I wasn’t sure I’d be as cheerful as the elderly Felis.
It was just after nine o’clock; my encounter with Red had taken up more time than I’d realized. There were still alleys to be searched and I moved back toward the center of the city, choosing my steps carefully in the darkness.
Two hours later I was tired and more than a little grumpy. The small packs I’d run into hadn’t been much help, either denying all knowledge of any other runaways or splintering into a dozen pairs of running feet, heading away from the bounty hunter looking for their kin.
I couldn’t blame them for being suspicious. Anyone representing authority posed a threat to their ecosystem and I definitely was that, wanting to pull two of their own away. Even offering money didn’t get me much more than vague references to different parks and shelters where I might trip over the kids. After a few more hours of staggering around green spots masquerading as parks and almost getting run over by more than a few delivery trucks in back alleys making late night/early morning deliveries I was ready to call it quits for one night.
I dialed Bran’s number. He answered on the third ring.
“I’m headed home. What’s up with you?”
There was a lot of chatter in the background—guitar, drums, maybe a flute or two and a chorus of voices rising and falling in intensity.
“I’m out here at the Point. Kids say they may or may not have seen the boy traveling alone,” Bran shouted.
“Think he dumped her already?” I leaned against a light pole, pressing the cool metal against my spine. It’d turned into a warm summer evening and I was in desperate need of a hot shower and a cold drink.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m going to hang out for a few more hours until they all crash in case Evan or Lisa show up.”
Someone shouted, the phone picking up her garbled giggle.
I recognized it as Angie’s.
The little bitch had either followed Bran or tracked him down. Either way she was with him and I was not.
You’ll notice, a little hysterical voice in my ear buzzed, that he’s not mentioning her to you. He’s keeping a secret from you.
I kept speaking, using the energy to force my blood pressure down. “Kind of a gamble.” I lifted my hand to flag down a taxi. “No luck on my side. I’m headed home for a rest before going back out tomorrow.” I chose my words carefully, hoping he’d pick up on what I was putting down. “Going to take a shower and get a bite to eat. Be nice to have some company.”
“Okay. I’ll catch you there later.” Bran cut me off just as Angie’s laugh got louder.
Obviously our mental telepathy needed some work.
The cab ride home was quiet, with the driver more focused on the classical music coming out of his radio than chattering to me. Which was good because I didn’t feel like talking and/or listening to anyone.
Jazz trilled at me as I stepped out of the shower, a ghost in the middle of the steam filling the room.
I hoped I’d used up all the hot water.
She wound between my legs as I pulled on a nightshirt and crawled into bed. The stained bedspread was in the far corner, waiting to be washed.
I studied the clock. 3:32 A.M.
I wasn’t impressed.
Jazz jumped up on the bed and curled into a fat white ball on Bran’s pillow with a growly purr. She reached out and grabbed my hand, latching on with her claws. A tug had my fingers tucked under her paws where she licked my skin, still purring.
Cats give the best therapy.
I stroked her soft fur with my free hand and turned out the light.
Chapter Four
I woke up with a start, my mind cataloguing the noises and giving them names.
Key. Front door.
Bran.
4:47 A.M.
I lay there in the darkness, not moving. Jazz shuffled a little closer and began to lick my hand.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs. A muted curse as he failed to negotiate the corner and banged his arm.
He smelled of smoke—wood and marijuana. A touch of beer.
Angie.
But not of sex.
Just her scent, all over him like a bad overdose of aftershave.
The clothing went into a pile on the floor on his side of the bed, right where he could trip over them getting in and out. He shuffled back and forth for a minute, probably trying to decide whether to shower or not.
Exhaustion won out.
Jazz let out an annoyed trill as he pushed her to one side, grunting at her slow retreat. The fat cat stomped on my leg on the way to the bottom of the mattress where she curled up into a ball and began to snore.
Bran slipped under the sheets and pulled me close with a contented sigh.
I didn’t say anything. Instead I closed my eyes and tried to get back to sleep.
“You’re awake,” he whispered in my ear. “I can tell, you know.”
I stayed quiet.
“No luck finding the kids. I stayed until they all passed out or fell asleep. Some of them think they spotted Evan with a group of musicians over on Spadina but they weren’t sure. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”
I said nothing. His arm tightened around my waist.
“Angie was there. She came in with the overnight van.”
I stiffened in his grip.
“I know.” I turned over, presenting my back to him. “I heard her on the phone when you called.”
“I didn’t sleep with her.”
“I know.”
He said nothing and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls. Jazz was still at the foot of the bed and stretched out her long legs as I sat up and tugged on a fresh T-shirt and jeans. She yawned, displaying yellowed teeth, and hopped off to lead me downstairs where my apology brekka waited.
The clock read 7:38 A.M.
My coffee, sugar and milk already added, sat at the small table already. A fat freshly-baked cinnamon roll lay on a plate, holding up a folded piece of paper.
I padded over and sat down.
Rebecca—I decided to head out early because I couldn’t sleep. I’ll call later on to let you know if I’ve found the kids.
Don’t worry about Angie. I won’t see her again.
Bran
I crumpled the note up in one hand and reached for the coffee with the other. Jazz let out a merp as she lay down by her food bowl. I sipped the coffee while dumping a cupful of kibble in her dish.
“Your master’s a fool,” I told her. “He’s getting all tangled up in this and he doesn’t have to.”
Jazz dunked her face in the bowl and began munching.
“I mean, I appreciate the help. It’s not like having two of us looking won’t be better than one.” I pulled one corner of the cinnamon bun off. It was still warm and doughy. I suspected if I checked the oven there’d be others sitting there, waiting to be devoured.
Jazz licked her lips and moved to the water bowl. She leaned across the dish and began to lap from the far side, dunking her chest in the water.
“Damned bitch is still hot for him.” I washed down the sugary bite with a mouthful of coffee. “Goddamn hero worship. Could have looked him up years ago but she waited until he walked into her lair, walked into her damned house. I should have known better than to let him get involved in this.”
Jazz looked up, her chin dripping.
“Bastard.” I shoved the rest of the bun into my mouth. “Cinnamon is good to keep your blood pressure down. He knew I’d need this.”