The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery by Leann Sweeney

through the emergency center door—an emergency room next door to a Subway. Never thought I’d see something like this.
    Inside, a mother sat holding a flushed baby, but they were the only patients in the waiting area. The place had been open only a few weeks, as far as I knew. I was so glad we’d lucked out and wouldn’t have to wait too long.
    When the young woman at the front desk saw me come in supporting Finn, she looked at him with concern and immediately told us to come through the double doors to my left.
    A man in blue scrubs seemed to arrive out of nowhere once we passed through and he said, “I’ve got him.” He took my place supporting a wobbly Finn. “You can check him in, ma’am. Head injury, perhaps?”
    I nodded.
    He said, “I’ll begin his neurological assessment but we’ll need his medical history, so talk to the receptionist and—”
    “I don’t know his medical history. He’s visiting me,” I said.
    The man—Dr. Stanley, I read on the picture ID hanging around his neck—looked at Finn. “What’s your name, kid?”
    “Finn,” he said.
    “You got a last name?” the doctor asked.
    “Hart,” I said, before he could answer. I could at least make this a little easier for Finn and Tom by keeping questions to a minimum.
    Stanley turned his attention back to me. “Tell Regina at the front desk everything you know—including where we can reach a relative.” He was already assisting Finn into a curtained cubicle. A woman in pink scrubs came hurrying from another cubicle to help him.
    “I am a relative,” I said. But to my own ears, the claim sounded hollow. Would anyone believe me?
    Soon I was telling the light-skinned black woman who’d ushered me through those doors what little I knew. She had hazel eyes and a warm smile, but of course her main concern was who would be financially responsible.
    That’s when I knew with certainty that to get this kid the care he needed, I would have to tell a few more lies. My stomach clenched at the thought and I remembered something my grandmother used to say: “A lie may take care of the present, but it has no future.” Such would be the case today. But still, I needed to aid a boy who’d trekked all the way from North Carolina to find Tom. I am an honest person, but honesty needed to be put aside, at least for now.
    “His name is Finnian Hart,” I began. “We don’t have insurance. Can I pay with a credit card?”
    Thirty minutes later, paperwork complete, I walked out to the van. I opened the driver’s-side door and saw Yoshi curled in Allison’s lap. He sat up, ears pricked, when he saw me.
    “How’s Finn? What did they find out?” Allison said.
    “I don’t know yet. They said the examination would take a while. I said I was his aunt and his parents were out of the country and unreachable. Can they sue me for telling fibs?”
    “You told me on the phone he’s a runaway, right?”
    I nodded.
    “In that case, you did what you had to do, Jillian. It’s like when we take in lost animals at the shelter. Someone has to care for the strays in the moment of need. We worry about the emergency situation first and the people part later.”
    I smiled, liking her analogy. “Exactly.”
    “He looked like he’s what? Seventeen? Eighteen?”
    “Tom said he’s eighteen. He looks younger to me, but he’s legal age and probably could have signed off on all those papers himself if he had his wits about him. But he doesn’t.”
    Allison stroked Yoshi’s head. “We’re fine here, so go on back inside and wait. Yoshi and I have already shared a granola bar. Never go anywhere without a granola bar, I say.”
    I noticed Allison had the quilt wrapped around her shoulders.
    “You warm enough?” I said. “I have another quilt if you need one.”
    “We’re fine,” she said. “You go on, now.”
    Turned out, I waited only an hour before they called me to the back. Dr. Stanley was with Finn in his cubicle. Somewhere, in another