June waited, but nothing came out of the chamber, so she stayed crouched and ready. Brendan, however, reacted with impressive speed and stuck his hand into the backpack, pulled it back out, and sent something sailing. And so, while nothing came flying out of the chamber, something did go flying into it: a package of hot dogs. June, from her vantage point, could see inside the cylinder a mop of brown hair, close-set green eyes, and a goblin-ish face.

Then the package of hot dogs hit that face with a loud, squishy, thwack before disappearing inside the cylinder. The man wobbled and something white in his hand fell out of sight. He didn’t look injured, despite taking all ten hot dogs to the face—he looked confused and alarmed.

“Did you just hit me with a block of frankfurters? You knocked my bloody towel down too. By the Queen, I’ll never get the smell out of my tanning chamber.”

June tilted her head sideways—did he just say, “tanning chamber?”

The man turned to the side, and there, crouched less than fifteen feet away, June met his gaze. The sight of her did far more to his balance than the hot dogs, and his legs must have buckled because he wobbled and caught the edge of the cylinder to hold himself up.

“Did you just call that thing June?” he croaked. As he watched her, his face went from confused to amazed. “June! June Robinson, is that you?” His eyes brightened until he looked like a man who just discovered the winning lottery ticket. “What a specimen you are!”

June felt strangely pleased by the comment. She said nothing and wondered how to handle this situation. Tense moments of silence passed while all three stared at each other. Finally, Dr. Chase broke the silence. “Can I at least get out of this thing before you eat me, or whatever you’re here to do? This isn’t exactly comfortable.”

June nodded.

Dr. Chase slid out of the back of the cylinder and pulled on a robe. He waited. At length he said, impatiently, “Well, do you have a demand, or are you just trying to calculate how many bites it will take for you to swallow me?”

“Where’s Mr. Moseley?” she growled.

Dr. Chase flinched at the sound and whirled to face her. His eyes lit up. “My goodness, your pronunciation is excellent! I don’t have the foggiest idea about Mr. Moseley, though.”

“Where is the vial?” she growled again, this time louder and in a way that discouraged any further questions.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered. “Please, I want to cooperate.”

June took a step toward Dr. Chase. Her frustration was building, and she ensured her voice made that apparent. “I know you helped rob the lab.”

“Good heavens, I would never—I didn’t rob the lab. And what happened to poor Mr. Moseley… No, I had no part in any devilry. I say, is this your mother’s way of resolving a security breach? How very unethical!”

June’s eyes narrowed. She walked closer until she was inches from his face. “Then who did?” she rumbled.

Dr. Chase shrank back against one arm of the machine and his voice went up a whole octave. “I—I don’t know. You have to believe me! When I got to the lab, the police were already there. That giant snake was out in the lab too, so I stayed in my office. I saw no one else.”

His pulse was elevated, but June couldn’t tell if that was due to lying or fear. The Burmese had been out of its cage? Then why had it returned to its enclosure by the time she and Cordelia arrived at the lab? She took a step back and turned her attention to the machine. “What’s this?” she growled, motioning toward it.

“This is a tanning chamber,” he said, lifting his chin proudly. “I designed it personally. You see, it helps me maintain my youthful appearance and top physical condition.”

“It’s a giant tanning bed?” Brendan asked. “Why so big?”

“No. It’s a tanning chamber,” Dr. Chase answered with an edge to his voice. “I wouldn’t expect a boy to appreciate the complexity of the machine.” He turned up his nose at Brendan and eyed June with curiosity. “Then this is what really happened at the lab today, eh? The commotion and the shattered window?”

June didn’t answer. Although she didn’t want to, she believed Dr. Chase—he didn’t seem like he was capable of taking part in anything dangerous. He was a blithering idiot. Yet if he wasn’t involved, and Dr. Crushov wasn’t involved, then who was? And where was Mr. Moseley and the vial? There were only three places in Seven Falls she could think of that they hadn’t checked: Aunt Violet’s house, her own house, and the lab. June felt confident Mr. Moseley hadn’t been at the lab this morning. That meant she knew where they had to go next to investigate.

“Where can it be?” she muttered to herself.

“Where can what be?” Dr. Chase asked timidly.

That brought her back to the present, and to Dr. Chase. What should she do with him now that he had seen her and knew who she was? As much as she liked to think about bringing him to an early and cartoonish demise, she knew she couldn’t do such a thing—at least, not if he was innocent. Then it occurred to her: he didn’t know that. And if she was going to have to trust Dr. Chase with her secret now, she may as well make him useful. Finding Mr. Moseley and the vial was more important than anything.

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“I bet you're wondering whether you’ll survive the night?” she rumbled.

He nodded vigorously.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. You will help us, and if you do, you will survive.”

Dr. Chase smiled. “Splendid, June, just splendid! You’ll find no one can be as helpful and astute as me!”

Brendan stiffened at the comment.

“But,” she growled, “you will keep this a secret. You have no idea what I can do and what I’m capable of.” She stretched one arm to the side and let her claws extend to their full length. She dragged them against the cinderblock wall, easily slashing a deep rut. Dr. Chase gasped and his knees started to bang together. She continued. “If you ever breathe a word about me to anyone, anyone, I will come for you and no one will ever find you. Do you understand?”

Dr. Chase gulped and nodded. He didn’t even make a self-serving statement, so June knew she’d gotten through to him.

June retracted her claws. “First, go get me some clothes to wear. Sweatpants, preferably.”

Brendan raised his eyebrows at her and angled his head. Dr. Chase licked his lips and rubbed his hands awkwardly. “Well, that will be a bit of a problem. You see, I don’t own sweatpants. I could lend you some silk pajamas, if you’d like. They have a roomy drawstring waist.” He eyed June’s monstrous midsection. “Perhaps that would work?”

“Fine,” she answered. “Bring them. But I’ll need a shirt too, something dark colored, maybe a sweater. Go.”

Dr. Chase moved with remarkable haste for someone so un-athletic looking.

“Why’d you ask for clothes?” Brendan said as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.

“We only have a few places left to search, and I don’t want to scare Aunt Violet, so this”—she put a paw on her chest—“is out of the question. I don’t want to destroy your clothes if I have to Shift quickly; his clothes, on the other hand—” She closed her paw and opened it in a slow explosion.

They reached the top of the stairs, which opened into a small family room; a solitary brown leather couch hugged the wall opposite the doorway. June could just see the edge of a polished table in the dining room nearby. Brendan flopped onto the couch, but June crouched in the center of the room on an oriental rug. She doubted any couch would support her weight.

“Are you ready to concede that your Aunt Violet is a suspect?” Brendan asked.

“No. But maybe she saw or heard something odd that might help point us in the right direction.”

“Suspect everyone,” Brendan replied. “And I’m not ready to rule out this guy.”

June shook her head, and the guy at issue reappeared with the requested clothes. Dr. Chase had thankfully put on clothes himself—gray slacks with a black sweater, and a little black beanie on his head. June thought he looked like a walking Sharpie marker.

“These should be right proper for you,” he said as he handed her the bundle.

“Stay here,” she said menacingly, and left the room to get dressed, leaving Brendan and Dr. Chase alone.

*******

Dr. Chase eased onto the couch next to Brendan. “No harm done with the frankfurters, old chap. So, are you her sidekick?”

Brendan’s ears burned and the heat spread down his face to his neck. He was thankful he still had the mask on to cover it. “Sidekick!” he said hotly. “No, of course not. I’m her partner.” Though, as he said it his mind flashed back to falling and his voice cracked slightly. He realized at that moment that he had also called June’s name out when the tanning chamber opened, which then caused Dr. Chase to figure out that the werecat in his basement was June. His head sagged and he chewed on his lip. Another screw-up.

“Right then,” Dr. Chase said as he looked at Brendan a little sideways. Brendan didn’t like the look on his face—like Dr. Chase didn’t believe him. “I gather this all has something to do with an item pilfered from the lab, eh?”

“I’ll let June field that question,” Brendan replied.

“Right, right, your partner.” Dr. Chase looked at him sideways again.

Brendan clenched his jaw but remained silent.

“So, her ability—how long has she had it?” Dr. Chase asked.

Brendan shrugged.

Dr. Chase let out a dissatisfied “humph.” Then he continued, “On her, eh, front paws, were those opposable thumbs I noticed?”

Brendan looked at him like this was a ridiculous question. “Of course. What else would she have?”

Dr. Chase shook his head a few times with a wistful look on his face. Eventually he spoke up again. “Is she a Panthera orca or a Panthera pardus?”

“Pardus me?” Brendan smiled. Too bad June wasn’t there for the joke, she would have loved it.

Dr. Chase gave him a blank look.

“You know, like pardon me? It’s a pun,” Brendan replied. Dr Chase did not laugh, but his eyebrows arched. Brendan continued, “I have no idea what you just asked me. Was it English?”

“Ah, right, I’ll stick to the layman’s speech,” Dr. Chase said. “Is she a black leopard or a black jaguar?”

Brendan shrugged again. “I dunno. Both? Obviously she’s more powerful than any single kind of cat.”

“How powerful? Or should I direct that question to your partner as well?”

Brendan glared. If this orc-looking guy said “partner” like that one more time, he might—well—he would consider—maybe—insulting him or something. What did Dr. Chase know anyway? June said he was an idiot. Brendan, on the other hand, well, he had helped June avoid Igor when she’d been Shifted. Like a good partner. That might help make up for his mistakes. And he wasn’t going to make another mistake and tell this Dr. Chase moron anything else about June that could be compromising.

A thought came to Brendan, and he realized things were coming together nicely. Because June needed to eat to fuel her body, and because Dr. Chase liked to say partner so snidely to him, then Brendan could do what a good partner should—make sure he lined up the food June needed. He leaned in a little, like he was about to share a secret with Dr. Chase. “And man, June needs to eat soon, or else. I hope for your sake you have some meat in this house or you’re in trouble.”

“Oh dear,” muttered Dr. Chase. “I still have several pounds of lamb chops and veal. You don’t think she’ll be interested in those, do you?”

Brendan couldn’t help but grin. “Oh yes, she’ll want it all.”

Dr. Chase gulped, but his eyes didn’t match the rest of his expression—they radiated curiosity.

June arrived in the room, wearing black silk pajama pants and a dark blue sweater. They fit her nicely. “What were you two talking about?”

Brendan suspected she’d overheard them, but just in case, before Dr. Chase could speak up and act like feeding June was his idea, Brendan blurted out, “Dr. Chase has lamb and veal that he wants to hide!”

Dr. Chase stared daggers at Brendan. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear. How would you like your meat prepared?”

Brendan thought he detected a hint of sorrow in Dr. Chase’s voice and he smiled to himself.