Page 14 of When Annika Met Thom

“But I’m being called,” he complained and a bell rang in the distance. It sounded more like a doorbell than anything she’d ever heard in a hospital. “They need me.”

“Pizza!” someone called in the background. Annika was sure the person said pizza.

And it was a woman.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Oh, one of the nurses.” Leo spoke more quickly then. “Just work it out. Thom’s okay. Change just throws his game. Use small words and be firm.”

“But...”

“Gotta go. I’m glad you’re here!” Leo made a kissing sound, then ended the call.

Annika stared at the receiver, unable to completely ignore her sense that something didn’t add up. What was wrong?

He’d never told her who’d answered his phone that first time.

Pizza. Hmm.

There was an insistent rapping at the door then and Annika thought that maybe Thom had forgotten his keys. She opened the door, nestling Percival against her chin, only to find the woman from down the hall waiting there.

Thom had called her Mrs. Moriarty. She was in her sixties, with silver hair cut in a severe but practical style. She was slim and dressed in black, her lipstick vividly red against her pale skin. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Annika and she jabbed a finger toward Percival. “What’s that?”

It wasn’t the most friendly greeting possible and Annika found herself bristling.

Percival ducked inside her jacket. She felt him run around the back of her waist, the leash trailing behind him. He slipped up her back, then poked his head out the back of her collar, as inquisitive as ever. “He’s a f—” she started to say but Thom barged out of the stairwell like there was a fire.

His voice boomed down the corridor as he interrupted her. “It’s a weasel, Mrs. Moriarty,” he said firmly, flicking Annika a lethal look.

She wasn’t sure what was going on but she had a feeling she should let him do the talking. Cerberus nuzzled her leg, panting heavily and drooling around the ball she held in her mouth.

“I thought it was a ferret,” Mrs. Moriarty said, turning on Thom. She had to look up—way up—but clearly didn’t find him daunting.

Thom shook his head. “No, it’s a weasel. You can tell by the length of its tail.”

Annika knew that Percival’s tail was hanging down her back, out of view. And it was different from a weasel’s tail. Thatwasone way to tell them apart.

Had Thom made a mistake?

Mrs. Moriarty surveyed Percival with skepticism and he looked back at her. “It’s illegal to have ferrets as pets in New York City,” she informed them both. “If that was a ferret, I’d be obliged to report you to the authorities and have that rodent destroyed.”

Annika opened her mouth in outrage. No one was going to put Percival down!

“Except it’s a weasel,” Thom said flatly, stepping through the apartment door. His move meant that Annika had to back up to allow him to enter. She did it instinctively, thinking he didn’t know his own size, then wondered.

Did he think Percival was a weasel, or was he protecting her pet?

He unclipped the leash then straightened to face Mrs. Moriarty, his bulk filling the door and blocking Annika from the neighbor’s view. Cerberus headed for her water bowl. Annika felt Percival watching, his curiosity as avid as her own.

“Look at him. White fur. Pink eyes. Weasel.” Thom’s tone was dismissive and he started to close the door. “Have a nice day, Mrs. Moriarty.”

“I will,” that woman said, leaning closer to maintain eye contact. “Just so you know, I have an appointment with the landlord next week, to talk about a weight restriction for dogs in this building.”

“Thanks for sharing.” Thom nodded once, then shut the door. He turned the deadbolt so that it echoed audibly, then met Annika’s gaze.

Her mouth went dry as they stared at each other.

That simmering look should be classed as a lethal weapon. Annika felt her knees melt but she couldn’t look away.

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