Look Both Ways by Carol J. Perry

person and could respond had become a habit. I’d noticed that Aunt Ibby did it, too. I wrapped the coin, then looked around for the other piece of tissue paper. “Where did the other one go?”
    O’Ryan darted under the bed and returned, batting a wadded-up white ball of paper.
    â€œGood boy,” I said. “Saves me from crawling under there.” As I flattened it out and put the dog tag in the center, I noticed that one edge was torn unevenly. “Did you chew on this, boy?”
    I was rewarded with a grumpy cat face and an “Are you serious?” look.
    â€œOkay, okay, no need to get huffy,” I said. “Maybe the other one has a raggedy edge, too.” I unwrapped the coin and looked closely at the tissue paper. The two halves matched. Someone had torn one sheet of tissue paper in half. “So,” I said in my best Nancy Drew fashion, “these two items were placed in the bureau at the same time.”
    â€œMrruff,” O’Ryan said, obviously bored with the game, as he curled up at the foot of the bed and closed his eyes. I rewrapped the coin and the tag, replaced them in the bureau, and slid the panel closed. Pete was right. There was a tiny indentation in the wood at the spot hiding the double cubbyhole. I made a quick inspection of the spots that I knew hid secret compartments. No more flaws or dents.
    Yawning, I kicked off the sandals, hung up my dress, took a quick shower, and pulled on one of Johnny’s old Indianapolis Speedway T-shirts.
    I joined the sleeping cat on my big, new, soft, properly placed, and much too empty bed.

CHAPTER 7
    It was barely light out when I woke up. I looked around, a little disoriented. Until very recently I’d been sleeping downstairs, in my old bedroom. There a clock radio with a lighted dial on a handy bedside table had kept me aware of the time and, with a push of a button, had brought me soothing music or the latest news. Now I was in a room that was still a bit strange to me, empty except for my bed and the bureau. O’Ryan, perhaps sensing my momentary discomfort, moved from his spot at the foot of the bed and settled himself on my shoulder, purring loudly and rhythmically into my ear.
    â€œDear cat,” I whispered, which caused the purring to increase in volume. I knew that my watch was on the top of the bureau across the room. I’d put it next to the vase of roses and daisies. But did I want to get up and look at it? Did it matter what time it was? It was summer. I was on vacation. I had no plans for the day. That in itself was a strange feeling.
    I’ve always been a busy person. Had had full-time jobs on television ever since I graduated from Boston’s Emerson College. I’d been a weather girl, a shopping channel show host, and even a phone-in psychic. My new job, as an instructor of TV production at the Tabitha Trumbull Academy of the Arts in downtown Salem, was interesting and I really liked it, but having a two-month vacation was an entirely new experience for me. Even the online criminology course I’d been taking wouldn’t resume until August. I planned to finish furnishing the apartment, but that was hardly a full-time project.
    â€œWhat do you think, O’Ryan? Look for a summer job? Volunteer someplace? Get a hobby? What?”
    O’Ryan rolled over, eyes still shut, and assumed a pose that meant “Scratch my tummy.” I obliged.
    â€œI know,” I told him. “Two months of cat petting would be fun, but let’s think of something more productive. Come on. Get up. It’s time for coffee.”
    I padded into the kitchen, still not looking at the watch, not really wanting to touch the top of the bureau. O’Ryan stretched, yawned, and followed me. I poured some kitty kibble into his bowl and started a fresh pot of coffee for myself.
    I retrieved a mug from the dishwasher and a jar of powdered creamer from the cabinet. Then I took a pen and a pad