Клэр Донелли - Last Licks

Ollie nodded. “You don’t think there’s a chance of . . . kittens, do you?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Sunny replied. “Shadow was neutered back when he was a kitten.” She paused for a moment with a shamefaced grin and then went on, “I am having Jane Rigsdale check it out, though, to make sure it took. When he’s around Portia, Shadow acts pretty . . . male.”

“Huh. That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Ollie laughed.

“They told me I’d find you out here,” a voice called from the door back into Bridgewater Hall. They turned to see Elsa Hogue stepping into the garden. “I’m giving up the last minutes of my lunch hour tracking you down,” she said, pretending to scold Ollie. “I expect to see you in the therapy room in fifteen minutes, ready to work—and work hard.”

Ollie smiled, sat up straight, and gave her a snappy salute. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Sunny looked from him to Elsa. She had blossomed after her persecution ended, and as for Ollie, his eyes were clearer than Sunny ever remembered, and between the pain from his leg and the healthier diet here, he’d lost some weight. It made a difference. Could it be my imagination, or is there love in the air?

Elsa walked back to the building, and Sunny noticed Ollie’s eyes following her.

Hmmmm.

“How’s the office doing, Sunny?” Ollie finally asked.

Normally, that would have been the first thing out of your mouth, Sunny thought. Maybe you have mellowed. She glanced over to where Elsa Hogue had been. Or maybe you’ve been distracted.

“Well, we finally had the computer catastrophe I’d been expecting,” Sunny told him. “I spent a good part of yesterday finding the problem and fixing it.”

The boss nodded. “And how’s Nancy working out as your backup?”

“Pretty well,” Sunny said with a grin. “With her to keep an eye on things, I have the chance to come out and see you.”

“Just don’t get too dependent on her,” Ollie warned. “She’ll be back to school come September.”

“Yeah, but a little help is nice,” she replied. “Of course, she’ll go just in time for things to pick up again in the fall.”

“So, Will,” Ollie said, suddenly changing conversational gears, “how has this big case affected the political landscape?”

“I don’t think Frank Nesbit can squirm his way out of this one so easily,” Will said. “We’re talking about a series of murders that took place over years, almost right on the doorstep of his office.”

Ollie gave Will his best poker face. “So you think Frank is vulnerable for this primary.”

“I sure intend to find out,” Will replied. “Sunny’s dad and a lot of other people in Kittery Harbor have been pushing me to make a run. That’s why they brought me over from Portsmouth. So I’m going to give it a try.”

Sunny looked on and said nothing. She and Will had talked over the idea of him running for sheriff. They probably would never have met except that Mike and his cronies had persuaded Will to sign on as a town constable. Sunny’s reluctance over the political fight had surprised her. It was as if, having fallen back into the predictability of her old hometown, she’d become afraid of any change.

Which is ridiculous, considering how much my life has changed in the time since I came back. Change is life, and life goes on, even here in Kittery Harbor, she told herself. If Will wants to go ahead and make his try for sheriff, the least I can do is help him.

“I’ve been thinking.” Ollie’s air of elaborate unconcern didn’t fool Will or Sunny. “Maybe the time has come to align my interests more with my neighbors. Think you could use my support?”

“Oh, I could definitely use it,” Will replied, his face wary.

Ollie gave him a toothy grin. “This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Will still regarded him warily. “I think it will depend on how many strings are attached.”

Ollie made an airy gesture. “We can talk, we can talk.”

Sunny glanced over at Will. And if Ollie gets to be too much, we can always remind him that we saved his life.

“Right now, we’d better get rolling,” she said. “After all, you promised Elsa you’d be present and ready to go.”

“That’s right, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Elsa.” Will took the handles of the wheelchair and began pushing Ollie back to the building.

They dropped him off at the therapy room and said good-bye, then headed for the front door of Bridgewater Hall. Rafe Warner stood behind the security desk, smiling at them. “Mr. Barnstable doing okay?”

“If he were doing any better, they’d have to invent some new kind of therapy for him,” Sunny replied.

As she reached for the pen to sign out, Patrick the cat appeared on the countertop. The black-and-white tux cat was looking less gaunt and better groomed. “He’s coming along,” Sunny said, trying to avoid his aggressive attempts to be petted. “Maybe too well.”

She turned to Will. “Would you mind doing a little scratching and patting on this little guy? I don’t want to come home to Shadow smelling of his prospective brother-in-law.”

Will sighed but ran a hand along Patrick’s back. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “In-laws can be such a pain.” He glanced over at Sunny. “On the other hand, I hear it’ll be a clear sky this evening—the only showers are meteorites.”

“Maybe we can go and watch,” Sunny said, “as long as we pick a place that’s cat-free.”