A searing pain in my neck woke me. I had fallen asleep at the kitchen table and had come-to in a twisted, hunched-over mess. I felt stiff in places I didn’t even think about. I needed a Magic Fingers massage.
The house felt a little lonely and I knew Chance was gone before I opened my eyes. There was a soft blanket around my shoulders and he’d placed a long-stemmed red rose on the table. And he left a goofy love note under a glass of fresh squeezed OJ. I love that about him. He’s got all the romance genes I lack.
Sam I Am’s live image was splayed on my laptop and his sad eyes made an ache in my heart. My credit card was on the table. My tablet was open to a Central Illinois dog rescue called Holy Shih Tzu. I searched four rescues sites in the night before I found a blond bombshell Pomeranian that was a shoe-in for Sammy. Down to the white boot on his front right foot.
His name was Thor and I fell in love with him in a red hot minute. At four-thirty a.m. I paid the adoption fees with my Visa. Thor was coming home to Inga and me.
Inga pranced over with a big ol’ smile on her face, ready for our morning run. She dropped her leash in my lap. I stretched my sore neck and winced.
“Sorry, girl. I gotta skip our run. I’m goin’ with a hot shower.”
I opened the back door and she trotted outside all snotty. She didn’t glance back.
“Be nice,” I called after her. “I found a grateful replacement for you on Google.”
I took a long, steamy shower, letting the hot, pulsating water work on the tight muscles of my neck. I was a wet mess of bubbles when my phone rang. Usually, I’d let the call go to voice mail. But there was a good chance my wildly eccentric mechanic was on the line. Jack has made my cars purr since I was sixteen. He’s a magician under the hood, but he’s temperamental. And easily put off. I didn’t want to piss him off again.
I fell all over myself scrambling out of the shower.
My soapy hands grabbed the phone and my voice was breathless. “Jack?”
His response was cool. “Caterina. You left a message at four a.m. Can I assume you blew up someone else’s car?”
Okay. He was still pissy. Last year Jack’s beloved Dorothy bit the dust on my watch. Jack’s father had bought the ’67 Ford Mustang straight off the assembly. It was awful. But it wasn’t my fault. It’s not like I planted the bomb.
I called Jack because I was without wheels. The Silver Bullet was doing surveillance at the Dreamscape Motel.
I managed a light laugh. No small feat before a flipping cup of coffee. “No bombs, Jack. Thanks for returning my call.”
He grunted. “Your Accord isn’t due for a tune-up until next month.”
“I’m looking for wheels, Jack. I need a loaner for a day or two.”
Oddly enough, Jack’s been touchy about trusting me with a car since Dorothy’s demise. It wasn’t a good time to suggest he get over her. But even Father Timothy thought Jack should be happy his dad and Dorothy were together again.
Jack gasped. “You wrecked your car.”
“Nothing like that. I’m giving her a rest. I just need a loaner.”
“You lost her. You lost the Silver Bullet.”
“I didn’t lose her, Jack.”
“I don’t believe you. I want a picture. Evidence of life.”
“I’ll text one.”
“With today’s Times headline.”
“Jeez, Jack. Can you give me a car or not?”
“I might give you Marion. If you’re gentle with her. She’s a lady.”
Seriously?
I squinched my eyes closed and smacked my forehead for not calling Hertz.
“Thanks, Jack. Nothing bad will happen to Marion. I promise.”
“I remember that’s what you said about Dorothy.”
“Do you remember what Father Timothy said?”
He sniffed. “It was a nice service.”
“Thanks, Jack. I’ll catch a ride to your shop.”
“Don’t think about showing up here without your mama’s cannoli. I got a big crew.”
“And I got a big Tupperware-full.”
“My favorite is toasted almond.”
“Well, today it’s chocolate.”
I rinsed off the bubbles, blow-dried and fastened my hair in a soft French braid. I reached for my phone a half dozen times to call Rocco. I needed to tell him I found Sam I Am. But each time I tucked it away again without pushing Send.
I didn’t know what my brother would do if he knew Sammy was being held at the Dreamscape Motel. I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t charge to room seven with guns drawn and sirens blazing. Sort of like Grumpy, the unlikely seer, predicted last night. But I trusted Captain Bob’s solution even less. He wanted Uncle Joey to send an assassin. In the end I did what I wanted. I gave myself a day to keep my secret and stir up some trouble of my own.
I was working my way through a bowl of Cheerios and a cup of java when my cell phone boomed, “They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Haaa!”
I picked up. “Sophia! I was about to call you. We need to talk.”
“Open your door. I’m on your porch.”
Click.
I hurried down the hallway to let her in but she jammed her thumb on the bell until I got there. When I opened the door, she barreled inside.
“What’s up?” I said.
“I’m a detective, dammit. I want my badge.”
“You’re still in training.”
“I graduated.”
“In one day?”
“I’m a fast learner.” She stomped to the living room and plopped on the couch. “The training was intensive. Brutal. I still can’t feel my legs.”
“Max said you quit early.”
“I quit while I could still walk. I want a badge like Cleo’s.”
“Talk to Cleo. I’m not sure where she got it.”
That was true enough. I’ve always suspected she found it in a box of cereal.
“Cleo’s badge looks cool. It can scare people.”
“Maybe if you’re eight and playing cops and robbers.”
“And you have to call Max. Tell him I’m done training. Tell him I have a badge and a gun.”
“A gun?”
“Well, I’m getting a gun.”
“You tell him.”
She shuddered. “I can’t. The guy is brutal.”
“So, you’re over your crush then.”
She giggled. “Are you kidding? That man can wear the shit outta a pair of jeans.”
“Crap,” I said.
I brought Sophie into the kitchen and made her a cup of coffee. She pulled Mama’s Tupperware out of the fridge and I took it from her hands. I sprinkled some toasted almonds on top and shoved the Tupperware back in the fridge. I handed Sophie a peach.
“Sorry, Sis. The cannoli goes to Jack. I need you to drop me at the shop on your way to Holy Shih Tzu.”
“I’m not changing my religion.”
“God, no. What would Father Timothy do without your daily updates? Holy Shih Tzu is a lapdog rescue and adoption in Champaign.”
“No one goes to Champaign.”
“No one goes to Cleveland. Champaign is cool. And it’s not that far.”
“It’s still a schlepp. Why would I go there?”
“Because you’re on a case.”
“I’ll need a gun.”
“Seriously? Yesterday you wouldn’t shoot anyone.”
“Yesterday I wasn’t a detective.”
Geesh.
I stuffed a manila envelope in her hand. “Here’s the address and the adoption papers. I spoke with the foster family this morning. They’re expecting you.”
“Oh.”
Sophie looked disappointed. I reminded myself that she was having an adventure.
I lowered my voice. “The dog you’re picking up is part of a top secret operation. What you’re doing today could divert a crisis for the Chicago Police Department and Bridgeport’s Ninth Precinct.”
Cleo’s face brightened considerably.
“Make sure you’re not followed. And until this case is over, Operation Thor is top secret. Don’t tell anyone you left town or that you brought a dog to this house.”
“Is it okay if I tell Mama? I’ll need her to stay longer with the kids.”
“God, no. Especially not Mama.”
“I’ve never lied to Mama.”
“What kind of daughter are you?”
I was beginning to think Sophie deserved all Mama’s silver.
She gnawed on her lip. “I suppose I can say I’m working late.”
“Perfect. And you’re still not lying.”
We went to my office and I rummaged through Cleo’s corner desk. There were M&M’s, romance novels, two pistols, some loose ammo, and a few back issues of PI Magazine. I found Cleo’s silver star under a Beretta Firearms catalogue. Its prickly point was dangerously close to a pack of bubble gum-flavored condoms.
“Aha! Cleo’s badge. You’re in luck, Sister.” I slapped the silver star in her hand. “Congratulations, Detective. This is already the longest week in my life.”
“You mean—?”
“Yes. The badge is yours.”
I hadn’t seen Sophie so excited since she was sixteen and won the Miss Bridgeport competition. She got to sit on Santa’s lap during the whole Christmas parade. He looked way too cheery.
“What about Cleo? I mean when…”
Her brow furrowed and her words hung in the air.
“You mean what happens when she can’t find her silver star?”
Sophie’s troubled eyes blinked and she nodded.
“It’s all good,” I said. “I’ll tell her to eat more cereal.”
I left Sophie in the office and got ready to be dropped off at Jack’s. I put the dishes in the sink and grabbed the Tupperware of Mama’s cannoli from the fridge. I texted Chance and asked him to call me when the DNA results came in for the honey-colored hair I pulled from the intruder’s head during our scuffle at Captain Bob’s.
I called to Sophie from my room. “Sis, I’m ready!”
She hollered back. “How do these things fit in here?”
Before I could ask what she meant, my phone blasted “Wild One.” It was my assistant, Cleo Jones. She was out of town for her sister’s wedding.
I picked up. “Hey, girlfriend.”
The voice on the other end was snarky. “What’s going on, Cat?”
“Cleo?”
“So you do remember me.”
“Do I? You’ve been gone three whole days.”
“So, what? I’m dead to you now? Is that why you gave my job away?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sophie. She’s at my desk as we speak.”
“Oh. She’s helping me out when you’re gone.”
“What does she do there?”
“She makes me as crazy as you do.”
“I doubt that’s possible.”
“You underestimate my sister. How’d you know she was here? Cuz if you have a camera on your desk, it’s gonna be weird.”
“Sophie called me. She wanted to know how to load a bullet into a chamber….”
Holy crap!
I dropped the phone and sprinted down the hall from my bedroom. There was a loud pop as I charged through the office door. The shot grazed my hair and I felt the hot breath of the bullet on my ear.
“That’s how it works!” Sophie said.
I staggered back a few steps and I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed the doorframe to keep from crashing.
“Oops,” Sophie said. “My bad.”
When I found my legs again, I crossed the room in long strides. I took a plastic storage container from the shelf behind my desk and tossed everything inside that could get Sophie in trouble. Guns, ammo, Cleo’s spy toys—like the pen with a secret blade, and especially the bubble gum-flavored condoms. I left her the candy, the romance novels, and Cleo’s silver star. On second thought, I took a Cadbury bar with me.
I don’t know about Rocco, but when my life flashes before my eyes, I need chocolate.
“Stay,” I said.
I carried Cleo’s stuff to the kitchen and opened the secret compartment behind the pantry. I placed the storage container by the dusty bottles left over from Prohibition. Then I shut myself in the pantry with my back against the wall and ate my Cadbury bar. I took my time. When I returned to the office, the wobbles were gone.
“You have chocolate on your mouth,” Sophie sang. She was wearing the silver star.
“No, I don’t.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
Sophie stared at my lips and flicked a finger at the side of her mouth. “You missed….”
I held up my hand. “Stop. No more guns until Max takes you to the shooting range.”
Her lips formed a pout. “Why don’t you take me?”
“Cuz I just might shoot you.”