True Nature (26 page)

Relief flooded her face as she let out a breath. “Thank God. I have bills, you know? The economy’s not so good.”

“You’re not going anywhere if I can help it,” Hunter replied. “But there are going to be changes.”

I raised an eyebrow. Changes in the firm should have been run by me, his partner, before he announced them to our staff.

“I’m letting Brad take over most of the active cases.” Hunter’s eyes were on me. “I’m taking some time away from everyday stuff here to consider…things.”

“Oh.” Darla darted an uncertain look between me and Hunter.

“It’s family stuff,” Hunter continued.

The silence in the room stretched to an uncomfortable level.

Again, Evan saved the day. “Darla, can you kind of show me ropes? Tell me where I can plug in my laptop, where the printer is, that kind of stuff.”

She practically popped out of her chair. “Just follow me.”

Evan was courteous enough to shut the door of the conference room as he exited behind her.

I struggled to control my fury as I faced Hunter. “Did you think not telling me about changes would make me more compliant?”

“I didn’t want to give you a chance to talk me out of it.”

“Partners usually talk things like this over. You and I usually talk everything over.”

“Jesus, Zoe. Do you really think I need to be handling cases right now? I can’t arrange my own thoughts in a straight line, much less do my best for a client in court.”

I had to give him credit. That made a lot of sense.

“I understand.” I squeezed my eyes shut and trying to shove down my resentment. “I know all of this is a nightmare. But if you had just told me instead of springing it at me. And in front of him, especially—”

“You’re going to have to get over this shit with Evan.”

My eyes snapped open. “Excuse me?”

“He’s not trying to take your place, Zoe. He’s doing his fucking job, something he’s been hardwired for from conception.”

Though I wanted to remind him that he had been having plenty of problems with Evan himself not more than 48 hours ago, I held back. “So what are you going to do with yourself if you’re not working?” I said instead. “Screw around with Mandy? Go into the city to lunch with your father and play financial tug of war with Michael Killin? Prowl the streets and try to draw him out?”

Hunter sat back. “For starters, I thought I might try the housecat trick to see if we can help Kelly.”

That took the wind out of my sails.

“I don’t know why I hesitated to say yes to your plan with Kelly the other night,” he continued. “It’s just that shifting has always been something I did for me, because I could. It’s new to think about my abilities having another purpose, of using my talent, so to speak, to help someone.”

I touched his arm. “I’ve felt so odd since I started having these visions, Hunter. Instead of making things clearer, they’ve made me unsure of myself and of you. I thought you might be turning your back on our practice.”

“Even if I weren’t a divorce attorney any longer, I wouldn’t turn my back on you.”

I was only partially reassured, and Hunter saw that in my face.

“I’m not saying I’m cutting out of here.” He grinned. “You know how much I’ve enjoyed the fringe benefits of my work.”

Thinking of the parade of women through this office in the past three years, I nodded. “Unfortunately, yes, I know that.”

“But the situation we’re in has me messed up.” He frowned. “I’m questioning a lot of assumptions I had made.”

“About what?”

“For starters, about my father and his feelings for Grandda.”

“It was kind of hard for me to hold onto the belief that your father is a cold, heartless bastard after listening to his eulogy yesterday.”

“Exactly,” Hunter murmured. “I’m also realizing that being a shifter isn’t just…extra.”

I cocked my head at him, puzzled.

“It’s who I am.” He looked at her intently. “Before I was Hunter and a shifter. I thought Grandda was a big shot attorney and environmentalist and businessman and a shifter. Now I realize that we’re—I’m—a shifter. We’re the MacRaes first. Do you know what I’m saying?”

I wasn’t entirely sure.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about my true nature, about who I really am or what I want to do when I grow up.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing with this business.”

Hunter paused and took a sip of coffee. He was struggling. “I’m not sure, Zoe.”

I swallowed hard. What I did day-in and day-out was vitally important to me. No, I didn’t really like chasing cheating wives or insurance scammers, but I enjoyed helping people like Kinley and Lizzie find answers they needed. Unlike Hunter, who seemed to be searching for his identity, I’d known for a long time I was meant to solve puzzles.

What if I couldn’t do that with Hunter?

“I wish everything could be the way it was just a week ago.”

“I’m glad I know everything now. I want to meet the rest of the shifters in the family, too. I want to know what I’m supposed to do since everyone expects me to take Grandda’s place.”

“You don’t have to make any decisions right this minute. Let’s take everything day to day.”

“You’re right about that. Other family members will be contacting me soon. Evan told me last night that I should wait on them, as a show of respect.”

“So there are shifter protocols to follow?” I asked, bemused.

“Hundreds and hundreds of years of tradition,” he replied, then brightened. “But right now I want to work with you on some of your cases.”

“Like the Lizzie Howerton case?”

“I know to trust your gut. You believe she has a sister, so let’s find her.”

“I was just going to start searching for former employees of the hospital where Lizzie was born.” I told him what Bernie said about Dr. Hayden.

“Send me your files,” Hunter said. “I’ve got some detail work to do before we meet with Brad this afternoon. But after that, I’ll look for Lizzie’s twin. Maybe Evan would have some ideas, too.”

I tried but failed to stop my grimace of dismay. I cut Hunter off before he could berate me. “I know, I know, I have to accept him.”

“You could bill Lizzie for the time he spends on the case,” Hunter suggested.

I laughed. “Here you are, a newly minted gazillionaire, and you’re thinking about billable hours.”

“Old habits die hard. Maybe Grandda knew what he was doing when he set me free for a few years.”

“Yes, you were free to build a business while living in a luxury condo and drawing the interest off a trust fund,” I retorted dryly.

Hunter laughed, and just like that, we were back on familiar footing with each other.

I took his hand. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

He got up and kissed me on the forehead. “Better than that.”

“I’ll call Lydia to set up a visit with Kelly. Maybe tonight or tomorrow?”

He agreed and walked out of the room, whistling.

I tried, but I couldn’t quite match his cheeriness as I went to my desk. I was uneasy and worried. Change wasn’t easy for me. Change regarding Hunter was unthinkable.

The thought brought me up short. My deep connection to Hunter was truly my life’s one constant. My father was my only family, and we rarely even spoke. Hunter was my center—friend, family, business partner—everything.

I remembered when one of my many stepmothers decided the way to stay married to my father was to try to get to know me. Yeah, she wasn’t too bright. But I was about twenty and devastated after my break up with the latest in a string of young men that I claimed wouldn’t allow me to be myself. As I recalled the problem was the amount of time I spent with Hunter. Stepmother Alice told me, on the pretext of giving me advice, that I used my relationship Hunter as an excuse not to develop intimacy with others.

I didn’t like admitting that Alice had been on target. But if I were truthful, I had pretty much ruined every romantic relationship I had ever had because of something with Hunter.

The episode with Mike last week was a scalding reminder of that.

Alice had also said that Hunter used me in the same way. As long as he had me for emotional support, why did he need anyone else?

But if Hunter and I were so bad for each other, why were we bound together so deeply? Why had his grandfather come to me, in death, to tell me to develop my second sense to help him? Why had his grandmother told me she was entrusting me with Hunter’s life?

Sighing, I buried my head in my hands for a moment. Then I put my troubled thoughts aside and turned to the computer. I was going to email Lizzie’s file to both Hunter and Evan. While I was waiting for Hunter to find himself and for my own future to come into focus, I would focus on the solvable puzzles in my life—Lizzie’s sister and Kelly’s silence.

Chapter 21

“I need to be a cat,” Hunter said to Evan as they walked into the apartment Monday night.

“Feel free.” Evan shrugged out of his coat.

“I mean I need to change and run and do the stuff that will work the bloody kinks out of my brain.”

“Is that typically how you unwind from a day at work?”

“Unwinding also often includes a hot blonde or brunette or redhead.” Unbidden, Cyn’s face popped into his head.

Evan gave him that peculiar look that meant he was reading Hunter’s mind. “I’m not sure who Cyn is. I’ve put out some feelers about her, but until we know—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hunter glanced down at the cell in his hand. He didn’t have to follow Evan’s suggestion. He had saved Cyn’s phone number the afternoon they met. He wasn’t sure why he was reluctant to contact her.

If he needed sex, he should call Mandy. She had texted that Charlie was out of town and she hoped for a visit.

That wasn’t what he wanted. Soon, restlessness had him prowling from one room to another. Evan was busy on his phone and laptop gathering reports from the teams. Today had been very, very quiet. Hunter wondered what the Killins were waiting for.

He, Zoe, and Darla spent the better part of the afternoon with Brad, going over cases. The meeting had extended into the dinner hour, but had paid off. Brad was ready to handle the current caseload. Zoe was finished with all outstanding investigations on their divorce cases and her insurance business. She was free to devote herself to Lizzie Howerton.

It turned out that getting Evan involved in the research for that case had been a good idea. He had found a number of former employees of the Hayden Clinic who were still in the area. After several phone calls, he’d talked to Carl Kowalski, a radiologic technician, who now worked at East Orange General Hospital. He had no qualms about discussing the clinic or its doctors.

Evan said Kowalski had laughed and said, “what an asshole” in reference to Dr. Hayden and “raving ambitious bitch” about Mrs. Hayden. While he couldn’t remember anything specific about the babies born at the clinic during the months surrounding Lizzie’s birth, he had been there and supplied names of some other staff, including doctors.

Much of Kowalski’s information confirmed what Bernie said.

Dr. Hayden liked having young doctors on staff. He picked male doctors most of the time, but Hayden was old school. He enjoyed dominating nurses and browbeating young doctors.

According to Kowalski, most people thought Hayden was generous in giving these OB/GYNs a start, but none of the doctors lasted long. Kowalski speculated that the lack of stability in staff was one of the reasons the facilities didn’t survive Hayden’s passing.

“Apparently, Hayden was the clinic,” Evan reported. “His widow took the money they made and bought a new life.”

So Zoe had names of several staff members she was going to track down tomorrow. Hunter would help, but he also had plans to check some of the properties his grandfather had left him, a few in Jersey City. According to a list emailed to him this morning from the attorney, there were several more than he’d expected.

Tomorrow afternoon, he and Zoe were going to see Kelly.

Hunter rolled his shoulders. If he was going to be a tame kitty tomorrow, he needed to be a bit more ferocious tonight. He went back to Evan, who was patiently inputting information into his laptop.

“I’m going to break through a door if I can’t get out of here,” Hunter told him. “Let’s go to the park.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m the one who will be dangerous soon,” Hunter snapped.

Evan studied him then stood. “The city makes me a little claustrophobic, too. You’ll be careful? I need to stick close by. I’ll call in some others to meet us there.”

“Sure, sure,” Hunter agreed, heading to his room to change into running attire. “Tell them to meet us at the parking lot at High Mountain Park Preserve.”

Though signs were posted warning against being there after dark that had never stopped Hunter.

“You have to stay in my sight,” Evan warned him as they walked to the head of the trail. The moon was a sliver in the sky. Hunter breathed in the scent of fir, damp earth, and wildness. He sensed rather than saw a small animal scurry through the underbrush. But he didn’t smell or feel the chimera here.

“It’s safe,” Evan said, echoing the shifter’s thoughts.

Hunter removed his shoes and stuffed his socks inside. Then he plunged forward. Not breaking his promise about getting out of sight, he stuck to the path, but picked up speed. He had been thinking about what Nana told him about changing while he was still in his clothes. It was magic, she had told him. It was in him.

So Hunter focused hard. He pictured himself as a bobcat. He felt his muscles tighten, his bones change. Something ripped. Then he was a cat. He cried out in freedom and excitement as he leapt down the path bordered by sparse winter foliage.

“Hold up,” Evan warned. Hunter wanted to resist, to stretch out his legs as he could only in feline form. But he had to set a leisurely run, so the human could keep up with him.

Evan kept a short distance behind, his flashlight bobbing over the forested landscape, but Hunter didn’t need the light to see. He was hyper-aware of the air around him. This was what he needed after a few days of being human. It wasn’t enough, he thought, understanding why his grandfather needed the estate in the Adirondacks. It was true that a shifter could change anywhere, but in order to be free, he needed to be able to run wild occasionally.