more successful writer than she had realized. "What did the e-mail say?" she asked. She would read it later, but after a long day her eyes would protest the fine print of the e-mail.
"She said that the new book will be completely different from all her other books and that she's aware she's taking a big risk, but after a revelation, she just had to write this book," Leigh said. "Sounds as if she knew how dangerous writing this book would be. And her agent knew it too. He wrote back that under these circumstances, he couldn't represent her anymore."
"Check out that agent and his e-mail exchanges with Ms. Price," Griffin said.
"I already did that," Leigh answered.
She's good at her job; I have to give her that.
"But it seems they usually talked on the phone, so it's another dead end," Leigh added.
Griffin threw her large body onto the bed. No good leads and a writer who says she knows the book will be a big risk. Up until now, she had assumed that Jorie Price had gotten a few facts right by mere chance. But now she wasn't so sure. It sounded as if Jorie knew exactly what she was doing. She was determined to write this book — and Griffin was determined to stop her.
CHAPTER 5
T HIS WOULD BE A lot more comfortable in my cat form, Griffin grumbled. She was lying in wait in the small forest next to Jorie Price's house. Branches dug into her side, and the ground had never felt so hard when she had settled down to wait for prey while she was in her animal form.
She didn't have a choice, though. A ligerlike creature ambling up to Jorie's house in the middle of the day wouldn't escape notice in the small town, and Griffin didn't want to waste any time changing back once Jorie was finally gone.
The front door opened.
Griffin ducked behind a shrub of wild blackberries. Eyesight wasn't necessary anyway. She breathed in the scent that the wind brought to her. A mental picture of a stroll through the forest in springtime flashed through her mind. The unique scent let her know that it was Jorie Price who was leaving the house.
Jorie got into a battered-looking car and drove off, probably running some errands before meeting Griffin for coffee. This was Griffin's chance to take a closer look at the house. She wasn't proud of invading another person's territory in this way, but she accepted it as necessary. Searching Jorie's computer hadn't amounted to anything, so they needed to do this the old-fashioned way.
Her thigh muscles, which had been ready to pounce for the last hour, stretched powerfully, propelling her toward the house much faster than most humans could have gotten there. She pressed her big body against the side of the house and listened.
Nothing.
Everything was quiet inside the house and in the neighborhood.
Looking left and right to make sure no one was watching, she took her lock pick kit from her pocket. Slowly, she inserted a pick into the keyhole while applying pressure with the tension wrench.
A moment went by. Two. Then she felt and heard a slight click as the first pin fell into position. Yeah! This is a cat's job. Griffin had always enjoyed the challenge of picking locks and liked that she needed all her considerable patience and her sense of touch to get the door open.
She listened attentively, but instead of the second click, she heard the crunching of gravel.
"Hello?" It was the voice of a human male. He was shouting through the hedge that separated Jorie's house from that of her neighbor. His steps were coming closer. "Anybody here? Are you searching for Ms. Price?"
The urge to spin around and lunge at the human like a startled tiger defending its kill threatened to overcome Griffin. Then she shoved her tools back into her pocket and sprinted around the corner before the human could appear on her side of the hedge and really see her. Well, obviously he has already seen you, or he wouldn't know that you aren't Jorie. She realized that he was probably the next-door neighbor. He must
"She said that the new book will be completely different from all her other books and that she's aware she's taking a big risk, but after a revelation, she just had to write this book," Leigh said. "Sounds as if she knew how dangerous writing this book would be. And her agent knew it too. He wrote back that under these circumstances, he couldn't represent her anymore."
"Check out that agent and his e-mail exchanges with Ms. Price," Griffin said.
"I already did that," Leigh answered.
She's good at her job; I have to give her that.
"But it seems they usually talked on the phone, so it's another dead end," Leigh added.
Griffin threw her large body onto the bed. No good leads and a writer who says she knows the book will be a big risk. Up until now, she had assumed that Jorie Price had gotten a few facts right by mere chance. But now she wasn't so sure. It sounded as if Jorie knew exactly what she was doing. She was determined to write this book — and Griffin was determined to stop her.
CHAPTER 5
T HIS WOULD BE A lot more comfortable in my cat form, Griffin grumbled. She was lying in wait in the small forest next to Jorie Price's house. Branches dug into her side, and the ground had never felt so hard when she had settled down to wait for prey while she was in her animal form.
She didn't have a choice, though. A ligerlike creature ambling up to Jorie's house in the middle of the day wouldn't escape notice in the small town, and Griffin didn't want to waste any time changing back once Jorie was finally gone.
The front door opened.
Griffin ducked behind a shrub of wild blackberries. Eyesight wasn't necessary anyway. She breathed in the scent that the wind brought to her. A mental picture of a stroll through the forest in springtime flashed through her mind. The unique scent let her know that it was Jorie Price who was leaving the house.
Jorie got into a battered-looking car and drove off, probably running some errands before meeting Griffin for coffee. This was Griffin's chance to take a closer look at the house. She wasn't proud of invading another person's territory in this way, but she accepted it as necessary. Searching Jorie's computer hadn't amounted to anything, so they needed to do this the old-fashioned way.
Her thigh muscles, which had been ready to pounce for the last hour, stretched powerfully, propelling her toward the house much faster than most humans could have gotten there. She pressed her big body against the side of the house and listened.
Nothing.
Everything was quiet inside the house and in the neighborhood.
Looking left and right to make sure no one was watching, she took her lock pick kit from her pocket. Slowly, she inserted a pick into the keyhole while applying pressure with the tension wrench.
A moment went by. Two. Then she felt and heard a slight click as the first pin fell into position. Yeah! This is a cat's job. Griffin had always enjoyed the challenge of picking locks and liked that she needed all her considerable patience and her sense of touch to get the door open.
She listened attentively, but instead of the second click, she heard the crunching of gravel.
"Hello?" It was the voice of a human male. He was shouting through the hedge that separated Jorie's house from that of her neighbor. His steps were coming closer. "Anybody here? Are you searching for Ms. Price?"
The urge to spin around and lunge at the human like a startled tiger defending its kill threatened to overcome Griffin. Then she shoved her tools back into her pocket and sprinted around the corner before the human could appear on her side of the hedge and really see her. Well, obviously he has already seen you, or he wouldn't know that you aren't Jorie. She realized that he was probably the next-door neighbor. He must
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