Page 12 of Hot Under the Collar

“I told him he was in big trouble, but it didn’t faze him.”

“Yeah, threats are pointless when you’re talking to a guy who has no shame.”

Lynne smirked over the edge of her thermos. “So you speak from experience.”

He glanced around at the dimly lit bar, leather stools, and grainy wood, and noticed a mug of coffee that had already gone cold sitting on the bar top. Everything smelled cleaner this morning, like fresh citrus. Not the fryer oil-cigarettes-beer odor it smelled like the previous night. Lynne’s hair was pulled back, her shoulders tense. She must’ve been busy cleaning when she discovered the cats. She looked exhausted. So exhausted, he wanted to give her a hug. But the expression on her face indicated it wouldn’t be welcome.

“Chop chop,” she instructed him, pointing down the hall.

He tried to listen for the cats, but all he could make out was the thrum of the refrigerator and water dripping from a nearby sink. Then there it was—a breathy mewl he might’ve ignored had he not known what he was walking into.

“Fred? Come out here, buddy,” he called softly. “You can’t run away from this one.”

Fred peeked his head out of the utility closet immediately, but he didn’t trot toward Leo. His whiskers were stiff, his ears up and forward like radars. He twitched his nose at them then crouched back inside.

Leo sighed. “I hate to say it, but you were right about getting him neutered. I should’ve tried harder.”

Lynne scrunched up her nose, resisting the “I told you so” he knew she wanted to blurt out. But she thought better of it and muttered, “Well, yes. I mean, you tried. But, also, yes.”

They inched toward the closet door until Leo could see the litter, kittens curled up and snuggled into each other, covering every one of mama’s limbs. His eyes caught the red sheen of the fire extinguishers he’d given Lynne over the years. “So that’s where you keep them,” he whispered. “I just figured you threw them all away.”

“Priorities, Leo.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Well, what do we do now? I can try to get them upstairs if you want.”

“Mrs. Ellery said not to move them yet. And I don’t have any place ready upstairs if we did.”

“We could put them in a bathroom,” he suggested. “Safe, door closed.” When she frowned at him, he added, “Temporarily, of course.”

“I just want to wait a bit until we hear again from a vet or Cali’s rescue friend in Eastmoor. Tabitha has a spare pop-up cat playpen and non-clumping litter at her grooming salon. But she can’t run them over until her next break in appointments.”

“Why don’t I just try to lift them in the box they’re already in?” He lowered his thermos to the floor so his hands were free.

“I don’t know,” Lynne cautioned. “Mama cat’s really protective right now, and Mrs. E said to not to scare her away. She’s going to hiss at you and bolt. Then we’ll lose their milk source.”

“I’ll be careful,” Leo said, “and slow. It can’t be any harder than getting a cat down from a tree, right?”

“You’ve done that?”

“Are you kidding? It’s like a rite of passage at the station. It should have its own division.”

He got down on his knees beside the closet, then he took the can of cat food out of his pocket and peeled back the top. Mama opened her eyes at the sound. “It’s okay, girl,” he told her softly. “We’re just going to get you and the kids somewhere safe.” Mama glanced up and offered him a couple slow blinks.

No hisses yet. Good start, he thought.

Lynne’s voice found its edge. “I’ve got a bad feeling, Leo.”

She bent down beside him and held her breath. But just as he reached the can toward the box, Lynne’s hand grasped his wrist and held it there. He turned his gaze and saw the panic in her eyes, the way her pulse had quickened.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she told him.

Then a bang! startled them both. It sounded like it came from the main barroom. Lynne dropped his hand, and mama cat let out a low growl as another bang! cut through the air. Fred ducked his head behind the fire extinguishers, trying to hide.

“What the hell?” Lynne hissed. “Now? The sign says closed! How much clearer can I be?”

“Maybe it’s Tabitha?” he offered.

Lynne nodded, unconvinced but hopeful. “Guess we should find out.”