Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

J osie walked back to her parents' house next door after the meeting with a notebook full of To-Do lists, Mrs. Jacob's printed agenda, and her head filled with ideas on how to make the event great.

She could only hope the anniversary would be distracting enough she'd forget that Corey was back.

In fact, her event planning was so distracting she forgot about the little freeloaders temporarily living in the house with her.

She'd just opened the door and reached inside to flip on the light when she first heard and then saw the blur of fur heading toward where she stood in the open doorway.

Thank goodness she'd packed all she'd need for the meeting in her favorite canvas tote bag so her hands were free.

She had only a split second but it was enough.

Somehow she managed to move inside, bend down to scoop up the kitten with one hand and push the door shut with the other.

She set down her bag and double locked the front door, all without losing hold of the squirming little escapee determined to get free.

These cats were fast. Like mini turbo racers. She'd never have caught it if it had gotten outside.

"What is wrong with you, little one?" she asked the baby kitty right to its furry little face. "You'll get lost or eaten out there. It's nice inside. You have food and toys and a whole house full of furniture to sleep on."

Her mother had gone all out for the two temporary houseguests. Why would they ever want to leave? If Josie had a less complicated relationship with her parents and this town, she never would have left herself.

She set the cat down on the kitchen floor with an exhale as her heart continued to pound from the near catastrophe.

Cat -astrophe. Ha! That was funny.

Too bad she couldn't post it on her Insta with a picture of the two villains. Her parents might see and then know she probably wasn't the best person to have put in charge of cat sitting two kittens.

Two kittens. Uh, oh. Where was the other one?

They always hung out together. Partners in crime…and in sleep. They were rarely apart. But she'd only seen once since coming in the door.

Holy shit! Had the second one slipped outside and she hadn't seen?

Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god .

" Psss, psss, psss . Here kitty, kitty. Jelly, where are you?" she called while Peanut Butter looked on expectantly.

No answer. Crap. Had it gotten out for real? Slipped past her when she'd been grabbing the other one?

Oh no. This was a disaster.

The tiniest meow penetrated her panic. She froze, eyes wide, ears honed to listen for the sound again.

" Psss, psss, psss. Here, kitty, kitty," she repeated.

Meow.

That had definitely come from inside this room. She could tell that even with as muffled as the sound was.

"Did you get inside the cabinet, you little devil?" Relieved, Josie strode toward the wall of kitchen cupboards.

She opened first one, then the next. The search excited Peanut Butter, who took it as an invitation to explore inside but didn't yield the missing Jelly.

The kitten's cry repeated again, this time with accompanying scratching. She was starting to run out of cupboards to check.

"Where are you?" Josie squatted down and flung open the two doors beneath the sink and watched in horror as Peanut Butter dove inside then disappeared through a small hole in the back wall cut out to accommodate the water pipes.

"Holy shit. Oh no. No, no. This is bad. So bad."

Now both cats were inside the walls. They could be lost in there forever.

Panic had her glancing around her in search of anything that might help.

Food! They loved to eat.

She grabbed the box of the kitten's dry kibble and shook the contents loudly near the opening. "Here, kitty, kitty. Want to eat? Food."

Nothing. Not even a cry. They were too happy exploring to care about eating.

Or worse, they'd traveled through the walls. Too far to hear her. Too far for her to hear them. They could be trapped there!

What if she couldn't get them out? With no food or water they'd die slowly and horribly inside the walls of the house.

She couldn't let that happen. She had to do something.

"Shit-shit-shit-shit!" In full panic mode now she ran out the back door, chanting her four-letter-word-mantra the whole way to the garage.

Her father must have every tool known to man. He had to have something she could use to cut open that wall and get those kittens out.

Opening the garage door she flipped on the light and stared at the choices on the tool bench and those hanging on the pegboard wall behind it. She could do this. But she'd better do it fast before they got any farther.

Striding ahead she grabbed the first tool that looked like it could cut a hole, even though it looked scary.

She glanced down at the circular saw she'd snagged for ninety-nine dollars on an Early Bird Black Friday sale for her father's Christmas gift one year. She'd lied and told Quinn it had cost two-hundred and his share was a hundred so she hadn't had to pay anything but the tax. Considering she'd gotten up at four-thirty in the morning to wait on a long line to get it, she didn't feel guilty about that at all.

Now she wished Quinn were here. The teeth of the blade were scary-sharp.

God, this could end in a disaster the level of which belonged in a horror movie.

She could cut a kitten in half trying to use this thing on the wall when she couldn't see what was on the other side. She could slip and cut off her own fingers too.

Putting down the circular saw and its horrifying rotating blade of death, she picked up another tool. This one smaller. A jigsaw maybe? She remembered some of the things she'd learned in shop class and from watching home renovation shows.

The short straight single blade looked less deadly, but it still could do damage to the kittens if she cut into a wall blindly not knowing if they were on the other side.

Nope. Too scary. She put it down and admitted she really had no business using any power tools.

She perused the selections hanging on the wall, plucking off a claw hammer instead.

That might work better. She could knock a hole in the wall. Then pry off the wood and sheetrock to make it bigger. Big enough she could get a flashlight and her head inside and see what kind of situation she was dealing with.

Then, once she could see, use one of the power tools. She put the hammer in her other hand and reached for a different kind of saw, with a single less deadly looking blade.

This was going to make an unholy mess. She'd worry later about how to fix it before her parents got home.

With her tools of choice in hand, she spun to leave and came face-to-face with Corey, standing in the open doorway and blocking her exit from the garage.

She stopped dead in her tracks. "What are you doing?"

Was he stalking her? Was he delusional enough to think she'd be up for a booty call all these years later?

"What are you doing?" he asked, turning the question back on her.

"That's none of your business," she said, hand with the hammer in it planted on her hip for effect. "Why are you watching me anyway?"

Corey let out a scoff. "I wasn't watching you. I was taking out the trash for Mom when I heard you cussing your way to the garage and then pawing through your dad's tools. I figured something must be wrong and you might need help. But you're right. None of my business."

He turned to go and she bit out one more silent cuss. She could use his help. She remembered him and his father building a tree house in the backyard. Corey actually knew how to safely use all the tools she had absolutely no experience with.

She hated to do it. Hated herself and hated him too. But she had to. She had to ask for help.

It took more strength than she knew she had but she forced out one word. "Wait."

Corey turned back, one dark brow cocked high.

"I might…need… help," she revealed in a stuttering admission before she changed her mind about accepting his help—and before the kittens made it any deeper into the bowels of the walls of the house.