“Your employee. Why is it, then, that I get the sense you’d be happy to rip me apart if I proved to be a threat to her?”
Mick dug deep for patience and some measure of civility. “She is alone in this city. No family. Few friends. Same as most of my other employees. We make our own family, Agent Hayden. I protect what’s mine.”
She tipped her head, curiosity plainly etched on her face. “You speak of them as Pack.”
“Family is more than blood and race,” he replied.
Something like approval flashed in her eyes. What the hell was going on?
“You can stand down, Mr. Guidry. I’m not here in my professional capacity. And while I came here with every intention of dragging Liza away whether she likes it or not, it isn’t for the reasons you seem to think.” She blew out a long breath and seemed to exhale some of the stiffness with it. “Liza is my sister.”
“Sister?” Mick repeated. “But she’s . . . ”
“Human, yes. We share a mother. She has a propensity for getting into trouble in our world, which, as you are well aware, she isn’t supposed to know about.”
Studying Sophie, he could see some subtle similarities. The similar soft mouth. Same diminutive stature. Maybe the same shape to the face. But the same could be said of many women, and Liza had never mentioned a sister. Was this some kind of trick? Some means of sniffing out his affiliation with the Underground?
“Is Liza in some kinda trouble?” asked Mick, his mind and body shifting to deal with a different kind of threat.
Her cell phone rang and she held up a finger in a just a second motion as she checked the caller ID before shoving it back into her pocket. “Sorry. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me. She hasn’t come in tonight?”
“No. Nobody’s heard from her.”
She leaned back against his desk, crossing her arms. “I’ve been trying to reach her all day, but I figured she was just avoiding my calls. When was the last time you saw her?”
“Last night. Or this mornin’, dependin’ on how you look at it. Several of the girls live within walkin’ distance, so me and a couple of the boys rotate to make sure all our girls get home safe. I walked her home at two, after clean up,” he explained. “I didn’t sense anything that set off my radar. We realized she wasn’t in about an hour and a half ago. Been tryin’ to get her ever since.” Why didn’t I send somebody to check on her sooner? The gnawing sensation in his gut was rising. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.
“Do you remember anybody hassling her at all last night? Watching her? Anybody who shows up regularly and sits in her section?”
Mick sifted through his memories of the last few weeks, but they were hazy, all running together. “I’d have remembered anybody givin’ her grief. I don’t tolerate mistreatment of my people. As for regulars, we’ve got a lot of ’em. We’re a neighborhood place, so we’ve got a lot of the same folks in several times a week. She’s an attractive woman, so a lotta men watch her. But none of ’em ever made any kinda pass at her, as far as I know. It’s somethin’ I generally discourage.”
“Is she seeing anybody?”
“Not that I know of. She doesn’t talk about her personal life or family overmuch.”
“At least she followed one rule,” Sophie muttered. She shoved away from the desk and dug in a jacket pocket. "Look, I’ll leave my card. Call if you hear from her. I’m going to check out her apartment.”
“Keep it,” said Mick. “I’m comin’ with you.”
Her eyes met his. “This is not your problem, Mr. Guidry. And in case you hadn’t noticed, you’ve got a full house out there.”
“Mick. And my people can handle it. I told you. I protect what’s mine.”
~*~
Liza lived a few blocks from Le Loup Garou, in a second story, walk-up apartment above a bakery about a block off South Carrollton Avenue. The lower level was dark, but, despite the rain, Sophie could still smell a faint scent of fresh baked bread as they climbed the stairs. Her stomach grumbled again, reminding her that she still hadn’t eaten. In her pocket, her cell vibrated. Her handler calling again, no doubt. Well Leif was just going to have to wait for an explanation as to why she’d dumped a personal leave form on his desk before business hours this morning.
All thoughts of food and her handler vanished, as she plowed straight into Mick’s rigid back. He’d paused a few feet from the top of the stairs, nose lifted. She picked up his low growl, even over the drumming of the rain.
Not pausing to ask why, Sophie pulled her gun and switched off the safety.
Mick moved slowly then, up to the landing, where he laid his ear against the door panel. A few moments later he motioned her back and took aim. The ancient door casing gave way easily under the snap of his kick, the door flying open and banging back into the wall.
Mick was through it in an instant, and Sophie was right behind, gun held braced and at the ready. He skidded to a stop so fast, she almost ran into him again.
“Mon Dieu,” he breathed.
The apartment was ransacked, furniture overturned, pictures and knickknacks broken.