Dani Sinclair - D.b. Hayes, Detective

The hunk was inside getting registered when I pulled up with my camera and found a strategic place to park. I got some quality shots of the two of them in front of the motel, then going inside a room. Mr. Russo was going to be extremely pleased with the pictures, if not their content. He’d probably like a few more intimate shots, but I draw the line at voyeurism, even if I could have seen in around the heavy drape they pulled across the window.

It was a safe bet they’d be busy for the next half hour or so. I made a note of the time, left the car and the now silent cats and walked to the gas station on the corner for a can of oil for Binky, some water for the cats and a candy bar and a can of diet soda for me. I ate the candy on my way back and wished I’d bought more than one. I was starving.

Having dated a mechanic off and on, I’d learned more than I ever wanted to know about car engines. Replenishing the oil was child’s play. Except that sometime during my ministrations apparently my quarry split.

I couldn’t believe it. When I closed the hood and glanced over at their parking space, the Honda was gone and the room was dark. I looked at my watch and blinked. Good grief. He might look like a hunk, but he was definitely no stud.

Maybe they’d gone out for something to eat to recharge. Except that Elaine had just finished a full-course meal including dessert. As I hurried to the driver’s side and got in, I wondered if they’d had a fight and changed their minds. That’s when I realized I had a second problem. Sam One had escaped.

Oh, he was still in the car—unless he’d been able to squeeze himself through one of the side vent windows. And I sincerely doubted that, even if he was the thinner of the two cats. I peered over the seat and four green eyes peered back at me from the floor.

“You helped him get out, didn’t you?”

Neither of them so much as blinked.

“Okay, fine. If you want company that bad, you can have it. As long as you both stay back there and out from under my feet, we’ll get along fine. I’ve got some water for you, but I guess it had better wait until we stop again. We’re going home, so hang on.”

Binky started with a grinding noise I knew he shouldn’t be making. But he did start and that was what counted. So, unfortunately, did the cries from the backseat.

“Knock it off, you’re giving me a headache.”

Obviously they didn’t care.

Since there was no sign of the Honda in either direction, I decided there was little point in driving around aimlessly looking for it. I should have enough pictures to satisfy Mr. Russo for one night.

It was an uneventful trip back to Ohio if you didn’t count the ruckus the cats made. I counted it. Particularly when they started hissing and snarling at each other. One of the Sams nearly gave me a heart attack when he leaped back over the passenger seat, bounced off the box and landed on the floor beside me.

“Hey! Beat it! I’m trying to drive here.”

He hunkered down on the floor and hissed at me. It was a fun trip. Mickey had given me forty-two dollars to find the cat, but there wasn’t enough money in the world to put up with this. At least they stayed out from under my feet while I drove, but I lived in fear the whole way home.

I’d never been so grateful to park in my life—until I remembered I was going to have to find some way to smuggle the two cats inside without being seen. My apartment doesn’t allow pets. They barely allow humans.

When I reached for the nearest cat, it drew back and took a swipe at me. Since my hand was still throbbing, I decided not to argue without protection. I hurried inside the building, dug out my winter leather gloves and a jacket and went back to the parking lot to play big-game hunter.

I’m sure it looked vastly entertaining to anyone watching—as long as that anyone wasn’t the super. I hoped that nosy woman was absorbed in her television at this hour, because she and her husband lived in the building and they didn’t miss much.

Sam One was actually a pretty easy catch. He struggled briefly but almost seemed to welcome being dumped back inside the box. Maybe Sam Two had scared him. As long as he wasn’t hurt, that was fine with me.

I carried the box inside and set it on the living room floor while I went back outside for the litter, litter pan and food I’d purchased and put in the trunk. Sam One seized the opportunity to escape the box and disappeared behind a chair. Fine with me. It’s a small apartment. There weren’t too many other places he could go.

I got a dish of water and set everything on the bathroom floor before I went back out to try and catch Sam Two. He had no interest in letting me near him again, treats or not. He didn’t intend to be taken without a fight. The little beast put a hole in my jacket and ruined my gloves before I got him out of the backseat and into the box.

If there had been anyone in the lobby or on the steps as I ran upstairs with my yowling prize, I’d have been given an eviction notice on the spot.

The moment I plopped the box on the living room floor, the ungrateful little beast pushed up the flap and took off down the hall to disappear inside my bedroom. Not good. I did not want that cat in my bedroom. But after peering under the bed and being stared down by a pair of defiant green eyes, I decided he could stay. I wasn’t up for another battle.

After zapping a frozen dinner to fill my stomach, I decided I’d better download the photos before calling it a night. There was an especially good one of the hunk. I framed out the face and blew it up for a closer look. Despite the grainy texture his features were clear. He had light-colored eyes, probably blue, and rugged, sharply defined features.

I traced the square face on the screen with a fingertip. It was a strong face and very symmetrical—the face of a man who took charge and got things done.

“In a hurry,” I added aloud with a snicker as I remembered how short a time he’d spent in the motel room. “So much for gorgeous hunks. You really should get a haircut, you know.”

But instead of deleting the picture, I printed it out along with the others and set it to one side before I carefully marked and stored the memory stick. By the time I’d typed up my notes into a report, I was yawning. There hadn’t been a sound from either of my unwanted guests, so I went in search of them.

One was still under my bed. The other was squished behind the blue hand-me-down sofa in the living room. I worried that he might be stuck back there, but when I would have moved it out from the wall, he proved me wrong by wriggling even farther back from the end.

“Fine. You want to spend the night back there, be my guest.”

I wasn’t quite as happy about the one under my bed, but as long as he stayed put, we’d be fine. I set my alarm so I wouldn’t oversleep and got ready for bed.

I needn’t have bothered with the alarm. The catfight woke me before eight. Even I’m not enough of a zombie to sleep through noises like those, especially when the sounds were coming from the foot of my bed.

“Knock it off!”

The sudden silence was almost as loud as the fight had been. I swung my legs off the bed and one of the Sams streaked out of the room. The other one must have gone back under the bed because there was no sign of it.

Great. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning and I was wide awake. My body clock doesn’t normally start until mid-morning, after a couple of diet colas. Obviously this was not going to be a normal day. I’d be very happy when Mickey claimed Mr. Sam so I could take the other cat to the animal shelter.

By the time I was dressed and ready to leave, I decided I was risking all-out war by leaving the two of them together unattended. I made a second makeshift litter box out of the cardboard box by cutting it down and lining it with aluminum foil. I left it in my bedroom with Sam Two and a second bowl of food and water.