“Bruno Martin,” one of the investor-types said suddenly. “He’s in the files. One of the parents. He could be useful.”
Bruno wasn’t sure he needed instinct to ring alarm bells for the fact that he was in their files, identified as a parent. If they knew he was a parent, they knew about Gil, and suddenly his own safety and even Clarice’s took a back seat. “Who the hell are you people?”
“You may know a Dr. James Becket?” Hunter said.
“A little.” He was a pediatrician that had come to town a year before, one that was safe to take shifters to. He was not-so-secretly dating Vivian, who was his nurse. (Vivian had brought up to Bruno her reservations about dating someone she was professionally close with, but had been firm on the fact that she wasn’t willing to dissolve the relationship.)
“We’re old friends.” The way Hunter saidfriendsmade it clear that they were not.
“What does this have to do with me?” Bruno said cautiously.
“Maybe nothing,” Hunter said. “I’m only interested in Dr. Becket, or a little girl of his acquaintance, Tara Yang. If we get her, we don’t need to bother any of the other children at a certain local day care.” It was a very pointed statement, and a not-at-all subtle threat to Gil.
One of the investor types made a noise. “I told you, the younger ones are worth more to us. We’re only here to get one of the babies.”
The man of the plain-dressed couple gave a noisy sigh. “We didn’t sign up to bebabysitters.”
Bruno found his anxiety ratcheting with every statement. They were here for Tiny Paws children. He didn’t have to understand the dynamics of each group or the underlying motives. He did have to save his son and the other kids, and he had no idea how to do that.
“Tiny Paws has protections in place,” he tried to bluff.
“Laughable ones,” the investor scoffed, as Hunter said, “None that would stop us.”
“Are you honestly all standing around here talking about kidnappinglittle kids?” Clarice said in horror. “What iswrongwith you?”
“They aren’t little kids, Ms. Chase,” Hunter scoffed. “They’re more like animals.”
“I’m not Veronica Chase, Itoldyou.”
“When I called her number just now, your phone rang,” Hunter pointed out.
“She forwards her calls to me!” Clarice protested. “I’m a salesman at her agency!”
“Salesman or secretary?”
Clarice bristled, then deflated. “A little of both.”
Bruno was still trying to figure out how to stop them all, outnumbered, unarmed, and vulnerable in every way, awoman he was falling in love with as helpless as he was, and he stepped towards Clarice without thinking.
33
CLARICE
Clarice recognized the moment that everything went sideways, quite literally.
“Enough!” The older woman who looked like someone’s crabby grandmother made a gesture and Bruno’s ill considered advance abruptly changed direction, crashing him into and breaking the French doors open onto the balcony.
To Clarice’s distress, he didn’t stop there, but went flying over the rail in a spray of broken glass, sailing out into space and landing on the frozen swimming pool with an explosion of shattered ice before he disappeared beneath the dark surface. She heard her own scream like it was from someone else, but the nearest goon grabbed her as she got to the railing and pulled her back as if he was worried she was going to jump in after him.
“If he surfaces, shoot him,” Hunter said casually. Several of the nearest goons took that as an invitation to fire wildly at the pool and Clarice gave a strangled noise of dismay as little dimples appeared all over the ice.
“He’s a shifter,” the old man next to the apparently-magical grandmother said. “He might be something aquatic.”
Clarice found herself the focus of attention.
“What does our friend Bruno shift into?” Hunter asked her.
Clarice stared at him in horror. If Bruno wasn’t already dead, he would be the moment he came up for breath. “I don’t know,” she said faintly. She didn’t mean it as a lie, she simply couldn’t make sense of anything, flooded with shock and dismay. Air didn’t feel like it was getting to her own lungs. “I don’t know.”
