Shiftless In Sheboygan

As the speaker droned on, Steffi Anbruzzen clutched the handbag in her lap and muttered, “My name.” SAY MY NAME!

“And last, but certainly not least—”

Finally! Steffi rested her hands on the table in the rear of the university banquet hall and prepared to stand when Dr. Tobias Underhill acknowledged her contribution to his award-winning research project.

“—and has graciously consented to become Mrs. Tobias Underhill.”

What? Halfway to her feet, Steffi froze. The curvaceous blonde who trotted across the stage to join Dr. Underhill was one of the postdocs from the research team. What about me? The time and energy Steffi had devoted to his project flashed in her mind like calendar pages in an old movie. Without her preliminary observations, would he even have undertaken the study?

The white-haired professor beamed like a besotted boy when his fiancée flashed a diamond that triggered a standing ovation.

ENOUGH!

The room turned red. Rage thudded against the inside of Steffi’s skull like lava inside a volcano. CONTROL! CONTROL! The voices of her OASIS Mentors thundered in her brain. Control! Control! CHANNEL!

She pushed the clawing monster deep into her gut and scrambled through the audience to the nearest exit. Outside the hall, she paused. Control. Channel. She had to shape-shift. And soon. But not here in the middle of campus where a Simple Human might see her.

Where then? She scanned for cover. Trees! GO! She ripped off her shoes and sprinted toward the tall trees on the opposite side of the parking lot.

Leaping over a low hedge, she plunged into the greenery.

Control. Control. Channel. Focus. LIONESS.

When she squeezed her eyes shut, the shape appeared, mighty and fierce. Shift! NOW!

She threw back her head and opened her mouth. Instead of a satisfying roar, no sound emerged. Weird. She tilted her head. An eerie blackness surrounded her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she peered into emptiness.

What’s happened? Where is everything? Ever since she’d set fire to her crib during an infant tantrum, Mentors dispatched by the Organization to Assist, Support, and Inform Shape-shifters had trained her to manage the emotions that fueled her ability. Everyone at OASIS feared what she could do if she lost control as an adult.

I tried my best, but I couldn’t… Instead of shape-shifting, she must have unleashed her rage with catastrophic results. Annihilation. A sob caught in her throat. Images of her family burned into her awareness. Libby’s sweet smile. Dayzee’s bright eyes. Mom’s open arms. Dad’s goofy grin.

Gone. And not simply family. Everyone. Every living being. A fresh torrent of grief mixed with guilt washed through her. Billions of lives. Everyone and everything. I’ve destroyed it all.

Tears filled her eyes. She rubbed her nose and blinked. Fuzzy nubs, not fingers. Pads, not a palm. When a claw dug into her nose, she hissed and set the paw down in front of her. Retractable claws. She’d felt none of the muscular and skeletal realignment that accompanied a shift—must have been too angry to notice—but she had shifted. Thank God!

Relief streamed into her muscles. The world, every thing and every being in it, still existed.

She stared into the darkness. Where, then, was she?

A long stretch disturbed a slight weight on her back. When she brushed her whiskers against the barrier, a familiar vanilla, citrus, and rose fragrance bombarded her brain, and she sneezed. Her feline sense of smell was much more sensitive than her human one.

She inched along a smooth, dark surface. Her toe pads bumped into something cold and hard. She pressed her nose against the object. Her tongue flicked out and tasted metal. Tiny edges. Zipper! In her human shape, she would have laughed.

Steffi sat back on her haunches, licked a paw, and washed her face. She’d been in too much of a rush to strip before shifting. Must be stuck in her dress. But her lioness was bigger than her human. Should have ripped her way out of the garment. Yet, when she stood, folds of loose fabric drooped on either side of her. Maybe this fabric had some sort of superstretch. No sense thinking about that now.

Get out! Follow…the…zipper-tooth road—aha!

She found an opening, pushed her head through, and wiggled her body free. The scents of spring grass and early flowers soothed her frazzled nerves. A full moon floated above the trees. The chirping of spring peepers counterpointed human and automotive noises from the nearby parking lot.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

If she’d had arms, she would have embraced the night and everything in it. She should return to her human shape and head back to the hotel, but first she would take a stroll and use the heightened senses of her lioness to enjoy this wonderful world.

The hedge that bordered the park looked higher than it had when she’d jumped over it. Moonlight revealed white mitts instead of big golden paws.

“Meow?”

She barely felt the soft sound emerge from her throat.

Steffi’s brow lifted. Ohmigod! She wasn’t a lion. She was a cat. She lifted one paw for inspection. Not even a full-grown cat. A kitten. Even worse.

She sniffed. If she walked in the park in this shape, she’d be a strolling snack for nocturnal predators.

Relax. Cat to lion. Nothing to it. Closing her eyes, she visualized a powerful beast—it helped to imagine sinking sharp teeth into Dr. Tobias Underhill’s bony arm. That would wipe the smirk off his face.

Nothing happened.

No need to panic. She drew a few deep breaths. Under normal circumstances, she could shift directly from one animal shape to another, but controlling her anger must have taken a toll. All right. She would return to her primary shape—her human—slip into her clothes and drive back to the hotel. Definitely the smartest move. A lioness prowling in a public park might attract unwanted attention from Simple Humans. Resting her paws on the grass, she closed her eyes and focused on Steffi Anbruzzen: chin-length dark hair, longish face with two slashes of eyebrows, decent nose, mouth a bit too big, square jaw.

With every breath, muscle and bone should have lengthened into a skinny torso, strong arms, and long legs. But her chest did not expand into a generous bosom. Her pelvis did not drop and curve. Capable hands and big feet did not replace those stupid kitten paws.

Damn you, Tobias Underhill! Tonight’s event had marked another celebration of Underhill’s research. In his book and in his speech, he had mentioned everyone who had contributed to his academic achievements. Almost everyone.

Damn, damn, double damn you.

Cold fear trickled down her spine. Returning to the human that was her base shape should have been simple, but tonight, that fundamental skill had deserted her. If she kept trying and failing, she would worry more. Better rest now and try again in the morning when she was fresh.

She turned her paws. No thumbs to flex or fingers to wiggle. What if she never— Don’t think like that. Other Shifters must have gotten stuck in their shapes. OASIS surely had a remedy. They were supposed to help Shifters. It was in their name: Assist, Support, and Inform. Of course, if a Shifter was far from family, colony, or pack, who besides that Shifter would know about the problem?

She hadn’t told anyone about this trip, but Libby and Dayzee would worry if they didn’t hear from her. Libby was a cop. She’d turn the whole country inside out if she had to. Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to go that far. She could track the phone.

Steffi glanced toward the crumpled outfit that covered the purse that contained her phone. Safe now, but for how long? A kitten could guard the site, but not fend off a thief. More important, in every shadow of the moonlit park, predators lurked. Their heavy breaths rattled the air. How long could a lone kitten last?

Growling, Steffi unsheathed her claws. Tiny claws. She padded toward the sheltering base of a nearby tree. Without the protective warmth of a mother and littermates, she shivered. She would fix this shifting problem. But first…

****

“You took a nap?”

Steffi eyed her sister’s shocked face on the phone. “That’s what cats do. Plus, I was tired. Of course, I didn’t get much sleep since I woke up whenever I heard a noise. You have no idea how loud the woods can be when you’re little.”

“Sounds scary.” After inspecting her polished shoe, Libby placed it on her shoe-rack and started buffing its mate. Even though she no longer wore a police uniform, she kept her shoes shiny enough for her to see her reflection. Typical Lib.

“It was.”

“What did you do to shift back to base?”

“That’s the strangest part. I finally fell asleep. When I woke up, I ran over to check on my dress. It was still lying in the grass. Then I decided—I almost didn’t try. I was so afraid I’d fail again, and I didn’t know what I would do if…” She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to relax her jaw. If she didn’t stop gnashing her teeth, her next dental appointment would cost the moon.

Libby put down the shoe and gave the screen her full attention. “Easy, Steff.” Her voice was soft, and the golden lights in her dark eyes sent warmth. “You’re back. Everything’s okay.”

“You’re right.” Steffi hugged herself. “I’ve never appreciated being human so much.” Her coffeemaker beeped. “I still don’t know why it happened. I mean, I did get superpissed, but I controlled it. I channeled it.” She poured her coffee and added milk.

“There’s a first time for everything. Maybe this will be the last time, too.” Libby offered an optimistic smile Steffi didn’t feel comfortable returning. “Have you shifted since you got home?”

“Are you kidding? I feel so lucky to be human again I don’t want to take any chances. Also, the OASIS rep said I shouldn’t shift until my ‘problem’ is resolved.” Steffi sipped her coffee. A comforting, human ritual. “I’m sure she thinks I am the problem. Along with you and Dayzee.”

“Ah, yes. The Three Anomalies.” Libby laughed. “Bubble, bubble…” She pantomimed stirring a cauldron while Steffi groaned at their official OASIS designation.

“Anyway, I called because there’s this guy. Sawyer Montaigne.”

Her sister sat up, suddenly alert. “You’ve been holding out on us! Is he as sexy as his name?”

“Put a sock in it, Lib. OASIS has assigned him to help me. I bet he’s an ancient gnome. Will you ask Ellyn about him?”

“Why don’t you ask your Mentor?”

“Because she hasn’t been with OASIS as long as Ellyn has. Ellyn knows everything about everybody who works there.” Steffi clasped her hands. “I want to be sure this guy is competent.”

Libby picked up her shoe and took a few more passes at it. “You’re too suspicious. You should be the cop instead of me.” She placed the second shoe on the rack. “I know you and your Mentors haven’t always gotten along, but you should give OASIS credit. If they hadn’t turned up after your first shift, who knows what would have happened to us?” She frowned. “There might not even have been an ‘us’ because Mom and Dad could have been too freaked out to have more kids after you.”

Steffi lifted her hands in surrender. “You’re right. OASIS has been helpful.”

“Do you honestly think they would assign an incompetent?”

“I guess not.” Steffi refilled her coffee cup. “But this Montaigne character will know all about me, and I don’t know anything about him. Please ask Ellyn.”

Libby smiled. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll send you her number so you can ask her yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s what sisters are for, right?” Libby paused. “I hope he can figure out what happened with your shifting and why. You need to know. We all do.” The suggestion of fear skittered across her face. “Suppose this turns out to be something normal?”

Normal? Steffi gulped her coffee. “It will be the first thing in our lives that is.”

The bad joke didn’t even elicit a smile. “Seriously, Steff, suppose our ability has an expiration date. Don’t you think Dayzee and I need to know?”

“Of course you do.” Memories of her kitten entrapment frosted Steffi’s spine. “If I find out that you have any reason to worry, I’ll tell you.”

“Do that.” Libby’s eyes narrowed, and her jaw stiffened as the cop replaced the amiable sister. “And promise me that until this is fixed, you won’t shift unless one of us is with you.”

Steffi drew back her shoulders and lifted her chin. “That’s not necessary. I already told you that OASIS recommends—”

“And I know how you handle OASIS recommendations.” Libby blew a raspberry. “What if you hadn’t been able to get back to your human base this time?”

“I was. I did.”

“But if you hadn’t?” Although her delicate features made her look like a pushover, the steel in Libby’s gaze could wring a confession from The Pope. “You’d be stuck in Sheboygan. Locked up in animal control. Maybe even euthan—” She pressed her knuckles to her mouth.

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” Hard to believe this human jelly dealt with murder and mayhem on a regular basis. “I was an adorable kitten. Someone would have adopted me.” Of course, if they hadn’t— Stop. You’re fine.

“That makes me feel so much better.” Libby whipped a strand of caramel-colored hair back from her forehead. “In the meantime, I’d have filed a missing persons report, which wouldn’t have been worth spit. What could Dayzee and I have told Mom and Dad?”

Libby’s concern settled over Steffi like a comfortable quilt. “You’re a great cop. You would have found me. If it makes you feel better, I won’t shift without you. Unless shifting is part of my treatment.”

“Promise me you won’t do it alone. Please!”

“Okay, okay, but I think you’re overreacting.”

“Says the woman who spent the night as a kitten.” The tension in Libby’s mouth eased, but her expression remained serious. “I’m your sister, Steff. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Steffi gripped her phone. Although she enjoyed seeing Libby when they talked, today she ached to hug and be hugged. “Thanks for listening.”

“Any time. Keep me posted.”

“Will do. Give my regards to Tommy and stay safe.”

With a laugh, Libby brought her fingers to her forehead in a crisp salute. “You, too. Especially if Sawyer Montaigne is half as hot as his name.” She blew a kiss and vanished.

The smoky scotch at the hotel bar didn’t erase the sour taste in Sawyer’s mouth every time he reflected on his meeting with OASIS Director Richards, his uncle Mel. Upon learning that the Organization had assigned him to help the eldest of the Three Anomalies recover her shape-shifting ability, Sawyer had asked, “Why me?”

“Why not you?” Uncle Mel fiddled with the papers on his desk and spoke without looking him in the eye. “You’ve helped other Shifters recover their ability.”

Sawyer had to move closer to hear him. “And?”

“Everyone knows how tough she’s been on her Mentors.” His uncle continued to organize his desk.

According to her file, a bitch to the nth degree. An incredible pain. He’d stood by the desk and waited for Uncle Mel to meet his gaze.

“We all agree that she needs a firm, experienced hand—your hand—to guide her.” The older man’s fingers lingered near his mouth, a sure sign he was hiding something.

“What else?”

His uncle cleared his throat. “That you can keep her occupied until her recovery window closes.”

Sawyer stared at the tower of a man he’d always considered above reproach. “Let me get this clear. You don’t want me to help her. You want me to—”

“To apply your highly publicized womanizing skills for the greater good.” Every inch the Director, his uncle straightened his shoulders. “Charm her. Distract her. Do whatever it takes. Give us one fewer Anomaly to worry about.”

One fewer Anomaly— Hello!

When Stefanie Anbruzzen entered the hotel lobby, the loup-garou within him stirred, and Sawyer left his stool at the hotel bar. The photos in her file didn’t do her justice. Beneath the sconces, mahogany highlights shone in her hair. She had wide-set eyes, high cheekbones, a stubborn chin, and a mouth that would have been made for kissing if it ever relaxed. A bluish-green dress skimmed her torso and stopped above her knees. Shapely calves and ankles. When he’d made the appointment with her on the phone, her voice had been as warm as melted honey. As sticky, too, if a man wasn’t careful.

At the entrance to the restaurant, she checked her watch. Then she scanned the lobby. When her gaze skimmed past, he cleared his throat with the rumble of a low growl. Most women would have paused long enough for him to reel them in with a smile.

Another glance at her watch. She tapped her toe and spoke with the maître d’ before following him inside.

Sawyer left his drink, drew a deep breath, and approached the restaurant. She’d chosen a table in the far corner. Like most Shifters, she wanted to be inconspicuous. As if someone who looked like Stefanie Anbruzzen could ever fade into the background.

The sommelier presented the Châteauneuf-du-Pape Sawyer had ordered in advance. She accepted the choice and brought the glass to her lips, but set it down without tasting it. Too preoccupied? Too irritated? She checked her watch again, surveyed the restaurant, and shifted position as if preparing to leave.

He mentally rehearsed his opening remarks. He often began by emphasizing patience, but Uncle Mel’s instructions nagged him. Keep her occupied. Charm. Distract. One fewer Anomaly.

Lyrics from an old Seventies song popped into Steffi’s head when Sawyer Montaigne entered the restaurant. Tall, dark, and indecently handsome, he looked like he owned the whole damned hotel, restaurant included. He bestowed smiles on every female he encountered. From grandma to teenager, server to customer, they appeared ready to fall into those long arms swathed in the charcoal gray sleeves of a well-tailored suit. Despite the smile, he moved like a predator. Even from a distance, Steffi’s skin prickled beneath his power.

In a few long strides, he stood at her table. “Miss Anbruzzen?”

The flutters in her belly flipped like Olympic gymnasts. Close up, the man looked even better than he had at the bar. A wing of black hair swept over a broad forehead. His nose had taken a few punches, and thick werewolf brows brought out deep-set gray eyes. A generous mouth and a jaw like granite suggested an intriguing blend of soft and hard.

“Mister Montaigne? Or do you prefer Monsieur Montaigne?” According to Ellyn’s message, he was French Canadian.

His eyes opened wider. She’d caught him off-guard. Good.

“I prefer Sawyer.”

So he leaped to a first-name basis. Like a Mentor. At least he had better credentials. “Steffi.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steffi.”

Huge hand but a comfortable grip. “You could have fooled me.” Withdrawing her hand, she indicated not the seat he stood by, but the one on the opposite side of the small table.

Without breaking eye contact, he slipped into the chair he’d chosen. “What makes you say that?”

“You were standing at the bar when I arrived but made no effort to join me. In addition, your late arrival suggests a lack of enthusiasm for this job.”

“I understand your reasoning, but you’ve drawn the wrong conclusion.” He poured wine into the empty glass the server had provided, swirled the liquid, inhaled the aroma, and sipped. “I often learn a lot by watching clients move when they don’t know they’re being watched.”

“Then you should improve your surveillance skills.” When he did not react to the insult, she continued, “From the moment I entered, I felt your eyes on me.”

“You didn’t seem uncomfortable.” He lifted his glass and drank again. “Some women in your situation have moved from the center of the room to a less exposed side. You made no effort to do that. Instead, you advanced in a forthright but cautious manner. You must be used to people looking at you.”

“No, I’m not.” When his brows lifted, the corners of her mouth twitched, but she stifled her smile. “In my work, I’m the observer, not the one being observed.”

“Spoken like a true predator.” He sounded approving. “So you were watching me while I was—perhaps we could split the difference and start over, eh?” He stood and offered his hand again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steffi.”

She clasped his hand and let her gaze range from his head to his knees before returning to his face. “We should get to work.”

He returned to his seat. “First, let’s order.”

She set the menu aside. “Let’s go someplace more reasonable.”

“Pardon?”

“I didn’t expect my membership in OAS—” With a glance at the crowded restaurant, she substituted the public term. “—the Organization—to cover such extravagant meals.”

Sawyer sat back. “We think you’re worth the expense.”

“Please! I can almost hear a collective groan whenever they see me or my sisters coming.”

“Don’t take it personally. They don’t like dealing with the unknown. You and your sisters are Unknowns with a capital U. They respect your ability, but no one—not even the three of you—knows your limits. They also wonder how many more like you there could be that they don’t know about.”

Steffi brightened. “They’ve found others?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh.” She didn’t hide her disappointment.

“Tradition and oral history suggest there were genetic mutations in earlier times. Many may have perished in infancy or in persecutions. Others might have been driven away…or gone off on their own…like the dragons guarding their treasure. Nowadays, with more women working in science and industry, others may have been exposed to the chemicals like the ones that affected your mother’s eggs.”

She shook her head. “Well, the Organization can stop worrying about my ability until I get it back.”

Until, not if. Sawyer felt a twinge of pity at her confident word choice. Her desire to recover was almost palpable. “That’s why I’m here.” He waited for the server to leave with their order before asking, “What questions do you have?”

Her nostrils flared slightly as if she scented danger. “Do you really want to talk here?” She gestured at the occupied booths and tables, the staff weaving their way between narrow aisles.

“Why not? We have reasonable privacy. We’re not going to say or do anything indiscreet.” He grinned to counteract her somber expression. “Nobody will notice two people enjoying each other’s company on a blind date.” He paused. “We are enjoying each other’s company, eh?”

She sat back. “I’m not enjoying much of anything these days.”

So much for charm. “Of course not.” He lifted his glass. “At least, the wine is good.”

She sipped. “For the price, it should be.”

“Are you going to worry about money all through the meal?”

“When I think about how much my sisters and I have paid the Org—”

As he leaned toward her, the scent of freshly mowed pasture after a summer rain made him catch his breath, and sudden heat passed through him with the force of a kick from one of oncle Jacques’ mules. “You’ve gotten your money’s worth.”

Her dark eyes widened. “What do you mean?

“Do you have any idea how much the Organization has invested in you?”

“About the same as they spend on everyone else.”

“Hardly.” He tapped his chest. “We—the rest of us—learn from our families and the Elders of—in my case, our pack, in others, their Family affiliations. You had no one. Keeping up with you and your sisters hasn’t been easy. The Organization had to train your Mentors to teach you what you needed to know about your condition.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at the table. “I never realized…I always thought that Mentors were like regular teachers. Everyone had them.”

Sawyer spied their server. “If I’m not mistaken, our food is here.” His stomach growled as a rare filet appeared in front of him.

Steffi eyed her plate with a half smile that vanished in a heartbeat.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened in Sheboygan?”

She gripped her knife handle. “If you’d read the report, you’d know.”

Brr! “I have read the report. The facts are clear. As to why it happened and how you recover your full operating capacity—” Zut. He sounded like a technician trying to fix a computer, not one Shifter talking with another. “I’m here to help you.” The lie rolled off his tongue with surprising ease.

She nibbled a bit of chanterelle mushroom. “That’s supposed to reassure me…how?”

“Look, I’m sure you’re feeling anxious. If I were in your shoes—”

“You’re not.” She put down her fork.

“True. But I’ve handled other cases like yours.”

Her glance made him feel three feet tall. “Don’t be offended, but I’m not sure you’re up to the task.”

It was his turn to come to attention. “I beg your pardon?”

“If the Organization really wanted to help me, they would have sent someone more experienced. Older.”

He ate another chunk of filet. “I’ve worked with the Organization for almost ten years.”

“Troubleshooting but nothing steady. You took bachelor’s degrees in psychology and zoology with a smattering of business. You dropped out of vet school.” She paused. “How am I doing so far?”

He brought his hands together in silent applause. “Want a gold star for your record?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.” The corners of her mouth tipped up, but once again, a full smile failed to appear. “Since you’re so experienced, what’s your plan?”

“Every case…every client…is unique. We start by looking for external causes. A physical explanation.”

The possibility must have interested her because she looked ready to leap to her feet. “Like what?”

He shifted position as if preparing to catch her but kept his voice neutral. “Allergies.”

She brushed off the suggestion. “None.”

“Drug reactions.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t taken drugs since I was a teenager. Before then, everything was fine. I got all the standard vaccinations. Once my hormones kicked in, medicine started having weird side effects.”

A chance to establish common ground! “I know what you mean. When I was fourteen, I took something to clear my skin, but it triggered sudden hair growth. Fur popped out everywhere.” Steffi’s solemn face made him suppress his smile.

“Must have been horrible.”

Add ten points for empathy to her personality profile. “Not horrible. But embarrassing. I did miss my first school dance.”

“That’s too bad.” Steffi sipped her wine. “When I was thirteen, I had tonsillitis, and the doctor wrote the usual prescription, which helped with the tonsils, but I threw up every time I tried to…use my ability. It was worse than being sick. I haven’t taken any drugs since then. Unless you count caffeine. Or chocolate.” She stroked the stem of her glass. “Alcohol, too, I suppose.”

“Pharmaceuticals are the usual culprits. Since you’ve traveled to remote locations, you could have ingested a drug without knowing it.”

“Maybe. Do they test for anything else?”

“Viral strains. Bacterial infections. Exotic parasites.”

Steffi’s pretty lip curled.

“Don’t look so disgusted. With parasites, once you flush the bugs out of your system, everything goes back to normal.”

“Just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

“Exactly.” Sawyer imitated her motion. “Our medical facility here in Chicago can take the blood for the tests.” But not right away.

“I hate needles.” Steffi glanced at her upper arm, but the corners of her mouth softened. “Something medical. That could fix everything.” She finished her entrée with a flourish.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” As he uttered the warning, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “These problems often have more complicated, internal causes.”

“Gee, thanks. Have any of your other clients told you you’re a real killjoy?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Not that I remember.”

“Of course, I suppose it’s not all bad from your point of view.”

“Pardon?”

“The longer it takes to solve the client’s problem, the longer you get to enjoy first-rate meals and five-star accommodations.” She gestured toward the lobby. “I assume you’re staying here.”

He nearly choked with laughter. So that was why she treated the wine like poison and wanted a “more reasonable” meal. She thought he was padding his expense account. “Let me assure you, Steffi, the sooner we solve your problem the better. In fact, the longer it takes, the less likely—” The information he routinely provided slipped out before he could stop it.

Her eyes became huge. “The less likely what?”

He hesitated.

“Are you saying I only have a certain amount of time before I’m stuck like this?” Fear shimmered in her eyes.

“The sooner we start, the better. Please tell me your story. From the beginning.”

“First, tell me about this time thing.”

Damn. She wasn’t going to let it go.

“How long do I have?”

He toyed with his tie. “That depends. Health and age can be factors. Older clients have a recovery window of about three months. Someone your age should have at least six—”

“Six months? That’s all?” She stared at him.

He lifted a restraining hand. “There’s no way of knowing with you and your sisters.”

“So I might have less than six months.”

“Or more.”

Instead of whining or wailing, she tossed her serviette on the table. “We’d better get busy. I want those blood tests now.”

“The lab is closed.” No reason to mention the Emergency Unit.

“First thing tomorrow then.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He sipped his wine. “Now, tell me your story, Steffi.”

“Since you’ve read my file, you already know—”

“What others have written about you.”

Steffi crossed her arms. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

“That’s why I want to hear your story from you. In your own words.” With luck, the soothing tone that settled his nieces in for their bedtime stories would soften her defenses. “Tell me what happened in Sheboygan, Steffi.”