Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles #3) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,105

your day,” he murmured, still stroking her face.

“Sorry you had to experience the Freddy Effect. People come into our orbit and they are tragically swept into the gravitational pull of his idiocy.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ve all got family members that make us want to go back in time to destroy that particular bloodline.”

Max laughed and stepped around Zé, but she stopped and added, “By the way . . . smaller cats don’t usually fuck with bigger ones. It’s a tiny matter of survival.”

“You fucked with ’em.”

“Of course I did. I’m not a cat. I’m a fuckin’ honey badger and by this claw”—she held her hand up—“I fuckin’ rule.”

chapter NINETEEN

Zé walked into Starbucks and saw Kamatsu sitting at a table, no doubt nursing one of her herbal teas.

“You want anything?” Max asked, motioning to the counter.

“Regular coffee,” he said.

“Okay.” She caught his arm before he could move off. “And don’t forget that whatever lie you tell is for the safety of others.”

“Right. I can do this.”

“You can do this.”

By the time he was heading directly to her table, Kamatsu had already spotted him. Neither of them liked to sit with their backs to the door. Wisely, she’d grabbed a round table that allowed them to sit on either side and monitor the activity around them.

Kamatsu grinned when she saw him, standing up and giving him a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you, too.”

They sat down opposite each other and Kamatsu’s smile instantly faded.

“What the fuck’s going on?” she practically snarled at him, keeping her voice low so she couldn’t be heard by others over the piped-in music. “I thought you were dead. Where have you been all this time? What happened to your phone? And who was that guy who came to David’s office and took the report?”

“Well—”

“Whoever he was,” she continued, “he or somebody hacked into my computer and online storage and took all copies of the report. I have no backups. I have nothing. Did you tell them to do that?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what is happening? You better tell me right now.”

“Hi!” Max said, bouncing over to the table with two venti coffee cups and a large plate of honey buns.

“Can we help you?” Kamatsu asked.

Max’s smile never wavered. “Nope!”

She put a coffee in front of Zé, pulled a chair over, and sat close to him. She pushed the plate sort of in the middle of the table and offered, “Honey bun?”

Confused and pissed, Kamatsu sat back in her chair. “No.”

“Zé?” He shook his head. “Cool. All for me.”

She dragged the plate close again and dove into those things as if she hadn’t had two of her sister’s giant blueberry muffins in the car. “So what are we talking about?” she asked around a mouthful of bun.

* * *

Ruth Barton walked down the street with her friends. She-bears she’d known for years, since she’d moved into the neighborhood with her husband and four cubs. Of course that was twenty years ago and times had changed. Nothing she couldn’t handle, though. Her kind were survivors, after all.

Thinking about changing times, she stopped in front of what everyone in their little neighborhood now called “The Honey Badger House.” She wasn’t a fan of badgers. Mostly because they ate her honey. She and her husband had hives and since these badgers had moved in, those hives had been raided more than once. It was annoying.

But any time she complained, her husband insisted, “But have you tried that oldest one’s honey buns?”

She had and he was right. So, for now, she kept her mouth shut. But still . . . stay out of her hives!

After letting out a grunt that had her friends chuckling, she unlocked the gate in the picket fence and stepped into the front yard. The oldest badger was sitting on the porch steps, so Ruth didn’t have to knock on the door or go into the house. She could simply drop off the tray that her husband had taken when he’d brought home a dozen honey velvet cupcakes from the party the night before. It had turned into his breakfast.

“I wanted to return this to you,” she said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Barton,” the badger said, taking the tray and setting it down next to her. Then nothing.

Which was strange, because usually when Ruth dropped off trays from her hubby, Charlie had something to complain about. Not to Ruth or even about Ruth, but just complaining about everything in her life. Something about her allergies. Something about