Shirley Murphy - Cat Seeing Double

"Yes, I can meet it. What time?"

"If it's on time, five a.m."

"I'll be there but I can't wait past six-thirty, I promised Hanni. An early installation, one she refuses to put off."

"If you're not there, I'll take a cab or call Dallas. You sound-tired? A bit stiff. You okay? You're not letting this thing get to you? I haven't talked with Dallas. What kind of leads is he getting?"

"It's not that. I… He's working on it, has a couple of guys in the city checking out Rupert's… Rupert's women. And, they know my gun didn't kill Rupert."

"Then you should sound very up, not like you just lost your last friend."

"I'm fine, really. Very very up. Just… dead tired, Dad. That's all. I'll see you in the morning, bright and early. We can have breakfast, if you're on time." But her voice caught, and the tears were just running down. What was wrong with her?

"Ryan? What?"

"Nothing. Honest. Pancakes and bacon. See you at five. G'night." She hung up, choking with tears. She wanted to bury her face against her father's chest and hear him tell her that everything Larn said was lies, that everything about her father was just as she had always believed, just as it should be. She felt like she was six years old again, badly needing comforting by her dad. Did anyone ever get too old for such comforting?

But the worst thing was, he'd heard exactly how she felt. He'd heard all the dismay and uncertainty that she didn't even know was there, all the stupid questions.

This wasn't like her, to let Williams lay this kind of trip on her. Williams was lying, there was no way she was going to believe him.

And, suddenly, she buried her face against Rock and bawled.

It was 4:40 in the morning when Ryan pulled into Peninsula Airport, parking in the short-term lot. She left Rock in the cab of the truck, cracking the windows and locking the doors, and hurried into the lobby hoping Dad's flight was on time. She didn't like leaving Rock very long on that expensive leather upholstery.

The big dog hadn't offered, so far, to do any of the damage his breed was famous for, but she couldn't forget the horror stories. Before she entered the small terminal she removed a police badge from her purse and pinned it on her jacket, a procedure highly irregular and illegal. Entering, she nodded to several security people, gave over her purse for perusal when requested, glad she'd remembered to remove Hanni's gun. She stood reading the schedule, then approached the security desk. The guard on duty was maybe thirty, good-looking, clean shaven, with nice brown eyes and no wedding ring.

"I have a security dog in my truck, I'm meeting his handler." Ryan widened her eyes, looking deeply at him. "This is… a sort of surprise for him. Mike worked with the dog for a year and then… well, he was wounded on the job and now he's coming home." She took a step closer to the counter. The guard did the same. "Would it… would it be okay if I bring the dog inside, just until flight six-oh-two-seven lands? My boss will be so thrilled. I promise the dog won't be a problem, I've been training him since Mike was hurt…"

The guard grinned at her and waved her on in. She touched his hand briefly, smiling up at him and headed for the truck.

Rock was as thrilled to see her as if she'd been gone for weeks. She hugged him extravagantly because he hadn't torn up the upholstery then leashed him and slipped the yellow vest on him that she had made with felt and a marking pen, neatly lettering Working Dog on both sides. Commanding Rock out of the truck she told him to heel, praying that he wouldn't let the strange sights and sounds of the terminal undo him. She didn't yet know this dog very well, he might have all manner of behavior problems that could surface suddenly in the very different environment of the airport.

Before taking him into the terminal she walked him a block up the sidewalk and back. He honored every command. Heading for gate B she glanced across at the guard. He gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up, openly admiring Rock. Outside the gate she settled down at the end of a bench, feeling strangely nervous at meeting her dad, trying not to hear Larn Williams's words: I don't believe the gossip… I thought of course you 'd heard… It's common knowledge… The women… you have to know about the women… I can't believe you never heard… Flannery had plenty of women… affairs with more than a few female parolees…

None of that was common knowledge, none of it ever happened. Not Mike Flannery, who had been totally committed to raising his girls the way their mother would want, totally committed to their high morals and to keeping alive the memory of their mother. Not this thoughtful man who had said to them a thousand times, What would your mother have done at your age, in that situation? Not Mike Flannery who had spent every free minute with his daughters working the dogs or hunting or riding, who had never had any free time unaccounted for, not Mike Flannery who had never given Ryan or her sisters any tiniest cause to doubt him. Growing up in a law-enforcement family, Ryan and Hanni and their older sister were not naive, they had all three been wise beyond their years, any of them would have noticed, would have known if their dad was fooling around.

She startled suddenly when Rock whined. Looking down at him, she realized she'd been rubbing his ears so hard she'd hurt him. She stroked his head softly and apologized. He whined in return, never offering to move from the sit-stay command she had given him almost ten minutes ago. Ten minutes… and as she looked out at the empty runway here came a plane landing.

As it taxied out of view to the south, she waited, heart pounding, for it to return up the long field. Watching it slowly pull up to gate B, she felt queasy in her middle.

This wasn't going to be easy, telling him what she'd heard. But then it wouldn't be easy, either, facing her dad with a murder charge hanging over her, a charge that, even if it was a setup, could affect both Dad's career and Dallas's, could ruin both their futures.

Standing out of the way she watched people flock as near to the doors as they were allowed, watched and waited nervously with her hand sweating on Rock's leash. She felt far more nervous than when, at twelve, she'd struck a ball through the neighbor's window, or when she'd let one of the pups run off and nearly get hit by a car, or the time she had accidentally fired a round through the roof of the firing range. She was far more nervous now, at seeing her own father.

Make a fuss over him, Rock. A fuss and a diversion. And don't make a liar of me, in the eyes of that security guard. Who knew when she might need to rely on that guard for some yet unimagined emergency? When he looked up, watching her, she smiled and petted Rock.

Her dad was among the first off the plane, right behind the first-class passengers. She waved to him but kept Rock out of the crowd, letting Dad come to her winding his way through, his tall, lean frame easy in a suede sport coat and jeans and boots, his familiar grin, his pleasure at seeing her.

He didn't hug her or touch her until he knew what the dog was all about.

"Make a fuss over him, a big fuss, he's supposed to be your dog. I'll explain later. His name's Rock."

Mike Flannery took in the badge on her lapel, and Rock's vest, and let Rock smell his hand then talked softly to him until Rock was dancing around him, whining and so happy with this new friend that any minute he might start barking. Dad glanced at her, laughing. "This better be good. I'll get my bags. Where's the truck?"