Клер Донелли - The Big Kitty

*

As the morningslowly passed, Sunny really began to worry about how badly all the negative news coverage might have hit Kittery Harbor’s tourism. E-mail traffic was way down, and the phone didn’t ring at all.

At this rate, Ollie the Barnacle will have a whole new—and justifiable—reason to fire me, she worried.

As she sat at her desk, laboring through the tedious task of updating the website’s software, Sunny could look out the plate-glass window and see Kittery Harbor PD cruisers passing by at irregular intervals. Ben Semple she knew already, and repetition made the other officers on the day shift become familiar, at least by sight.

Sunny decided to stay barricaded behind her desk rather than going out for a snack, unable to decide whether to be comforted or annoyed by so much police attention.

Just as the noon hour approached, she got a visit from the week’s biggest tourism spender—Raj Richer.

“I wasn’t sure the office would be open,” he said. “But then I noticed you in here as I walked by.”

“Just putting in a few extra hours. How’s your genealogy research going?” Sunny asked, only to get a shrug.

“There are some possibilities,” Raj said, “but I would have to get more of our family records before I could pursue them.”

“Ah,” she said, trying to keep disappointment out of her voice. “I guess you’ll be leaving soon.”

“Not for a few more days,” he replied. “In fact, I’m here to make another payment.”

More big bills came out of his wallet. Sunny made out a receipt and put the money in the cash box. “So you’re enjoying your stay?”

“It’s restful,” Raj said. “It’s been nice for a while to escape from business—which reminds me—”

He opened a leather portfolio and removed several sheets. Sunny saw Oliver Barnstable’s letterhead on top, then in large letters, “Investment Opportunities.”

So Raj was the rich out-of-towner that Will had seen lunching with Ollie.

“I wanted to return these.” Raj put them on Sunny’s desk. “Please forgive me for leaving them with you instead of delivering them to Mr. Barnstable in person. He is a very persuasive man, with an interesting vision for this town. However, after the unpleasantness yesterday, I’m reluctant to make an investment.”

Raj leaned over to pick up a copy of the newly published issue of the Crier . “I saw this when I went out for breakfast this morning. It quite shocked me to read that the building that burned down—the one the drug people were using—had belonged to Mr. Barnstable.” He shook his head in distaste. “Really, I don’t think this is an appropriate situation for an investment at this time.”

“Do me a favor,” Sunny told him. “Don’t mention that to Mr. Barnstable.”

Raj glanced over at her. “I also read the issue with your article. Very interesting, I thought. The whole state of affairs must be very difficult for the family—Spruance, is it?”

“I don’t know if there’s much of the family left to be upset,” Sunny told him. “The father died some years ago, and Gordie—Gordon—was an only child.”

“Somehow that makes it even sadder.” Raj paused for a second as if searching for words. “There was another article, insinuating that there have been attempts to intimidate you?”

“A couple of … things happened,” Sunny said, trying to keep from getting too specific. “Upsetting, maybe, but I try not to get too excited about it.”

As she spoke, one of the town’s dark blue patrol cars came by. Constable Semple was behind the wheel and actually waved at her. When Sunny nodded back, Raj turned to see what she was looking at, a smile tugging at his lips. “Well, it seems the local police take a more serious position on these matters.”

He said good-bye, and the hands of the clock at last reached noon. Sunny hesitated for a moment. She had promised to call Will so that he could escort her home before she set off. But he’d looked so tired, maybe she should give him a little more time …

As she dithered, Sunny watched the minute hand pass beyond noon, and realized something that made her smack herself in the forehead. She’d forgotten about all that cash Raj had given her—and with Saturday hours, the bank was now closed!

Guess I’ll have to take the cash box home again, she thought, dialing Will’s number.

Will sounded reasonably coherent when she finally rang him up. “Be there in a few minutes,” he promised.

Soon enough, she spotted his black pickup on the street outside. Will flipped up his sunglasses and gave her a smile. Sunny already had everything on her desk turned off. She tucked the cash box away in a bag, came out, locked the door, and headed for her dad’s truck.

The loud honk of a horn sounded as she reached for the door handle. Sunny turned around to catch Will pointing at the ground under her truck and shaking his head emphatically.

Sighing, she dropped to the pavement as he’d shown her to look for bombs.

“You okay, ma’am?” a young voice said from above her. Sunny looked up to see a twelve-year-old in a Boy Scout uniform hovering anxiously over her. “Are you feeling ill? Do you need help getting up?”

Even when she told him she was fine, he still offered a hand. “I thought I dropped something and went down to look for it,” Sunny lied to make him go away. When she glanced over at Will, he was cracking up behind the wheel.

Sunny did her best to ignore him as she climbed into the truck.

The ride home was uneventful. They talked for a few minutes about plans for the evening when Sunny pulled up in front of her house. Once again, Will waved good-bye when Sunny was inside the door.

She said hello to her dad and Shadow, went to the kitchen, dug out a block of low fat, low-sodium cheddar, and used the toaster oven to make grilled cheese.

It wasn’t an outstanding lunch, and neither was the table talk. Sunny apologized for having such a dull morning. Mike was interested when she gave him the new edition of the Crier , though, saying, “Extra! Extra!”

Sunny collected the plates and washed them. Then she joined Mike in the living room, sitting on the floor to play with Shadow. The cat had devised a new game.

*

Shadow backed upalmost to the box that held cold things. Then he crouched low and sprang into a run, through the kitchen doorway and down the long hallway that led to the front door. The kitchen floor was shiny and a little slippery under the pads of his feet, but he got better traction on the wool runner in the hall. His legs ate up the distance until he was almost to the archway that led to the room with the couch and picture box. Then he launched himself into the air, ignoring the twinge in his side as he twisted in mid leap, extending his forepaws to catch the side of the arch about six inches off the ground. At the same time, he brought his rear legs down on the plaster and pushed, caroming off the entranceway and sailing in to make a perfect landing in Sunny’s lap. He didn’t even need claws to grab on to her jeans. He scrambled to his feet, looking up at her laughing face above him, and then climbed over her leg, dashing down to the kitchen to start the wild race all over again.

After about a dozen repetitions, Shadow had burned off his burst of energy and lay down beside Sunny. He arranged himself on the rug so that his furry shoulder and flank leaned against Sunny’s denim-clad thigh. Nice. Warm. Comfortable. Just the way he liked it.

Then Sunny’s hand descended to pet him. Perfect.

*

Sunny glanced upat her father as she ran her fingers through Shadow’s gray fur. “Looks as if he’s healing pretty quickly,” she said.