As she sat there, she heard a distressed feline wail. The officers jerked, turning toward the Dumpsters that sat along the fence on the opposite side of the truck.
“Fat Cat.” She jerked the door open as an orange blur jumped from the ground into the truck.
He was wailing and meowing plaintively as he tried to burrow beneath Alex’s coat.
Janey slammed the door closed and relocked it, then wrapped her arms around the heavy cat and stroked his fur.
“Where have you been, bad cat?” she whispered as he meowed again, a sound of mingled anger and fear. “Are you okay?”
She ran her hands over him, but nothing seemed hurt. He huddled at her side beneath the coat, his head sticking out, his topaz eyes glaring up at her.
“I know, I’m late. I’m sorry. Bad mommy, huh?” She stroked his head, almost smiling mockingly at her own words. “It’s okay. I’ll give you extra hamburger tonight. How’s that?”
As though he sensed the little reward, he laid his head on her lap, but his heavy body still trembled. Fat Cat didn’t like strangers in his territory evidently.
As she stroked him, she watched Alex, the sheriff, and Natches move from the office and head up the stairs to the apartment. They spoke briefly to the two officers; Rowdy and Dawg were still in the restaurant for some reason.
She stared at Alex as he moved behind the sheriff but in front of Natches, to the small landing. The door opened, a thin wedge of light spilling from inside.
That was what she hadn’t seen earlier. There was a light on inside the apartment. And Janey had been careful not to leave any on when she left.
“Who was here, Fat Cat?” she asked the feline quietly, still stroking his fur as she fought the panic trying to rise inside her.
She was shaking as hard on the inside as the cat was on the outside. And she was horribly afraid that her insistence on staying here, in Somerset, was going to end up hurting someone other than herself. Natches or Alex would end up hurt. Or both. And she didn’t know if she could live with herself if that happened.
Alex shoved the Glock into the back of his jeans, propped his hands on his hips, and glared around the room after they’d finished checking the apartment. Natches and Zeke were reading that letter, again.
Alex didn’t need to read it again. He’d had enough of it when Zeke first unfolded it. The filth in it was enough to make a grown man sick.
More of the same bullshit with a little addition about corrupting good patriotic men. Give him a f**king break.
The officers with Zeke were finished dusting for prints, and Dawg and Rowdy were giving the restaurant a last check before collecting Janey and bringing her up.
Zeke pushed the note into a plastic bag, secured it, and dated and signed it before shaking his head and moving to the door.
Natches stayed. He turned, glared at Alex’s neck, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Don’t start, Natches,” he warned him. “I’m not in a bullshit mood right now.”
“That’s my sister you’re jacking around with,” Natches accused him.
“Yeah, and it’s my sister one of you was jacking around with last year,” he bit out.
“Not me,” Natches argued.
“Yeah, well, one of you is just as bad as the other.” Alex sighed in irritation. “Get the f**k off my back.
Nothing you say is going to change a damned thing.”
“She’s going to try to leave,” Natches told him warily then. “I know her. She thinks I don’t, because I let that bastard send her away. But I know her, Alex. She’s going to try to leave, thinking it will protect us.”
“She’ll change her mind.” Alex moved through the living room, pacing it off.
He could feel something teasing at him here. How the hell had someone gotten into the apartment without activating the alarm? There were no hidden doors. There was no other way in. All the windows were secure. They’d checked the closets, checked the walls themselves. Nothing.
“And what makes you think she’ll change her mind?” Natches retorted. “That f**king hickey on your neck?”
Alex stopped and turned his head slowly. He stared back at Natches, feeling the itch under his skin, the
need to loose the pent-up violence raging through him.
“Keep pushing me.”
There was no “or else.” They both knew the “or else.” They could fight it out, but it wouldn’t change a damned thing.
“Hell,” Natches muttered.
They heard Dawg and Rowdy coming with Janey and that wailing cat. Hadn’t Alex fed that little monster earlier?
Janey stepped into the apartment, ignoring the tension between her brother and Alex as Fat Cat jumped out of her arms and ran to his missing bowl.
“Bowl’s on the porch.” Alex looked at Dawg.
Dawg stepped outside, retrieved the empty dish, and set it down. Fat Cat smacked him, claws bared.
“Little bastard,” Dawg growled. Then he snarled at the cat.
Janey picked up the bowl and moved to the fridge, where she filled it with the fresh hamburger she kept on hand for the cat.
She stayed silent. Fed the cat and filled his water bowl before turning and moving through the kitchen.
She turned the corner and headed for her bedroom.
“Janey.” Natches followed her to the hall. “We need to talk a minute.”
“I have to change clothes.” She shook her head, keeping her back to him. “I’ll be out in a little while.”
She closed the bedroom door and leaned her back against it, drawing in a shuddering breath. She could feel the sobs building in her chest and she hated it. Hated it. She hated crying, she hated the sense of helplessness it filled her with, and she hated trying, trying so hard to play the perfect little girl and never succeeding.
Shaking her head, she pushed Alex’s coat from her shoulders and tossed it over the bottom of her bed.
The heels and stockings came off next. Then the skirt and top. She only distantly realized she had forgotten to put her panties back on.
In the bathroom she showered, scrubbed the makeup from her face, and lathered her hair. She had to go shopping tomorrow, she decided. If being the good girl didn’t work, then screw them all, she’d be who she wanted to be. She was tired of hiding. Sick to her back teeth of being protected.
Drying off, she moved back into her bedroom, and drew on the long cotton pants she used to sleep in.