Stars & Stripes

“It smells like death in here.”



Annie took his arm and smiled. “I’m sure that’s just the bleach they use on their habitats. Come on.”



She dragged him over the threshold, and Zane followed with Mark, trying not to laugh.



A woman in khaki pants and a “Save the Kitties” T-shirt met them in the lobby and shook their hands.



“You must be the ones who called earlier. I’m Tish.”



Ty offered his left hand to shake, and when she took it, she immediately gripped it with both hands and pulled it to her face to look closer.



Ty stumbled and watched her with wide eyes, too dumbstruck to say or do anything.



“What was this, puma concolor?” she asked as she examined the scar on his hand.



“What?”



“A mountain lion? A cougar?”



“Uh.”



“This is stunning. Cougars are more closely linked to smaller felines than to large jungle cats, most people don’t realize that,” Tish rambled as she turned Ty’s hand over and over to look at the faded, jagged scars.



Zane often found his own fingers tracing the tooth marks and surgery scars on Ty’s hand when they were lying in bed. The pattern was hypnotic, in a way, and one more reminder that Ty was a fighter of the highest order. The only reason he’d lived through that attack was because he was too stubborn to die.



“They don’t usually attack humans. Were you feeding her at the time?” Tish asked.



“I was . . . trying not to,” Ty said. He gaped at Zane, silently asking him to do something.



Zane patted his shoulder. “We think he got too close to her babies or she was defending her territory.”



“Yeah, or he just wasn’t hungry cause he’d already eaten a dude right before me.”



Tish practically bounced. “This is just awesome, we don’t see many bite marks that nicely preserved. I mean, not on living things. You were lucky she was just playing with you.”



“You were actually bitten by a cougar?” Mark asked.



Ty grunted, and Zane squeezed his shoulder to keep him from saying anything more.



Tish let his hand go and smiled. “Anyway! How can we help you? Were you here for a tour? It’s a little unorthodox on a weekday on such short notice, but it can be arranged, especially for neighbors who’ve been so kind to us.”



Zane smiled and shook his head as he pulled out his badge and showed it to her. Ty did the same, although more grudgingly. “Actually, we’re here in an official capacity. We were wondering if you’ve had any break-ins. Any animals go missing recently?”



Her eyes widened as she looked at the badges, and she nodded. “We have. Two residents are unaccounted for. Have you found them? We’ve been worried sick about them.”



“I’m sorry, no. Were they reported?”



“Oh, of course. We reported them to the local animal registration agency and local law enforcement, as per the state statute—”



“Okay,” Ty interrupted. “How do you know they’re missing?”



“Well, they’re not in their enclosures anymore.”



“That’s . . . really?” Ty asked.



“What my partner means is, um . . . do you tag them in any way? So you can track them?”



“No, the residents are never intended to be off the property. Tagging them would be costly, traumatic, and redundant.”



“So, they’re in cages, you said? How does a lion or tiger get out of its cage?” Ty asked.



“We call them habitats or enclosures. Each one has a double gate, where we can lock the cat in one section and clean the other safely. We believe one of the interns may have improperly latched the gates after cleaning or feeding, but . . . we take such precautions, I just don’t see how that could have happened. I mean, both gates?”



Ty and Zane shared a look. It was looking more like Ty’s theory might be correct. Ty’s eyes strayed past Zane to the wall behind him, and he began to drift toward it to look at a large, colorful map of the preserve grounds.



“The preserve has a perimeter fence?”



“It does. A backup measure for this very thing. We searched for days, but we have over one-hundred acres. I’m sure the tigers are still on grounds; we simply don’t have the manpower for a concerted search. We’re still looking.”



“Ma’am, we don’t believe that to be the case,” Zane said.



“I don’t understand.”



“A week ago, the owner of the C and G, the ranch that borders the preserve, was shot just a mile or two from one of your boundaries.”



“Oh, dear!”



“We think he witnessed a catnapping.” Ty managed to say that with a straight face. Zane had to fight back a snicker.



“You think someone came in and stole our cats?”



“Have you found any perimeter breaches?” Ty asked.



“No.” Tish brought a hand to her neck. “Really, we just thought they’d come home once they got hungry. We’ve all been on the alert.”



“Yeah, ’cause tigers are completely helpless when they want food,” Ty muttered as he looked back at the map.



“How tight is your security?” Zane asked.



“Well . . . our security is more for the safety and containment of the animals, not to keep people out. The border fences are electrified. Each habitat has a lock on it that requires a key.”



“What about this building?”



“A standard alarm system.”



“Are there any night guards? Caretakers for the animals?”



“There are six to eight interns on staff throughout the year. They all stay in the dormitory area. I can show you. Someone took the cats, didn’t they? To sell them? Oh my God.” Tish clapped her hands to her face, looking so distraught that Zane wished he had better news for her.



Annie patted her shoulder. “If anyone can find them, it’s my brother.”



Zane’s breath caught at the flow of surprise and warmth filtering through him. Ty brushed his elbow, a discreet showing of pride or support.



“Can you tell us what species are missing?” Ty asked.



“Of course.” Tish swiped a hand over her forehead. “They were two white Bengal tigers.”



“Bengal tigers?” Ty repeated.



“Yes. A male and female. Hansel and Gretel.”



Ty leaned in to whisper to Zane. “Those are the big-ass ones, Zane.”



Zane nodded.



“Actually, the Siberian tiger is bigger,” Tish said, babbling faster and wringing her hands. “Most people think white tigers are Siberians, but they’re usually a mixture of the two. The white gene comes from the Bengal, but they do tend to grow bigger than the orange ones.”



“So, very large tigers,” Zane said. Tish nodded and smiled weakly.



“I fucking hate Texas,” Ty hissed in Zane’s ear before turning back to Tish with a charming, fake smile.



Tish led them through the grounds, between large holding pens filled with every imaginable species of big cat and the trappings of keeping them healthy and happy. There were over forty habitats. Most were at least fifty feet square, with soaring cages that went over twenty feet high. They had inside and outside areas, with platforms as high as thirteen feet up, built around trees and hills. There were plastic playhouses and igloos, fake ponds with burbling waterfalls, tires on the ground and hanging from the trees, and debris that had probably once been rubber toys.



Leopards, cheetahs, lynx, tigers, cougars, bobcats, servals, and lions occupied the habitats, along with one small raccoon-like creature that lay curled protectively inside a hollow log, as if it smelled the fact that it was the only omnivore in the place.



Zane kept an eye on Ty as they moved through the facility. He felt sorry for his partner, sort of, but he was also amused. Ty seemed to have developed an extra nervous twitch the closer they got to the animals. Not that Zane could blame him.



When they passed a mountain lion named Duke, Ty skirted around the cage, putting Mark between the chain link and him. He didn’t look at the cat, and Zane grew concerned when he saw Ty shifting his weight from side to side, like he might be ready to bolt. His fingers constantly played with his USMC signet ring, and several times Zane saw his hand drift toward the gun in his holster. Zane frowned. Maybe he’d pushed too far, forcing Ty to come with them. He put his arm around Ty’s shoulders and squeezed.



“I’m sorry I made you come.”



Ty took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m okay.”



They followed Tish as she told them about each occupant in loving detail. Each cat had a tragic beginning, and Zane found himself lingering over the plaques that displayed their names and how they’d been rescued.



They walked past a pair of large jaguars up a tree, one black, one spotted. Green eyes tracked them from on high as sinuous tails flicked through the air.



Zane was beginning to feel more and more sympathy for Ty as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.



They continued on, through winding pathways and up shady hills until they topped out on a plateau. The habitats were larger here, and further back sat sheds that housed equipment. The first enclosure they came upon on the plateau held a spectacular creature, one of the most beautiful Zane had ever seen up close: a white tiger.



“Baihu is a cross between a Bengal and a Siberian,” Trish said, slowing as they crossed in front of the new enclosure. “White tigers are prized among collectors, but they’re not at all rare like people think. Most are inbred for the recessive white gene and have certain health issues. If you look closely, you’ll see that Baihu is cross-eyed. And I must warn you, he’s quite aggressive, so when you pass by you may want to give him a wide berth.”



Ty muttered under his breath as they walked between Baihu’s fence and the fence of a small lynx named Zelda. Zane watched him closely, so focused on Ty that he was only dimly aware of a movement to his side. By the time he was able to turn his head, all he could see was the massive white tiger rushing at them, teeth bared. It leaped, hitting the fence with a growl. The chain rattled. Teeth gnashed at the chain link and claws hooked through it as the weight of the tiger’s massive body swung the fence back and forth.



Annie screamed and ducked behind Mark, grabbing him as he flinched away. Zane stumbled back, throwing his arms up and ducking. The urge to flee was instinctive, even knowing the fence would protect them.



Tish was laughing, obviously accustomed to seeing that reaction when Baihu charged.



Zane sought out Ty as he tried to force his heart to settle. Ty stood several yards away, staring at the tiger as the animal clung to the chain link fence. He was covered in dirt like he had rolled away from the attack, and he had his gun in his hand.



“Ty,” Zane yelled, “don’t shoot the tiger!”



“He started it.” Ty continued to stare at the tiger, and the tiger at him.



Zane pointed at him in warning. If Ty went bonkers in this place, Zane was leaving him here.



Ty glared at him, but then handed over his weapon without Zane having to ask for it. Zane shoved it into his pocket.



“Way to leave the rest of us hanging, there, Grady,” Mark said as they moved on.



“Mark,” Annie hissed.



Ty grunted. “Guy with a gun, I’m your man. Big white tiger with teeth, it’s every steak for himself.”



Zane ran his hand down Ty’s back, trying to comfort him.



The next enclosure held two orange Bengal tigers roughhousing in a playground of ponds, tires, and large blue barrels.



“This is Barnum and Bailey,” Tish said, a hint of pride in her voice.



They gathered at the fence to look in, and Tish gave a short whistle. The two tigers looked up and started barreling toward them. These two weren’t attacking, however, but cavorting. They threw themselves against the fences, gnawing on the chain link, grunting and making sounds that seemed pretty happy to Zane’s ear.



“That noise they’re making is called a chuff,” Tish said. “Only tigers can make it; it’s sort of like their version of a purr. Barnum and Bailey are brothers. Inseparable. They came to us earlier this year. Barnum is the one with the limp ear. We rescued them from a—”



“Circus,” Ty said. Surprisingly, he stepped toward the fence, as if drawn toward the two animals.



“Yes! How did you know? They’ve been around people since they were young and they’re quite friendly. They love to roughhouse—just don’t let one of them get behind you or they’ll think you’re playing tag.” Tish put her hand out and let one of the tigers lick her fingers through the fence. “And you do not want to play tag with a tiger.”



Zane glanced at Annie and Mark, then met Ty’s eyes. Ty shook his head. There was no way they were getting him to stick his fingers in that fence. Annie stepped closer, though, putting a tentative hand out. The tigers grew still, watching her approach, and then sniffed at her cautiously. Bailey gave her fingers a nudge with his nose, but neither animal seemed thrilled by her.



She backed away. Mark took a hesitant step forward, and Barnum made a sound in the back of his throat that nearly triggered Zane’s most primal instinct to turn and run.



“Then again, maybe not,” Mark mumbled. He stepped behind Annie and hid there.



“Try it, Zane,” Annie whispered.



Zane reluctantly moved forward, holding his hand out. The tigers reacted much as they had to Annie, sniffing him and staring. Not the type of reaction that would inspire him to jump in there and wrestle with them.



Barnum began to stalk along the fence, toward where Ty was trying to hide.



“Oh God, why did I come here?” Ty whispered as he took a step back. The tiger leaned its heavy body against the fence, and the entire cage rattled with his weight. He rubbed his face against the chain link, looking at Ty as if inviting him to rub him.