Page 115 of Tequila Tuesdays

Chapter 36

Thecourtwasinfull swing after the holiday season. I called Shanda at the beginning of the week to remind her about her hearing scheduled a week from Wednesday.

“How was your holiday break?” I asked her.

“After Mikey got kicked out of the house, I went home and spent my days off with Bertie and my mom.”

I grinned. “Nice. How’s Bertie doing?”

“She’s teething. So she drools and whines a lot, but she’s good.”

“That sounds like a few teenage boys I used to know,” I replied.

“Huh. You’re funny.” She didn’t laugh at all.

I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, smartass. I was able to talk to the prosecutor, and we’re good to go next Wednesday. You’ll plead to the misdemeanor just like we discussed, and you’ll need to complete the terms of your probation. First, you’ll need to—”

Shanda cut me off. “You’ve gone over it like twelve times already. I got it. Have you heard anything about Jason?” she asked. I could hear worry in her voice.

“No. But I asked the prosecutor to let me know what’s happening with his case.” I paused. “Haveyouheard from Jason?”

Shanda cleared her throat. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘maybe’?”

“Don’t be mad at me for not telling you earlier.”

I sighed heavily. “Shanda, out with it. What didn’t you tell me?”

“Someone left a dead cat at my mom’s door,” she said softly.

“Did it die from natural causes?”

She scoffed. “Yeah, if having your tongue cut off, your eyeballs punctured, and your intestines pulled out is dying of natural causes.”

My stomach roiled, and I fought not to gag. Pity and rage rolled through me as I thought of that poor cat suffering. I was pretty sure I knew who had tried to poison Gary.

“How long ago?” I asked. We both knew who’d done it.

“We found it on Christmas morning.”

Rage and sorrow boiled through me. Jason was a fucking pig. “Did you report it and take photos? Do you have any evidence?”

She hummed. “My mom took some photos, and I, uh, talked to a few people at my apartment complex. They said they’ve seen his car a couple of times in the parking lot.”

I bet she’d talked to Walt. “What kind of car does he drive?”

“After he wrecked his last car, I heard he drives a gray Mazda sports car,” she answered. “Why?”

I broke out in a sweat. “Do you know the license plate number by chance?”

Shanda started breathing heavily. “The last three digits are SFW. I remember because it also stands for ‘stupid fuck wad.’”

I’d been right. That asshole had driven by my house on Christmas Eve. And then he’d left a poor mutilated cat on her doorstep. He really was crazy.

“Why do you want to know what kind of car he drives?” she asked suspiciously.

I cleared my throat and lied. “I want to keep an eye out for him. You’ve told me a few times he’s crazy. And I think what he did proves it.”

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