Wild Fire
Page 96
“That alone speaks to who is the dominant,” Rio said. “He would have taken her in her heat, not allowing Suma access to her, to insure the child was his. She’s right, Conner, it was Ottila, not Suma, who was calling the shots.”
“And we know they aren’t entirely loyal to Imelda,” Conner added. “Or they would have told her Philip Sobre was recording their conversations. My guess is, they pushed Sobre to do it. Ottila probably had Suma approach Sobre and lay out a plan. They would pretend to work for Imelda, but really be working for him. They most likely suggested he tape the conversations, probably even told him how. Sobre isn’t the brightest man on the planet.”
“Wasn’t,” Rio corrected. “Did you see the newspaper this morning?”
Isabeau snuck a quick look at Conner from under her lashes. They hadn’t looked at a newspaper or done much else other than enjoy each other’s body. She had lost count of the times he woke her and still, when the morning light crept into the room, he’d already be moving inside her. She wasn’t certain she could walk normally and definitely was a little sore.
“Philip Sobre was found murdered. He was hanging in a closet with his entrails wrapped around his cut throat. His tongue had been pulled through the opening in the traditional ‘Colombian necktie.’ He had obviously been tortured extensively. The party was mentioned, but the guests were all seen leaving, and Philip waved good- bye from the door, kissing the ladies, even Imelda on both cheeks,” Rio said. “They have video surveillance to prove it.”
Isabeau pressed a hand to her stomach. “That’s just sick. Did Imelda do that?”
“According to the papers, she was devastated. Philip Sobre was a former lover and a wonderful, close friend. She’ll miss him terribly and will not stop hunting his killer. She looked right into the camera when she uttered that lie with such complete sincerity. She had no comment on the findings in his private garden,” Rio added.
Isabeau inhaled sharply. “What did they find?”
“Bodies. More than thirty so far, both female and male. There is speculation that Philip Sobre could be Panama’s biggest serial killer in the history of the country,” Rio told her.
“I believe there’s only been one or two that have ever been acknowledged or known about,” Conner said. “This will be extremely uncomfortable for law enforcement, especially as so many officials knew him.”
“What a mess. Imelda just couldn’t wait,” Rio said. “My guess is, she took that place apart hunting for those tapes. By now all evidence against her is destroyed.”
Isabeau grew hot and uncomfortable, her mouth aching as if someone had punched her. Even her teeth hurt. The conversation made her sick.
“Maybe,” Conner said, “but if Ottila was the one who put the idea of taping the conversations in Sobre’s head in the first place, there’s a good chance he has them stashed somewhere. And if he was the one who searched the house, he’d have no reason to find them. Imelda has no idea he isn’t loyal to her.”
“Why am I his first priority?” Isabeau asked. “Isn’t money his true motivator?” Unexpected tears welled up and she had to blink them away rapidly.
“An unmated leopard has trouble resisting a female in the throes of the Han Vol Dan. I think the instinct to mate overcomes all good sense. You introduced a chemical into his bloodstream. It will be like a building fever in his body. He’ll have to come for you,” Rio said.
Her breath caught in her lungs. Her gaze jumped to Conner for confirmation. “Is that what I did to you?” She reached up and brushed the pad of her finger along the groove in his cheek. “When I did this?”
Conner caught her fingers and brought them to his heart. “Yes. But that has nothing to do with my falling in love with you. I was already far gone before you took a swipe at me.”
“Do claws always release the chemical?” A wave of heat rushed over her, leaving her sweating. Maybe she was running a fever from the claw marks on her arm in spite of the shot.
He shook his head. “It’s usually deliberate. Your cat probably marked me because of a combination of things. Your anger, which was righteous by the way, we’re mates, and we had fallen in love.”
“And Ottila?” She couldn’t keep humiliation and pain from her voice.
“She’s in heat, emerging. She’s not in control of herself any more than you’re in control of her. It’s a learning process. Most of our women have the advantage of parents teaching them how to deal with their cat instincts from the time they’re little. You didn’t even know you were cat.” He brought her fingers to his mouth and scraped back and forth with his teeth, his gaze locked with hers. “Don’t worry about it, Isabeau. I can handle Ottila.”
She wasn’t sure. Conner seemed invincible. Confident. Experienced. But there was something very frightening about Ottila. Her heart pounded at that thought of him hunting Conner—and her. She couldn’t seem to stand still, her legs restless, her nerves jumpy.
She touched her tongue to her bottom lip and then nodded, changing the subject. “Mary is going to help me with the wedding preparations. She’s making calls to some friends of hers right now and before you protest—and she knew you would—she said to remind you, she’s known these people for over twenty years.”
Conner bit back his protest, seeing the happiness in Isabeau’s eyes. He glanced at Rio over her head. Rio smiled at him and shrugged. It was her wedding day and they were just going to have to be vigilant.
“And we know they aren’t entirely loyal to Imelda,” Conner added. “Or they would have told her Philip Sobre was recording their conversations. My guess is, they pushed Sobre to do it. Ottila probably had Suma approach Sobre and lay out a plan. They would pretend to work for Imelda, but really be working for him. They most likely suggested he tape the conversations, probably even told him how. Sobre isn’t the brightest man on the planet.”
“Wasn’t,” Rio corrected. “Did you see the newspaper this morning?”
Isabeau snuck a quick look at Conner from under her lashes. They hadn’t looked at a newspaper or done much else other than enjoy each other’s body. She had lost count of the times he woke her and still, when the morning light crept into the room, he’d already be moving inside her. She wasn’t certain she could walk normally and definitely was a little sore.
“Philip Sobre was found murdered. He was hanging in a closet with his entrails wrapped around his cut throat. His tongue had been pulled through the opening in the traditional ‘Colombian necktie.’ He had obviously been tortured extensively. The party was mentioned, but the guests were all seen leaving, and Philip waved good- bye from the door, kissing the ladies, even Imelda on both cheeks,” Rio said. “They have video surveillance to prove it.”
Isabeau pressed a hand to her stomach. “That’s just sick. Did Imelda do that?”
“According to the papers, she was devastated. Philip Sobre was a former lover and a wonderful, close friend. She’ll miss him terribly and will not stop hunting his killer. She looked right into the camera when she uttered that lie with such complete sincerity. She had no comment on the findings in his private garden,” Rio added.
Isabeau inhaled sharply. “What did they find?”
“Bodies. More than thirty so far, both female and male. There is speculation that Philip Sobre could be Panama’s biggest serial killer in the history of the country,” Rio told her.
“I believe there’s only been one or two that have ever been acknowledged or known about,” Conner said. “This will be extremely uncomfortable for law enforcement, especially as so many officials knew him.”
“What a mess. Imelda just couldn’t wait,” Rio said. “My guess is, she took that place apart hunting for those tapes. By now all evidence against her is destroyed.”
Isabeau grew hot and uncomfortable, her mouth aching as if someone had punched her. Even her teeth hurt. The conversation made her sick.
“Maybe,” Conner said, “but if Ottila was the one who put the idea of taping the conversations in Sobre’s head in the first place, there’s a good chance he has them stashed somewhere. And if he was the one who searched the house, he’d have no reason to find them. Imelda has no idea he isn’t loyal to her.”
“Why am I his first priority?” Isabeau asked. “Isn’t money his true motivator?” Unexpected tears welled up and she had to blink them away rapidly.
“An unmated leopard has trouble resisting a female in the throes of the Han Vol Dan. I think the instinct to mate overcomes all good sense. You introduced a chemical into his bloodstream. It will be like a building fever in his body. He’ll have to come for you,” Rio said.
Her breath caught in her lungs. Her gaze jumped to Conner for confirmation. “Is that what I did to you?” She reached up and brushed the pad of her finger along the groove in his cheek. “When I did this?”
Conner caught her fingers and brought them to his heart. “Yes. But that has nothing to do with my falling in love with you. I was already far gone before you took a swipe at me.”
“Do claws always release the chemical?” A wave of heat rushed over her, leaving her sweating. Maybe she was running a fever from the claw marks on her arm in spite of the shot.
He shook his head. “It’s usually deliberate. Your cat probably marked me because of a combination of things. Your anger, which was righteous by the way, we’re mates, and we had fallen in love.”
“And Ottila?” She couldn’t keep humiliation and pain from her voice.
“She’s in heat, emerging. She’s not in control of herself any more than you’re in control of her. It’s a learning process. Most of our women have the advantage of parents teaching them how to deal with their cat instincts from the time they’re little. You didn’t even know you were cat.” He brought her fingers to his mouth and scraped back and forth with his teeth, his gaze locked with hers. “Don’t worry about it, Isabeau. I can handle Ottila.”
She wasn’t sure. Conner seemed invincible. Confident. Experienced. But there was something very frightening about Ottila. Her heart pounded at that thought of him hunting Conner—and her. She couldn’t seem to stand still, her legs restless, her nerves jumpy.
She touched her tongue to her bottom lip and then nodded, changing the subject. “Mary is going to help me with the wedding preparations. She’s making calls to some friends of hers right now and before you protest—and she knew you would—she said to remind you, she’s known these people for over twenty years.”
Conner bit back his protest, seeing the happiness in Isabeau’s eyes. He glanced at Rio over her head. Rio smiled at him and shrugged. It was her wedding day and they were just going to have to be vigilant.
