hot, humid breeze. Whirligigs spun around as the leaves of trees fluttered. His roaming gaze stopped when he spied the greenhouse, its glass walls framed in sage-green wrought iron. It was an intriguing focal point beyond the trees in the south half of the nursery.
He paused at the glass door and peered in, searching for any sign of movement among the plants. He spotted a tub filled with Amazon water lilies and a tall banana plant, which he recognized from the website photos. He could envision Maya there now. Smiling, he shook his head.
Seeing movement to his left, he jerked his head around and saw the striped tail of a house-sized cat as it scurried away, disappearing under the low-hanging branches of a pine tree.
Wade took another deep breath, smelled the cat, and continued his walk, hoping the only kind of critter he’d find here tonight was of the small variety. He really didn’t want to believe that anyone from the club would give her trouble here.
Chapter 6
Connor was certain that Kat would want to run as a jaguar as soon as he got her settled in their treetop cottage in the rainforest in Belize. But the trip and being five months pregnant with twins had worn her out. She smiled at him, then peeled out of her clothes, dropping them on a chair decorated in jungle-print pillows, and promptly slipped between the covers of the king-size bed.
Forget running in their spotted coats for now. He quickly yanked off his clothes, pulled out his cell phone and set it on the bedside table, and joined her. They snuggled, her eyes drifting closed, but he couldn’t help worrying about having left Maya by herself.
Connor sighed. Maya had wanted to give them a little time alone together, even though they had arranged for separate treetop cottages and he would have his private time with Kat anyway. But Maya was arriving tomorrow night, after the flight and bus trip earlier in the afternoon. It wouldn’t be long before she was safely here with them.
He couldn’t imagine that anything could have gone wrong with Maya being alone for only a day and a night. Yet, they hadn’t been apart much in all the time they were growing up, and he couldn’t help worrying about her.
He reached for his phone and opened it—not enough of a signal—and then sat it back down on the table. He glanced at his watch.
Damn. Next time, Maya was coming with them.
Thompson had parked in the forest and stayed hidden among the trees surrounding the Anderson house and garden nursery. He waited for at least an hour before he finally made his way closer to the house.
He’d watched as Maya’s cousins followed the car she was riding in, so he knew she had a full house—the two visiting brothers and her two cousins, he’d learned from Candy while trying to discover who all the men were who seemed so protective of Maya.
If she wasn’t involved in the theft of his cat, he did not plan to give her trouble. If she was? He would file charges against her.
Hunkered down among the ferns and shrubs, he watched and waited.
As soon as the lights went out in the house and everyone had gone to sleep for the night, Thompson planned to take a look around the gardens to see if they had any kind of structure that would house a big cat. He’d looked for evidence earlier in the day while Maya had been busy with customers. He’d confirmed that the greenhouse was the same one that the cat had been photographed in, and he’d found evidence of cat hairs on the tile floor. Then he’d followed her to the club and thought how appropriately it was named: the Jungle Cat Fever Club, a place where the sellers of illegal cats could gather and no one would be the wiser.
Now he was watching the front of the house, wishing he had his hunting buddy, Joe, with him so that Joe could watch the back door when he heard it open and shut.
Thompson moved as quietly as he could, keeping to the forest until he could see the back side of the house. He saw a small clearing of land back there—a slate patio and a grassy area. Except for the light slipping through one of the windows of the house and a couple of softly glowing iron lanterns hanging on posts, the area was cloaked in darkness. He saw no one, suspecting that whoever had opened the back door had stayed on the patio. The gardens were too dark to explore without using a flashlight.
He heard no footfalls, either. Men and a woman were talking and laughing inside, so Thompson figured Maya was still in the house.
Trying to get comfortable, Thompson settled down next to a tree, using it for a backrest and wishing everyone would go to sleep so he could investigate the property, then retire to his hotel room for the rest of the night. This was the part he hated about the hunt. The waiting.
He was stiff, hot, hungry, and getting drowsy after two hours of being hunkered down among the shrubs and trees, his thoughts drifting to his wife and adopted kids. He loved what he did—protecting wildlife from human predators—but sometimes he thought he should let someone younger do the job and stay home more with his family.
The back door opened, and he was immediately wide awake. The remaining lights suddenly shut off inside the house, but the pale golden glow from the lanterns outside cast a soft light. He held very still, waiting. The back door was still open, but no one was coming out.
In his peripheral vision, he saw movement and couldn’t help but turn his head. He quickly stifled a cry of distress.
Thompson’s jaw went slack. He wanted to yell, to warn Maya that a jaguar had run into the house—which he couldn’t believe—when another male, more golden in color, ran outside through the same door.
Two. Holy crap.
No one inside was screaming for dear life, which he couldn’t understand. The back door shut with a clunk, and the jaguar stood outside the house, sniffing the ground and the air, and then taking off down the garden path.
Thompson was having heart palpitations, while thanking God that he was downwind of the jaguar so the big cat didn’t notice him. Thompson couldn’t get his breathing under control. Trying to consider a plausible explanation, all he could think of was Maya saying she was the cat in the photo, that her family of jaguar shifters had taken her picture, then they all had milk to drink, that Wade’s brother had called her Wildcat… and that all added up to? One damned, big jaguar-smuggling ring.
Now the jaguars were loose in the house and in the garden. When he thought humans were in control of the jaguars, that had been different. If the jaguars had escaped their pen and were running loose, that was a much more terrifying prospect.
Thompson was in a hell of a fix. He had no way to get to his truck and his rifle with the tranquilizer darts without the jaguar possibly seeing his movement or hearing him.
Then the cat growled in a low, angry tone. The jaguar must have smelled Thompson or heard his out-of- control heartbeat or seen him move.
Thompson waited, knowing that running would trigger the jaguar to chase him. He was very tempted to run. Jaguars didn’t often attack humans, but Thompson knew never to tempt fate when dealing with predators. No matter what, they
The cat growled again, then again, but the sound was different—lower, angrier.
Thompson stared at the area of the gardens where the growling was coming from.
Two jaguars running free in the gardens? He was a dead man.
David had fallen asleep on the couch, resting against the pillows. Sitting in one of the velour recliners, Maya
