Madison Layle - Falke’s Captive

A mountain lion yowl had her pausing only an instant before she shoved the door open. In the cage was a big, angry puma. It hissed, yowled, growled and paced the small confines. And when it saw her, it got louder and took a swipe at her through the bars, missing by more than a foot.

“About damn time you showed up, Elizabeth,” Professor Whitmore said, anger in his tone. “Did you find out who broke in here?”

When she turned toward the desk where Whitmore sat, she saw one of the Falke collars sitting in front of a monitor, and her gut clenched. She glanced at the furious cougar again, then back to Whitmore.

“Well?” The professor’s agitation was obvious.

“Uh…no. No, I didn’t.” She shut the door and forced her voice into casual conversation, but raised it enough to be heard over the growling, spitting cougar. “You captured another cougar. Where was this one?”

Whitmore scowled at her as she approached the desk and ignored her question. “You didn’t find out who did it? It’s been hours since I called you.”

She laid her laptop case on the desk and unzipped it. “Yes, sir. I had to check all the video, hours of it. I’m sorry. But I found nothing.” She pulled the laptop out and opened it. “Are you sure the files weren’t corrupted or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot. One file, maybe, but five files don’t just vanish. Besides, I found evidence of a shredder program being run to record over the data with fucking gibberish. It’s irretrievable, and that doesn’t happen by accident. I told you that.” He grabbed the laptop and turned it toward him. “Show me the video.”

She reached over and clicked on the LabCam icon, hoping Reidar had been more careful this time in covering his tracks. She hadn’t realized the professor knew much about computer software. “Um… there’s every hour since Tim installed the software.”

She glanced at the cat, who now batted at the door latch, and she realized Professor Whitmore hadn’t used the padlock Tim purchased for the cage. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. I’ll get you out.

He didn’t seem to hear her though. Could they hear thoughts? She hadn’t asked. She could hear theirs, when they wanted her to, but did it go the other way? Wouldn’t they know more about what was in her head if they did?

Professor Whitmore stared at the computer, clicking through the files. Beth opened her desk drawer and pulled out a Sharpie and a yellow legal pad she used to take notes. “So,” she said to Whitmore as she moved a bit behind him and uncapped the marker. “What are the plans for today?”

Still watching the computer screen, Whitmore said, “We’re moving the lab. You and Tim will start the fieldwork in that northern section of the forest.”

As he spoke, she wrote in huge letters, I’ll get you out.

“Okay. Why are we moving the lab so soon?” she asked, and held the notepad behind her back so the cat could see it. When a growl ended with an uptick that almost sounded like a question mark, she gave a silent sigh of relief. This truly was a Falke brother.

Then it hissed.

“We have this cat from here. We need to move.” He still gazed intently at the computer screen.

She wrote, Trust me. Your name? And held it behind her back again.

“When did you get this cougar? He looks an awful lot like the Falke brothers’ pet.”

Sindre. My name’s Sindre, and you’ve got to get out of here. Get help!

“It is,” Whitmore said.

“Have you taken his blood yet?” She scribbled as she spoke, You’ll be okay. I’ll take care- “What are you doing?”

She looked up from writing to see Whitmore staring at her. “Nothing.” She flipped the page and began writing again. “Just taking notes on what needs to be done today. We’ll have to check out of the hotel. Give the key to the gate here back to the forestry department—” Whitmore snatched the legal pad from her hand and flipped back. “What the hell?”

She backed toward the door.

Run! Get out now. Sindre’s warning was loud enough to make her flinch.

Whitmore lunged out of the chair and grasped her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

She shook her head. She didn’t know what to say. “Ow, Professor. You’re hurting me.” His grip loosened, but her attempt to twist free failed. “What’s gotten into you?”

He still held the notepad in one hand and was staring at what she’d written. “Do you think that cat can read?”

She shook her head even harder. “That’s insane, Professor. Cats can’t read.”

He pulled her toward the desk and shoved her into a chair. “Then explain this.”

Her face heated as she read the last words she’d written for the cougar. “Look, I was just doodling.”

“That’s not doodling.”

“It’s starting lines.”

“What?”

Trying to think fast, she rolled her eyes and said, “I’ve been toying with an idea I have to write this…um…fictional story, you know, inspired by some of the things I’ve seen in this forest. I knew you wouldn’t understand, so I lied—about taking notes, I mean.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“You expect me to believe that you honestly think an animal can read?”

Then she wondered why she was afraid of the professor. He was angry, yes, but he’d never truly harm her. He was a professional scientist. Perhaps offense was the best defense.

She stood and snatched up the Falke collar from the desk. “Now I want to know what you are going to do with that cat. I thought we were in this together. You gave me the assignment to regain access to Falke, but here he is.”

“Your efforts were taking too long.”

“Are you trying to oust me from this project? Did you forget that I found the cat first, that I shared the results with you? Me . Why would I jeopardize the project?”

For a split second he studied her face as if he believed her outburst, but then his eyes narrowed.

“You know more than you’re telling.” He held the notebook up as evidence.

She cast a glance at the cat that had started to growl again. “You didn’t answer my questions.

Where’d you get him?”

Whitmore’s laugh sounded a little off, strained. “People shouldn’t let their pets walk around free.

I got him the same way you did.”

He shot me with the tranquilizer right outside the store. Drugged me. I woke up here. What the hell is going on? Whose side are you on?

She glanced at Sindre again, then back at the professor. “So, take his blood and let him go. We can conduct the tests again, regain the evidence we lost and move on. Why have me waste time going through surveillance footage if you already had the cat?”

“Because there’s a saboteur here, and I want to know who.”

“Fine, but why keep the cat? All we need are some blood samples.”

You fucking bitch! She winced at the volume behind the puma’s rage.

“He belongs to someone. We should let it go. He’ll find his way home. The brothers told me he always does.”

“Are you kidding?” Whitmore said. “You think the damn thing can read. And don’t try to convince me otherwise. You’re a terrible liar, Elizabeth. We already know his blood has anomalies enough to change the way people think about evolution. Don’t you see? He’s the fucking missing link!” His face flushed red, and beads of spittle flew from his mouth when he shouted that last statement.

Now she was scared. Terrified. Whitmore was losing it.

“An animal with human patterns of DNA…”

“Professor,” she said, backing up a step. “I spoke with two of the brothers last night. They agreed to give me access to the cat.”