Familiar Vows. Caroline Burnes

witness. You’ve blown her cover and endangered her life. Now your life may also be in danger. Open the door so we can begin to make this right.”

      Michelle slowly undid the latch. She stepped back, moving zombielike to the kitchen. “I need some coffee,” she said.

      “There’s no time.” Lucas scanned the room and walked to the windows. After he checked the street, he lowered the blinds and pulled the curtains shut.

      “I’m dying from a headache. I need caffeine.”

      “We’ll get some at the airport.”

      She tried to focus on what he was saying, but things were moving too fast. “The airport?”

      He wheeled on her then, the anger she’d seen clearly in his gray eyes and terse expression no longer under control. “Lorry Kennedy’s life could be at stake. Likely Charles’s, too. Because of you. Because you did exactly what you wanted to do with a photograph that never should have been taken.”

      Michelle stumbled backward from the onslaught of his harsh words. Once she regained her balance, though, she stepped into his face.

      “I didn’t intend to show that photograph. The movers picked it up by mistake. As soon as I saw it, I had it removed.”

      “And you think that makes it okay?” Lucas glared at her.

      She lifted her chin and looked into his flinty eyes. “It doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t make me a worthless liar, either. It was an accident.”

      “So if Robert Maxim finds Lorry and kills her, we can just mark it down as an accidental death.”

      Her head was throbbing so hard, she thought she might throw up. Preferably on his boots. She hated to have her nose rubbed in a mistake. Her parents were masters at this behavior and had shoved every tiny misstep back in her face. Until she’d found the grit to move to New York and follow her dream.

      “That’s not what I meant,” she said through clenched teeth. “All I’m saying is that this didn’t happen because I didn’t care.” She held up her hands. Why was she trying to explain this to a cowboy?

      “Pack a bag. I’ve got to get you out of here. If I can find you, so can the Maxims.”

      “I’m not going anywhere, and you aren’t going to panic me into doing something insane, like get on a plane with a man I don’t know at all and who may himself be a psycho killer.”

      Lucas laughed, but it wasn’t from amusement. “That scar on Lorry’s neck?”

      He watched her like a hawk, waiting for the moment to pounce. She wanted to squirm, but she wouldn’t allow herself. “I saw the scar.”

      “Antonio Maxim ordered his men to cut her throat and throw her in the river so she couldn’t testify against him. He’ll do worse to you, because he’ll want information.”

      His words were having an effect, though she would die before she let him see it. “And what did this Antonio Maxim do that was so awful?”

      Lucas glanced down, but only for a split second. When he locked eyes with Michelle again, he looked madder than ever. “He killed my brother, an undercover cop, and he’s responsible for hundreds of young girls ending up as prostitutes and drug addicts. Is that bad enough for you?”

      She found a chair with her hand and slowly lowered her body into it. Murder, forced prostitution, drugs. She wasn’t an innocent. She knew the city had a million layers, and at the bottom there was a lot of pain and suffering.

      Never had she expected to find it on her doorstep, though.

      “Is Lorry okay?”

      “My friend has been trying to find her since that newscast aired last night. As of this morning, both she and Charles have vanished.”

      Michelle felt as if someone had kicked her in the gut. “Vanished as in left by their own choice, or vanished as in someone took them?”

      “I won’t be able to tell until I look. That’s why you’re packing a bag and we’re going to Mobile, Alabama. As much as I’d like to put you in a safe house, I can’t. I’m Lorry’s best chance at survival, and you’re going with me.”

      Michelle was about to protest when she heard the strangest sound.

      “What’s that?” She rose slowly. It sounded as if someone was scratching wood.

      She started toward the door, but Lucas pulled her back and stepped in front of her. He moved with grace and authority.

      His hand went to his side, and she knew instinctively that he was reaching for a weapon. Whatever he’d done in his past, he was used to carrying a firearm. But his hand came back empty. For once, she would have been glad to see some kind of gun in someone’s hand.

      The scratching came again.

      When Lucas looked out the peephole of her door, he muttered under his breath.

      “Who is it?” she asked.

      “There’s no one there.”

      Yet the scratching came once more.

      Lucas opened the door slowly. They both looked down at the black cat, which stared back up at them.

      “Is that the cat from the wedding and from the gallery?” Michelle asked. Along with her pounding head, she was now suffering from hallucinations.

      “I’ll be…a five-toed Texas longhorn.” Lucas stepped back, and the cat entered the room with an air of royalty.

      “How does he get around town?” Michelle asked.

      “Danged if I know,” Lucas answered. “But he does. Eleanor swears he’s a private investigator. He gets calls from all around the world.”

      Pressing her hands to her temples, Michelle headed to the small kitchen. She put on the pot for coffee. The man ordering her around her own apartment could just wait until she got a jolt of caffeine in her system. She couldn’t deal with murderers, dead brothers, witness protection and cats who solved mysteries without some coffee. Something much stronger might even be better.

      INSTEAD OF ARGUING, LUCAS yielded on the coffee. Time was short, but it would do no good to bully Michelle. He’d seen her distress, and he knew it was real. She’d never intended for any of the events that had taken place to occur. He sure knew what that felt like.

      While Michelle brewed the coffee, he called Eleanor and told her Familiar had shown up.

      “I told you,” Eleanor said. “Let him help you, Lucas. He has a gift.”

      “I’m finding this a bit hard to swallow.”

      She laughed. “It’s tough on the U.S. marshal ego to rely on a cat, but he will help, if you let him. He’s fond of Lorry, and he’s got a thing for that photographer. Familiar has excellent taste in women. He picked me out to be his owner.”

      Lucas couldn’t help but smile. It was an intrguing concept—that the cat had an interest in Michelle. But he had shown up at the gallery and now at her apartment. No. It was too crazy to concede.

      “When we leave, I’ll call you, and you can come and pick him up.”

      “Okay.”

      He hung up and went to the kitchen, where he laid out the travel plans for Michelle. Her color was better as she sipped the strong black coffee. His cup remained untouched. He was already jittery. Too much adrenaline and too little sleep.

      “We’ll take the eleven o’clock flight south. I’ve already booked us seats.”

      “I’m not going.” Michelle’s hazel eyes dared him to contradict her.

      He was happy to oblige. “You are. I’ve already told you that it’s dangerous to stay here. They know you saw Lorry. They’re going to be