Chapter 18

Liftingthe steaming mug to her nose, Kayla inhaled the rich French Vanilla scent of her coffee as she shuffled across her kitchen, toward the double glass doors. This morning’s mug had a cartoon Tasmanian Devil, with its massive teeth on full display, blood dripping from its canines.

SMILE

While you still have all your teeth.

Crispy the calico trotted at her heels. Her tail was in the air like a periscope, at the prospect of entering their favorite spot in the whole house—the screened-in porch.

She loved sitting out here. Loved listening to the absolute silence of predawn giving way to the first chirp of an eastern phoebe, Carolina wren, red-eyed vireo, or the ubiquitous American crow.

The avians’ good morning chatter never failed to nudge out the groggy effects of a restless night. Their rhythmic staccato songs always gave her renewed hope. Encouraged her to forget about the travails of yesterday and tackle today with fresh vigor.

Until now.

Birdsong, no matter how beautiful and inspiring, could not erase the aftershock of yesterday’s soul-crushing meeting at Hemingway’s.

She propped fluffy-sock-covered feet on the metal coffee table and set her cushioned glider into motion. Even now, hours later, the thought of her conversation with Jillian and her aunties still made her stomach cramp and her heart constrict. The confusion and pain she’d felt yesterday remained sharp and steady.

As if sensing her mistress’s inner turmoil, Crispy stood on her rear paws, bracing her front ones on Kayla’s chest, and snuffled her cheek. The cat’s long, white whiskers tickled her nose and lips.

Kayla set her coffee on a glass top table near the glider to avoid drinking cat hair before smoothing her hand down the feline’s silky back. At her touch, Crispy’s spine arched and her motor rumbled to life. She rubbed the side of her soft face against Kayla’s.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, trying to convince herself as well as her furry protector. “I’ll get through this letdown the same way I have all the others.”

Crispy’s nose twitched against hers, as if she detected the fishy scent of deceit.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their feline therapy session. Crispy’s head snapped in the direction of the front door, then to Kayla, as if asking, “Are you going to get that?”

“No, I’m not.” She rubbed the cat’s back again. This time, raking away a few white, black, and orange hairs. “I’m not in the mood to speak to anyone. This is the first Saturday I’ve taken off in two months, and I have no intention of interrupting my pity party.”

Crispy whipped her tail back and forth like a kid stomping their feet when denied their favorite treat.

“You don’t care who it is. You only want to amuse yourself against their leg.”

The doorbell rang again.

Glowing yellow-green eyes stared at her.

Despite her determination to ignore the outside world today, Kayla’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Fine.” She dug her phone out of her robe’s pocket and scrolled through several screens until she found her doorbell app. She tapped to open it and frowned.

No one was at her front door.

She searched the porch for packages, but found none.

Crispy jumped on her stomach, and Kayla let out an “oomph” at the unexpected move. The cat stood on her hind legs again. This time, facing away, her front paws steady on Kayla’s upraised knees.

“Looking for me?” a familiar masculine voice said.

Kayla lowered her phone and looked right into Crispy’s butthole. The calico’s tail slashed left and right, as she assessed the potential threat. Unlike most cats who run and hide when faced with strangers, Crispy went on guard. As if she’d been a dog in another incarnation.

Stretching her neck to see past the feline bum, Kayla found the absolute last person she’d wanted to see today. Especially this morning.

Out of character, she’d gone to bed without taking off her makeup, not caring about clogged pores and morning raccoon eyes. She couldn’t even recall if she’d brushed her teeth. Certainly hadn’t yet this morning.

Freaking great.

“What do you want, Ash?”

“To come in. If your guard cat will let me.”

“You realize it’s barely seven on a Saturday morning, right?”

“What better time to have your undivided attention?”

If she wasn’t so heart-weary this morning, she would find his determination to be in her company provocative and would have taken great pleasure in tweaking his fragile ego. However, at the moment, she simply wanted to be alone. “I’m not up for company right now.”

“We need to talk.”

Lowering her feet, she placed Crispy on the floor and stood. “No, we really don’t.” She met his gaze. “Unless you have new information on Victoria’s murder?”

“I have something else I need to discuss with you.”

She didn’t miss his slight hesitation. Or the fact that he didn’t confirm whether or not he had new information. What was he keeping from her?

This was where Sybil would want her to use her female wiles to tease it out of him. Kayla’s stomach roiled at the thought.

Grabbing her mug, she turned to go into the house. “Stop by my office on Monday.” She slid open the sliding screen door. “I’ll try to squeeze you in.”

“Kayla.”

The low hammer-drop way in which he said her name made her pause and look back.

“The Bureau received a complaint. About you.”

“Me?” Somehow she managed to inject the right amount of incredulity into her features and voice.

“I’ve been tasked with investigating the complaint. I’ll hang here until you’re”—he waved toward her robe—“decent.”

She studied him for a moment. “Curious.” Striding across the porch, she unlocked the door. “Have a seat. Crispy will keep you company.”