“All right.” Vic patted Shen’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Give me a minute.”

Vic waited while Shen erased evidence that he’d been tooling around the company’s system. Once done, they headed out, Vic handing the rest of the cash he’d promised to the security guard.

They walked away from the port toward where they’d left the rental SUV.

“So now what?” Shen asked.

“Every time we think we’re close, there’s another dead end with this guy.”

“There’s got to be something we can try.”

Vic stopped, hands in pockets, his gaze locked on the clear sky. “We can check the daughter’s place again,” he said, resigned.

“That could have been where the package was going.”

“Doubtful.”

“Maybe. Or maybe a father making a desperate attempt to know his daughter after missing out on the last thirty years. He wouldn’t be the first. And whoever picked up the package and brought it to her . . .”

“Might know where we can start looking.” Vic nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”

They walked on, reaching the vehicle quickly.

“And when we’re done with this,” Shen said as he opened the passenger’s side. “We need to shut that place down.” He gestured in the direction of the company they’d just left.

“Absolutely,” Vic said, immediately thinking about the animals that had suffered for the most ridiculous reasons.

Shen glanced at his watch as Vic opened his door and got into the SUV. “I think we can make the red-eye if traffic is good.”

“Great,” Vic said, starting the SUV. “I’m so ready to go home.”

CHAPTER 5

They’d taken the red-eye back to LaGuardia and now Vic was tired and cranky. Plus, he couldn’t seem to shake Shen. The panda had gotten in the cab with him and was now getting out as Vic paid the driver.

“Why aren’t you going to your hotel?” Vic asked as they headed toward his Westchester house.

“I wanted to make sure you got home safe and sound.”

Vic stopped outside the chain-link gate surrounding his home. “You want me to make you something to eat, don’t you?”

“I’m a guest,” Shen said, easing the gate open and stepping onto Vic’s property. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

“You are such a—”

“Hello, Victor!”

Vic gritted his teeth. He was not in the mood for this. For her. At least with Shen, Vic could be as cranky and rude as he deemed it necessary this early in the morning. But Shen was a panda. Tolerant as most bears were. It was the reason his father could put up with Vic’s beautiful but high-maintenance mother. He was a tolerant grizzly. Sure, youstartled a grizzly, you risked getting your face ripped off. But otherwise, they put up with a lot as long as you kept the sounds low and the food supply substantial.

But this female wasn’t a bear. She was a feline. And a pushy one at that.

“Good morning, good morning,” she practically sang from behind him. And Vic wanted so badly to shut his gate and walk into his house without answering, but damn his Russian parents with their insistence on polite behavior. Polite behavior that didn’t allow him just to ignore a lady, no matter how annoying the lady might be.

Hand gripping the strap of his travel bag, Vic slowly turned and faced the pretty She-tiger standing behind him.

“Hi, Brittany.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She held up a perfectly baked coffee cake on a crystal plate with a crystal dome top.

Sure. She could have bought it at the bakery like most women would have. But not Brittany, local tigress, mom of two, and female in search of a long-term mate. Nope. She’d made that perfectly designed and probably incredible-tasting cake all by herself while raising her two perfect cubs and running a rather successful party planning company out of her house.

What exactly was he supposed to do with Brittany? Vic was far from perfect. In fact, he enjoyed the imperfection of himself and his family. And he could just imagine how poorly his mother and Brittany would get along. He shuddered at the thought.

“I made this just for you. My famous lemon honey coffee cake with buttercream glaze.”

“Sounds—”

“Why don’t I cut you a slice myself?” She walked around him, past Shen like he didn’t exist, and up the path to his house.

Vic watched her move. He knew if she were in her shifted form, her tail would be calling his name, swinging from side to side, twitching at the tip.

“That is quite the ass,” Shen muttered.

“Yes. It’s perfect.”

Shen chuckled, rolled his eyes. “You and your antiperfection agenda.”

Vic was about to reiterate—yet again—why he felt the way he did about anyone who tried so hard to be constantly perfect, but he was too busy watching Brittany walk into his house . . . unobstructed.

“You never leave your door unlocked,” Shen told him.

“I know.”

“Then how—”

A few seconds later, they heard a female’s startled scream turn into an angry roar.

Running now, Vic and Shen charged up the path to the house. Vic yanked the metal security door open and ran inside, down the hall, and into his kitchen with Shen right behind him.

That’s where they found Brittany with a blood-covered hand over her face, roaring at the cabinets over his refrigerator. Confused, Vic grabbed a towel and pressed it to her wounds.