Клэр Донелли - Catch As Cat Can

Val Overton sat a little straighter. “Garret was having problems paying the rent?”

“The fact of the matter is that next door has always been a bit of a problem location,” Sunny said, earning an annoyed look from Ollie. “The fish store seemed to be doing fine during the summer months. Lately, though, I think business has been dropping off. Maybe the local folks are eating less fish in the cold weather.”

“There won’t be any business done with that damned tape across the door,” Ollie complained.

Val Overton leaned forward and patted his arm. “Don’t underestimate how big a crowd a nice, public crime scene can draw.”

Ollie didn’t snatch his arm away, but he looked even more uncomfortable.

“And if you’re invested in any kind of home security, you might get a bump,” Val went on. “Nothing like a good break-in to make people reevaluate their locks and shutters.” She leaned back in her chair. “Now, could you tell a gal where she might get something decent to eat around here?”

The reminder made Sunny’s empty stomach rumble. “There’s a little cafe down by the docks,” she said. “It shouldn’t be too busy, this time of day.”

Ollie’s expression was almost pathetically grateful as he said, “Why don’t you take Marshal Overton over there, Sunny? I’ll finish here and lock up. You can take the rest of the day off. Doesn’t look as though we’re going to get much work done, anyway.”

*

The wind comingoff the water was like a freezing cold knife stabbing into Sunny’s face, and strong enough to make her stagger. But Val Overton just plowed ahead, apparently unfazed by the weather, until she said, “I’m beginning to see why this place isn’t too busy. Do people freeze to death before they get there?”

“Almost.” Sunny kept her head down as the wind tore at her curls. “But they’ve got a hot chocolate that can revive the dead.”

They fought their way to Spill the Beans, and Sunny took her usual wintertime table, the one directly under the heater. The waitress brought her a hot chocolate before she even ordered.

“I think I’ll have the same,” Val said, looking on as Sunny spooned up some thick brown cocoa from under its cover of whipped cream.

“They do a sandwich with home-baked ham and their own hot mustard on farmer’s bread.” Sunny rolled her eyes as she took a sip of chocolate. “It’s not like the shaved ham you get from a deli. They carve slices off.”

“Can we get two ham sandwiches, please?” Val asked as the waitress returned with a cup for her. “Breakfast doesn’t seem to stretch as long as I’d like when I’m doing cop things.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, shedding their parkas and letting the heat penetrate their chilled faces and hands. Then the sandwiches arrived, mounded high with thick slices of ham. Sunny took a bite, savoring the way the spicy mustard blended with the salt from the ham and the sweetness of the brown sugar glaze.

“Mmmmm,” Val Overton mumbled as she chewed and swallowed. “Worth a trek through the Arctic. And you’re right about the reviving powers of this chocolate.” She took a sip, put down her cup, and sighed. “So, tell me about your boss.”

I think she’s taking Spill the Beans a bit too literally, Sunny thought. Is she after one of Ollie’s business connections?

Aloud, she said, “With Ollie, what you see is what you get. He can be gruff, sometimes unreasonable—”

“I’m going to cut right to the chase,” Val interrupted. “Is he single?”

Sunny was glad she didn’t have a mouthful of chocolate. Otherwise, it might have come spewing out her nose. “Ollie?”

“Yeah. Slightly older guy, reddish hair, blue eyes . . .” Val grinned. “Pink face.”

“You’re interested in Ollie Barnstable?”

“We can’t all get guys like Will Price,” Val said. “So, is he taken?”

“I can’t speak for Ollie,” Sunny said. Especially about this, she added silently. “He broke a leg not too long ago and wound up in rehab. I think he’s been seeing one of the therapists.”

“Good. Then he must be used to taking orders.” Val laughed at the look on Sunny’s face. “Oh, come on, loosen up. I’ve got a job that sends me traipsing all over a pretty big state. Unless I want to pick up guys in hotel bars, it isn’t easy to meet people. Do you think Ollie might go out with me?”

Sunny took a bite of her sandwich to chew that one over. “Frankly,” she said as she finished, “right now I think you’ve got him scared to death.”

“Yeah.” Val looked a little repentant. “I overplayed the whole serving papers thing.” She grinned. “But his expression was so priceless.”

“He takes this stuff seriously. After all, he is a businessman.”

“Okay, okay,” Val said. “I promise to be nicer to your boss.”

“It could be the difference between honey and vinegar in drawing the fly,” Sunny said.

Silence fell as they devoted themselves to their sandwiches, until Val, putting her napkin down, said, “Speaking of honey, does this place do any good desserts?”

Sunny smiled. Here was a person after her own heart. “Do you like whoopie pies?”

“Those cookie things with the whipped cream?” Val asked.

“If you have to ask like that, you haven’t had a real whoopie pie,” Sunny told her. “But they have them here.”

“Oh, really?” Val purred. “You know I’ll have to test that.”

Sunny nodded. “And maybe another cup of chocolate.”

6

Shadow glared downfrom his vantage point on top of the refrigerator, his tail lashing in aggravation. Usually, this was his place to look down on the world and those crazy two-legs. But today it felt more like a refuge.

The Old One had come home all sweated up, something that always baffled Shadow. How did he manage to do that when it was freezing out? It had looked to be a typical day. The Old One had gone upstairs and washed himself off so that he didn’t smell so bad, sitting on the big chair and drifting off into a nap, which was fine with Shadow. He did the same.

But when the Old One got up and fixed himself something to eat, he put the picture box on. Shadow hadn’t paid attention. He’d made a nice warm spot for himself, creating a sort of cave with a blanket. The last thing he expected was for the Old One to jump up and run to the box. The sound came louder, killing any hope of a continued nap. By the time Shadow got out to see what the trouble was, the Old One had already turned off the picture.

Usually, the Old One only got this excited when the picture box showed gangs of two-legs running around and chasing a ball. Then the human would shout and shake his arms. This time, though, he sat down but didn’t go back to sleep. Instead he picked up the talking thing and began to poke at it.

Shadow was close enough that he could hear some of the voices that came from somewhere inside the device. One sounded like Sunny, although the Old One didn’t talk to her. Another sounded like the Old One’s She, and they talked for a while. But Sunny’s father didn’t seem very happy when they stopped. He talked to other humans, male and female, and just seemed to grow more anxious.

The Old One finally stopped talking, but he didn’t stay seated. Shadow wasn’t sure what to do. He and the human finally got along, but it was more like an armed truce than good feelings. Shadow didn’t trust the Old One not to misinterpret any friendly overture. He’d known some humans to kick him away when he’d tried to rub against them and make them feel better.

So in the end, Shadow had tried to follow the Old One as he paced unpredictably back and forth around the room, sometimes looking at his wrist, sometimes looking out the window.