Leopard's Baby

“Any change?” Haley asked.

“No,” Tammy replied. She paced the room holding Brendan. “He still has fever, chills, headache, sore neck. It’s hard to know all his symptoms because he’s too young to express himself clearly. It’s been more than a week.”

“I still think you should take him to a hospital.”

“I don’t have insurance.”

Tammy knew the excuse was lame, but if Brendan was examined in a hospital they might enter his DNA into a national database. That would alert Jennifer. Tammy would have to be on the run again, this time with a sick child. The first five weeks she’d been with Haley had been great. Then Brendan got sick. At first Tammy thought it was a typical childhood illness. When he didn’t get better after about four days, she’d taken him to a local family practitioner, a man in his late sixties. He’d said Brandon had the flu and she should give him Tamiflu, Tylenol, and make sure he didn’t get dehydrated. Now another four days had passed with no improvement. If anything he was a little worse.

“You’re just going to do nothing and hope he pulls out of it on his own?” Haley asked in obvious disapproval.

“No, I can’t do that either,” Tammy said. Tears came to her eyes. She had no confidence in the local doctor. Giving him to Jennifer was better than letting him get sicker, but she did have one other option. “Haley, I need a big favor. I need to borrow your truck.”

“When?”

“Now.”

“For how long?”

“I can’t be sure. Two or three days. Maybe a day or two longer.”

“If it were only for a few hours, Missy, I’d let you take it,” Haley said. She wrapped an arm around the younger woman. “I’d like to help you, I really would. Since you came to work for me business has been booming. You chased away the bad element, and my establishment has become the place to be for the younger crowd. My former regulars are coming back and they’re bringing their friends. I can’t run my business without my truck. Especially if you’re going to be away for a few days. How about asking Ethan? He can walk to his construction job. I’d think he’d jump at the chance to get in good with you.”

Ethan Butler had been coming into the tavern on almost a daily basis. He’d asked Tammy out on a couple of occasions and was good natured about it when she’d refused. Occasionally she’d taken Brendan to a local fast food restaurant. On two such occasions Butler had asked to join them and she’d allowed it. In general he’d been courteous. He’d flirted with her in a convivial fashion.

Tammy gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to become beholden, but her other options were worse. “Do you have his phone number?”

Haley gave her the number. She got his voice mail. He returned her call ten minutes later. He agreed to loan her his car provided she’d go to dinner and the movies with him, without Brendan, on a Sunday evening when the tavern was closed. Haley overheard and offered to babysit. With some misgivings Tammy agreed, provided Brendan was better.

“I wouldn’t want Bobby to be sick,” Haley said, while they waited for Ethan. “But assuming he gets better, this might be a blessing in disguise. You’re an attractive girl, and you’re hiding yourself away. You need to get out and see the world a little more. Ethan’s a good guy.”

***

“We need to talk, Jennifer,” Senator Curtis Roberts said to his wife.

For weeks he’d been dreading confronting her, always finding some excuse to put it off. Even after the FBI reported that the audio he’d given the director was not doctored in any way, he’d still postponed what he suspected would be a very uncomfortable conversation. One of his excuses had been that he didn’t want to get into a fight with his wife while his daughter Karla was home for Christmas break. After she went back to school he still put it off, telling himself he had important senate business. Finally he felt he couldn’t delay and longer.

“Can it wait, Curtis?” Jennifer asked. She took her glasses off, put them on the table beside the papers she’d been working on, and took a sip from her glass of wine. “I’m trying to organize the guest list for our ‘start of spring’ dinner. I wish you’d speak to your daughter. She refuses to come in for it. I wanted her to meet Senator Foster’s son.”

“No this can’t wait,” Curtis said. I’ve put it off long enough, he thought. I’ve finally worked up the courage to be a man about this, and I’m not going to let her deflect me from it. I have no problem clashing with the President of the United States. Why do I fear standing up to my wife?

“Oh, all right,” Jennifer said with a theatrical sigh. “What is it?”

“Listen to this recording.” He played the audio of the conversation Olivia had with Cal Ricci.

“I recognize the voice of Olivia Selinson,” Jennifer said as she made a dismissive gesture. “It’s obvious what she’s done. She’ll do anything to get the prenuptial agreement thrown out. She has all kinds of resources. She’s constructed a recording, or, more likely, had it constructed trying to do exactly that.”

“I gave the recording to Chad,” Curtis said. “The FBI techs verified it’s a recording of an actual conversation. Not doctored in any way.”

“So what? She hired an actor. Or coerced the poor man to follow her script. Any fool can tell it was made under duress. It was an FBI man who authenticated Tamara’s signature and fingerprints on the document. The prenuptial agreement is real. We have complete control over our grandson. You should be happy about that.”

“Except that we don’t have our grandson,” Curtis pointed out. “Maybe if we’re a little more flexible about letting his maternal relatives have access to him, we might get him back. If it’s not already too late.”

“NEVER!” Jennifer shouted. She jumped to her feet. Her wine glass tipped over and wine ran over the papers she’d been examining. “That whole family consists of dangerous criminals! Even the young daughter has no sense of propriety. Tamara has killed God knows how many people. Who knows what Olivia has done. She keeps it a deep, dark secret. Tamara was responsible for the death of our son. She nearly got our daughter killed, and has caused her to be alienated from me to the point where Karla and I barely speak. I’ll never give those horrible people the chance to turn our grandson against us. And you better believe that’s what they’d do, given a chance.”

“But…” Curtis started to object.

Jennifer flounced out of the room without a backward glance. The senator heard the door to her study slam. The lady doth protest too much, methinks, he thought.

***

Fear ran through her body as Jennifer slammed the door to her office. Her heart was racing and her knees felt weak. She practically fell into her desk chair. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. When she felt more in control she picked up her phone and hit a speed-dial button. After two rings it was picked up.

“Can this wait Jennifer,” Merritt Covington asked. “I’m in an important meeting. I can call back in about an hour.”

“It can’t wait,” Jennifer said, speaking rapidly in a higher than normal tone. “He knows! Curtis knows! He’s brought in the FBI.”

“Hang on for a second, Jennifer,” Covington said. He must have put his hand over the mouthpiece because she heard only muffled sounds. Thirty seconds later he said, “I’m alone and can talk now, but I have to get back ASAP. What does Curtis know?”

“He knows we forged the prenup! He has a recording of an exchange with the guy who did it. He described in detail how it was done. Curtis gave the recording to the FBI and they verified it was a real conversation. I denied I had anything to do with it, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“Who was the conversation with?”

“Tamara’s mother! She threatened the guy and he caved.”

“If it was made under duress, it’s not admissible. This changes nothing. Don’t panic.”

“If the FBI can find the guy, they might get him to talk!” Jennifer said. Her voice became more strident. “He’s a crook. They can offer him some kind of a plea deal.”

“Jennifer, please calm down,” Covington said. Jennifer heard another voice in the background. Covington said something she didn’t hear clearly. Then he said, “It’s not a problem. I’ll call my man later today. He’ll take care of it. I really have to get back to my meeting. Sit tight for now. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Immediately after her call to Covington ended, Jennifer called Kent Malone, her chief of security. She described her confrontation with Curtis and told him it was more important than ever to have Tamara neutralized. She instructed him to offer more money.

***

Tammy left the car in a parking garage about a half-mile from Megan’s apartment. In spite of her hurry and anxiety, she’d been careful to stay within the speed limit. The drive had taken more than five and half hours. She’d given Brendan a mild sedative and he’d slept fitfully for the entire trip. It was considerably colder in Chicago than it had been more than three hundred miles to the south. She was glad she’d brought a thermal blanket. She wrapped him in the blanket and walked rapidly to her destination. She entered the vestibule and pushed their apartment button, hoping they were in. She was in luck.

Megan and her husband were waiting at the apartment door. “Brendan’s sick,” Tammy said as she entered the apartment. “A local doctor said he had the flu, but I don’t think that’s it. I gave him Tamiflu and Tylenol but he didn’t get any better. If I take him to a hospital Jennifer will find out about it. I only want to do that if there’s no other recourse.”

“Don’t worry, Tam,” Megan said. “Nate will take good care of him.”

“I’ll exam him as soon as I get my doctor bag,” Nathan said. He left the room, returned shortly, and said, “My mother gave me this when I graduated from medical school. I’ve never used it, but I still make sure the meds in it are up to date.”

He took Brendan and went into another room. Tammy and Megan followed. The room had a crib in the corner and was being made up into a child’s bedroom.

“You’re pregnant!” Tammy said to Megan.

“A little over three months,” Megan said with a broad grin. She indicated her breasts and said, “I wanted these jugs for something other than making men’s eyes pop out of their heads.”

“Congratulations,” Tammy said and turned to watch Nathan and Brendan.

Fifteen minutes later Nathan said, “Fortunately he doesn’t have pneumonia. That’s what I feared because he gurgled a little when he breathed. I think you’re right about the flu. I think I know what it is, but I’ll need a blood sample to make sure. I’ll have it tested tomorrow at the hospital. In the meantime I’m going to give him an antibiotic. We’ll also continue with the Tylenol to bring his fever down.”

“I asked the doctor I took him to about an antibiotic,” Tammy said. “He said it’s not called for.”

“If it were the flu he’d be correct,” Nathan said. He gave Brendan a shot and drew a little blood. Brendan whimpered but otherwise made no fuss. “There’s been a lot in the literature about the overuse of antibiotics. It can have severe repercussions later in life.”

***

The next morning Nathan gave Brendan another dose of antibiotic before he and Megan left. Nathan returned from the hospital about noon. Megan was with him. Tammy had been encouraged because Brendan seemed to be breathing easier, but the tears in Megan’s eyes scared her.

“What! What!” Tammy cried, resisting the urge to shout because she didn’t want to disturb her son.

“There’s good news and bad news,” Nathan said. “The good news is he has Lyme disease. Not that Lyme disease is good, but it’s treatable. I suspected as much last night. I found a little pinprick behind his left knee. I thought it might be a tick bite. I’m pretty sure we caught it early enough that the antibiotic will take care of it. We’ll have to wait a few days to see. The bad news is that he has a strange blood anomaly. The hematologist who looked at says he’s about eighty percent sure it’s the beginning of leukemia. He’s never seen anything like it, so he can’t be absolutely positive, but he’s an expert. I trust him. In its early stages leukemia is frequently treatable, but the baby will have to be admitted to the hospital. The Lyme disease might be a blessing in disguise. It allowed us to catch the leukemia early. If that’s what it is.”

“He doesn’t have leukemia,” Tammy said as relief flooded through her body.

“Denial is often the first reaction to this diagnosis,” Nathan said kindly, as he put a hand on Tammy’s shoulder. “The sooner you accept it the better off both you and he will be.”

“I’m not in denial. I know about the anomaly. It was discovered right after he was born. It’s benign. I have the same thing. So does my mother, my sister, and my brother. It’s a family trait.”

“You’re not a doctor, Tammy,” Nathan said. “I certainly hope you’re right about it being benign, but I’d be remiss in my responsibilities if I didn’t insist he come into the hospital for further tests. I know you’ve been through a lot and I sympathize. I have to put the child’s health first. I don’t want to threaten you, but if you try to leave before he’s at least examined by trained experts, I’ll stop you and call Child Welfare.”

“Good luck stopping her,” Megan said, and grinned. “When Nate told me about leukemia I was so shook up I forgot about the blood anomaly. It might be time to bring him into the fold, Tam.”

“What are you talking about,” Nathan said. “Bring me into the fold about what?”

“Among other things why Clarabelle goes nuts whenever Tammy or Olivia are around.”

“And this is supposed to convince me Brendan doesn’t have leukemia?”

“Yes,” Megan replied. She went over to her husband, gave him a hug and a kiss, and asked, “Nate, do you know what werewolf is?”

“Of course I do. When I was a kid I loved vampire and werewolf movies. Don’t distract me with fairy tales.”

“They’re not fairy tales,” Tammy said. “Vampires and werewolves are real.”

“And you’re trying to tell me Brendan is a vampire or a werewolf?” Nathan said and barked out a laugh. “Maybe those doctors at the psychiatric hospital were right. You’re delusional.”

“She’s not delusional,” Megan said. “There’s something about her you have to see, and you need to be sitting down for it. Tammy, I’m afraid you’re going to have to show him.”

Megan took Nathan by the arm and led him to an armchair. He started to say something when Tammy began taking off her clothes. Megan put a finger to his lips. When Tammy was naked, Megan got behind the chair and put both hands on Nathan’s shoulders. There was a whump sound. Where Tammy had been was a black leopard.

Nathan shrieked. His mouth opened and his jaw moved up and down, but no words came out. His eyes opened wide. He shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly as if trying to make an apparition go away. He grasped Megan’s hands and squeezed.

The leopard snarled and showed her formidable teeth. She head-butted Nathan.

“Change back!” Megan shouted. There was another whump sound and Tammy reappeared. She was on her hands and knees, breathing heavily. After about a minute, she got to her feet and began to get dressed.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” Nathan said. He put his hand to his chest. Megan handed him a stiff drink. He gulped it down, made a face, and uttered, “Bleth! I almost never drink, but I needed that.”

“You also got to see Tammy naked,” Megan said with a lascivious grin. “I told you she was almost as hot as I am. Almost. Until I get fat. Then she’ll be hotter.”

“You said your mother and siblings also have the anomaly,” Nathan said, his scientific curiosity aroused. “Are they also… whatever it is you are?”

“Yes. We’re were-leopards.”

“Any others?”

“Possibly, but I don’t know of any.”

“Will Brendan become one?”

“I don’t know. The first symptoms don’t start to appear before age nine or ten. The ability to change form doesn’t arrive before puberty. My grandfather has the blood anomaly but never became a were-leopard.”

“What are the symptoms?”

“Significantly enhanced strength and quickness. Better vision especially at night. Better sense of smell. A craving for meat. A few other things.”

“Is it the same for werewolves only they’re wolves?”

“I can’t make categorical statements,” Tammy said. “The sample size is too small. From what I’ve seen, it’s not the same for werewolves. My change is voluntary. Like in the Lon Chaney movies, werewolves can only change at a full moon, and they have no control over it. They have no recollection as to what they did in wolf form. I know what my leopard does.”

“What about vampires?”

“Vampires feed off people,” Tammy said. She wrinkled her face in distaste. “We’re cattle to them. Fortunately they’re very rare. Their biggest protection is that few people believe they exist.”

“What about demons?”

“I don’t know of any demons. We’re not ‘creatures of the devil.’ We’re natural.”

“Would I become a were-leopard if you bit me?”

“Unlikely. It’s a genetic trait. Pretty much the same with all specials as far as I know.”

“If someone is killed by a vampire, will they become one.”

“The movies give you the wrong idea,” Tammy said. “If that were the case we’d be overrun with them in short order. Both killing and creating a vampire are difficult. Just being killed by one won’t do it. The process is long and involved and is only successful a fraction of the time. I suspect there must be a genetic element also, but I know of no way to conduct a clinical trial.”

“How do you kill a vampire?”

“On that score the movies and television are correct, but the level of difficulty is high. A wooden stake through the heart. Decapitation. Sunlight. Fire.”

“Are there any were-creatures besides wolves and leopards?”

“Not that I know of,” Tammy said and shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean anything. We try to avoid being noticed. We’re exceptionally strong, but we’re not invulnerable. Most ordinary people would fear us and try to kill us. Some ‘macho men’ would just want to prove they could. Religious fanatics would want to kill ‘creatures of the devil.’ The worst threat, however, would be from Islamic terrorists. Both my mother and myself have carried out operations against them, and they’d love to get revenge. That’s why it’s important for us to stay under the radar.”

“I get that,” Nathan said. He shuddered. “I’m trying to imagine a were-lion. With one of those you’d have something really formidable.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Tammy contradicted. “Not more formidable than a leopard anyway. It would be too small. We can’t create matter. Pound for pound a leopard is just about the strongest member of the cat family. Lions and tigers are stronger, but mostly because they’re much bigger. A were-lion would have to weigh about four hundred pounds as a human. You’re not going to find many of those.”