Page 8 of Backdraft
"You know what, I would love to be your partner in crime right now, but I can barely keep my eyes open, I stink, I have to pee, and I’ve got that damn cat to deal with."
"I. Am. Shocked. What happened to you? You used to be fun." She planted her hands on her hips and gave me the stare.
I could have taken offense, but I was too tired. She was right.
I lifted a shoulder. "I don't know. My spark is gone. I've been focused so much on work and the move.”
She nodded. "Girlfriend, you need to party and,” she looked around, “get laid. There’s plenty to choose from right here. Check out that Chief over there. Yummy." She waggled her eyebrows.
It felt good to laugh again. It seemed like ages since I had. "Not your kinda party, my dear. I could use time to relax though, and okay, I will admit I could use a few drinks. But I gotta deal with things first. You got my number, right?"
She nodded.
"Okay, then let me see what I can work out and call me in a few hours. I checked my watch and groaned. "It's one a.m. Nothing will be open now, and I really need some sleep. Dinner later?
She wagged her finger at me. "Fine, dinner later. When's the PM?"
"It's tomorrow, or is that today? I don't know. I'll probably hear in the morning."
"Okay, I'll see you at the PM anyway, but don't you dare think you're going to bail on our girls’ night."
"Okay, okay. By then I'll probably feel more human. We can sort it tomorrow?" I raised my eyebrows and nodded.
"Today," Shannon said and smiled.
I rubbed my eyes. "Yes, yes, today. Actually, I like the idea of us going out. Now I need to check on that cat."
I opened the truck, fully expecting a howling cat to launch itself at me, but it was silent. Maybe he was asleep. I moved the nest I'd made earlier.
"He's not here." I sniffed cautiously. "There's no kitty aroma emanating from the truck either. He's gone." I looked at Shannon.
"Well, where'd he go?" she asked.
Chapter Three
I didn't expect the cat to cause this much trouble right off the hop. I don't see how he got out of the vehicle without some help.
I glanced around, and it was then I noticed a piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper. Plucking it from underneath the rubber holding it down, I opened it up to read.
I took your cat. Didn't seem right to leave it in the truck. Shame on you. It is at Wags & Whiskers. If you don't claim within twenty-four hours, I'm taking him.
I stared at the words. There was no signature or name, and I grit my teeth. That was pretty ballsy. Who did this person think they were?
I drew in a breath and splayed my fingers, a habit I'd developed years ago when stressed. It helped me to ground myself. Even my mood ring indicated I was upset.
The cat being taken to Wags & Whiskers was a good thing. Even if it was a little out of the ordinary for someone to take it upon themselves to do it.
I glanced around and was relieved nothing else appeared to be missing. Just the cat. I'd find out Wags & Whiskers contact info and give them a call. Maybe they could keep the kitty for a few days until I got settled.
It could be a blessing in disguise really, a safe place for the cat until I found a home for him. Or I decided to keep him.
I froze. Where did that thought come from? I'd never wanted a cat before. My life was too fluid. I couldn't keep a cat in my line of work—even if they were pretty self-sufficient.
Sometimes, I'd be gone for days.
I shook my head. No way could I take the kitty home. As the words crossed my mind, a tinge of regret pinched my heart.
"What's up?" Shannon asked. "You were a million miles away just now."
