Клэр Донелли - Catch As Cat Can

“Welcome to the wonderful world of acting,” Abby told him with a laugh, “where the people have to look perfect while scraping by on a waiter’s salary. Trust me, you learn to take care of your clothes.”

“But you’re not doing that anymore,” Mike said.

“It still comes in handy.” Abby’s smile turned impish. “I had to use that trick for a partner who had a disaster right before heading to court. That twenty minutes probably did more for me with the firm than the year of paralegal stuff I’d been doing.”

They enjoyed coffee and cake, with Abby telling some stories about her adventures on the Left Coast. Will just sat back and relaxed, barely asking any questions at all, and Sunny tried to do the same, although curiosity led her to dig a little deeper when Abby mentioned a catering job where she met George Clooney.

Finally, Mike looked at his watch. “I hate to be a party pooper, but we have an early morning tomorrow.”

“I usually hear that when the weather’s warmer and you want to catch fish,” Mrs. M. told him.

Mike shrugged. “Close. Tomorrow we’re trying to catch some fishermen. Sunny’s thinking of interviewing a few of them over a cup of coffee and selling Ken Howell on a story for the Courier .”

“Good luck with that,” Helena said. “From what I remember of my Vince’s fishing buddies, having coffee with them won’t be like cocktails with George Clooney.”

They got their coats and walked back home. Mike zipped ahead to the door. “I’ll say good night here, Will. Darned coffee.”

That left Sunny and Will together for a proper good-bye kiss. She was still smiling as she came through the door, to find Shadow on guard in the hallway. He wound his way around her ankles, his tail flicking about in displeasure.

Is he catching a whiff of Toby? she wondered. Or is this just general annoyance?

Shadow was very much a creature of habit. He didn’t like the human members of the household gallivanting off after dark, and he took a dim view of Sunny and Mike preparing for bed hours before their usual time.

Still, he shouldered his way around the door and into Sunny’s room as she turned down the sheet, blanket, and quilt. A quick leap brought him into bed with her, but he didn’t settle down in her arms as he usually did.

Instead, Shadow brought his face close to hers.

“Checking for garlic again?” Sunny teased. “I brushed my teeth just now—promise.”

Shadow slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. Sunny had read somewhere in her cat research that this behavior was a sort of air kiss, a sign of trust and affection.

“So all is forgiven, huh?” Sunny brought her own eyelids down in a slow blink. Shadow gave her his double-barreled wink again and then snuggled against her.

Yeah, yeah, very affectionate, Sunny thought. But we both know that as soon as I’m really asleep, you’ll be off patrolling the house.

9

Shadow crouched inthe upstairs hall, his tail lashing the air. The house was still deep in darkness, but Sunny and the Old One were both up and talking, hours before their usual time. Shadow wasn’t quite ready to call this a bad thing, but it was certainly out of the ordinary. He didn’t like when two-legs started fooling around outside their schedules. It often meant trouble. For instance with all this running around, suppose one of them forgot to feed him?

He followed them into the kitchen, keeping a suspicious eye on them as he watched them eat. At least Sunny got up and put food and water in his bowls. When they finished and ran water over their bowls and eating things, Shadow ambled over by the door. The Old One surprised him by venturing outside and getting into both of the go-fast things, making them rumble. He came back with his mouth wide open, putting a hand in front of it as he opened the door. Shadow saw humans do that sometimes when they were tired and took advantage of it, darting past unseen.

It was cold and dark, but he could see well enough. Now he had a choice to make. He wanted to go along with Sunny on this strange dark-time adventure, but her go-fast thing was very hard to get into. Still worse, she’d been on her guard these last few days, either keeping him from getting out or catching him and putting him back inside when he tried to ride along.

The Old One’s go-fast thing, on the other paw, had a big, open space in the back, very easy to jump into.

I’ll just have to hope they’re going to the same place, Shadow decided. He came to that conclusion just in time, hearing two-leg voices coming closer to the door. Shadow gathered himself and sprang up, high, over the wall of the go-fast thing and landed in the open space. The metal floor vibrated slightly under his paws. He was never sure if go-fast things were alive or not. They moved, and they made a noise sort of like purring, but they only did that when a human climbed inside them. Otherwise, they seemed to sleep a lot, even more than a cat. And they never seemed to wake up when Shadow crept up and pounced on them.

But that was something to think about for another time. The go-fast thing rocked as the Old One climbed inside, and soon they were moving. Shadow’s plan had worked out perfectly.

Except for one thing.

I should have eaten more when Sunny put out my food, he thought. They may not be going to the place where the Generous One gives out fish.

*

Kittery Harbor didn’thave a rush hour like New York, although there were times when the roads got busy with people off to early jobs in the navy shipyards in Portsmouth. But Sunny and her dad were heading into town even before that modest surge in traffic. This was more like the times when she worked the graveyard shift on the newspaper, driving off in search of a story in the dead of night. Usually, that meant something unpleasant: a car accident, a fire, a crime committed or a criminal caught.

Better not think that way, she scolded herself. You want to look like the eager young reporter hoping to sell a story on local fishing.

For the fourth time since she got in the car, she stifled a yawn. Right. Yeah. Eager. She took a deep breath, trying to get some more oxygen to her sleep-deprived brain. Maybe not as young as I’d like to think anymore.

This looked to be a long day. Sunny sincerely hoped she wouldn’t get one of Ollie Barnstable’s random supervisory visits while she was stumbling around trying to keep awake.

She followed her father’s pickup down toward the Piscataqua River, passing the touristy piers with their convenient benches for lunching, past a more upscale marina, and finally came into what was left of the working port. Once there, it was hard to miss the neon glow of the Dockside Diner’s sign, although an occasional sputter in the letters turned that into the DOCKSIDE DI E every once in a while.

The diner was a twenty-four hour operation, but cars were pretty scarce at this time of day. The only activity Sunny could see was a crew of men tying up a small boat on a nearby pier. Was that Charlie Vane and his crew?

Sunny parked beside her dad and got out of her Wrangler. Mike was already out, pounding his arms against his sides. “Oh, yeah, cold water and an onshore breeze. Now I remember why I decided not to take that fishing job.”

They headed for the diner entrance. Sunny laughed when she spotted a hand-lettered sign in the window. COME OVER TO THE DOCKSIDE . . . WE HAVE COFFEE.

Somebody in there must be a Star Wars fan, she thought.

They entered to steamy air filled with cooking smells and got a booth by the window. Mike ordered coffee and Sunny followed suit, quickly regretting the decision as a thick, chipped mug full of viscous black liquid was deposited in front of her. Mike stirred in a little sugar. “At least the spoon doesn’t stand straight up. Reminds me of what we got out of the crankcase of my friend’s Chevy when he put off changing the oil filter for too long.”