One Foot in the Grave - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,36
a little late.”
“I can handle my own work hours,” I said, my tone short. “I don’t want Max knowing we had this chat.”
“Or Wyatt?” he asked with a grin. He cast a glance toward Marco. “I might not tell Max, but he likely will.” Then he added, “Not that it matters to me one way or the other.”
But it did matter to me. The less they knew about my interactions with their father, the better. While they both claimed to be estranged from him, I didn’t totally trust that. I knew they disliked him—hated him—but that didn’t mean he lacked power over them. Plus, I didn’t want them to know that he’d threatened me. I didn’t have a solid reason for that, except Hank had warned me months ago that knowledge was currency. I needed to stock up on my currency. Everyone else in this town seemed to do a good job of that, especially the Drummonds.
“Emily will have tea ready and waitin’,” he said in his sly tone. “She’ll be very excited to chat with you. I hope you don’t disappoint her.” With that, he strolled off, whistling a happy tune.
And that was the clincher to let me know I’d just been conned.
Two could play that game.
Chapter Ten
Marco was still talking on his radio, but as soon as he ended the conversation, he turned to me with a frown. “How bad was it?”
I checked the time on my useless cell phone—or at least useless for now. “Do you know when you’ll be free for lunch? I would love to bounce some things off you.”
“And here I was hopin’ you wanted to have lunch with me because of my charming personality,” he said with a grin. “Still, I’ll take what I can get. I need to wrap some things up around here, but I can be free in an hour. Want to meet at Watson’s?”
“Sounds good.”
I headed to my car and drove into town. Since I had an hour to kill, I figured I might as well make the most of it. I could stop by the veterinary clinic and talk to Abby Atwood.
There were only three cars parked in the lot when I pulled in. I still wasn’t sure what excuse I was going to use to talk to Abby until I saw a small sign out front that read, Free kittens. If I pretended to be interested in a kitten, it might give me an opening to find and talk to Abby.
The vet clinic was an old bungalow that had been converted into a business space. The waiting room looked like it had once been a living room.
“Hello,” a young woman said from the front desk. “Welcome to Drum Veterinary Clinic. How can I help you?”
She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, too young to be Heather’s high school friend. “I saw the sign out front,” I said, thumbing toward the windows. “Free kittens?”
Her face brightened. “Oh, they’re so cute! Let me take you back so you can have a peek.”
I followed her down a hallway to a kitchen. Several crates lined the wall opposite the one with the cabinets and appliances. The crates held multiple animals—a yellow lab that lay on the floor, a fluffy white mutt with a cone around its neck, and a gray and white cat curled up with multiple gray and black kittens.
“They’re not quite ready to leave their mother yet,” the receptionist said, “but they only need another week,” she said as she squatted next to the cage. “Do you see one that catches your eye?”
I peered into the kennel, overwhelmed. “Oh, my. How does someone choose? They’re all adorable.”
She laughed. “We have a play area out back. How about I take you out there and let you play with all of them and see if any of them fit.”
“Okay.”
“I’m Sasha, by the way,” she said as she opened the kennel and scooped out a couple of kittens and handed them to me.
“Carly.” I held them with both hands, then watched in surprise as she gathered four more on her own.
“Can you open the door?” she asked.
I shuffled the kittens around and turned the knob. When I walked out the door, I found myself looking at a covered back deck, half of it protected with baby gates.
“Right in there,” Sasha said, leaning over the baby gate and lowering the kittens to the deck. Then she opened the gate so I could walk in with the other two. “I’ve