Indignation shined like inky flames of fervor in Feldman’s coal-colored eyes. Not that I could blame him. “And yet you’re surprised when we don’t welcome your boyfriend with open arms…”
What? Was he blaming Marc for the microchips?
“Mr. Feldman, Marc had nothing to do with this,” I insisted, my stomach clenching around the lump of apprehension lodged in my gut. “A violation of privacy like this stands to benefit him no more than it does you. Quite the opposite, in fact. So why would he participate in it?”
Feldman shrugged broad shoulders. “I assume he’s following orders.”
Adrenaline scorched my nerve endings, and I glanced at Ethan to find my dread mirrored in his expression. They thought our father had ordered strays illicitly tagged and monitored?
“You’re wrong,” I said, fighting to remain calm. To slow my racing heart. “My dad would never do something like that, and neither would Marc.”
“That you know of.” Feldman leaned forward, studying me carefully, looking for a lie in my bearing or the race of my heart. Then, apparently satisfied, he exhaled softly. “I believe that you knew nothing about this.” He widened his gaze to include the guys. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. And I’m holding the proof that it did.” He held the chip higher for emphasis.
“Why?” Parker asked with his typical quiet composure, drawing all eyes his way.
Feldman frowned. “Why, what?”
“Why are you still holding the proof?” He gestured at the pill-size capsule. “You could have crushed that thing like a bug. Why didn’t you?”
“Because then whoever’s monitoring it would know I’d found it. They’d know we’re onto them.”
“We, who?” Dan asked, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “Who else has one?”
“I don’t know. Kevin Mitchell knows about the chips because I told him, but as far as I know, I’m the only one who’s actually found one. And we agreed to keep it quiet to avoid panic and public outcry until we’ve decided what to do about it. With Marc out of the picture, that should be a little easier.”
Fury scalded my cheeks and Feldman watched my face, but he seemed to get no pleasure from my reaction. He was stating facts—at least as he saw them—not trying to get a rise out of me.
“For the last time, Marc is not…” Dead. “Involved,” I finished, avoiding the tactical error at the last second. I closed my eyes, thinking. Kevin knew about the chips. And Kevin had arranged the attack on Marc. He was the only thing bridging the gaps in our understanding.
Now, if we could just figure out how he fit in.
Dan shifted on the couch cushion beside me, and I looked over to find him frowning, a mixture of guilt and loyalty highlighting the tired creases around his eyes. If he didn’t let go of that misplaced guilt soon, he was going to drive himself nuts. “She’s right, Ben. Marc had nothin’ to do with this. I’da known about it.”
Feldman eyed him in both pity and scorn. “You think he told you everything he ever did? Every man has secrets, Painter.”
“I know.” Dan dropped his gaze and cleaned grime from beneath one fingernail with another. “But he wouldn’ta done this. Marc doesn’t have that in him.”
“Bullshit!” Feldman’s voice rose, and he scooted to the edge of his seat, his fists hanging over the coffee table between us. “Ramos is neck-deep in this! He’s been taking us one at a time for weeks. Some of us never return, and some come back with chips in our backs—” he held up the microchip as evidence “—and no memory of what happened.”
“If you have no memory of it, how do you know what happened?” Parker asked softly.
Feldman’s angry gaze found him. “I discovered a scar I couldn’t account for, and there was a little lump beneath it. Almost too small to feel. And I dug this thing out of my flesh. At first I couldn’t figure out how it got there. Then I remembered a night a couple of weekends ago. I went out drinking with some colleagues, and I stayed a while after they left. I woke up in my own bed twenty-four hours later, with no memory of going home, or what I’d done since. I assumed I’d partied too hard.”
“Do you do that often?” I interrupted, and he scowled at me.
“No. But nothing else made any sense, since I woke up with both of my kidneys in place.” The acid in his tone could have melted through flesh, but I couldn’t resist a small smile, in spite of the seriousness of his accusations.
“I didn’t put it together until I found the chip.”
“Why didn’t you notice the wound?” Ethan scratched the dark stubble on his chin.
“Because there was no wound. I’d have noticed stitches and a bandage, but there was nothing but a fresh scar, which I didn’t notice for another week. Now, how they managed that, I have no idea.”
But I did. They’d forced his Shift—possibly several times—to accelerate healing, so that when they let their tagged tom go, he had no pain to clue him in to the procedure.
I looked from Ethan to Parker and knew at a glance that they’d come to the same conclusion. The bastards behind this were well organized and smart. And efficient. They’d carried the whole thing off in only one stolen day of Feldman’s life.
Our host continued, having evidently missed our silent communication. “But at least I made it home. Some of them don’t come back at all. Maybe the procedure goes wrong. Maybe the victims wake up and remember what happened.” Feldman shrugged. “I don’t know. But there are too many toms missing for this to be a coincidence.”
“Yes, including Marc!” I couldn’t filter anger from my tone. “Marc didn’t take those toms. He’s one of them! Kevin Mitchell sent three strays to his house to take him, and that’s exactly what happened with the other toms. I think they were trying to tag him, but something went wrong, just like you said.”Feldman shook his head, his jaws clenched in irritation. “Kevin Mitchell has nothing to do with the chips. He probably sent those toms to kill Marc. For his part in this.” He waved the chip again, like a patriot’s flag.
“No.” Parker shook his head, still sitting serenely on the couch, as if we were having a friendly chat with a trusted friend. “Pete Yarnell said Eckard accidentally killed Marc, and called him an idiot for it. They were supposed to take him.”
Feldman huffed in bitter amusement. “Kevin didn’t orchestrate this. Strays and wildcats have neither the funding necessary to get our paws on so many commercially unavailable devices, nor the organizational network needed to implant them. This is Pride work. No way around it.”
“Well, it wasn’t our Pride!” I snapped, glancing at the others for support. Then I froze as what I’d said truly sank in. Ours wasn’t the only Pride out there. Nor was it the only one Kevin had connections to.
“Please, Mr. Feldman. Help us find Kevin.” I leaned forward, shamelessly begging, because if we caught Kevin Mitchell and brought proof before the council, my father’s case could be infinitely strengthened by a show of our Pride’s competence. “I swear to you that he’s responsible for the microchips.”
Feldman raised both eyebrows. “Can you prove that?”
I sighed. “No.”
Feldman stood slowly, staring down at me until I felt obligated to stand also. “Ms. Sanders, I would think that as an enforcer, you would have some understanding of the concepts of loyalty, truth, and consequences. Kevin Mitchell has given me no reason not to trust him, and I will not hand him over to you without solid proof that he deserves it.”
My mind raced furiously, but I couldn’t think of any way to prove my claims. Yet. “Fine. I’ll get you proof. But in the meantime, may we borrow the microchip? I want to show it to my Alpha. He’s our best chance at ending this, and he needs to see what’s happening.”
“No.” Feldman wrapped his fist firmly around the chip and stuffed it into his pocket. “For all I know, you’ll stomp it to bits on my front porch, to destroy proof of your Pride’s involvement.”
My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. “No! We wouldn’t do that. We’re trying to help you!”
The stray’s gaze hardened. “It sounds more like you want my help.” Feldman stomped toward the front door, and the floor shook with every step. “You should go now, before I lose my temper.” His voice was gravelly with a deep current of anger.
I walked slowly toward the front door, the guys at my heels, when what I really wanted to do was take the microchip I desperately needed as proof to the council that someone among their ranks was egregiously violating the civil rights of random strays in the free zone. And if that someone turned out to be Calvin Malone, his case against my father would die a blissfully violent death.
But I did none of that because something told me that though Ben Feldman didn’t yet trust me, I could trust him to do what he thought was right, once he had a clear view of the big picture. And that he would be a very dangerous enemy to have.
I stepped onto the porch and turned back to face Feldman as the guys brushed past me into the cold, disappointment and frustration obvious in their clenched jaws and fists. “I’m sorry. This didn’t turn out how I’d hoped. But thank you for talking to me. And I will get you that proof.”