Tracy lifted Pussy off the table and turned to hand him to me, but I took a step back, knowing perfectly well what happened last time I came into contact with him. The last thing I needed was another naked man incident. Oversized wild cats were one thing, but cats that turned into ridiculously handsome men? I suspected even super-sweet Tracy couldn’t be trusted with that secret. I held my hands in the air and grimaced. “You know what, I’m actually pretty allergic to cats. Do you mind helping me get them back into the crate?”
Concern filled Tracy’s eyes as she looked up at me. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle three large cats like this if you’re allergic to them? If you can’t manage them...”
I bit my lower lip and stared at the three furry faces watching me from the floor. I had just escaped one asshat of a man, I didn’t necessarily need three more popping up in my life. But giving away three humans-turned-cats, or cats-turned-humans, or whatever the hell these three were didn’t seem like the right decision. Tracy brushed my sleeve with her hand. “Do you want me to call the wildlife department, Price? I have a friend in there, a good woman, she could help.”
I shook my head with unexpected strength. “No, absolutely not, I’ll be fine. These were Agatha’s cats and they belong in her home. It’s nothing an antihistamine can’t fix. But if you don’t mind.” I motioned to the massive crate on the ground. “I’d appreciate the help.”
Tracy looked at me for a long moment and then shrugged, an easy smile returning to her face. “Whatever you say, Price.” Her smile broadened. “I think you guys are going to make the perfect little family.”
I scrunched my face as I watched her herd the three cats back into the crate, poor Pussy reluctantly going in last. “Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. “Thanks again for seeing us, I really appreciate it. Shall I go check out with Frankie? How much do I owe you?” I tried not to flinch, thinking of the pittance left in my bank account.
Tracy brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s been my pleasure. My little welcome to the neighborhood gesture.”
Gratitude swelled like a wave in my stomach. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. You’ve been so kind, I can’t tell you how much I mean that, especially with everything that’s going on.”
Tracy’s strained smile hinted that the rumors about Agatha’s death had reached her ears. “If you ever need anything, Price, you know where I am.” As I took hold of the massive crate and hauled it out the door toward the front lobby, she placed her hand on my shoulder. “The offer for coffee still stands, if you’re ever up for a chat or some girl time. I know how lonely it can be in a new city without any friends. You have one in me if that means anything.”
I turned back to her and gave her a tight smile. “That means more than you know, Tracy. Thank you.”
Moving as fast as I could without seeming rude, I hauled ass out of the vet’s office and dragged the heavy son of a bitch crate the few blocks back to the house. I swear, the journey back to Agatha’s seemed twice as long then it did on the way to the vet’s. I slowed as we neared the house, my eyes falling on the parked police car in front of the large three-story building. I stopped at the foot of the stairs to catch my breath, practicing my normal breathing routine to try and steady myself.
“What’s the holdup, Pricetag?” Pussy hissed through the gaps in the crate, strain evident on his furry face.
I tried not to move my lips as I responded. “The cop is already outside the house.”
The black cat arched his back and pressed his face against the crate as if he might be able to squeeze his way onto the street and confront the cop. “Pull it together, Price,” Tom hissed. “Stop acting so nervous, because you’ll definitely look guilty.”
“That helps tremendously, thanks, Fluffy,” I snarked. “You should be a life-coach.”
Finn’s green eyes blinked at me. “You’ll be perfectly fine, Price. Take a deep breath and go in there. You did nothing wrong, you’re innocent, and kind, and lovely. Everything will be all right.”
Despite myself, I felt the knot in my stomach loosen in response to his words. I gritted my teeth. “Okay, that’s enough out of you, Three Stooges. Shut up and act like cats or else Bert will have even more questions for me. Jail is bad enough, I don’t want to end up being shoved in the loony bin because of you guys.”
Grateful for their cooperative silence, I walked slowly and painfully up the steps to the front door, refusing to glance over my shoulder at the cop car. The same shadow of guilt I felt every time I was pulled over even if I wasn’t speeding tugged at my brain. It was an illogical, but powerful response to authority that I’d had for as long as I could remember. I definitely had nothing to do with Agatha’s death, but still the fact that Officer Bert sounded so serious on the phone and hung up on me made me exceptionally worried. I frowned at the front door, unlocked and ajar, and stepped inside.
The stairwell was empty, but light streamed from the open door to the apartment above. I frowned as I hauled the crate up the narrow staircase, grateful for the mornings I’d spent swinging kettlebells over my head and dragging old tires through the snow with my boot camp buddies while Gerard slept off his late nights at work.
I grunted as I reached the top step. Late nights at work my ass. “Hello? Officer Fitzgerald, you in here?” I didn’t add that he was a rude, ignorant, punk for letting himself into my home uninvited. I dragged the crate into the apartment and peered into the living room. I froze. A broad, gray-haired man, who I assumed was Bert, was sitting in a chair in the front family room, twiddling his thumbs as dear old Agatha flew around him making gestures obscene enough to color my cheeks. A moment of panic overtook me before I realized he couldn’t see her, but I glared at her anyway. A gyrating granny was the last thing I needed while I got grilled by Officer Fitzgerald.
“Are you all right? You look like you just seen a ghost,” Officer Bert said to me as he pushed himself up off the chair. He offered a curt nod, which turned immediately into a frown. “I appreciate you coming so quickly, Priscilla.”
“Price, please,” I said to him, offering him a small smile. I placed the crate down beside me. I suspected that so long as I didn’t touch the cats or say any magic words they wouldn’t turn into humans, but it wasn’t a hypothesis I was willing to test in front of a cop who thought I was guilty of murdering an old lady. No matter how cute they were as men, or how nice it would be to have them standing between me and Officer Bert’s long arm of the law, opening the crate would be a bad idea. The thought of long bodily appendages brought an entirely different image to my mind and I straightened my shoulders. Get it together, Price, you’re not a damn teenager. I turned to the cop. “Thank you for coming to see me, Officer. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t expect you to let yourself in. Do you have a key? Were you and Agatha close?”
I didn’t want to aggravate the cop, but it would be no harm to show him I wasn’t some two-bit bimbo he could harass and bully into admitting guilt. And if he didn’t have a key? Well, he’d better have a darn warrant or I’d be slapping a charge for breaking and entering on the table. The officer looked down at me with a creased brow, drawing himself to his full height. “The door was open, Miss Jones. You called for me to come in.”
Behind his back, Agatha pretended to stroke the officer's shoulders, her hands creeping down his arms and toward the buckle of his belt. I let out a strangled yelp and the police officer took a step forward with his hands outstretched. “Miss Jones?”