The Trouble With Tigers Page 9

  Chet laughed.

  The hangar was empty except for a cage big enough to hold a tiger, a camouflaged Humvee and a table loaded down with backpacks and weapons.

  Samson examined the cage. “Were you able to get everything we needed Juan?”

  “I did and gear for the lady.”

  Samson picked up the smallest backpack and tossed it at me.

  I caught it.

  “Everything you’ll need is inside the pack, including feminine hygiene products.”

  I could feel my cheeks getting warm. Well, shit! I had never had a man buy me tampons before. “Gosh, I’m overwhelmed at your thoughtfulness. Thank you, Juan.”

  “You’re welcome ma’am.” Juan handed me a set of camo fatigues and a pair of military boots. “You can change in there.” He pointed to a restroom.

  “Thanks.” I walked into the tiny bathroom, locked the door and stripped off my filthy, sweat-soaked uniform. Huh? Juan had even included fresh underwear. Holy hell! The bra was the correct size. A 36C. Had one of them searched my house? The thought of some strange guy pawing through my underwear drawer made me want to scream.

  Samson pounded on the door. “Get a move on. The hunt starts in two hours.”

  Oh crap! I quickly got dressed, tossed my ruined uniform in the trash and opened the door.

  All the men bristled with weapons.

  “Do I get a gun?”

  “No!” They all said in unison.

  “I hit what I aim at.”

  “That’s what we’re afraid of,” Chet replied.

  Samson handed me a makeup bag. “Doll yourself up.”

  “Say what?”

  “Get in the Humvee and put some makeup on. You’re our honey bait.”

  “A honey bait with grungy hair,” I shot back.

  Samson jammed a brown baseball hat on my head. “Not anymore.”

  I let out a long sigh and climbed in the backseat. My cute pixie cut was history.

  Big surprise. Samson, the control freak, was driving. Chet and Juan joined me in the back, while Ted got in the front seat and typed away on his tablet.

  “Longhorn Exotic Hunting Ranch is five miles on the other side of Chico. It has security cameras, armed patrols and a ten-foot-high barrier fence lined with razor wire,” Chet advised.

  “How are we getting in?”

  “Through the front gate. My little lady wants to shoot herself a water buffalo,” Samson answered in a Southern drawl.

  Now I understood the need for makeup.

  Chet held up a mirror. “Some mascara, a touch of eye shadow and a little lip gloss should do the trick.”

  Putting makeup on in a moving car wasn’t easy. After jabbing myself in the eye a couple of times, I finally managed to “doll” myself up.

  Chet put the mirror away. “You’ll do.”

  “Bless your heart,” I said in my best Southern drawl.

  Juan grinned. “Ever thought of joining the CIA? We could use someone with your talents.”

  “That would be a no. This will be my one and only mission. I’m a pet detective not a secret agent.”

  “According to Harry, you’ve seen a lot of covert action,” Samson commented.

  Harry had a big mouth. “Not. Interested.” I looked out the window as we drove into Chico. It resembled an old frontier town from the 1880’s, but instead of hitching posts there were parking meters. The few people on the sidewalks were all armed to the teeth. “The town folks expecting an armed invasion?”

  “There are a lot of militia groups in the area who use Chico as their base of operations,” Chet replied.

  “Oh, and I bet they’re best buddies with the owner of Longhorn Ranch.”

  “That they are,” Juan confirmed.

  We turned off the main highway and drove down a tree-lined driveway.

  A black iron gate with the emblem of a Longhorn steer on it, guarded the entrance to the ranch. The black metal barrier fence rose up on either side of the road, creating a long, narrow tunnel. “What a perfect killing field,” I murmured.

  Chet nodded. “The owner, Ben Brendan, was a three-star general in the Army. He was dishonorably discharged for smuggling stolen antiques out of the Middle East.”

  “And he seems to like killing critters,” I added.

  Samson interjected, “Brendan met Kuti in Nigeria. They both like the good life, slaughtering wildlife and making money. They became friends and business partners.”

  “I am shocked,” I said in mock surprise.

  Samson pulled up to a speaker box that was equipped with a nifty surveillance camera. He held up his ID and hunters pass. “Johnson hunting party.”

  A deep voice asked, “What is your password?”

  “Water buffalo two three six,” Samson replied.

  “Proceed to the hunting lodge.”

  There was a loud click and the gate swung open.

  Samson drove the Humvee down the narrow road.

  My eyes bugged when I noticed machine guns mounted on the fence. “Holy cow, Brendan plays for keeps.”

  “He does,” Samson agreed.

  I asked nervously, “Is the Humvee armored?”

  “It is,” Chet responded.

  Juan grinned. “But it won’t protect us from a missile strike.”

  “Bet Kuti gives him a discount too.” I thumped Samson on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you blow him up with the nightclub?”

  “I tried,” he replied as he stopped the Humvee next to a steel reinforced guard shack. Samson held the hunting pass out the window.

  I quickly unbuttoned the top three buttons on my uniform.

  The burly guard looked the document over carefully and turned his attention to us.

  I pasted a come-hither smile on my face, leaned over the seat and stroked Samson’s face. “Are we almost there, sugar?”

  The guard’s gaze locked on my cleavage.

  Samson gave me a smacking kiss. “Almost, honey.”

  “You know how much I want to shoot myself a water buffalo,” I said and fluttered my eyelashes at the guard.

  “I do.” Samson turned to the guard. “What my lady wants, my lady gets. Can we go?”

  The guard handed him the hunting pass. “Everything seems to be in order. Please pull into the visitor’s parking slot. Your hunting guide will meet you there.”

  Samson nodded. “Will do.”

  Ick. Ick. Ick. Scrubbing frantically at my mouth, I dropped down on the backseat. Where were the cootie wipes when you needed them?

  Chet held out the tube of lip gloss and cocked an eyebrow when I didn’t take it.

  “Fine.” I snatched it out of his hand and reapplied the sheer red gloss. “Happy?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The barrier gate rose up, allowing us to continue down the narrow road. The trees parted to reveal the hunting lodge. To my surprise it resembled an old log cabin but on a much grander scale. There were armed guards everywhere.

  My gaze froze on a small, Roman style amphitheater. “Oh, my God, please tell me they don’t actually have gladiators fighting the lions and tigers?”

  “It’s one of their more popular venues,” Samson said.

  I watched a man clad in leather gladiator gear walk into the arena. “It can’t be legal.”

  “It’s not, but Brendan has the local officials in his pocket,” Chet said.

  I smiled in gleeful anticipation. “I’m going to enjoy taking that bastard down.”

  “We stick to the plan. No deviations,” Samson growled.

  I resisted the urge to smack him upside the head and inquired sweetly, “And what is the plan?”

  Samson snapped, “You do what I tell you, when I tell you.”

  “Seriously?” The man was an idiot if thought that would work.

  “Do you want that damn tiger rescued or not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll follow my orders.” br />
  “Yes, sir.” My gaze fell on a bright pink SRX Cadillac parked at an odd angle. “What happens if a third party blows your plans all to hell?”

  Chet gave me the evil eye. “We leave. The tiger dies.”

  “And if an innocent woman dies too?”

  Samson parked the Humvee and turned to glare at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Since you bugged my office you know who Stephanie Boyd is, dontcha?” I pointed at the Cadillac. “What are the chances of there being more than one tricked-out pink Cadillac?”

  “With those rims? Slim,” Chet said.

  “It belongs to one Stephanie Boyd, owner of the Royal Circus,” Ted advised, his gaze fixed on the tablet.

  Samson punched the dashboard. “Fuck!”

  “What I want to know is, who told Stephanie Karma was in Chico, Texas and how in the hell did she get here so fast?”

  “Your boyfriend or one of his cop buddies has a big mouth,” Samson snarled.

  My jaw dropped when I spotted Trixie talking to a short, older dude. His camo uniform stood out in sharp contrast to Trixie’s ringmaster outfit. She even had a whip to go with the black top hat and red tailcoat.

  The older dude said something Trixie didn’t like. She flipped him the bird and stormed off.

  “See that petite redhead dressed like a slutty ringmaster?”

  The guys nodded.

  “That’s Trixie Birmingham. She’s the murderous bitch who killed Stephanie’s ex-husband and stole Karma.”

  “According to our database, Trixie and Brendan are lovers,” Ted said.

  Trixie disappeared inside the arena.

  “I wonder what she did with Archie’s head?”

  Chet stared at me. “His head?”

  “Yep, she’s really fond of carrying it around with her. God knows why.”

  Juan asked, “What happened to the rest of the body?”

  “Karma ate him.”

  “And you want us to rescue a man-killer?” Juan looked at me like I was a few bricks short of a full load.

  “Karma didn’t kill Archie, Trixie did, and a hungry tiger will eat anything to survive.”

  “In 2015 Trixie was diagnosed with paranoid narcissistic disorder,” Ted suddenly remarked.

  “Big surprise. So, what’s the plan?”

  With a calculating expression Samson asked, “Can you locate Karma?”

  “I can, but I need my crystal to find her.”

  Samson unzipped a side pocket on his cargo pants, pulled out my amulet and handed it to me. “No funny stuff.”

  I saluted him. “Yes sir.” Slipping the amulet back on, I wrapped my hands around it and concentrated on Karma. She was locked in a cage beneath the amphitheater. I linked mentally with her. “Where’s your momma?”

  Karma padded to the cage door and stared at the cell across from her.

  Stephanie was chained to the wall with her horrified gaze fixed on Archie’s rotted head. Trixie was one sick bitch.

  “Are there men guarding you?”

  Karma turned her head. A young Hispanic man wearing camo fatigues walked towards us. He had a 9mm in his holster and carried a cattle prod.

  I could feel Karma’s pain and hunger. I mentally petted her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. The bad people are going to pay for what they’ve done. I’m gonna free you and your momma.”

  Karma’s roar echoed around the amphitheater.

  I broke the link and realized the men were staring at me. “What?”

  “Your eyes were glowing,” Chet answered.

  “When I mentally link with a critter, they sometimes do that. Brendan built himself a prison beneath the arena. Stephanie and Karma are being held there. I only saw one guard.”

  Someone knocked on the driver’s window.

  Samson rolled it down and tensed. “You’re our guide?”

  “I am. You can call me General Brendan or sir,” a raspy voice said.

  Holy shit! I shot Chet a worried look.

  He shrugged.

  “I like dealing with the top dog.” Samson got out of the Humvee, opened the back door and held out his hand. “C’mon Bambi.”

  Bambi? I placed my hand in his and stepped out. I’ll be damned. I could look the General square in the eye. I bet he thought he was the next Napoleon Bonaparte. I smiled brightly. “Goodness gracious, aren’t you just the cutest little thing.”

  Samson tightened his grip until it was painful.

  The General laughed. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

  “Sugar, I think you and I are going to be good friends. Very good friends,” I simpered and managed to free my hand.

  “I agree. The water buffalo you’re hunting today is a perfect specimen.” The General’s gaze roved over my body and from the gleam in his eyes, he liked what he saw. “Your buffalo stands six feet tall at the shoulder and has a horn span of five feet.”

  “My love dumpling promised me not only the biggest one, but the meanest one too.”

  “Wild water buffalos are notoriously aggressive and have been known to attack lions in the wild,” General Brendan advised.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” I clapped my hands and jumped up and down in excitement. “Could we do that? I mean, pit a Bengal tiger against my water buffalo. I’d love to see that. It’d be epic. A real-life fight to the death.” I fanned myself. “I get hot just thinking about it.”

  Samson draped an arm over my shoulders and plastered a besotted expression on his face. “Gotta keep the little lady happy. Can it be arranged for say another ten thousand?”

  “It can,” General Brendan said with a touch of avarice in his voice. “Let’s go to my office and we can work out all the details.”

  We followed him inside the lodge.

  “Do you have a lady’s room General?”

  He nodded. “Down the hallway and to the left.”

  “Thank you so much. I need to freshen up.” I patted Samson’s butt. “I’ll be right back Sugar. Don’t forget to open a bottle of champagne so we can celebrate.”

  Samson clamped a hand around the back of my neck, leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You do anything stupid and the tiger dies.”

  I gave his right nipple a hard twist and giggled like a brainless bimbo. “You naughty boy.”

  A muscle jerked in Samson’s cheek. “Only with you, darlin’.” He turned to General Brendan. “Let’s get this done. I have plans for tonight.”

  Yeah, like strangling me. I winked at the General. “Me and my bodyguards will be right back.” I sashayed away.

  Juan and Chet trailed after me while Ted went with Samson.

  I grimaced at the dead animal heads adorning the wall of the bar. Holy hell! Stuffed animals dotted the patio area too. I was shutting this awful place down.

  Chet grabbed my arm before I could enter the lady’s room. “We need to check it out ma’am,” he said loudly and whispered, “I hope you know what you’re doing?”

  “Me too,” I murmured and did the wee-wee dance. “Please hurry boys.

  Juan did a thorough check of the restroom. “All clear.”

  I hurried into a stall, closed the door and mentally scanned the area. My stomach rolled. The rotting corpses of the slaughtered animals had attracted scavengers. A lot of them. There was about a hundred rats, a zillion flies and a family of skunks who were chowing down on a variety of insects. Drawing on my Doolittle powers, I directed the rats to chew on the arena’s electrical wiring. I aimed the flies at the revelers in the bar. The family of skunks I sent to look for Trixie in the arena.

  I widened my search. Hot damn! A huge colony of fire ants and wasps were only fifty feet from the lodge. Good thing the General was too cheap to invest in a good pest control company. Once I was done, the hunters would avoid this ranch like the plague. I ordered the little buggers to go say howdy to the hunters on the patio and in the monstrous trophy-filled bar.

&nbsp
; An evil smile curved my mouth. Forty longhorn steers grazed peacefully in a nearby pasture. I linked with a steer and looked around. A single gate kept them away from the hunting lodge.

  A movement in a nearby tree caught my attention. Oh lookie! There was a Capuchin monkey. I connected with it. “Open the gate.”

  The minute the monkey swung the gate opened, I focused my attention on the herd of Longhorns and projected the sound of thunder into their minds. Lo and behold. A stampede started. The cattle charged out of pasture and onto the carefully groomed gardens of the lodge.

  The guests were running this way and that as the fire ants and wasps attacked. They took one look at Longhorns rushing toward them and fled.

  I broke the link. Flushing the toilet, I washed my hands like a proper lady and opened the door.

  Juan and Chet were at the end of the hallway watching several Longhorns trash the lobby.

  I walked up to them. “Think that’s a big enough distraction?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they both said as they swatted madly at the horde of flies buzzing around them.

  Flies which completely avoided me.

  Juan gawked at me. “You’re responsible for the flies, aren’t you?”

  “I am.” I twirled a finger and flies left. “Let’s go rescue the damsels in distress.” I let out a girlie scream and ran towards the arena.

  My bodyguards followed me.

  All forty of the Longhorns steers trotted after me.

  Putting on a burst of speed, Chet and Juan charged into the arena, leaving me behind with the cattle.

  What a bunch of wusses. I entered the arena and the first thing I noticed was the blood-stained sand. The second thing was my bodyguards high up in the stands.

  I sent out soothing vibes to the Longhorns and commanded them to stay.

  Outside of the arena chaos reigned. Screams, curses and gunfire were followed by the roar of dozens of engines. I winced at the repeated crunch of metal on metal. It sounded like a demolition derby as the fear crazed hunters made their getaway.

  A metal door was flung open and Trixie charged out with the skunks in hot pursuit. The Longhorns didn’t even slow her down.

  I gagged as she sprinted pass me. Lordy did she stink. The flies were gonna love her.

  Chet called, “Is it safe?”

  “Yes,” I shouted back.

  They hurried down the steps.