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No, she should call the police. With that in mind, Ruby pushed herself to her feet and walked toward the living room and the phone there. Of course, by the time she reached the couch and grabbed for the receiver, she realized that she couldn't call the police. She could swear up and down that the cat figurine had been in Zane's possession when she'd gone to bed, but she had no proof. She wasn't hurt.
A quick check of the doors and windows showed that everything was locked tight. The dead bolts were engaged on the front door and the back. To all appearances, it looked as if it would be impossible for Zane or anyone else to have broken into her house to leave the cat.
That statement alone was enough to keep her from dialing 911. Someone broke into my house to leave this cat figurine, then sneak out, leaving no other sign that he was ever here, and somehow locking the dead bolts behind him.
Deflated and wondering if she was losing her mind, Ruby collapsed on the couch, the figurine still clutched in her hand. She carefully placed the green cat on the end table, grabbed the phone book out of the table drawer, and snatched up the phone.
Zane hadn't been asleep very long when the phone rang, jerking him out of a deep sleep. Shit. Phone calls that came in the wee hours of the morning were never good. Never. He lifted the receiver and glanced at the caller ID. Shit, again. He barked hoarsely, "What's wrong?"
The voice he expected to hear
responded, "What makes you think anything is wrong?"
He breathed a sigh of
relief. Ruby sounded okay, at least. "It's almost three in the morning," he said. "No one calls at three in the morning unless something is wrong."
She breathed steadily, perhaps more deeply than was normal, but did not immediately respond. After a couple of minutes that dragged on too long, she said, "I have to know. How did you get this blasted cat into my house?"
Zane threw off the covers and leapt from the bed, cordless phone in hand as he ran into his office, which was set up in the spare room across the hall from his bedroom. Sure enough, the figurine he'd left sitting on his desk was gone. He had studied it for quite some time before retiring, but he was positive he'd left it right there.
Obviously, the cursed thing had found its way to Ruby's house. He couldn't tell her the truth. Not yet. She would never believe him, and he wouldn't be able to do what had to be done.
"Well?" she prompted sharply.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, forcing a yawn she was sure to hear.
"The little cat knickknack that was left under the tree by my secret admirer," she said testily. "I let you have it to study, but when I woke up after having a bad dream, the thing was sitting on the table by my bed. Don't play dumb with me. You put it there, and I want to know how and why."
"You changed your mind, don't you remember?" Zane said, trying to sound sympathetic. "I was going to study it. It's quite an interesting piece, and I think it might be jade, and there are small markings that I'd like to magnify and study."
"I didn't change my mind," she said softly. "You took it home with you."
"No, you kept it. If you've changed your mind I can pick it up tomorrow . . ."
"I . . . brought it in with me?"
Zane leaned against the doorjamb and took a deep breath. Guilt was an unaccustomed and uncomfortable feeling for him. He was usually unfailingly honest and forthright, but now was not the time. A lie that made Ruby question her sanity was better than the truth. "You did. Listen, are you all right? You don't sound like yourself. I can come over."
"No," she said quickly. Too quickly. "I'm just tired, I guess, and the bad dream shook me more than it should've." She laughed uncomfortably. "And apparently my memory is starting to go."
"Want to tell me about the dream?"
"No," Ruby whispered. "I'm sorry I woke you. Good night." With that she ended the call. Zane walked to the front of the house without turning on a single light. There he pulled back the curtain to look across the street to Ruby Kincaid's yellow house. Every light in the house, every light he could see from this vantage point, was on. Living room, bedroom, dining room. The nightmare, and waking to find an object she knew had not been in her possession when she'd gone to sleep, had shaken her.
"i'm sorry," he whispered to the well-lit house. "i wish i could make this go away." Unfortunately, it was much too late to make Ruby's troubles disappear.
Chapter 3
Five hours of sleep weren't enough for Ruby. She could get by on seven, but she loved to get eight good hours. When those five hours were followed by a rude awakening and a questioning of her sanity, it made for a bad day.
Fortunately, many of the students who made up her clientele were home for the holidays, and business was slow. No businesswoman should hope for business to slack off, but she could use a break, so she was allowed! A couple of her part-time employees were also away and unable to work, but Marielle, the one who had been with her the longest—three full years, now—was still in town. Marielle was perfectly capable of running the front part of the shop, especially on a slow day like today.
Ruby kept herself busy in the kitchen, only occasionally giving in to a yawn. She had lots of baking to keep her busy; in addition to the usual cookies, cakes, and pies, she had a special order for three pumpkin cheesecakes with cranberry glaze to fill.
She glanced at the clock often. Usually the day flew by, and she was surprised when two o'clock came around. Today, she kept glancing at the big clock on the kitchen wall, wondering if two would ever arrive. She wanted to go home and take a nice, long nap.
It was just past one thirty when Marielle, who wore a huge smile on her young and pretty face, stuck her head into the kitchen. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Professor Benedict is here to see you."
