Софи Келли - Hooked On A Feline

Eddie gave him an incredulous look. “You had a fake ID? You? Mr. Law and Order?”

Marcus was a detective with the Mayville Heights Police Department. Pretty much everyone in town would have described him as a straight arrow. “It was during my bad-boy phase.”

Roma burst out laughing. She held up one hand and pressed the other against her chest. “I’m sorry, Marcus,” she said. “I just . . . I just can’t picture you having a bad-boy phase.”

“Hey, I had long hair and a couple of days of scruff, and I wore Docs with everything . . . and okay, so I probably wasn’t nearly as rebellious as I thought I was.”

“No, you weren’t,” Brady said emphatically. “Ever spend the night in jail?”

“Yes,” Marcus said. That got everyone’s attention. “It was during training.”

Brady shook his head. “Yeah. Doesn’t count. Ever been chased by the police?”

“Oh! I have.” Eddie waved one hand in the air.

Maggie didn’t say anything, but I noticed she nodded her head ever so slightly. Had she been chased by the police at some point in her past? It seemed about as likely as Marcus ever having been a “bad boy.”

“Who are you people?” Roma asked. “And why didn’t I know my own husband seems to have had a run-in with the law?”

“I told you that story,” Eddie said. “Back when I was playing. We were on the road in Chicago. Matts ended up naked. Remember?”

For a moment she still looked confused, then recognition dawned on her. “It was February. You were trying to snag the last playoff spot that year.”

Eddie nodded, leaning back and resting both wrists on the top of his head. “Though technically that might not count as the only time I was chased by the police. It depends on how you define ‘chased.’ ” He paused for a moment. “And ‘police.’ ”

Eddie was saved from having to explain himself any further by Nic arriving at the table with our food. The strawberry-rhubarb cobbler was as delicious as it had been when Maggie, Roma and I had enjoyed it on Wednesday. It was still slightly warm from the oven, with a small dollop of vanilla-flavored whipped cream.

No one spoke until we’d all eaten pretty much half of our desserts. Then Maggie turned to Roma, holding up her spoon as though it were a magic wand that she was about to grant a wish with. “This was such a good idea,” she said. “Thank you for suggesting we come here.”

Roma smiled at her. “I can’t believe Johnny got the band back together and no one figured it out.”

Marcus shrugged. “Maybe there were people who did, but just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

I set down my spoon and reached for my coffee. “I can’t get over how Harry didn’t give himself away.” I was pretty good at spotting subterfuge. My parents were actors and I’d learned a lot about the subtleties of body language from them. “I told him how much I was looking forward to hearing Johnny perform and all he said was so was he.”

“Which wasn’t a lie,” Roma said, licking whipped cream from the back of her spoon. “He just didn’t say he’d be performing as well.”

“Good point,” I said. “And it was an incredible surprise. I’m glad everyone who knew kept the secret.”

“You should tell Harry that,” Maggie said. She scooped up a piece of rhubarb and swirled it through the whipped cream in Brady’s bowl. She’d already eaten all of hers. His response was to nudge the dish a little closer to her without saying a word.

I took a sip of my coffee. “I will, the very next time I see him.”

Mags lifted the lid of her little teapot and peered inside, then closed it again, seemingly satisfied with what she’d seen. She looked at me and gestured over her shoulder. “Just look over at the door,” she said with a smile. “Harry just walked in.”

chapter 2

Harry, Johnny and the rest of the Outlaws had just come in. Nic walked over to them, looking around the room as he did so. He said something to Johnny, who nodded, and the group started in our direction. Ritchie had his arm around a tiny, dark-haired woman. His wife, I guessed. Paul was holding hands with his wife, Sonja, whom I knew from the library.

There were two smaller tables to our left. Nic pushed them together and quickly rearranged the chairs, grabbing a couple extra from a nearby table.

Mike was still wearing his fedora. He dropped it on the nearest chair. Roma was already on her feet. Mike grinned, raising one eyebrow at her. His face was flushed. She hugged him and then pulled back and slugged his left arm. “You are such a sneak,” she said. “I can’t believe you kept a secret like that.”

“Was it worth it?” Johnny asked.

Roma nodded. “Absolutely!”

“Your playing gave me goose bumps,” I said to Harry.

He smiled. “Thank you,” he said. He shifted from one foot to the other almost as though he was a bit uncomfortable hearing the praise.

Nic had come back with the coffeepot and was filling cups at the table.

“Do you think we could get breakfast sandwiches?” Johnny asked him.

Nic nodded. “Sure. Sourdough and fried tomatoes?”

“Sounds good,” Johnny said. “Thanks.”

Nic glanced at me and then dropped his gaze down to my mug for a moment. I nodded. He made his way over and topped up my cup and Brady’s. “It shouldn’t be too long,” he said to Johnny as he headed back toward the kitchen.

Johnny turned to me. “So?” he asked, holding up both hands. Johnny was what my mother would have called “one of the good ones.” It wasn’t common knowledge, but he was a big supporter of the elementary school’s brown-bag lunch program and Reading Buddies at the library.

“So ‘wow’ doesn’t seem anywhere near adequate,” I said.

He smiled. “Thank you. There was something magical about being up onstage with the guys again.” He rolled his eyes. “I know it probably sounds silly, talking like that.”

I shook my head. “Not to me. Both my parents are actors and I’ve seen firsthand that sometimes the whole really is more than the sum of its parts.”

Mike joined us then. “Hi, Kathleen. How’s your tooth?” he asked. He couldn’t seem to keep still. The fingers on his right hand were moving like they were still on the strings of his bass. He reminded me of my brother, Ethan.

“My tooth is fine and you were terrific,” I said.

“Thank you,” he said, giving me that little-boy grin.

“How did you manage to keep the reunion a secret?”

Johnny shifted from one foot to the other. Like Mike he still seemed to have that buzz of energy from the concert. “I still can’t believe that we did. Mostly it was just dumb luck. I figured someone would mess up and it would get out.”

“He means me,” Mike said. “Hey, Kathleen, you know those old World War Two posters you have down at the library?”

I nodded.

Roma’s husband, Eddie, had opened a hockey school in Mayville Heights. A cache of Second World War propaganda posters had been unearthed during renovations to the empty warehouse down by the river that was home to the school. Eddie had donated them to the library. I had an exhibit of the posters planned for November, and after that, they were going to be auctioned off with the proceeds going to our ongoing project to digitize all the old documents we had that were too fragile to be handled very often. The posters were in excellent shape and I was hoping they’d all sell.

Mike stuck out his lower lip and plucked at it several times with one finger like he was playing a guitar string. “ ‘Loose lips sink ships,’ ” he said, quoting one of the posters he’d seen in my office. Mike was working on researching his family tree and he’d spent a lot of time at the library recently, going though old records and documents. “Everyone thought I’d never be able to keep quiet. And you were all wrong.”