Cold Cat Mountain: The Peak (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Randall pressed the buzzer to his office assistant.

  “Melinda, has my lunch appointment been confirmed?”

  The youthful voice at the other end was shaky.

  “Yes sir, the restaurant called to be certain you were both still attending.” Randall pursed his lips. “You can tell them next time they ask that question I will cancel my luncheon there. I spend enough money at their establishment they should consider it an honor that I am a patron.”

  Silence from the other end.

  “Melinda I will require an answer to that. That is how this works. I cannot have a one sided conversation.”

  “Yes sir! I will communicate that to them should they call in the future to confirm.” Randall leaned back, crossing his arms over his girth. Deep in thought he considered the best approach with the only member in town. Vivette would not be in a good mood. The food was meant to be an important shift away from her nasty little attitude. He needed it to soothe him as much as he needed it to distract her. People from old money were so entitled. Randall tried to avoid them all entirely. He knew what motivated them, and their relentless pursuit of monetary gain smelled of sour milk. If questioned in private he was certain his own staff would say the same of him. They were idiots though. There was a difference between the entitled and striving for perfection. The lower class often confused the two. He rolled his neck in a circle and checked his calendar to make certain his massage was scheduled following lunch. He would certainly need it after watching Vivette swallow a two thousand dollar meal to ensure her compliance with Matilda’s latest discovery.

  He stood and examined his reflection in the large oval mirror he had purchased several years ago in Rome. His suit was perfectly creased, as always. That brought a slow smile to his face. He wondered if Vivette would respond to his advances. He barked over his shoulder for Melinda. The young blonde rushed in, anxiety marring her forehead.

  “Fetch the lint brush please.”

  Melinda retrieved the lint brush holding it out to him. He narrowed his dark eyes as he tipped his head down, rubbing his thumb over her chin dimple.

  Leaning forward he whispered, “Can I reach the back by myself you stupid cow?”

  Melinda flinched and dropped her eyes.

  Turning with his arms open wide Randall presented his back to her. Running the lint brush over his shoulders and down to the small of his back she stopped and stepped away. Randall murmured quietly. “So, you would like to renegotiate your salary? Is that it?”

  Melinda shook her head. Unshed tears glimmered behind her lashes and she knelt to run the brush over his back side and down his trousers.

  With a self-satisfied nod he moved away while she was still kneeling.

  Melinda paused, holding the lint brush, trying to become invisible until Randall exited the office.

  ~*~

  Sipping his sake Randall re-checked the time. Vivette was usually well ahead of him. Perhaps she was dreading their meeting as much as he was. He looked around realizing the restaurant was quiet. In fact, he had been informed upon his arrival he and Vivette would be their only diners. Randall had raised an eyebrow in response. That was the manageress’s way of apologizing for calling his office to confirm the lunch date. They were slow, and perhaps had considered not opening at all for the day. Her fish like eyes had unflinchingly appraised his clothing and accessories. Randall requested to be seated at the chef’s counter. Should he and Vivette run out of dialogue there was always the entertainment of watching a professional sushi chef create their luxury meal. The sake was served from behind due to his seating preference and Randall considered it a small mercy for the woman. She needed to be reminded of her place.

  She would be again before he left.

  Vivette arrived and took a seat next to him, emitting an overbearing amount of Chanel. She would never learn. Randall rolled his eyes.

  “Welcome.” Vivette placed her small hand clutch on the bar next to her and tilted her head. Her preferences included show dogs and red lipstick. The latter of which made her appear five years older than she was.

  “Welcome? It was not my idea to be available for this little crisis of yours. I just happened to be the only member of Summit left stateside. I will make certain I am in Venice for your next issue.”

  Randall shrugged, nonplussed by her chilly response. She too ordered sake and they drank in silence as the chef began sharpening his knives in preparation for their meal.

  “So? Do I have to wait for the meal to be finished or are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Randall set down his cup, turning to her. Her brown eyes were red around the rims. She’d been drinking again. Alcohol had its own signature with overuse.

  “There has been another discovery.”

  Vivette rubbed her temples. “Good God, what kind of prescription medications is the little over achiever on? I’m so sick of this.” Randall waited for Vivette to complete her rant. He slid a sidelong glance her way, shuddering delicately. She had cut her bright white hair too short. It made her forehead appear pronounced. Not her best feature.

  He hoped, as he drank another sake, the alcohol would soften her appearance. “You know as well as I do Vivette it is on schedule. However, we can’t let her run amuck and produce too many discoveries all at once. The rest of the scientific community will become suspicious.”

  Vivette dropped her right hand with a thump, her red lacquered nails popping brightly against the dark counter top. “No one else is ever going to pay attention. In fact there is only one person who has me concerned and it’s that want-to-be cryptozoologist of a bounty hunter. He is a problem. He thinks out of the box, and he knows how to search. The rest of them can go to hell.” Her agitated drawl grated his nerves.

  Vivette took another sip of sake. “He scares the scientists. He doesn’t even have a college degree and look at his drive. He’s our real problem, well, aside from Matilda. The rest of the zombies will believe whatever we tell them.” She took another drink. “Education is no longer about seeking truth. It’s about believing what you’re told and passing it on.”

  Begrudgingly Randall admitted Vivette’s logic was sound. The bounty hunter might in fact be a problem. Perhaps more so than Matilda if he continued on his current trajectory. His curiosity was different than Matilda’s. Hers was insatiable. Skid however, he was prone to expose the unknown and move on. He would finish, and unlike Matilda, he would certainly target another unknown cryptid, leaving behind an enormous wake.

  Randall sighed. “Alright. Well then by all means let this new skull be analyzed and made public.” His soft voice scalded Vivette’s ears with fresh information. In recognition of what he was saying she choked. Dabbing her mouth she turned to him.

  “Skull?” Leveling her red rimmed eyes at him she waited, drumming her ruby nails upon the counter.

  Randall raised an eyebrow, holding his sake aloft in a silent cheer. He finally had the halfwits attention.

  “Skull,” he whispered smugly. Secretly he was pleased to announce Matilda’s latest discovery, although on record he voiced irritation with her drive.

  Vivette lowered her voice. “Where is it?”

  Randall shrugged. “I assume it is with her.”

  “How the hell did that happen?” Randall grinned over the rim of his cup. “The little vixen took herself up into uncharted territory and spent the night alone, on Death Bed Ridge.” He let the information sink in as he sipped, watching Vivette’s reaction over the rim of his cup.

  She turned her sake cup in a slow circle. Shaking her head. “Alone? What kind of idiot wonders up there alone? Its reputation is almost worse than Cold Cats.”

  When Randall didn’t answer Vivette turned to face him fully.

  “Alright. So you are asking if the discoveries are moving too fast.”

  Randall laughed sarcastically. “Ding, ding, ding. And the circle gets the square.”

  Vivette’s spine straightened. His sarcasm always brought on her
anger. Tapping her index finger over her lower lip she paused.

  “The public may not be ready for what is out there. It was one thing to oversee the discoveries of the squid and the Bili Apes. But this, it is in their own back yards.” She lowered her voice. “It kills, and it could cause a lot of panic.”

  As the chef placed their plates before them the manageress snapped coldly as she passed by.

  “No photos of the food. The plating’s are all original.” Randall gently laid down his ivory chopsticks, sliding from his stool. Turning toward the kitchenette in the back he followed the young stone faced woman until they both disappeared behind the stainless steel door.

  Randall returned quietly moments later and resumed eating.

  He added some sauce to his plate and enjoyed the flavorful burst of raw fish and rice. Turning to Vivette he swallowed and motioned toward the city beyond. “I have never been convinced that it was the job of the Summit to guard secrets from the worker bees. It seems so archaic. It’s not as if it changes their day to day, or affects our bottom line. Maybe more of them move into the cities in response to it being found in their own forests. That’s actually better for us, ultimately.”

  “Economically speaking, yes. I agree.” Vivette nodded and lifted a morsel to her red mouth. “As for guarding secrets, I don’t think the sheep can handle the truth. I will check in with the other Summit members though. I’m afraid the public will panic and run, which eventually turns into more discovery, and questioning. We have been tasked with pacing what they learn for a reason. Take for instance the neoconservatives and their faith. Even you agreed at the last Summit they may not have evolved enough to allow for a God who lets monsters roam the earth. If they cannot digest the information we do release slowly we will have a mass reaction. It will affect our bottom lines.”

  Randall considered the factual and logical outline Vivette offered. He knew she might be correct, but ultimately it was not his call. It would come to a vote. Matilda’s most recent find was coming too soon on the heels of her other discoveries. It had been easier to regulate her when she had been on his payroll. However, he had other ways. Money allowed for private information to flow freely.

  “Very good. I will have the skull buried somewhere. I have safes. Vaults. It is a simple thing to remove it from the public eye.”

  Vivette nodded quietly. “Good luck getting it from her,” she murmured.

  Randall sipped the hot tea they had been served moments earlier, and dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin.

  “Consider it done.”

  He waved for the chef.

  Approaching with dignity he maintained direct eye contact with Randall, who smiled warmly. He extended his hand to shake with the chef. “Most excellent meal.” Randall leaned in while still holding onto the chef’s hand. “If I ever see her here again I will make sure your restaurant is empty every day from here on out. Understood?”

  The proud Asian chef turned on his heel without a word, retreating to the kitchen. Randall stood and offered his arm to Vivette. “Shall we?” Smiling, tipsy, she took his arm. The meal had gone smoother than he’d expected. Manipulating women of rank had always come easy to Randall. He would not have to offer affections to her after all. She had agreed to hiding the evidence while thinking it had been her idea all along.”

  As she slid into the back seat of her town car she discreetly handed him her personal card printed with her new address. As her car pulled away Randall crumpled the card and threw in to the street.

  “But, with time, one has encountered many of the monsters, and one is increasingly less terrified of those still to be met.”

  ― Kay Redfield Jamison

  ~Six~

  Blaze was seated at a rustic wooden table next to a large bank of windows. Access Grill’s name belied the reality of the experience it offered. It was a tree house. Quite possibly the most remote restaurant Blaze had ever had the luxury of visiting. Standing as high as a standard look-out tower, Access Grill had partially integrated an old growth tree, building around it rather than in it. The trunk of the tree itself dominated the center of Access Grill. At great expense the ceiling of Access was primarily glass and wood cross beams. The branches and leaves of the old growth swayed overhead in the ebbing light. The view was vast. Mt. Hood National Forest surrounded the pastel and partly clouded peak of Mt. Hood itself. A soft fire crackled in the background. Symphony music melted from strategically located speakers throughout the tree house while waiters in formal knee length black aprons moved elegantly with trays held aloft.

  Closing her eyes a moment Blaze reminded herself that Pat was right. She had not been interviewed in years. Because Pat’s father was a retired Anthropologist Pat himself had asked Blaze exactly how much change she was seeking. She remembered him leaning against the door frame of her office as she packed her belongings. Blaze stopped packing long enough to tell him she didn’t care what kind of lead he might have, as long as she was exiting Social Work. Doctor’s orders.

  It seemed in the moment that Pat was more excited than she when he explained that his father knew of a young anthropologist seeking someone to assist with research. He’d gushed about her recent discoveries, her brilliance and her tenacity. He sounded as though he would have loved to take the position himself. When Blaze sarcastically suggested it he’d shrugged, looking discouraged. He shared with Blaze that he had in fact mentioned it to his wife, but the extensive travel was not conducive for someone with a family. He made the call, and within twenty minutes he returned to Blaze’s office with directions to an upcoming lecture Matilda Bough would be presenting. Because of Pat’s father, Matilda had agreed to interview Blaze directly following her presentation at the university. When Blaze reached for the slip of paper Pat pulled it back briefly, warning Blaze it was a seriously exciting opportunity, and not to blow it.

  To that end, Blaze sat nervously awaiting a brilliant Anthropologist four weeks later. One who would likely not appreciate the frank openness of a burned out Social Worker. It was a cultural aspect of her former line of work. The stress created salty individuals who spoke openly, often without a filter. Who could really blame them? They were forced to carry dark information without the benefit of solid solutions. The least the state could do was allow an atmosphere of transparency on every other level. However, she was no longer a Social Worker. Even if her brain was still struggling with that reality. She felt her heart pant anxiously in her chest and release a surge of adrenaline. Placing her hand over her heart Blaze took a long deep breath. She exhaled on a four count with her neurologist’s voice playing on a recorded loop in her mind. “You cannot remain in Social Work for health reasons. We have discussed this at length Blaze.” She opened her eyes and looked around. Had anyone observed her tiny meltdown? She felt a claw scratch at the base of her skull. The adrenaline had stirred the monster. Blaze forcefully reminded herself that the coming interview was not meant to be an exercise in learning to play nicely with others. It was a purposeful step in the opposite direction she had come from. Away from social services. Away from real monsters. Appropriate responses and polite chit chat would be expected.

  She needed the income too. Taking a sip of water from a crystal goblet she breathed, swallowed and breathed again. As she meditated silently, willing her inner monster to remain quiet during her interview, Matilda Bough threw herself into the chair opposite of Blaze, tossing her tote bag style purse to the floor with a loud sigh of relief. Her hair was coming undone from its tight bun, and her cheeks were flushed. She looked entirely different than the woman Blaze had watched present at University. She looked relaxed. Happy.

  She considered Blaze for the tiniest pocket of time without speaking. Blaze carefully smiled and placed her glass on the table, sitting a tad straighter in her chair.

  “So, you are Blaze. You can’t imagine the things Pat has told me about you.” Matilda tucked her hair behind her ear as a waiter filled her water glass, ice tinkled in the silence.

 
; “He was not in the least flattering about you.” Matilda winked and took a deep drink from her water glass.

  Blaze froze. “What?” “Seriously, he did not candy coat your personality one iota. In fact, he said that if you hadn’t departed your employment when you did you were at risk of being fired.”

  Matilda threw her head back and slapped the table top, laughing. “I love it!”

  Circulation slowly returned to Blaze’s legs and arms as the icy coating melted from her nerves. She attempted what she hoped resembled a smile. Matilda dropped her chin onto her palm eyeing Blaze with speculation. Her light blue eyes gleamed with an impish light Blaze would have found endearing if panic weren’t knocking.

  “Tell me Blaze, were you truly about to be fired?”

  Inclining her head Blaze glanced up toward Matilda, shrugging.

  “Yes.” Her neck tensed up and she reminded herself to remain calm.

  “For what?” Matilda frowned, still smiling. Blaze was held in the crossfire of her unexpected frankness. She hadn’t even had a chance to congratulate Matilda on her lecture, and she had rehearsed that part of the interview.

  Scratching her cheek and neck Blaze realized small hives were erupting. She twitched uncomfortably. Time to be honest. There was no way out.

  Thanks Pat.

  “I told the state placement coordinator that he was a bitch.”

  Matilda flopped her hand to the table, lifting her face in shock.

  “And then what?” Blaze sighed, realizing if nothing else she would be able to share her career crash over an expensive meal. Resigned, she leaned back and scratched at her neck again, motioning to a waiter. An older gentlemen approached carrying a tray. As Blaze scratched absently at her neck, she felt heat rise between her shoulder blades.