Али Брэндон - Double Booked For Death

“Not yet,” she declared, giving Darla a momentary heart attack before she added, “not until after I give you back your money.”

With the expertise of a casino cashier, the woman counted out ten hundred-dollar bills. Handing them over to Darla, she said, “Our work here is done. I’ll say hi to your sister for you when I get home.”

“You do that. Have a safe trip now.”

She hustled Marnie to the door and waved her down the steps to the curb, where the church van was double-parked, and then hastily closed the door after her. The satisfying click of the lock turning served as a final punctuation to the end of this particular acquaintanceship.

“Look, Hamlet,” Darla said with a grin, waving the money at him as he leaped from the counter to saunter her way. “The loan’s repaid, so I can keep you in kibble for a while longer. And, even better, we’ll never have to hear from Marnie again.”

With a little celebratory whoop, she tossed the cash skyward and let it cascade back down on her. Then, just because, she allowed herself a little victory dance.

Hamlet had paused and was watching this frivolous human display with the greatest of feline disdain. The dance, however, was apparently the last straw. He gave his black whiskers a flick; then with another scornful look, he flopped onto the floor and flung one hind leg over his shoulder to give the base of his tail a quick lick.