Клэр Донелли - Hiss And Tell

Not that I’m likely to find out for sure, Sunny thought. Neither MAX nor a journalism job would put a place like Neal’s Neck in my future. Not unless I married someone like Augustus de Kruk. Sunny shuddered a little. Or maybe Cale Kingsbury. Wonder what it would be like to live on a yacht?

They finished out the day’s work, and Sunny headed home, where Shadow met her at the door and gave her a brief once-over. But Sunny didn’t hear the usual background noise of the TV as she walked down the hall to the arched entrance for the living room. “Dad? You home?” she called.

Mike sat stiffly on the couch, his arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. “I called Ken Howell, trying to see if there was some way to get extra coverage about Will since he’ll be tied up in Wilawiport. Imagine my surprise when I heard where you’d been. What was he thinking, letting you go off on your own with someone like Caleb Kingsbury?”

Sunny had faced this kind of inquisition before, whenever she got involved with guys whom Mike considered inappropriate boyfriends. But the last time this had happened had to be during her freshman year in college.

She fought down the urge to laugh. That would only make things worse. “Well, Dad, I didn’t go out sailing with him,” she said. “And since the place was crawling with press and security people, I figured he’d probably control himself.”

“I’m sure that poor girl who drowned didn’t think anything bad was going to happen to her, either.” Mike harrumphed, but Sunny could see in his eyes that he’d begun to realize how ridiculous this conversation was.

She gave him a smile. “I wouldn’t worry, Dad. He didn’t ask for a date.”

“Yeah. Well. You know how these rich people can be.” Mike unbent a little. “And rich and famous, that can be a really nasty combination.”

“I know, Dad. I’ll tell you all about it over supper.” Sunny headed for the kitchen with Shadow at her heels. Mike already had the table set, so Sunny just had to get the cold dishes out under Shadow’s supervision. It was lucky that they still had leftover salad stuff for supper. A bottle of flavored seltzer, and they were all set.

Mike enjoyed the story of her jaunt to Neal’s Neck. He’d heard the stories about the rum-running and the attempt to shoot the offending wasp but was interested in the details that Sunny gave. Maybe too interested, when Sunny mentioned Randall MacDermott.

“I never met that Randall fella, did I?” Mike said when she finished. “He was one of your New York beaus.”

“Like I had so many of them.” Sunny tried to dismiss the subject.

“And you say he’s up around here somewhere?” Mike went on innocently.

“Dad, he’s ancient history now. A mistake I made.” Sunny put her fork down and gave Mike a look. “One I don’t want to revisit.”

“Of course not,” Mike hastily agreed with her. “Did you tell Will about him?”

“Dad!” Her tone of voice was enough to bring Shadow over, rising to put his forefeet up on the chair seat to see what had upset her.

They finished the meal in silence and went to the living room to watch TV. Sunny sat on the floor, distracting herself by playing with Shadow. As he crawled over her lap, he often stopped to sniff at the side of her leg—the left side, which had faced Caleb Kingsbury as they’d buzzed around the family compound in the golf cart.

Don’t tell me he keeps a captivating cat aboard that yacht of his, Sunny thought as she gave Shadow a good scratch between the ears. I don’t think you’ll be heading over to Neal’s Neck for any play dates, kiddo.

*

Shadow closed hiseyes. Playing with Sunny was always fun. But the best part of all was being able to lie in her lap, boneless, his paws splayed out, his belly up and unprotected. For most of his life and in most of the world, that would be suicide. He knew he could do it here, though, because he was safe with Sunny. She was gentle and would never let anything bad happen to him. He could utterly relax around her.

And, of course, he might also get a tummy rub.

As he stretched out, his paws just kneading the air, Shadow let his head fall back on Sunny’s left thigh. Then he turned round, sniffing. There was that fragrance again, very faint. He could just detect it . . . a combination of several scents that mixed together into something wonderful to inhale.

It wasn’t like what had happened when he came across Portia’s scent. That had just about driven him crazy. And it wasn’t like his response to Sunny’s natural scent. That made him want to be close to her, enjoy her warmth and her breathing, the feel of her hands caressing him. No, this was a made smell, like some of the things Sunny sometimes put on. Frankly, Shadow didn’t like most of those. Why mess up a perfectly good scent with some odd, made-up smell that usually made Shadow want to sneeze? But this one was surprising, a good smell he’d like to investigate.

He shifted around in Sunny’s lap, thinking. This was another one of those weird two-leg things. They were never content to let things be. They had to make things to go fast, to make hot air cold and cold air hot. Of course, they did do some pretty amazing things with food. In his travels Shadow had sometimes had to hunt for himself, and he knew how difficult that could be. But Sunny often went out and a little while later would come back with all kinds of food. When he was a kit, Shadow thought the two-legs had to be the greatest hunters ever.

Now, of course, he knew about the big houses where humans went for food. When he was on the street, he’d sometimes gone behind those places and found food for himself—some of it going bad, some of it running and squeaking when he came along.

Shadow shook that memory away. Those had definitely not been good times. Why should he even think of them, when he was having a wonderful time with Sunny?

She leaned over him, whispering, and laid a hand on his belly fur. He brought both forepaws down to trap it in place, wriggling with delight. The faint trace of scent from her leg only heightened his pleasure.

He closed his eyes, trying to memorize the combination. Whenever she came back from whatever strange two-leg places she visited, he’d check for this scent again. . . .

*

Sunny found herselfyawning before the detective show her dad liked was underway. She wasn’t even paying attention when they brought out the big plot twist before the ads for the halfway point. It was hard enough just to keep her eyes open.

“I guess I did too much today,” she said, yawning and stretching. Shadow jumped out of her lap, ready for some other game. But Sunny just wished her dad a good evening and padded her way up the stairs and to her room.

By the time she had her pajamas on, Shadow had come upstairs and joined her. She’d gambled that the warm weather wouldn’t hold up after the sun went down, so she’d opened the window before sitting down to dinner. Good bet. The temperature in the room was just right. With a sheet and light blanket, she’d be fine.

She’d just turned off the light and arranged herself comfortably when a small head butted her just above the elbow. Shadow was demanding that she open the circle of her arms and let him in. Sunny obliged, and they lay together in the dimness. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of their breathing, hers growing longer and longer until she was asleep. She dreamed that Shadow was howling in her ear: “Get up! Get up! The phone!”

Sunny opened her eyes. No sign of Shadow, but the phone was bleating away. She fumbled for it in the blue green light from her clock radio and finally got the handset to her ear. “H’lo?”