Page 32 of Trees Take the Long View

"I wouldn't go that far, but I've been around long enough to think it's not worth the effort in a town we don't know, to sic the cops on someone when it probably won't even stick. Not unless we have a damned good reason for pissing him off and irritating the local cops, and we haven't."

Personally I thought any reason to irritate that jerk or the cops was a good reason, but I didn't argue. I may have been feeling slightly grumpy, and wishing to ruin someone else's day.

"Just one more stop, and we'll finish up for the day, I promise. It would be nice if we could find the tiger shifter and make certain he's okay, but even just confirming that yes, all three sales involved the same tiger and he's a shifter would be a help. If that's all we accomplish, it's not the end of the world. We've done a preliminary assessment."

I could hear the disappointment in his voice, though. He liked being the troubleshooter, the guy who fixed problems and solved things and went off on important missions, not just the guy who did assessments and then passed things off to someone else.

"Well, I'd rather not try to track him," I said. "Even though this is the latest, and probably has the clearest trail of any, the tiger is bound to have gotten into a vehicle at some point, and I don't think I want to shift into a wolf in front of one of these creeps, and put on a show tracking. I couldn't follow an old scent without shifting, either, so don't suggest it."

"I wasn't going to suggest anything," said Dean. "You've done plenty already."

The tension crackled between us. Why did it feel like we were fighting about something, even if we were actually agreeing about everything?

#

We were off to a better start, at least. This place didn't give off the creepy vibes of a party animal or the strangled feeling of regimented greenery and confined animals. It was still huge, though: more than any one person should ever conceivably own, if you ask me. But looking across the rolling lawns and fancy landscaping—trees, flowers, shrubs, and winding stone paths, with a few water features and statues thrown in—I couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief, when comparing it to the other two places. I realized I'd been dreading that it would be the worst one yet.

"Of course I'll show you," said the guy who owned this place, Amos Martins. He didn't answer the door himself, but he didn't make us wait to see him, either. He had pleasant, calm features and graying hair he had decided not to dye. He wasn'tthatold, I suppose, just old compared to me and Dean: at least sixty. A little older than my dad, in other words.

He had that sort of trim, sleek, energetic older guy thing about him that made him seem like maybe he'd outlive us all. He was no taller than me and he had alert grayish eyes.

I'd meant to be in a bad mood, but his eyes were too interesting and his property was too pleasant to stay grumpy or withdrawn. He led us on a short impromptu tour, on the way to "the tiger house," as he called it. I was interested to see what that meant.

We walked along the shaded stone pathways I got the feeling he was talking to me a bit more than to Dean, when he pointed out various features. Was I looking particularly sympathetic or something?

"This is a Japanese raisin tree," he said, touching my elbow to capture my wandering attention. He looked inquiringly into my face again, as if he was asking something. I stared back, wondering just what it was. And what did he want me to say?

"Um, I've never seen one before," I managed.

Dean cleared his throat. He looked a bit irritated for some reason. We walked on.

As soon as we got there, I had a sinking feeling. The tiger house was a grand sort of bath house that had been converted to accommodate big creatures. It was extremely spacious and roomy inside, like a small house with a ton more glass and windows and skylights. One section had been equipped with extremely thick glass walls and reinforced doors to close it off. In there were a sleeping area and food bowls for a large creature of some sort.

"I was always planning to get a tiger. I've been converting this place for years," he informed us. "Then when the opportunity to get a white tiger popped up, it was too good to miss. I suppose it was too good to be true." He was silent a moment as we stared around.

"The idea was that the tiger could be out and about all day, and then locked in at night?" said Dean.

"Yes, and I meant to let it be out on the grounds quite a bit, as well, once we'd gotten big enough fencing installed. I was going to start with a small tiger and train it, but a full-grown white tiger was simply irresistible."

He looked at me again, and I stared back, uncomprehending.

I glanced at Dean for a little help. How was I supposed to take a surreptitious sniff and confirm what I'd already guessed, if he didn't take the man's attention off me for a little while?

Dean asked him a question, and I took the opportunity to ease away a bit and walk over to the food and water bowls. They were awfully big. It gave me a funny feeling to be inside the cage. They could lock the door and leave me in here, and walk away.

Of course, that didn't happen. But how would it feel to a creature that was meant to be wild, and couldn't explain to itself why it wasn't? It would be horrible. I imagined even a shifter who knew he'd get out in a day or so didn't particularly like the feeling of being trapped.

I tried to look abstracted and thoughtful as I sniffed. The guy was keeping such a close eye on me I didn't dare let on I was sniffing, and kept my breaths slow and even. It wasn't as easy to smell things that way, but the tiger-shifter's scent was so strong that I couldn't have missed it if I'd tried. I wandered back out and around, as if simply curious. It was just as I'd thought.

It was really fresh, really recent—and there was a clear trail away from the cage area and out the back door. The back door didn't appear to be locked. I headed toward it.

"Don't touch that," said Mr. Martins, who was suddenly at my elbow as if he could teleport. He touched my back lightly. "Sorry, but it's wired—security. I can open it for you, but it requires a code."

"Okay. Sorry." I moved to stand next to Dean, and took his elbow, angling us away from Martins, moving as if to show him something. I leaned close and said, "The scent is fresh. I could follow it out that door if I shifted."

"And it's still our tiger?" Dean sounded surprised, I don't know why.

"Mm-hm. If you want me to track him, you're going to have to be the one to explain it to our friend here."