Hidden Nature
by Shadowriter
Part Two
Cindy stared half-heartedly at her computer. She had been doing research on big cats, kept legally and illegally, and looking up the animal sanctuaries in California. Unfortunately, the two closest she'd found were in Los Angeles and San Diego. Though there was a notation of some nearby ranches that had exotic animals, most of what she had found consisted of peacocks, llamas, emus, and a score of smaller animals. A few larger cats had been confiscated in years past, but no one, collector or zoo, had reported a big cat, or even a large dog, missing in the past several days. She was ready to give up.
Not that it would really be giving up, she thought. Ever since her discussion with Lindsay this morning, she'd had the really terrible feeling that she knew what had killed Sandra Montserat.
She'd made phone calls on and off for half the day, even going so far as to stop in at a certain tiny restaurant down near the docks, and then cross town to check in at a lunch truck near the city center before returning to the newspaper office. She wasn't looking for food, but for a person. Someone she hoped could answer her questions.
A glance at her watch told her that Lindsay or Claire should be calling soon. The autopsy would be finished and Claire would just be waiting for lab results. Cindy had a suspicion she knew what Claire would find.
After all, most of the other avenues had shown nothing so far. All Jill's investigation had uncovered was a grieving boyfriend who blamed himself for leaving his girl alone at a club, and a distraught neighbor who'd been too late in picking up her friend. Inquiries at the club had given them a clue, the license plate number of a car Sandra had been seen getting into. Lindsay had texted her with the name, to be withheld until permission was given. Anthony Venner was the prime suspect at the moment, since he seemed to be the last person to see the girl alive.
But Anthony Venner had never returned home last night, and Cindy thought she knew why. Her suspicions kept her stomach tied in knots and she never even noticed that she hadn't eaten lunch that day.
The phone rang at her desk, and she took a moment to bet herself a quarter that it was her boss wanting an update.
"Thomas."
"Tell me, Miss Thomas, why I have four messages on my cell, three from friends, and one from the guy at my lunch truck?" The owner of the voice chuckled. "What could be so very important that a hot shot crime reporter wants to talk to little old me?"
Taking a sharp breath, Cindy Thomas leaned back in her chair, tension making her fingers clench the receiver on her phone even tighter.
"There was a murder this morning."
Silence.
"Pieces of flesh were torn from the body. Like an animal attack ." Still nothing. "Whoever or whatever it was left fang marks on the body."
"Really." The word gave nothing away.
"I need to know, Drake."
"What are you asking me, Thomas?" The woman's tone was tense, but still soft.
"Two questions. First, the one I think, I hope to God, I know the answer to." She took a deep breath. "Was it you?"
The tone turned dangerous. "You tell me the answer."
"No. It wasn't."
"Very good. And your second question?"
Another breath. "Was it one of the clan?"
Silence.
"Drake, please."
"What are you going to do if I tell you it was? Announce our existence to the world? Tell San Francisco that there's a crazed half-human/half-animal on the loose? Talk to your cop friend and tell her --"
"Is there?"
"What?"
"Is there a 'crazed half-human/half-animal on the loose'?"
"Are you going to go to your Inspector Boxer and tell her that?"
"I --" Cindy stopped. "How do you know about my friendship with Inspector Boxer?"
"I keep tabs on you. You know that."
That brought the reporter up short. She had to think for a moment, and she decided to hit the original topic again. "So, is there?"
"Yes. But that's not for publication, or for sharing with your friend. Is that understood, Thomas?"
"Drake --"
"No. Your inspector friend has a habit of sticking her nose and other pertinent body parts into very tight spaces. She needs to stay out of this. And so do you." Cindy started to protest. "No, Thomas, I'm serious. This guy is dangerous. You have a habit of stepping into the street without looking, and I wouldn't want you to become road kill, so to speak."
Cindy's voice softened. "Can you stop him?"
"I'm going to have to, aren't I?"
"Can you?"
Drake chuckled. "Losing faith in me, Cindy?"
"Never. Just answer the question."
"Fine. For the reporter in you, yes. I can. I will. But you have to give me a couple of days, Thomas. Okay?"
"You'll let me know?"
"Absolutely."
Cindy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Drake."
"Behave, Thomas." And there was a dial tone.
The reporter hung up and looked around, hoping no one had overheard any of her conversation. No one seemed to be taking an extra interest in her, and she took a deep breath in relief.
Hearing from Drake had eased her mind a little. She knew she now had information she could never share with her friend -- her lover. But at least she knew that this case could be closed, even if it was never officially solved.
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and then answered.
"Hi, Claire."
"Hey. Are you staying out of trouble?"
"Why does everyone think I'm always in trouble?"
"Because you are. Anyway, are you ready to hear the findings?"
"Absolutely. I'm on my way."
"Drive carefully. And Cindy?"
"Yeah?"
"Totally off the record. There's some strange stuff here, and I need you to keep it completely quiet."
"Always."
"See you soon."
"Bye." She disconnected and reached out to shut down her computer.
The thought wandered through her mind that she'd be seeing Lindsay soon, and she smiled.
The smile faded as she realized that she had this huge secret she had to keep from the entire club, not to mention her new lover.
The ball of tension that had faded made its reappearance in her stomach.
As Lindsay had predicted, the group met in the office area of Claire's workspace. Cindy expected that she'd be the last one there, but Jill followed her in.
"No warrants on Anthony Venner. He has no record, and his parents are worried about him."
"We checked with his boss at the coffee shop he works at; he had nothing but good things to say about him." Lindsay sighed. "Either he fooled everyone, or . . ."
"Or we could be stalking the victim instead of the killer." Claire nodded and reached for her skull candy jar. As morbid as this always seemed to Cindy, she accepted the offered treat gratefully. That lunch she hadn't had was leaving her a little hungry.
"Okay, so, what do we have on Sandra Montserat? Cause of death?"
"Asphyxia. She choked to death on her own blood after her tongue was ripped out." Claire handed a copy of the official report to Lindsay. "Or chewed off, I should say."
"Chewed?" Jill made a face.
Claire grew very serious. "This is bad, Linds. Whoever did this, they wanted her to know what was going on. There were no drugs, only the alcohol she must have imbibed at the club, and that was maybe just enough to hit the legal limit. At the time of her death, her BAC was barely .06."
"So he wanted her to know she was dying." Lindsay's tone was grim.
"He didn't want her to just know it, he wanted her to feel it. Those gouges in her cheek and chest? All done while she was still alive."
Cindy's stomach turned and she was suddenly no longer hungry. "And -- her --"
"Her breast? Yes, that, too. And she felt it all."
Jill sat down on the office sofa. "Tell me they weren't really bite marks."
"That's where it gets weird." Claire slid into her chair behind her desk and opened the file. "They were bite marks. I took a close up of the teeth marks, even took a decent mold of the best one I had, and the good news is they're not human. They appear to be fangs of some kind. I faxed them over to Dr. Leven at the zoo, and he called back to ask more questions." She passed a picture over to Lindsay. "He couldn't tell me what animal this is. He said the photos look in some way like a wolf and in others like a large cat. That's where the weirdness starts, but it doesn't end there."
She picked up a small sealed bag. "We found hair inside the wounds. It looks almost human, in coloring and length. But it's not. However, after sending it out for a quick analysis at the zoo, they can't identify it either."
Cindy had to force herself not to fidget.
"Now, we also found saliva in the wounds. Again, not human, but not far from it. Even if it was a mixture of human and animal, I should have found at least two certain key indicators of that. I didn't. I found one, and then several other chemical sequences that shouldn't have been there." She closed the file.
"So, what are you telling me, Claire?"
"I have no clue what to tell you on this, Lindsay. All the chemical and trace evidence I have says this isn't a human, but all of it has human characteristics of some kind."
"Could it have been contaminated?"
"We're not talking DNA tests, Jill. Most contaminants at this stage can be identified and filtered out."
Lindsay threw up her hands. "So, you're telling me this guy is, what? Half human? Half animal? What?"
Cindy's hands gripped her notebook tightly. She didn't dare look up at the others. She'd never lied to them before, and she didn't want to start now. If she could get through this meeting without any questions thrown her way, she'd be clear.
"I'm saying, I can't tell you anything helpful this time. I'm as baffled as you are."
Lindsay slapped the desk in frustration and turned around, tossing her hair out of her eyes. Her gaze landed on the reporter. "Nothing leaves this office, Thomas."
"Of course not." Cindy was a little annoyed that Lindsay had even bothered to remind her of that.
"Any ideas, Lois Lane?"
Jill had to ask, and Cindy had no idea what to say. Did she tell them the truth? Spill the secret she knew? Or lie and say she knew nothing.
A compromise. "Well, I didn't get anywhere in looking for Anthony Venner either. His last girlfriend said they broke up because of differences in where they wanted to go. She wanted to stay here in San Fran, and he wanted to go to school in Los Angeles. He had an application at an acting academy down there. He sounds like a decent guy who was flirting with a woman in a bar, and then offered her a ride home."
All of it was absolutely true. And while it wasn't exactly an answer to Jill's question, it was enough to keep them from looking too closely or so Cindy hoped.
"Where did you get that?" Jill looked at her curiously.
The reporter shrugged. "You know me, I like to talk to people."
"And people like to talk to you." Claire gave her a smile.
Cindy gave a shy grin back and nodded. "I suppose. I spoke to a couple of friends of Venner's that were at the bar last night; they said he'd been flirting with Sandra, and when she had a fight with her boyfriend, he felt bad. They were all leaving together, and when he saw her standing at the corner waiting, he told them he was going to offer her a ride." She shrugged. "They swear there's no way he could have killed her."
Lindsay sighed. "I hate to say it, but his disappearance tells me that he either killed her, or he knows who did and is hiding -- ."
"Or he's already dead himself." Claire's voice was soft, but her words rang in the tense silence of the office.
Lindsay's cell phone rang and startled them all. "Boxer."
The other three watched nervously. Jill and Claire pulled out their own phones, anticipating calls if it was about the case.
"I'm on my way. Tell Jacobi I'll meet him there." She hung up and sighed. "They found Venner's car. It was abandoned south of the city, at a rest stop on Interstate 5. Someone parked it between two big rigs and locked the keys in the car." She slid her phone back into its holster. "There's no sign of blood or a body, but I need to get down there." She ran a hand through her head and glanced meaningfully at Cindy. "Looks like it's going to be a long night."
The reporter nodded, understanding the Inspector's unspoken apology. She would have loved to pass the evening the same way they'd spent the night before, but work came first.
Besides, Cindy didn't think she could lie next to the Inspector without feeling like a traitor.
"Drive safe, Linds. Let us know if you need us."
"I will, Claire."
"Let me know what you find. I'll be at the office until I hear from you, just in case we need a warrant." Jill stood and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"Thanks, Jill." Lindsay turned to Cindy. She wanted to take the reporter into her arms, but didn't think it would be right in front of the other two.
Claire noticed. "Oh, just kiss her and get it over with." She and Jill shared a laugh while their friends blushed.
With a roll of her eyes, the inspector kissed her lover on the lips quickly, then smiled and winked. With that, she was out the door, leaving Cindy to face the wolf whistles from Claire and Jill.
"Oh, stop."
Jill gave her a quick hug. "I think it's great." She held her friend at arm's length. "When this is finished we're going to have girl talk, right?" Their relationship had been closer since the reporter had been shot on the steps of the Hall of Justice.
"Girl talk, absolutely." Cindy smiled and nodded.
"Well, I'm off to get a sandwich for the long night ahead. Anybody want to join me?"
With a shake of her head, Claire stood and moved around her desk to lean against the front of it. "I've got a few more tests I want to run, and I'm waiting for some results from my friend at the zoo. I'll get something a little later."
"And I have to get back to the paper."
"I thought your story was turned in. Deadline is past." Jill pouted. "Are you sure you won't come with?"
"Sorry." Cindy smiled. "Today's deadline is past, but tomorrow is another day, and if Lindsay okays it, I might be able to scoop every other reporter in the city. So I'll probably end up back here if they bring in the car."
Jill sighed. "Fine. I'm resigned to eating alone." She glanced at Claire. "Don't stay here all night. You've got a husband to go home to."
"And I intend to." Claire smiled. "Unless they find something in the car, I'll be out of here in an hour."
"Good. Talk to you both tomorrow, I hope." Jill smiled one last time at Cindy and left.
"Bye, Claire." The reporter turned towards the door, but stopped when the M.E. called her name. "Yes?"
"Come in here and have a seat. Close the door."
Cindy tried to refuse, but Claire simply pointed at the sofa. Finally, the reporter obeyed. Closing the door, she took a seat, watching in confusion as Claire joined her.
"What's up?"
"Well, first off I understand congratulations are in order." She smiled, putting a hand on the younger woman's arm. "By the smile on her face I'd say it was a good morning."
Smiling in memory, Cindy nodded. "It was."
"And an even better night?" Claire's smile had turned sly.
"Not talking about that." Cindy shook her head. "Lindsay would kill me, and I just got her to stop arresting me every other day."
"Maybe, but I'll be she could get creative with those handcuffs."
Cindy blushed and Claire laughed.
"If you're done interrogating me, I have to go back to work."
"Actually, there's something else." The M.E. shifted so that she was facing her friend on the small couch. "When I was giving the autopsy report I noticed that you didn't seem surprised. I kept waiting for something, a reaction, a jaw dropping, a widening of the eyes, but it never came."
Cindy winced.
"Jill reacted. She turned green. And Lindsay didn't want to believe it, and then was frustrated. I expected both of those reactions." She leaned closer. "But you didn't react -- in fact, you looked like you were trying not to say anything."
"I --" With a convulsive swallow, the reporter tried again. "I was trying not to react, because I knew it was serious and I didn't want to distract Lindsay." Feeling slightly proud of her answer, she let out a breath of relief.
"No,Cindy, I don't believe that for a minute. You know how I know?"
"How?"
"Because you never answered Jill's question."
"What? What question?"
"She asked if you had any ideas. Normally, at that point, you let loose with half a dozen different theories on what's happening. And today all you did was give us the information on Anthony Venner." Claire leaned back and folded her arms, one elbow on the back of the couch. "So, tell me, Cindy? What were you trying so hard not to tell us?"
All Cindy could do was stare at her.
Finally, she laughed, a little hysterically. "I was trying so hard not to give anything away to Lindsay. I should have been worried about you instead."
Claire nodded. "What did you find, Lois Lane?"
Cindy sighed and put her elbows on her knees. "It's not what I found, Claire. It's -- something I -- someone -- I talked to."
"Who?"
"Her name is Drake. And she knows who the killer is."
Claire sat straight up. "Why didn't you tell Lindsay this?"
The laughter was definitely on the edge of crazed this time as tears of fear and frustration began to well in her eyes. "Tell Lindsay? Tell her what? That she needs to back off the case so the killer can be tracked down by a member of the clan who's half human, half animal? That the killer is a shape shifter who can turn himself into an animal at will?" She stood, needing to physically release the tension that had been building in her since leaving the crime scene.
"You want me to try to explain that monsters exist, that there's a clan of shape shifters that live in San Francisco, that--"
"Cindy." Claire took hold of her arms and held her still. "Sweetheart, stop. Just stop." She pulled the younger woman to her and held her tight, feeling the tears finally spill from the reporter. "Shh. Everything's okay. It's all right."
They stood there together for several moments until Cindy seemed to calm. She stood straighter and pulled away far enough to wipe a hand across her eyes. Still concerned, Claire guided her to sit again on the couch.
"Here. Just sit for a minute." She found her pack of tissues and handed it to the woman. "Feel a little better?"
Cindy nodded. She knew the conversation was just beginning, and Claire would want answers to new questions, but at least the boiling knot of tension had cooled and she could breathe a little deeper.
Claire waited until the reporter looked up at her with a small smile. "You okay now?"
"Yeah. Thanks." She sniffed one last time and wiped her nose. "I suppose you want to know what that was all about."
"Well, yes. It would be nice to know what prompted that outburst." She put a hand on her arm. "Should I call Lindsay or Jill in on this?"
"Oh, God, no. Please." Cindy took a deep breath and coughed. "I don't think I could face either of them right now." She turned to her friend. "Claire, please. You can't repeat this to anyone. I'm serious. Please."
"Cin--"
"Especially not Lindsay. She'd flip, and I -- she wouldn't believe me, she'd think I'm crazy, and I'm not, Claire, I swear I'm not."
"Okay." Claire nodded, not wanting to upset her friend any further. "All right. How about this? I won't tell Lindsay or Jill until I think it's absolutely necessary. And then, I'll only tell them after I've warned you and given you the chance to tell them yourself. Okay?"
Knowing she wouldn't get a better deal than that, Cindy sighed and nodded. "Fine. But you need to give me at least until tomorrow." She was hoping Drake would call before that and she could simply sweep the situation under the rug.
"I think I can wait at least that long." Claire nodded. "Now. Ready to tell me what's happening? One minute we're talking about you and Lindsay and how happy the two of you are, and then you're --"
"Foaming at the mouth?"
"Raving is more like it."
Cindy laughed, but nodded. "I -- don't know where to start, exactly."
"The beginning is always a good place."
"Right. The beginning." She frowned. "That would actually be a few years ago. When I first got here."
"Here?"
"Here as in San Francisco. I went to school in Michigan."
"I forgot that."
"Yeah, I was a Wolverine."
"It suits you."
The reporter made a face at that. "Anyway, when I got here after college I didn't know a lot of people. But I met this woman at the Chronicle and she introduced me to a group. I hung out with them for a while; not much else to do when you don't know anyone in town, really."
"Good friends, or just -- friends?"
"Acquaintances. I couldn't have had a personal talk with any of them. If it was serious, they'd either blow it off or use the information to their advantage later. It wasn't always -- pleasant."
"I wish we all could have met sooner."
Cindy smiled at her friend. "Me, too." She sighed and turned to Claire.
"What I'm about to tell you is pretty unbelievable. I'm aware of that. But it's absolutely true, I swear."
"All right. I think I'm ready for anything."
The reporter laughed, but it held no humor. "You're not ready for this, Claire. I guarantee it."
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