Блейз Клемент - The Cat Sitter's Cradle

Luckily, I’d had the forethought to call my friend Pete Madeira to take my appointments the following morning. Pete sometimes fills in for me when my schedule gets a little too busy, and since I’d suspected I might be staying out pretty late, I figured it couldn’t hurt to give myself a break and take part of the morning off. I didn’t feel too guilty about it, especially since it would be Saturday, and my schedule is always slower on the weekends. Plus, Pete is retired and always looking for things to do, so he jumped at the chance. I knew my pets would be well taken care of in his hands.

There were only a few people left in the restaurant when we said goodnight to Alfred and thanked him for the lovely meal. He and Alfred shook hands and then hugged good-bye. Outside, the night air was warm; there was a slight breeze coming in from the Gulf and the palmettos were waving gently.

I think I must have been waving gently, too, because Ethan took me by the hand and led me down the sidewalk toward his car.

Pointing behind us, I said, “Wait, my car ish back there.”

“Yes, I know that, but you’re not driving it.”

I said, “Oh, no way. I’m not going home with you tonight, so jusht forget it.”

He laughed. “I know you’re not going home with me. I’m driving you home, and we’ll get your car tomorrow.”

I was in no condition to argue. Plus, he looked so cute, I would have jumped through hoops for him if he wanted me to. Then I imagined myself actually jumping through hoops in my low-cut purple dress and my high heels, and that threw me into a giggling fit. Almost as soon as we got in Ethan’s car, I leaned my head on his shoulder and instantly fell asleep.

I woke to the familiar sound of car wheels on my crushed-shell driveway. My head was still plopped over on Ethan’s shoulder, and I shuddered at the thought that I might have drooled all down the front of his nice jacket, but luckily it looked fine and he didn’t seem to be utterly disgusted with me. In fact, he smiled sweetly when I raised my head and looked around.

“You were sound asleep.”

“Oh, no. How completely embarrassing.”

“No, not at all. You only snored just a little bit.”

I punched him in the arm and hoped to God he was kidding. As we pulled into the carport, I was relieved to see there were no other cars. I could just imagine the teasing I would have gotten from Michael and Paco if they’d been home to see me arrive completely snoggered and holding on to Ethan for dear life. I wasn’t sure if Paco would be home later, but I knew Michael’s shift at the firehouse would be ending at midnight, so by the time he got home I’d be in bed, all alone and fast asleep.

I was just about to turn to Ethan and thank him for a truly wonderful evening and apologize for downing so much red wine when I heard him saying my name.

“Dixie.”

“Huh?”

“Dixie. You’re home.”

I opened my eyes and found Ethan looking down and grinning at me. We were on my balcony in front of my door. He was holding me in his arms. He had carried me all the way across the courtyard and up the stairs.

I shook my head and wailed, “You have got to be kidding me. You had to carry me to my door?”

He looked down at me, and his grin widened. I felt myself falling into his big brown eyes. He bent down to kiss me, and just before my lips touched his he said, “Front door service, ma’am.”

18

I opened my eyes and tried to get my bearings. It was dark, and as I looked around the room trying to figure out where I was, I realized I was holding on to something. I looked down to find Ethan’s hand in mine. We were both lying on top of the bedspread in my bedroom. Our heads were barely touching, and our bodies were laid out at almost a ninety-degree angle to each other.

Ethan was sound asleep with his legs dangling halfway off the side of the bed. He was still wearing his dinner jacket, his tie still wrapped loosely around his neck, and I, thankfully, was still wearing my purple evening dress. I raised my head up and looked down at my feet. No shoes.

Then I heard it—a very faint knock on the front door. I sat up so fast that Ethan nearly bounced right off the bed.

He said, “What! What happened!”

“Shhh. There’s someone knocking at the door.”

“Jesus, what time is it?”

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. “It’s three in the morning.”

All kinds of thoughts flew through my head. It might have been Michael getting home from his shift. He might have seen Ethan’s car in the driveway and gotten worried, although it would have been unlike him to just come up the stairs and knock on the door. He was bound to know that would scare the living daylights out of me. He would have tried to call first. The other thought I had was: What if there actually were some bad-ass thugs out looking for Corina, and what if they’d talked to that doctor and gotten my name and tracked me down and were here to either collect Corina or their ten thousand dollars or both?

I reached over and opened the drawer under my bed. When I left the force, I turned in my department-issued gun, a 9 mm SIG SAUER, but every law enforcement officer keeps a backup, and I still had mine: a Smith & Wesson .38. I keep it inside a specially made case next to Todd’s 9 mm Glock, which hasn’t been touched since he died. I pulled the .38 out of its black velvet niche and slid the drawer closed.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “Uh, is that really necessary?”

I whispered, “You’re the one who said Corina could be mixed up with some bad-ass thugs. What if they’re here looking for her? I’ll see who it is. You stay here.”

His jaw dropped open. “What? Fuck that! No way in hell am I staying here. I’m coming with you.”

Suddenly my sweet man that never cussed was developing the mouth of a drunken sailor, but I decided to address that later. We tiptoed into the living room. Standing at the French doors was a dark shadow in the shape of a man, silhouetted by the light from the porch. As I crept forward, my gun raised at the ready, the man knocked again, very lightly. I felt a shiver go down the entire length of my body. Ethan had pulled out his phone and was about to call 911 when the man stepped back a bit to look down the stairs and the porch light illuminated his face. I recognized him immediately. It was Kenny Newman.

I made a motion to Ethan to wait before he called the police and crept closer to the door.

I said, “What do you want?”

“Dixie, it’s me, Kenny.”

“I know, Kenny. What do you want?”

“Please, I need to talk to you.”

“What you need to do is turn yourself in to the police.”

I looked over at Ethan. He still had the phone poised to dial and was staring at me wide-eyed. This poor man, I thought. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into hanging out with me.

He whispered, “Who is Kenny?”

“It’s okay. He works for me, but he’s got himself in some trouble.”

Ethan threw his palms open. “What kind of trouble?”

Kenny said, “Dixie, please. I’ll go to the police. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I just need to talk to you first.”

I said, “Okay, Kenny. I’m going to open the door, but I’m not alone, and I have a gun.”

Ethan whispered, “Dixie! You sure about this?”

I turned to him and took a deep breath. “Thursday morning I found one of my clients drowned in a swimming pool. Kenny was his pool man, and the police have been looking for him ever since. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to talk about it for our whole date. I know Kenny didn’t do it. At least I’m pretty sure he didn’t. He had other reasons to run away, which I can explain later. Okay?”