Freakn' Cougar (7 page)

Damn. That was a lot of people to sort through.

In a stroke of luck, or on purpose, Patricia was back to escort him to his cell by the time the warden let him go with a stern warning about not getting mixed up with the wrong sort and keeping his nose clean if he wanted to earn some privileges.

Stu adopted an apologetic mien that never worked on his mother but did wonders with the warden.

“I promise to behave, sir, and to not let my roommate lead me astray.”

“That’s a good boy. What do you say I have my secretary sign you up for some prison work, something to keep you busy and out of trouble?”

“That sounds wonderful, sir.”

It seemed Stu could act better than expected because he managed an enthusiastic smile, another promise to behave, and even earned a smile from the warden before he exited his office right into the arms of his favorite prison guard.

A grin stretched his lips. “Honey! You came back for me.”

“What is it with you and your cellmate’s insistence on stupid nicknames,” she grumbled.

It seemed his cellmate had insisted on more than just annoying her with a pet name. Stu didn’t miss the tell-tale flush in her cheeks, her slightly swollen lips, and the more telling sign of a cat having rubbed his scent all over her.

And after he’d told the irritating feline she was his mate. Back-stabbing jerk. Despite the less than ideal environ or situation, Stu would have to step up his game. Now if only he could figure out the rules along with a play that wouldn’t get him tackled and penalized.

“How long is Ricky going to be gone?” Weeks if he was lucky so he could solve this case, impress Patricia, and then claim her as his own.

“A day or two, so try and keep out of trouble.”

He almost pouted at her repeated insistence on treating him like a rebellious teenager. “I can take care of myself.”

“But you’ll be useless to me if you get yourself tossed in solitary like your friend,” she reminded him.

“I’ll behave.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

Awww, she was getting to know him. Stu smiled. She sighed. He grinned wider. “Good news by the way. The warden likes me. Says he’s going to get me assigned a job, which means a little more freedom.”

“No luck I take it with his files.”

“Nope. The man is clean, or at least his computer is.”

“I’ve yet to find something on the staff,” she admitted. “Then again, the RCMP only has the basics on file from their job applications. I’ve been running their names through Internet searches and checking out their online profiles on social sites but, so far, nothing.”

“How common is it for prison staff to get transferred around to other locales?”

She shrugged. “Not very. Most people tend to stick to their hometown area to work.”

“Chances are good then that we’re looking for someone who would travel among prisons without drawing notice. Someone with access to prisoners and who wouldn’t raise suspicions if they left after a few months, only to pop up at another one.”

“Assuming they’re keeping the same identity,” she pointed out.

“Good point. Any chance you can sneak in some of the files from the other prisons to me?”

She snorted. “Not really. I mean, seriously, how would I explain a stack of file folders with confidential info being given to you? It’s not exactly approved reading material.”

“I guess not.” Stu dropped his head as he pondered the dilemma. An idea struck him. “Could you put them in an online cloud and give me access? Then I’d just need to log onto a computer somewhere, say like the library, to access it.”

“Do you know how long it would take me to scan all those pages?”

“Okay, maybe not the files themselves because, as you pointed out, our suspect is probably using different names, but the face would remain the same. If I could see the pictures of the staff for each prison, or have access to them online, then I could run them through some facial recognition software for comparison.”

“You have access to that kind of program?”

“All good hackers do. It’s why we make such good stalkers.” He laughed at her mumbled, “Perv.”

“Hey, I never said I did it. Just that I could.” And had, if electronic stalking counted. While in the warden’s office, he’d done a quick search on Patricia and gleaned some interesting information. He didn’t reveal it though. Having an ace up his sleeve might come in handy.

Arriving at his cell, she ignored the catcalls of the other inmates as they passed them, but Stu frowned, and his wolf, hackles raised, growled in his mind. He didn’t appreciate the lewd remarks or suggestions. This was his woman. The fact he might have once joined them in making disparaging remarks didn’t mean he excused them now. Behaving himself might prove a hard promise to keep if the jerk-offs around him didn’t shut the hell up.

Something in his expression must have alerted her to the fact he wasn’t happy because she lowered her voice to say, “You know, if you want to call this off, let me know. I can yank you at any time. You don’t have to do this.”

“Why the sudden concern? Are you aware of something I’m not? Has the killer already struck?”

“No. But you got lucky today in the exercise yard. You might not the next time. This is a human place. You can’t rely on your wolf to save your skin. And I might not be around next time either. Not all the guards would step in or give a damn if some prisoner was beating your head off the cement floor.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure I only bother guys smaller than me.”

She sighed. “Are you intentionally trying to drive me nuts?”

“I’d rather drive you insane with passion, but we don’t exactly have the privacy for that.”

She recoiled from him. “You’re too young for me. I thought we already discussed that.”

“No. You claimed it. I never agreed. If you ask me, you’re just right.”

“You know you’re the second guy in the past week to think he’s my mate.”

A curl of Stu’s lip went well with his caustic, “I heard about Ricky’s supposed claim.”

“Don’t worry. I set him straight. I guess I should tell you since I already told your misguided roommate. I was mated once before.”

“I know.” His quiet admission had her stumbling a step back. “I also know he died a few years ago.”

“You spied on me?”

“You call it spying, I call it research. I wanted to know who I was working with.”

“Did your stalking also mention I’m not looking for another mate?”

“Fate doesn’t always give us that choice.”

“Then fate is an even crueler bitch than I gave her credit for.” Bitterness in her words and eyes shining bright with moisture, Patricia shoved him into his cell, and the door slammed shut, the click of the tumbling lock her final say on the matter.

Or so she thought.

Far from being an idiot, Stu had grasped from the moment he’d read about her previous mating in her file that she’d take some convincing. He knew many shifters believed that they could only mate once, for life. But, when first his sister then a few of his brothers ended up in polyamorous relationships, he’d studied the rules he’d grown up with and discovered a number of interesting facts.

For one, ménage groupings were not all that uncommon, especially when shifter birth levels reached all-time lows or when one sex dominated the numbers of the other. It seemed nature had a way of wanting to restore balance. He also discovered that if a mate died, then it wasn’t entirely unusual, if the one left behind was still in child-bearing age, to have another mate appear on the scene.

As for Patricia’s insistence that age should keep them apart … Exactly when should he admit he’d always preferred a more experienced woman? Even as a young man, he’d eschewed the bubbly girls who flocked the clubs and singles scene for the more mature ladies who knew what they wanted. A mature woman knew how to not only ask for what she wanted but give it. They also didn’t play the games or give in to the emotional crap those with less experience and maturity did. The older females also had a tendency to see past his foot-in-the-mouth syndrome and seduced him instead of ridiculing his attempts at flirting.

Given the choice between a kitten his age or a cougar like Patricia, he knew who he wanted. Now he just needed to convince her, which meant he needed a plan to get her alone. If he could only kick-start the mating fever, then nature would take care of the rest. Once she gave in to the spark growing between them, he’d leave prison a changed man. A mated one.

“Bloody fucking hell.” The curse echoed in the barren room, the highlight of the place the wall plastered with prison schematics, schedules and pictures of inmates. Welcome to the war room where the hand of justice plotted its next move. And next killing.

According to the lunar calendar, the full moon approached, which meant the time to put the plan in motion was imminent. The prison, which initially boasted only two noticeable shifters, suddenly spawned two more, but in a bad stroke of luck, the newest ones shared a cell.

How to arrange an incident without a witness? Taking them both out with the drug smuggled in past oblivious guards was doable, but how believable would a dual
accident
seem? Was it time to add a new scenario to the list?

Waiting for an opportunity to strike meant letting the filthy animals live. Letting them wear a mask of humanity. Hiding amongst them, waiting for their chance to harm the unsuspecting. Something had to be done, but overreaching wouldn’t achieve that goal. Sticking to the current plan would have to do for the moment. Perhaps by the time the next full moon occurred, the housing situation for the two newest shifters would have changed. Cellmates were reassigned all the time.

At least the first pair would prove easy. The lone shifter who spent most of his time staring at the walls of his cell in solitary—reports claimed he’d lost his interest in communicating years ago—would prove no issue. He would die first.

The other dirty beast on the schedule for extermination shared a cell with a human. Lucky break, the human male was currently involved romantically with a guard. By keeping a close eye with a specially placed camera, it would be simple to slip in during one of those trysts and administer justice.

And then that would leave only two. Two fit animals that would have to be split up. Difficult or not, they would die. Where there was a will, there was a way. A promise needed to be kept. Vengeance would be satisfied. And the unholy creatures walking among them would pay for what they did with their lives.

The emptiness of the apartment taunted Patricia. Why it bothered her today when she usually treated it only as a place to sleep and eat she couldn’t have said. There was nothing physically wrong with the space. It was just a generic apartment, rented because of its proximity to the prison, so similar to the one she lived in just outside of Ottawa.

Beige walls, beige carpeting, the furniture that came with the place—black pleather sofa and chair, two-person pine dinette set, a simple double mattress on a metal frame. The only thing different from this apartment versus her own was hers at least had her favorite shows on PVR.

Unsettled but unable to pinpoint why, Patricia skipped dinner—not a hard task given the frozen variety meals she kept stocked in the freezer, blech—and stripped in favor of a shower. She draped her uniform on a chair in the bedroom before heading into the bathroom, where the mirror over the sink cast her reflection. She paused to take a look.

It wasn’t vanity to admit that, for a woman her age, she looked good. She kept herself in shape, working out daily, eating healthily, and it showed in the clarity of her skin, the tautness of her muscles, and general healthy appearance. Just shy of the big four oh, yet she could probably pass for early to mid-thirties. Not bad.

What bothered her was why she even pondered her looks. Could it have something to do with the fact that she had not one but two younger guys vying for her attention? Actually, they wanted more than her attention. They both outright proclaimed an interest in claiming her as their mate.

Why?
Why them, why now, and the most important question of all, what should she do?

Despite the fact she’d told them it was impossible, she couldn’t deny the pull they both emitted and the attraction and, yes, the interest of her cougar. It only took seeing them to make her inner kitty pace and yowl, urging her to mark the men and claim them.

Her inner feline didn’t care that Patricia preferred to remain single.
That I don’t want to lose or ruin my memories of Ryker.
She recognized all too well the signs of the mating fever. The hunger. The uncontrollable arousal. The need …

A part of her even welcomed the sensations, the feeling of aliveness thrumming through her. How long since she’d felt more than a passing interest in the world around her? But another part, at the same time, felt guilt.
How can I betray Ryker like this?
Never mind he would never want her to spend the rest of her life alone. She couldn’t help but feel that by even thinking of the other two men she betrayed what she’d once shared with her mate.
I loved him so much.
And when he died, it was as if a part of her died with him. Only … the hole in her heart, the ache that was her constant companion these past few years, had disappeared. Something filled it. Threatened her memories.

I don’t want to forget Ryker.

But what could she do to stop it, to stop Stu and Ricky from wiping out her past? Even separated from them, she couldn’t turn the tide of her thoughts. When Ricky kissed her today, she almost lost control, almost took him up on his offer to find somewhere private and ride him to ecstasy. Her body still lamented the fact she’d walked away.

Then there was Stu, even younger and shyer in his declaration. The less suave wolf had admitted his feelings and was unable to hide his hurt when she’d brushed him off. Worse? It pained her to do it. She wanted to take the words back and soothe him, kiss away his pain and …

No!

He deserved someone closer to his age. Someone less emotionally damaged. Someone cute and perky … and young.