Page 52 of Hiss and Make Up
Marc made a quick call to someone else for help, then sat down to make a plan. He would find out who did this. He would find out who was behind everything the past few days. Someone would pay for all of it.
* * *
Sierra sat at the small, round table in their kitchen nook with a mug of coffee in front of her. Luna was already up and playing outside on the tree swing when Sierra had dragged herself to the coffee pot in their tiny, outdated kitchen.
The house sat in a quiet little neighborhood where each street was named after a Catholic saint and every yard had live oak trees and azalea bushes. It was an old neighborhood, but as the original homeowners died off, young families moved in to replace them. It was quaint and quiet, and the perfect place for Luna to play outside in the shade and catch lizards. She had been more than happy to move in and help Liz out with bills when Luna’s dad died a year ago.
That was before she realized Liz had been hiding an entire black cat rescue operation. One stray cat turned into two black cats animal control had planned to put down, which turned into five to ten cats at any given moment.
Sierra gave Liz a hard time about them, but she didn’t mind except when they tried to steal her food. As long as they brought a smile to Luna’s face, they were welcome roommates.
One of the silky black cats with a tiny face and big eyes hopped onto the table, and she put her arm up to block her coffee.
“No, sir.” Aside from not wanting cat spit in her coffee, Maximus had major digestive setbacks if he even looked at anything sweet. And Sierra had loaded this cup with sugar.
But Maximus had one white whisker.
“No, ma’am?” Sierra squinted at the cat. No white whisker. Maybe this was Morgana. She had big eyes and a sweet tooth too. Either way, this cat was not getting her coffee.
Sierra picked up the sleek creature and set it on the floor, where two others were already sniffing to see if they missed any excitement. Then she tapped her phone screen and took a sip of coffee.
Nothing.
She picked up the phone and shook it.
Nothing.
She hadn’t heard from Marc yet, even though he said he’d call to check on her. It was only nine o’clock, but she hadn’t slept much, and she knew he must not have slept at all. So why hadn’t he texted yet?
Not that she needed or even wanted him checking up on her, but it would be nice to know he was still alive. That someone hadn’t burned his house down too.
The last she’d heard was a one-word reply ofgoodthe night before after she’d confirmed that she was safely locked in with Liz and Luna. He was probably going over the damage with Denise and the insurance guy, so she didn’t want to bug him.
Liz sat with her own mug of coffee. She wore a tight, threadbare Witchy Kitty Rescue T-shirt, and her black hair was in a messy top knot with a few wavy strands dangling around her face. Her lips, as usual, were graced with deep, red lipstick even at nine on a Sunday morning.
“Phones are like pots of boiling water, you know.”
Sierra placed it face down on the table, so she couldn’t see it anymore. “Better?”
“I don’t know. Is it?” Liz took a sip and stared over the rim of her mug, waiting for an answer.
By now, Marc must have found the dog still in his yard. Maybe he was mad about that. Although she didn’t regret that decision at all. The way that dog barked at the fire, he ought to make a pretty good alarm system for Marc.
But maybe he wasn’t mad about the dog. Or busy. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to her. Maybe he regretted working with her yesterday. Or maybe he regretted last night.
Sierra tapped her fingers on the table. Liz was right. This was better. Staring at the screen was bad. Staring at the back of the phone wasmuchbetter.
“Ugh.” Sierra flipped the phone over and let her fingers fly over the keyboard before she could change her mind.
You okay?
Then she flipped it over on the table again, while Liz tried not to smile and took another sip of coffee.
“Ready to talk about what happened last night?” Liz asked.
“No.”
“Are you gonna tell me about it anyway?”
