The Trouble With Tigers Page 5

  “No, but they aren’t feeding Karma and the only thing left of Archie is his head,” I answered.

  “You think the tiger killed him?” Captain Martinez had a sex kitten voice.

  “Karma’s not a man-killer. I think they used the tiger to get rid of the evidence.”

  “The SWAT team has been notified. Once I have a search warrant, we will search the carnival for the cat and the remains,” Captain Martinez said.

  I had a feeling the Captain wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Karma. “I need to inform the owner that you will take all necessary precautions to keep Karma safe. The tiger is a valuable circus animal and has a Facebook page with over five hundred thousand followers.”

  The Captain said coldly, “Tell the owner I’ll contact the zoo for a tranquilizer gun.”

  “I will.” I walked back inside my office and brought Stephanie up to date.

  “Are you sure they won’t shoot Karma?”

  “Captain Martinez said they would use a tranquilizer gun if necessary,” I replied.

  “What now?”

  “Now we wait. Detective Callaghan will contact us as soon as he knows something.”

  “And if they don’t find Karma?”

  I picked up the bone. “I’m very good at what I do. I can locate her again, no matter where they take her.”

  “Good.” Stephanie gave me a wobbly smile. “I just want my baby to come home.”

  “You’ll get her back.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise,” I vowed.

  Dutch gave me a disapproving glare as he stepped back in my office. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  A sob broke from Stephanie.

  The jerk must have skipped out on sensitivity training. “I’m stating a fact, detective. I can find Karma and I will bring her home.” I locked eyes with Dutch and dared him to contradict me.

  His gaze never leaving mine, Dutch asked, “What hotel are you staying at?”

  “The Boulders,” Stephanie answered.

  “As soon as I know anything, I’ll call you.”

  “Thank you.” Stephanie got to her feet and reached for the gun.

  “Leave the gun,” Dutch snapped.

  Stephanie fled the office.

  “That wasn’t necessary.”

  Without warning Dutch switched topics. “What did you do with the lion?”

  “Lion? Karma is a Bengal tiger.”

  “Don’t play games with me. It was a great disguise, but I’d know you anywhere,” Dutch said with an ill-tempered growl.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Kuti plays for keeps and when he finds out you were involved in his sister’s death, the theft of the lion and the destruction of his nightclub, he will come after you.”

  Not if my dad got to him first. I smiled sweetly and patted his cheek. “Is that genuine concern or are your arrest stats down?”

  Fury flared to life in Dutch’s eyes. “Do you think I want to investigate your murder?”

  “No. God no.” I chewed my lower lip. Talk about a rock and a hard place. “I wasn’t involved in blowing up that nightclub.”

  “But your friends were.”

  “The man responsible is not my friend,” I snapped.

  Dutch’s hands balled into fists. “Who is he?”

  “He’s a CIA operative and he’s untouchable. You need to stay away from him.”

  “Not a chance, sweetheart.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The only thing testosterone will get you is an unmarked grave in the desert.”

  Dutch snorted. “I’m not that easy to kill.”

  “News flash. You’re not bullet proof, but go ahead, be stupid. Jana has some great funeral plans. I’ll have her send you the brochures,” I slid in nastily.

  Dutch stared at me for a long moment. “He scares you.”

  “He’s a stone-cold killer and utterly relentless. He does whatever is necessary to complete his missions. If you get in his way, he’ll slit your throat without hesitation,” I warned.

  “Fuck!” Dutch’s eyes widened in horror. “He wants to use your Doctor Doolittle powers, doesn’t he?”

  My shoulders slumped. “In Pakistan, no less.”

  “Does your dad know?”

  “No.”

  Dutch’s eyed me with disbelief. “Why haven’t you told him?”

  “Because I don’t want you arresting my father for murder.”

  “Your dad’s a tough old guy but going up against a trained assassin isn’t a smart idea.”

  “You think you can take on a trained assassin and win?”

  “I can and I have,” Dutch declared calmly.

  “And I think you’re blowing sunshine up my butt, lover.”

  Dutch grinned. “I was part of an elite branch of the Marine Corps. When the Green Berets or Navy Seals struck out, they sent us in.”

  “You’re trying to tell me you were a Raider?” I scoffed.

  “You’ve heard of us?”

  I nodded. My dad and I had a run in with one of their teams in Kenya a couple of years back when we were liberating some baby elephants. The only reason we had made it out in one piece was because I sic’d a locust swarm on them.

  Dutch rubbed the back of his neck. “Please tell me you weren’t anywhere near the Masai Mara game reserve in 2016?”

  “Okay, I won’t.”

  “My buddy said they were chasing some elephant poachers when this horde of locust came out of nowhere and blinded them. The suspects got away. It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “I’ve never been to Africa,” I lied.

  Dutch shook his head sadly. “You’re a bad liar.”

  “Got any proof I was in Africa?”

  “No.”

  “Then this conversation is over.” I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of pop out of the fridge.

  Dutch followed me. “How about I take you out to dinner tonight?”

  “I’ll have to pass, I’m working.”

  “What kind of critter are you searching for? I can help.”

  “Jana has a memorial service at Resthaven and I’m one of the motorcycle escorts for the funeral procession,” I replied.

  Dutch’s cellphone rang. He pulled it off his belt. “Callaghan. Yes, sir. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear anything from the Santa Fe police?”

  “I will.” Dutch brushed his lips over mine in a gentle caress. “If you promise to call me the minute that CIA assassin contacts you.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  His mouth closed over mine in a sensual kiss that stole my breath. “It’s the only way to keep you safe.” Dutch walked out.

  I touched my mouth. Damn, could he kiss. My phone rang. I picked it up and said brightly, “Finders Pet Detective Agency, we locate your beloved pets. How may I help you?”

  “This is Sergeant Mike Manning. I spoke to you earlier today about my daughter’s cat.”

  “Yes. I have an opening at 11:30 if that’s convenient.”

  “It is,” Sergeant Manning replied.

  “I’ll need something Missy has touched. A collar or a toy or a blanket.”

  “I have her favorite toy.”

  “Good. I’ll see you at 11:30.”

  Chapter Six

  The Sergeant was right on time. Tinkerbell let out a deep-throated growl when he entered.

  “Manners,” I warned her mentally.

  Tinkerbell stubbornly refused to offer her paw. Arf.

  “I know you hate guns, but police officers are required to wear guns, just like Uncle Dutch and Grampa are.”

  Arf. Arf.

  My eyes widened. Holy crap! Dad and I needed to have a talk about his language. “That potty mouth gets you a time out, young lady.”

  Tinkerbell marched back to the kitchen in a huff.


  Sergeant Manning smiled at me. “Why do I have the feeling you two were talking?”

  “Because we were.”

  “Oh, right. The Doctor Doolittle thing.”

  “Please, have a seat.” I gestured at the chairs.

  “I really appreciate your help. My daughter’s refusing to eat until Missy comes home,” Sergeant Manning said as he sat down.

  “How long has Missy been missing?”

  “Two days.” He slid a photo of a pretty calico cat across the desk.

  I examined the picture. “Has she ever gone missing before?”

  “No, this is the first time she has ever left the yard.”

  “Any coyotes sighted in your area?”

  The Sergeant’s face hardened. “Yes. You think they got her?”

  “Let’s not assume anything yet. Did you bring Missy’s toy?”

  He handed me a tattered green mouse. “She carries that dang thing everywhere.”

  I focused on the mouse. The image of the little calico sitting on top of a telephone pole flashed into my mind. I linked with her. “Show me where you are Missy.”

  She looked down at the street signs.

  “Good news. Missy’s very much alive but stuck on a pole at 47th avenue and Myrtle,” I said.

  The Sergeant sagged in relief. “Thank God.”

  “Let me lock up and I’ll see if I can talk her down.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you there.” Sergeant Manning pulled out his cellphone and hit speed dial. “Great news, honey. I know where Missy is.” The door shut behind him.

  “Are you coming Tinkerbell?”

  She trotted up to me. Arf. Arf.

  “Apology accepted.” I picked her up and locked the glass door.

  Tinkerbell growled.

  I frowned at the reflection of a man standing directly behind me. “Does he have a gun?”

  Arf.

  Fear knotted my stomach. Had Kuti’s men found me? “Don’t attack unless I give the command.”

  Arf.

  I assumed my dad’s serial killer demeanor and turned. A very large male wearing a dirty overcoat and a battered cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes loomed over me. His bushy red beard hid most of his face. “Get away from me or I’ll kick your ass.”

  Tinkerbell bared her teeth in a menacing snarl.

  The man smiled.

  Shit! I knew that creepy smile. I checked his aura. Yep. It was Samson. “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want,” he drawled ominously.

  I tried to step around him.

  Samson blocked me. “We need to talk. We can do it here or at my place. Your choice.”

  “Some other time. I’m meeting a client,” I said firmly.

  “He can wait.”

  “Fine.” Going down on my right knee, I put Tinkerbell on the sidewalk, drew the Sig Sauer P226 from my boot holster and quickly rammed it in Samson’s balls. “Back off or you’ll be dickless.”

  Samson laughed and dropped into a crouch. “Boo.”

  Letting out a girlie scream, I fell backwards and as he reached for my gun, I lashed out with a solid side-kick right in his kisser.

  “Oof,” Samson grunted as he toppled over, landing on top of a bunch of prickly pear cactus.

  I gave myself a mental high five. The girlie scream worked every time.

  Tinkerbell viciously mauled Samson’s cowboy hat.

  “Come near me again and I will kill you.” I kept my gun pointed at him as I scrambled to my feet.

  Samson carefully pulled himself off the cactus. “Damn, you broke my nose.”

  “Leave. Now.”

  “Harry mentioned you had some combat training,” Samson said as he straightened to his full height.

  I took a cautious step back. “My dad’s a combat instructor and I know a hundred ways to disable you.”

  Amusement flashed in Samson’s eyes. “Do you now?”

  “Yes.”

  Samson swiped at the blood running down his bearded chin. “You think you can take me?”

  “I know I can.”

  “I do like a challenge,” Samson said and started toward me.

  I shot him in the foot.

  Pain and disbelief flashed across Samson’s face. “Fuck! You shot my pinky toe!”

  “I warned you. You chose not to listen.” I smiled sweetly. “Do I have your attention now?”

  “You fucking bitch!”

  “Knock it off you two,” Harry bellowed as he grabbed me from behind, lifting me off my feet and pinning my arms down.

  “Let go of me Harry, or I’ll shoot you in the foot too.”

  Harry took the gun away from me. “Not today.”

  I slammed my head into Harry’s nose and kicked him in the knee. “Put me down!”

  “Dammit Kandi. You broke my nose!”

  “Boo hoo. I’m not going anywhere with you or your brother.” I sank my teeth into his arm.

  Harry howled and yanked his arm away. “I don’t want to hurt you Kandi.”

  “But I want to hurt you, a lot.”

  “She’s bat-shit crazy,” Samson groused.

  “We called the police,” Annie, the sub shop manager, yelled.

  The slick clack of a shotgun being racked was followed by Sparky’s terse warning, “You’re ten seconds away from getting a load of buckshot in your ass. A smart man would release the lady and leave.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  Being a smart man, Harry dropped me and raised his hands. “Just a misunderstanding. No harm done.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Give me my gun.”

  “I’ll be back for you,” Samson growled and limped over to a beat-up Dodge truck.

  Ignoring the blood running down his chin, Harry handed me my gun. “You’re critical to Samson’s mission. He will get your cooperation one or another.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No. Fact,” Harry stated grimly.

  Sadness swept over me. “I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am.”

  “No, you’re not. A real friend would stop him,” I retorted.

  “The only way to stop Samson is to kill him.” Harry hunched a shoulder. “He’s my brother and the only family I have left.”

  “Did you forget about your wife? I know you love her. Shouldn’t she come first?”

  “Stay the fuck out of my business.”

  The venom in Harry’s voice startled me. “Okay. I’m done with you and your group. Don’t ever call me again or my dad will be paying you a visit, along with a horde of biting critters,” I said coldly.

  Harry gestured at his already battered face. “Your dad made that very clear last night.”

  The truck’s engine roared to life and Samson yelled, “You coming?”

  “Yeah.” The instant Harry climbed into the cab, the Dodge peeled out, barely missing a city bus.

  Sparky lowered his shotgun. “Did they hurt you Kandi?”

  “No, but I sure as hell put the hurt on them.”

  Sparky laughed. “They’ll think twice about trying to kidnap you again.”

  “You guys were awesome.” I winced as Sparky’s dazzlingly yellow, sequined shirt caught the sunlight.

  Sparky smiled. “We’re family. We look out for each other.”

  “Yes, we do.” I gave him a hug.

  Tinkerbell dropped Samson’s chewed-all-to-hell hat at my feet and grinned.

  “Good job.”

  The parking lot was suddenly full of patrol cars.

  I put my gun on the sidewalk and raised my hands. “I’m the victim and the old guy with the shotgun is a hero.”

  Everyone came out of their shops and crowded around us.

  “They tried to kidnap Kandi,” Annie exclaimed to the nearest officer.

  Joe from the liquor store hollered, “They left eastbound in a 1995 brown Dodge truck. The license is DHB2134.”


  The cops holstered their guns and started taking everyone’s statements.

  Sergeant Manning walked over to me. “I heard the call go out. Are you okay?”

  “Let’s just say it’s been an interesting morning. Once we’re done here, I’ll see about getting Missy off the pole.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The minute Missy saw my daughter she came down on her own.”

  “Good.”

  Sergeant Manning pulled out his notepad. “Do you know the suspects?”

  “She does,” Dutch answered.

  I smothered a groan. This day was going from bad to worse.

  Tinkerbell proudly dragged the remains of Samson’s hat over to Dutch. Woof.

  “What you got girl?” Dutch picked up the hat.

  Sparky grinned. “DNA evidence.”

  “One of the kidnappers was wearing it and that’s his blood on the sidewalk,” Annie added.

  Joe crowed in delight, “Kandi shot him in the foot.”

  “Before you ask, I do have a concealed carry permit,” I told Dutch.

  He picked my gun up and put it in an evidence bag. “You shot him?”

  “I gave him fair warning. It’s not my fault he didn’t listen,” I said.

  Sparky laughed. “You should have seen the look on his face. He didn’t think she had it in her.”

  “Kandi’s full of surprises,” Dutch agreed.

  I smiled brightly. Yes, I am.”

  “You do what the detective tells you now,” Sparky said and hurried back inside his business.

  Dutch snorted. “He doesn’t know you very well, does he?”

  “Have you ever thought of doing stand-up comedy?” The Funeral March blared from my cellphone. Pulling it out of my pocket, I took a deep breath and swiped the screen. “Hey Jana.”

  “Any chance you can be here a little early?”

  I winced. “Ah. Well, there’s been a slight problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  Dutch snagged my phone. “Let me talk to her.”

  “Sure. Why not.” I unlocked my door and held it open for Tinkerbell. God, did I need a drink.

  Tinkerbell let out a series of barks.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you killed the hat, but it’s only worth one treat.”

  Tinkerbell scampered to the kitchen.