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Mitch rolled his shoulders before following his brother inside the house.
Hal sprawled in an easy chair watching television, the bowl at his feet now holding only brown kernels. Mitch zeroed in on the other empty chair. “Did Cathy take you up on the popcorn?”
His brother nodded and muted the sound. “Cox is on fire tonight. He made six three-pointers in the first half.”
“Forget Cox. Tell me how it went with Cath. You guys make up?”
“She’s all right.” Hal stood and arched his back. “You have my blessing.”
“For what?” Mitch raised an eyebrow.
“Whatever you have cooking with her. She went upstairs to take a nap. You must have kept her busy last night.” Hal wiggled his eyebrows.
Heat climbed his neck. Dammit. Was he reverting to his teenage years?
He and Cath had been gone all night, and Hal merely made the routine assumption. None of his brothers needed to know exactly where he and Cath went last night or where they’d wound up. She wasn’t going to be around long. Not if he knew what was best. And he did.
No point in Hal getting the wrong idea. “She’s just a friend.”
Hal’s mouth turned down like he didn’t believe that. “Gotcha.”
The upstairs bath was dark and the door open. His bedroom door wasn’t latched, and he fingertipped it open. “Cath?”
Light from the hallway fell on the kitten asleep on the bedcovers. Tiger nestled in the folds of rumpled gray sweatpants, the same sweatpants Cath had been wearing when he’d said goodbye.
His gut kinked up. He flicked on the room light and pressed a fist against the jamb. Dammit. She’d promised not to leave.
The charging cord for the phone hung from the outlet. She must have grabbed her cell in a hurry. He opened the bedside table drawer and sank onto the bed. She’d forgotten her pistol.
Mitch absently stroked the kitten. Violent men were searching for her. Men as vicious as the felon he and Jack had arrested tonight. No one had followed them from the jail. He hadn’t seen any unfamiliar cars lurking at the end of the street either. But the drug dealers might still be close to finding this location. He had to make sure they didn’t do that. He had to make sure they didn’t find Cath. He had to make sure he found her first.
Mitch pulled his phone, paged through his contacts, and called her.
With each unanswered ring, his pulse rose a notch. She’d apparently taken her cell, but she wasn’t answering. Because she lay in a gutter somewhere bloody and senseless?
She picked up and his shoulders settled. No, not Cath, her voicemail. Hell. Mitch identified himself. “Where are you? Let me know?”
He pocketed a spare clip for his pistol and raced down the stairs to find Hal. “Did Cath tell you where she was going?”
Hal closed the dishwasher. “She’s not upstairs?”
“No.” Mitch propped his hands on his hips and looked around the kitchen for clues as to where Cath could have gone. “You didn’t hear her go out, huh?”
“Maybe she told Kurt.”
Jack strolled in from the office, brown beer bottle between his fingers. “He said he was going out when I called him from lockup. I didn’t see his wheels so I guess he did.”
Mitch hadn’t even noticed the missing vehicle, still recovering from that mini-PTSD episode. He should have been more aware. “Did Kurt leave before Cath went upstairs?”
“Yeah, he left.” Hal nodded. “She went up after Kurt left.”
“But you didn’t hear another car after that?”
“She could have caught a taxi at the end of the street.” Hal wiped his hands. “Hey, where are you going?”
* * *
Was that Les? With those other people in that dark corner up front? Cath rose on tiptoe and squinted across the bar at the shadowed faces there. What was she thinking? Les wouldn’t be sitting around with other people. He’d be looking around for her.
