believable.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as if to attempt to wipe the foul taste of the killer’s sin from his mouth. “I want this guy.”
“I want him, too,” she said.
“No, I mean when we get him, I’m going to be on the kill team. My dagger goes into his black heart first.” He made an angry stabbing motion.
“I wouldn’t mind being there with you,” she said gently, trying to temper his emotion. She hesitated. “Look, I gotta go. I’ve got those agents from the Baltimore office waiting for me.” She walked past him, patting him on the arm as she went by. “Catch up with you at the car later? We’ll find a place to stay, grab something quick to eat before I make the meet.”
“We talking double bed or singles?” He lifted a brow suggestively.
“I’m monogamous, Arlan. I have a boyfriend. I’ve told you that, what? Like a hundred times in the last year.”
“You never know when the answer will be different.” He turned around to watch her go, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Catch you later.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. See if I can talk to my kitty buddy. Maybe find some cat chow.”
Fia smiled to herself as she walked away, wishing she could fall in love with Arlan.
Arlan chatted with the tabby again, gave a half-hearted chase after a mouse in the toolshed with him and then wished the cat good luck. As Arlan walked, in the dark, back toward Fia’s car parked up on the main road, he wondered what would become of the dead family’s feline. Would a distant relative or neighbor think to take him home, or would he be forgotten and left to live on his own? Arlan found it sad, but there were animals all over the world left behind like Tabby. Arlan couldn’t save them all. There were days when he could barely save himself.
There were cat rescue centers, though. Maybe, once he got home, he would give the local rescue organization a call. Surely they could find a good home for Tabby.
Arlan was leaning against the hood of the car, wishing he had a cigarette, even though he rarely smoked, when he heard Fia’s voice. She was approaching the road from the driveway, talking on her cell.
“Ma, listen to me. You have to calm down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
Fia paused, then responded. “No, no, don’t put him on the phone. Dad’s less communicative calm than you are hysterical. Isn’t anyone else there? One of the boys?” Another pause. Fia was on the street, walking directly toward Arlan. Her high-heeled loafers tapped hollowly on the pavement. “No, not Aunt Mary. She’ll have had her sherry by now. Isn’t there anyone else there? Where’s Fin, Ma?” She looked up at Arlan. “Regan called home,” she told him. “He never made it back from Greece. He’s in some kind of trouble.” She looked down, speaking into the phone. “Ma, either you have to calm down or you’re going to have to call me back.”
She looked up at Arlan again. “I don’t know what to do with her. I can’t understand what she’s saying.”
“She say where he was calling from?” Arlan felt an instant pang of guilt. He shouldn’t have left Athens without Regan. Procedure or not. Fia’s brother had been headed for trouble for months. Arlan should have known this was coming. “She know where he is?” he asked.
Fia shook her head. “Ma, I can’t come home tonight. I have an appointment I can’t—Ma, please stop crying.” Fia ran her hand over her silky hair, obviously at a loss. “Ma…”
“You want me to go home?” Arlan offered. “Let me talk to her. I can get a rental car and be there in less than three hours.”
“Ma…Ma, how about if Arlan comes over? You tell him what Regan said and—” She was quiet for a second; then she looked at Arlan. “She wants me,” she said, seeming nearly defeated. “I can’t deal with this,” she told him, her hand on the mouthpiece of the phone. “I can’t deal with her right now
John B. Garvey, Mary Lou Widmer
Liesel Schwarz
Elise Marion
C. Alexander London
Abhilash Gaur
Shirley Walker
Connie Brockway
Black Inc.
Al Sharpton