Payne heaved a frustrated sigh and followed Ian back into the visitor center. “I know what I felt. She was out there.”
“I’m not doubting what you sensed, but she must have realized you were on to her. She was gone by the time I took off.” Rather than loiter in the gift shop, Ian led Payne down a short hall and into Devon’s office. “Everyone’s on high alert. If she’s foolish enough to attack again, she’ll find herself in a cage.” He motioned to the chairs situated in front of the desk, but Payne remained in the doorway. “What did Eli learn? You said it was important.”
“We were curious to see if she’d done anything like this before, so Eli searched police reports and the Therian database for incidents involving a silver-haired female.”
“And?” Ian leaned against the corner of Devon’s desk, too anxious to sit down.
“There were scattered reports going back at least fifty years, but no kidnappings or other serious crimes.”
“Then what sorts of crimes has she committed?”
“Vigilante stuff, mainly. Roughing up a purse snatcher and finding a missing child. That sort of thing.”
Ian crossed his arms over his chest. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected. “Why would a vigilante suddenly turn kidnapper?”
“Carly Ides was far from innocent. We presumed she was kidnapped to protect her from us. Perhaps the silver-haired specter wanted to make sure Carly didn’t escape punishment?”
Devon had certainly pushed for severe punishment for the human doctor. Was it possible the kidnapping had nothing to do with the backers? “If the silver-haired woman isn’t working for the backers, then who sent her?”
“Eli cross-referenced her incident reports with backer activity and found nothing, but when he ran her stats against Abolitionist activity numerous dates and locations overlapped.”
“Eli thinks our ghost is an Abolitionist?” Ian pushed away from the desk as possibilities rolled through his mind.
“It actually makes more sense than anything else. Why would the backers go through the trouble of rescuing Carly, when it’s likely she already told us everything she knows?”
Ian nodded. “The Abolitionists have more to gain, more reason to put themselves in danger.” He paused again as he digested the information. “Erin always suspected that the Abolitionist movement was founded by a Therian female.”
“We know their leader’s name is Nehema. It’s likely we now have her description as well.”
“Are Landon and Holt still searching?” Ian ushered Payne from the office and turned off the light.
“No. They’re back at Holt’s.”
“Well, let’s all get some sleep and we’ll head out tomorrow with a clearer idea of what we’re looking for.”
Payne nodded and Ian let him out through the back door. After reactivating the alarm, Ian made his way through the silent building. If Nehema was Therian, it explained many things, not the least of which was her uncanny ability to stay one step ahead of Therian males. Maybe Erin could find a disgruntled female who disappeared about the same time the Abolitionists came on scene. No, Erin had suspected a direct correlation long before tonight. Doubtlessly she had already searched the journals.
Ian let himself into Devon’s apartment and locked the door behind him. The windows on this level were too small to accommodate a person, even someone as lithe as Devon. Even so, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep unless he knew she was safe.
Moonlight spilled in through the window in the bedroom area, outlining her small shape in the bed. He glanced at the sofa and shook his head. He was too damn tall for that dainty piece of furniture. It was the floor or the bed.
He tugged off his boots and his shirt but left his jeans in place. She was exhausted. Could he crawl into bed beside her without waking her up? Doubtful, but he’d give it a try. He crossed to the bed and placed his knee on the mattress.
“I thought we weren’t going to…”
“We’re not. I just won’t fit on the couch.”
Her chuckle sounded warm and sleepy. “Then lose the jeans. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”
He shed his jeans and crawled in behind her, slipping his arm under her neck so he could press against her back. She was warm and soft and his body immediately stirred. Not wanting her to feel his erection, he eased his hips away from her ass.
Her scent was rich and evocative, yet her breathing had already fallen into a slow, deep rhythm. He closed his eyes and willed his body to relax, content for the moment just to hold her.
* * * * *
Tias narrowed her gaze as she watched Roberto on the surveillance screen. Something was definitely wrong with her business partner. His behavior had been off ever since he arrived at the hospital this morning, but she hadn’t been able to pinpoint the problem. She scooted to the edge of her chair and drummed her long, red-and-black striped nails against the desktop. The rhythmic clicking soothed her, helped her focus. Her elaborate manicure was a cliché, but manipulating stereotypes could be a valuable strategy. When people saw what they expected to see, they seldom bothered to look closer.