Софи Келли - Faux Paw

“Okay, if we can’t reopen, can I at least get into the building to get a couple of things from my office and clear the book drop?” I asked. “It has to be overflowing by now.”

Hope nodded. “I don’t see why not. If you call Mr. Solomon I’m sure he’ll clear you with the security guard. Why don’t you come by about nine thirty or so?”

She was trying just a bit too hard to keep things light, but I just smiled and thanked her.

Hope finished her coffee and we talked about the water levels and how lucky the town was that there hadn’t been any real flooding this spring. She gave Micah one last scratch behind the ear and stood up, yawning again as she tipped her head toward one shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s not the company. It’s just been a long day.” She handed her cup to Marcus. “Thanks for the coffee.” Then she looked at me. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I’ll walk you,” Marcus said, getting to his feet again. He glanced at me. “Be right back.” He and Hope disappeared around the side of the house. I could hear their voices, too low to make out the words.

Micah studied me from her seat on the bench. Then she jumped down, came across the deck and launched herself onto the swing, timing her jump to match its slight sway. “Mrrr,” she said softly, tipping her head to one side inquiringly.

If it had been Owen or Hercules sitting beside me, I would have convinced myself the cat was asking if everything was all right.

Micah put a paw on my lap and continued to give me that look.

Feeling a little silly, I leaned toward the cat. “Marcus doesn’t like Gavin,” I said, keeping my voice low, because after all, I was talking to a cat. “Why?”

“Mrrr,” she said again, pawing the leg of my jeans. I had no idea what she meant.

“You and Hope are awfully friendly,” I said.

The little tabby turned and looked at the back door before resting her chin on my leg next to her paw. I “spoke enough cat” to know that meant “scratch behind my ears.” So I did.

“Hope has been to the house a lot.”

Micah opened her eyes, looked at me and then dropped her head back onto my lap.

“I sound jealous, don’t I?” I said. Did I actually think I was having a conversation with her?

I had conversations with Owen and Hercules all the time, which I told myself was just a way of thinking out loud. But the truth was, deep inside I did think they understood what I was saying. Was it really that far-fetched to think a cat who could walk though walls or disappear at will would also be able to follow a conversation?

“It makes sense that Hope would be out here,” I said to the little cat. “She works with Marcus. It’s just that . . .” I shifted in my seat, trying not to disturb her. She opened one eye, looked at me as if to gently chastise me and then closed it again. “Why didn’t he ever say so?”

Marcus was very private person. So much so that it had been a big stumbling block to our relationship getting off the ground.

“And what’s taking him so long?” I whispered.

Micah meowed softly without opening her eyes, and Marcus came around the side of the house. He sat down beside me. The cat sat up, stretched, shot me a look and jumped down to the deck. Then she disappeared down the steps and into the backyard.

Marcus put his arm around me. “Sorry that took so long,” he said. “There were just a couple of things we needed to talk about that had to do with the case.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “Micah kept me company.”

“She likes you,” he said.

I leaned my head against his shoulder. “The cat or Hope?”

“Well, both, but I was talking about Micah.” I felt his lips brush my hair. “I think Maggie is right. I think maybe you are the Cat Whisperer.”

Maggie had given me the nickname for my ability to get so close to Lucy and the other cats in the feral cat colony that called the old carriage house out at Wisteria Hill, where Roma now lived, home. And she had jokingly dubbed Marcus my sidekick, the Cat Detective.

“Well, I am pretty much a cat person,” I said lightly. “But I do like Hope as well. And so does Micah, it seems.”

The moment the words were out I was sorry I’d said them. There was a sour taste at the back of my throat. I was fishing, and I didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend.

“She’s been out here a few times,” Marcus said, “you know, when we’ve been working on a case.”

“That’s what I thought.” I leaned forward and picked up my cup. “I should get going,” I said, standing up. “Who knows what Hercules and Owen could have gotten into, and I need to call Everett and see how he wants to handle the building being closed.”

Marcus reached out and caught my hand. “The cats are fine, and couldn’t you call Everett from here?” The space between his eyebrows was furrowed into two frown lines.

I turned to face him, setting my mug on the deck railing and rolling my arm in his grasp so I could link my fingers through his. “You and Hope work together a lot. You’re close,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” he said. There was just a hint of color on those gorgeous cheekbones.

“Close as in colleagues who work together a lot or close as in this?” I held up our clasped hands.

“I should have told you sooner,” he said. “We went out a few times. Before us. Before I even knew you.” To his credit, he didn’t look away.

“So why didn’t you?” I asked.

He swiped a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I don’t know. I didn’t want things to be awkward. The longer I waited, the harder it got. I’m not good at sharing personal stuff. You know that.” He did look away then and swallowed hard. “I am sorry.”

I leaned over and plinked the middle of his forehead with my thumb and index finger.

“Ow!” he exclaimed.

I dropped back down beside him on the swing. “What did you think I’d do when you told me? Jump on Hope’s back, pull her hair and yell, ‘Keep your hands off my man!’”

“No,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “Probably not.”

I leaned back and started the swing swaying slowly back and forth. “My mother, on the other hand, would be perfectly capable of doing something like that, but she’s not here.” I nudged him with my shoulder, smiling at him because I felt better.

“I know,” Marcus said with a wry smile. “She made it very clear what would happen if I made you unhappy.”

I kissed his cheek. “Lucky for you that you make me very happy.”

“Lucky for me, period,” he said, turning his head so my second kiss landed on his mouth.

I could have stayed there for another half an hour just kissing him, because oh my, could he kiss, but I made myself pull away and stand up. “I really have to call Everett,” I said. “I’m sorry. And talk to Gavin, and I need my computer and my date book so I can keep everything straight.”

Marcus got to his feet as well. “Why do you need to talk to Solomon?”

“You heard what Hope said.” I started for the back door, looking around to see if Micah was close by and wanted to come in. I didn’t see her. “The insurance company wants to keep the rest of the exhibit in my library until the museum cleans up after that sprinkler malfunction. I don’t want to stay closed for another two weeks. Maybe he can satisfy them and we can find a way to open.”

My phone was lying on the kitchen table. I picked it up and sent a text to Gavin asking if we could meet for breakfast to talk about things at the library. He texted right back suggesting Eric’s first thing in the morning.

“I could join you,” Marcus said, leaning against the counter as I pulled on my sweater.