“Me? No.” He gave me an embarrassed smile. “I’m completely unqualified for that kind of work. But John Eames does it every day.”

Dr. Eames. Of course. He was the geneticist Dr. Carver had been working with for the past few years, analyzing werecat DNA after hours in the lab where Eames worked. They were trying to find a way to increase the number—or at least the percentage—of tabbies born. Instead, they’d discovered a recessive gene present in all strays’ DNA—a verifiable difference between natural-born werecats and strays. With his lab already prepared for such testing, we’d have the results in very short order.

My father nodded decisively. “Do it,” he said to Dr. Carver. “Faythe, go with him and make sure Kaci cooperates. And find out what she remembers about the day her mother and sister were attacked, and what she knows about the female hiker.”

I frowned and met my father’s eyes. “I’ll find out what I can about her family, but Daddy, I don’t think she’s ready to talk about the hikers yet.”

“Ready?” Malone glanced around for support from his fellow Alphas. “Being ready doesn’t figure into this equation. If she doesn’t tell us where the woman is, the humans might find her first, and then we’re all screwed.”

“We’re screwed just as hard and fast if I ask her and she freaks out and stops talking,” I pointed out, oddly pleased by Blackwell’s shocked reaction to my phrasing. But I was just expanding the metaphor Malone had started.

“Do you honestly think that will happen?” Uncle Rick asked, shoving both hands into his pockets as he eyed me in skepticism.

“Yeah, I do. She’s been listening through the walls all day and has figured out that you guys are lobbying to have my head detached from my body for defending myself.” My glare settled on Malone for that one. “She’s a kid, not a moron. She has no reason to think you’ll go any easier on her, ergo she has no motivation to tell us what happened. And she sure as hell has no reason to lead you to the proof needed to put the noose around her neck. Frankly, I can’t say I blame her on that one.”

Malone huffed in disgust, and even my father scowled. “Fine. Find out what you can about her family and we’ll keep looking for the other hiker. But if we haven’t found her by nightfall, you’ll have to ask her about it. And you’re going to have to make her answer.”