Donally, Claire - Cat Nap (A SUNNY & SHADOW MYSTERY)

Sunny looked through the big plate-glass window to the street outside. It had already gone dark, and the traffic was sparse, to put it mildly. Just a few cars passed while she watched. But then, nightfall came early in southern Maine at this time of year. That and the winter cold tended to discourage tourists from flocking to the delights of Kittery Harbor in January, February, and March. The busy season usually came in summer, when people sailed along the rocky coasts, or in the autumn, when they came to see the foliage or engage in traditional pastimes such as apple picking. Add in an unseasonable early winter warm spell, and the winter activity fans had gone out west instead of up north. That warmth looked likely to change now, though. Yesterday had brought a little snow, and a lot of talk from local weather forecasters about the threat of a bigger storm on the horizon.

Not that weather concerns had done much to slow Sunny’s tourist business, though. Bargains were something that brought people to the area year-round, and two busloads of shopping tourists had simply pushed up their schedules and started trolling the miles of outlet malls to the north of Kittery Harbor tonight instead of tomorrow morning, just in case a blizzard blew in. Nor had the four couples booking rooms in quiet bed-and-breakfast establishments canceled on her. If we really get a blizzard, they may find their romantic weekends running a little longer than anticipated, she thought. But then, being stuck with someone you love couldn’t be all that bad, could it?

Not having anything romantic on the agenda herself, Sunny couldn’t say. Oh, there was a guy she was interested in—smart, good-looking, and he carried a gun. But getting Constable Will Price to notice her “that way” made the toughest systems upgrade seem like child’s play in comparison.

For one thing, I’m not sure I can delete all his memory when it comes to Jane Rigsdale, Sunny thought wryly. Jane was a former classmate of hers, and the local vet—not to mention an all-too-successful rival for Will Price’s attention. She finished the last of her tests on the website, grinned again at the results, and muttered “TGIF” as she started shutting down her computer. Then the phone rang.

Sunny tensed a little—all too often, she’d catch some disaster just as she was ready to escape from the office. It seemed to go with the territory in the tourist biz.

Hearing her father’s voice on the other end of the line didn’t automatically let her relax her shoulders either. She’d come back to Kittery Harbor from New York when Mike Coolidge suffered a heart attack and needed someone to take care of him. It had been a scary time, made a little scarier when the newspaper she’d worked for back in the city had laid her off in absentia from her job as a reporter. Sunny had had to face the challenge of handling an irascible patient while also finding some way to turn her work experience into a paycheck. Ken Howell, the editor of the local paper, couldn’t fit a full-time reporter into his small operation. So in the end, she’d wound up at MAX. Her salary was pretty pitiful, but at least she got a chance to do a little writing for the site in between sieges of grunt work.

But now, as she listened to her dad over the phone, he sounded pretty cheerful rather than scared or aggravated. Sunny had to admit, he’d definitely improved over the past few months. Mike had even recently started driving a little on local errands, and had undertaken a walking program—putting in three miles a day of indoor hoofing around the outlet malls.

Still . . .

“Give me the bad news first,” Sunny told her dad.

“Nothing exciting,” Mike quickly said. “I found your friend Shadow yowling outside the kitchen door this morning. Dunno what happened, but when he came in, he was limping. Now I see that he’s still favoring one paw since he got up from his latest nap.”

“Did you look—” Sunny began, but her father broke in unceremoniously.

“Uh-uh,” Mike objected. “Even on a good day, I don’t think that cat would tolerate me poking at him—especially in a place that hurts.” He gave a sour chuckle. “And he has the claws to back up a hands-off policy.”

Sunny sighed. Her dad had a point. He and Shadow had settled into a sort of wary truce following some friction when the cat had first adopted Sunny. Shadow had since settled pretty comfortably into the Coolidge household in spite of Mike’s initial fulminations, and now, having enjoyed a couple of months of peace and quiet, Mike certainly didn’t want to get on Shadow’s bad side again.

“Did you give Jane Rigsdale a call?” Sunny asked.

“Of course, especially since she promised you that the mangeball gets a free ride whenever he needs it,” her dad replied, every inch the thrifty Yankee trader. “She said she’d fit you in at the end of her Saturday hours.”

Sometimes it pays to have someone feel she owes you a favor, Sunny thought. Aloud, she asked, “And is there any good news?”

“A little,” Mike said. “I thought we might eat out tonight. Picked up a little football pool money on last night’s game.”

Sunny laughed. “I thought it sounded like you were cheering harder than usual for the Pats.”

“Yeah, well,” her dad responded. “I thought we might grab a bite at the Redbrick.” He hesitated for a second. “Unless you and Will have plans.”

I wish, thought Sunny. Why did everything seem to remind her of Will—or rather her lack of success with him? But when she told Mike she was free, his voice grew brighter over the phone line. “So what do you think? Dinner at the Redbrick? We haven’t been there in a while.”

“Sure, why not?” Sunny replied. “I’m just closing up the office.”

“Would you mind coming to get me?” Mike broke off in embarrassment. “I’m still not ready to go driving at night. And besides,” he went on, sounding a bit more like his usual self, “we’ll save on gas, using only one car.”

Sunny calculated the amount of money in her pocket and the amount of gas in her SUV. They’d be awfully close to E on the gas gauge on the way back into town. Maybe some of Mike’s ill-gotten gains could finance a fill-up at Sal DiGillio’s service station. “I can be home in half an hour,” she told him. “With luck, we can get to the Redbrick in time to beat the dinner rush.”

Sunny said good-bye, feeling pleased with the plan, but no sooner had she hung up the phone than it started ringing again. One of the romantic couples was having GPS problems and had gotten completely turned around. Sunny stayed on the line, verbally guiding them through winding country roads, until the couple reached their B&B destination. By the time she managed to leave the office, pick up her dad, and get back into town, they couldn’t even find a parking spot near the Redbrick Tavern.

Kittery Harbor was an old town, and the oldest part was crammed in around the harbor. The streets were crooked relics of that long bygone time, as were the surviving buildings, constructed in the New England Colonial style of hemlock and spruce, with clapboard siding and shingled roofs. Their destination tonight, though, came from a more recent era, in a neighborhood with slightly wider streets and, as the tavern’s name suggested, brick construction. Wider streets didn’t necessarily mean better parking, though. Sunny and her father had to walk several blocks to get to the Redbrick, their breath steaming in the night air. Mike walked along steadily, his face ruddy from the chill, his white curls bobbing. Sunny couldn’t help noticing how much his hair had grown out since his Christmas haircut.

Almost without thinking, she raised a hand to her own reddish mane. She’d finally found a hairdresser who could tame her unruly curls, but the price of looking good was constant—and expensive—vigilance.