D.b. Hayes, Detective

“Knock it off, you’re giving me a headache.”

Obviously they didn’t care.

Since there was no sign of the Honda in either direction, I decided there was little point in driving around aimlessly looking for it. I should have enough pictures to satisfy Mr. Russo for one night.

It was an uneventful trip back to Ohio if you didn’t count the ruckus the cats made. I counted it. Particularly when they started hissing and snarling at each other. One of the Sams nearly gave me a heart attack when he leaped back over the passenger seat, bounced off the box and landed on the floor beside me.

“Hey! Beat it! I’m trying to drive here.”

He hunkered down on the floor and hissed at me. It was a fun trip. Mickey had given me forty-two dollars to find the cat, but there wasn’t enough money in the world to put up with this. At least they stayed out from under my feet while I drove, but I lived in fear the whole way home.

I’d never been so grateful to park in my life—until I remembered I was going to have to find some way to smuggle the two cats inside without being seen. My apartment doesn’t allow pets. They barely allow humans.

When I reached for the nearest cat, it drew back and took a swipe at me. Since my hand was still throbbing, I decided not to argue without protection. I hurried inside the building, dug out my winter leather gloves and a jacket and went back to the parking lot to play big-game hunter.

I’m sure it looked vastly entertaining to anyone watching—as long as that anyone wasn’t the super. I hoped that nosy woman was absorbed in her television at this hour, because she and her husband lived in the building and they didn’t miss much.

Sam One was actually a pretty easy catch. He struggled briefly but almost seemed to welcome being dumped back inside the box. Maybe Sam Two had scared him. As long as he wasn’t hurt, that was fine with me.

I carried the box inside and set it on the living room floor while I went back outside for the litter, litter pan and food I’d purchased and put in the trunk. Sam One seized the opportunity to escape the box and disappeared behind a chair. Fine with me. It’s a small apartment. There weren’t too many other places he could go.

I got a dish of water and set everything on the bathroom floor before I went back out to try and catch Sam Two. He had no interest in letting me near him again, treats or not. He didn’t intend to be taken without a fight. The little beast put a hole in my jacket and ruined my gloves before I got him out of the backseat and into the box.

If there had been anyone in the lobby or on the steps as I ran upstairs with my yowling prize, I’d have been given an eviction notice on the spot.

The moment I plopped the box on the living room floor, the ungrateful little beast pushed up the flap and took off down the hall to disappear inside my bedroom. Not good. I did not want that cat in my bedroom. But after peering under the bed and being stared down by a pair of defiant green eyes, I decided he could stay. I wasn’t up for another battle.

After zapping a frozen dinner to fill my stomach, I decided I’d better download the photos before calling it a night. There was an especially good one of the hunk. I framed out the face and blew it up for a closer look. Despite the grainy texture his features were clear. He had light-colored eyes, probably blue, and rugged, sharply defined features.

I traced the square face on the screen with a fingertip. It was a strong face and very symmetrical—the face of a man who took charge and got things done.

“In a hurry,” I added aloud with a snicker as I remembered how short a time he’d spent in the motel room. “So much for gorgeous hunks. You really should get a haircut, you know.”

But instead of deleting the picture, I printed it out along with the others and set it to one side before I carefully marked and stored the memory stick. By the time I’d typed up my notes into a report, I was yawning. There hadn’t been a sound from either of my unwanted guests, so I went in search of them.

One was still under my bed. The other was squished behind the blue hand-me-down sofa in the living room. I worried that he might be stuck back there, but when I would have moved it out from the wall, he proved me wrong by wriggling even farther back from the end.

“Fine. You want to spend the night back there, be my guest.”

I wasn’t quite as happy about the one under my bed, but as long as he stayed put, we’d be fine. I set my alarm so I wouldn’t oversleep and got ready for bed.

I needn’t have bothered with the alarm. The catfight woke me before eight. Even I’m not enough of a zombie to sleep through noises like those, especially when the sounds were coming from the foot of my bed.

“Knock it off!”

The sudden silence was almost as loud as the fight had been. I swung my legs off the bed and one of the Sams streaked out of the room. The other one must have gone back under the bed because there was no sign of it.

Great. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning and I was wide awake. My body clock doesn’t normally start until mid-morning, after a couple of diet colas. Obviously this was not going to be a normal day. I’d be very happy when Mickey claimed Mr. Sam so I could take the other cat to the animal shelter.

By the time I was dressed and ready to leave, I decided I was risking all-out war by leaving the two of them together unattended. I made a second makeshift litter box out of the cardboard box by cutting it down and lining it with aluminum foil. I left it in my bedroom with Sam Two and a second bowl of food and water.

I actually got to the shop ahead of my aunt and Trudy and utilized the time by setting up for the morning. I had coffee brewing and had started on the first of the day’s arrangements by the time the pair arrived.

“Well, you’re here bright and early this morning,” Trudy greeted in surprise.

“How did your evening go, dear? I thought you wanted to borrow my car last night,” Aunt Lacy added.

“The evening was…interesting,” I told them, “and it turned out I didn’t have time to borrow the car, but it worked out okay. Mr. Russo is sending someone over to pick up his report first thing this morning. And if a young boy named Mickey shows up looking for me while I’m busy, keep him here at all costs.”

“A young boy?” Trudy said, raising one eyebrow in question.

I hated when she did that. I’d been trying to do it ever since I can remember, but my face just isn’t built right.

“He’s ten,” I said to head off the direction her thoughts were taking.

It was part of a grand conspiracy, of course. My entire family figured if I got married, I’d give up this silly nonsense of being a private investigator. And what their matchmaking lacked in subtlety, it made up for in sheer volume. Any male in the right age bracket was considered fair game.

“Dee,” Aunt Lacy said in an urgent whisper. “There’s a man standing at the front door. I think it may be Mr. Russo’s, uh, person.”

Her alarmed expression brought me around the counter in a hurry. The man standing on the other side of the glass door didn’t move. I had the sense he was prepared to stand there indefinitely, like the boulder he resembled. Solid, unmovable, timeworn yet sinister in a way I didn’t want to define.

A craggy gray face perched over a gray silk tie on a gray silk shirt under a light gray pinstripe suit. If he had a neck, it wasn’t obvious, but then boulders rarely have necks. Central casting would have loved this guy. Even his hair was turning gray at the edges. The only part that looked alive was a pair of incongruous light brown eyes, and they didn’t miss a thing.

He’d seen me, so there was nothing for it but to open the door and let all that sinister gray inside the colorful shop. He was going to look out of place. If that man had ever been inside a flower shop in his life, I’d eat the daisy in my hand.

“Ms. Hayes,” he said when I unlocked the door, “I’m Hogan Delvecchi. Mr. Russo sent me.”

A nervous giggle tried to break free. I suppressed the urge—barely. This was too much like some bad television show—a softly spoken gangster with an Italian last name. And Hogan? Was he kidding? No, I could see he wasn’t. There was certainly nothing humorous in his expression. And he seemed to have only the one—a blank stare that absorbed the details of everything around him without revealing his thoughts. I was pretty sure his face was incapable of smiling. Human boulders don’t have a sense of humor.

Everything about the man gave me the creeping willies. I worked hard not to let it show.

“Come in, Mr. Delvecchi. I’ve been expecting you.”

Well, not him. No one in their right mind would expect him. And the thing was I wanted him gone as fast as possible. I would never doubt Trudy or my aunt’s sources again. If this guy didn’t have underworld connections, no one did.

“I’ll just get my report.”

My heart hammered its way up my throat when he followed me back to the office. He closed the door as I reached for the folder on the end of the desk. I caught him staring at the scratches on my hand.

“Did you have any problems?” he asked.

“N-no.”

I was not going to explain about the cats, nor would I think about how the couple had left the motel when I wasn’t looking. It was all in the report. I knew it made me look bad, but what could I do? I wasn’t about to lie to a mobster. On the other hand, I wasn’t going to mention my failings to this guy if I didn’t have to.

“Good. Mr. Russo would like to have the picture of his wife back.”

That surprised me, but I pulled it from her file. Hogan Delvecchi reached a broad hand inside his suit jacket. My breath caught in the back of my throat. With slow deliberation he pulled out a slim piece of paper and extended it to me. A check, I realized in relief.