“Yes, yes, of course. A friend of mine is cat-sitting. She won’t mind,” Amy said.
“Give her a call sometime during the day,” Hunter said.
Amy hadn’t had a chance to wrap her hair up again yet. Her hair was long and shimmering, softly framing her face. Hunter caught himself staring. “Well, all right. We’re going to head straight back to the Unitarian church and find Pastor Colby. Ryan, head to breakfast at the diner. Linger and listen. I’ll be in touch as soon as we’re out.”
“Okay. Am I dressed right for this?” Ryan asked.
He was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a tan bomber jacket.
“You’re fine,” Hunter told him. “We don’t plan on denying you’re an agent. Just don’t mention it unless you find it necessary. We need to get eyes on this community.”
“I’m Roman Catholic,” he said. “I can check out afternoon Mass if you want.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“I checked the times—six, eight and then six in the evening,” Ryan said.
“Times for the working man and woman,” Hunter said. “Fine. Okay, so...let’s move. Amy, you set?”
She nodded. When she’d said ten minutes, she meant ten minutes.
“Ryan, get going to the diner. Amy, let’s stop by the office before we leave.”
They headed out together, but Ryan headed for his car.
Hunter noted that Ryan was driving a typical dark agency sedan; he was glad his was an SUV, blue instead of black. Not that it meant anything—he and Amy had clearly identified themselves as law enforcement officers, and it was likely Ryan would wind up doing so, too.
But sometimes, when they were in a position where they weren’t ready to state who they were, there was something about agency cars—besides the tags—that gave them away.
They headed for the motel office. Martin Sanders was behind the counter, as he had been the day before. There was a stool back there he was sitting on, busy on a computer while also petting the large gray cat lying at the computer’s side.
“Beautiful cat,” Amy said.
Sanders beamed. “She’s Kitty—just wandered in one day and stayed. Probably because we fed her and fell in love with her.”
“She looks like a Maine coon,” Amy said.
“I think so, too. Of course, we don’t know anything other than she wandered into the right place,” Sanders said.
Amy stroked the cat. Good move, Hunter thought. Sanders seemed to like her.
He looked over at Hunter. “Was everything all right?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, thank you, very comfortable,” Hunter said.
“Good, good!” Sanders beamed, but then he frowned. “Oh, okay—so you’re staying on?”
“Is that all right?” Hunter asked him.
“Of course. I figure you’ll have your rooms another few days?”
“That would be great,” Hunter told him.
“Was anything wrong?” Sanders asked.
“Actually,” Amy said, “we were just hoping you didn’t have any problems around here.”
“Problems?” Sanders appeared honestly confused.
“We thought we heard someone or something out at the trash last night,” Hunter told him.
“Oh, well, we do have raccoons.” He laughed. “At least I’ve only had raccoons! The ranch about five miles south of here, they came out one morning to find a big old gator in their swimming pool. Now, we’ve never had anything like that. Of course, we don’t even have a pool, so couldn’t have a gator in one. Not to worry—we keep our eyes on the trash, and yes, we do get critters in it now and then. Sorry if they woke you.”
“No, no, not to worry,” Hunter assured him. “We just figured if you did have trouble, you’ve been great to us and we’re here—well, we wanted to help out.”
“That’s good of you, folks. But no, not unless you want to arrest a few raccoons.”
“Not on the list today,” Amy said lightly. “Hunter, this is the most gorgeous cat.”
“Is Kitty a boy or girl?” Hunter asked, stroking the animal, as well. He was standing so close to Amy that he felt her warmth.
She smiled as they shared the silky touch of the animal—even if it was an act, in a way.
And he noted how much he liked it when she smiled, that her eyes glimmered. He’d thought her severe. He realized now she was just dressing for the job.
“Kitty here is a girl, but she won’t be having any kittens. I hate to think of all the animals that don’t have families. Pet owners need to be responsible, right?”
“I absolutely agree,” Hunter assured him. “Well, we’d better get going for the day. Thank you, and again, we’re here, you know, if you need help with anything.”
“Sure—and thank you!” Sanders said.
Amy sighed softly, leaving the cat. When they were in the car, she asked, “Well?”
“Something.”
“Something evil—or something good?”
“I don’t know yet. What did you think?”
“Hard to hate a guy who wants to be a responsible pet owner.”
“True. But we did put away a serial killer once who donated huge sums to his local shelters. He went out of town to murder people.”
“Don’t go blowing all my faith in humanity,” Amy said lightly. “The jury is out on Sanders. Maybe he saw us running around the motel last night and was prepared for the questions.”
“Maybe he’s protecting someone—as in our Billie.”
“That is possible. But why not let her come to us?”
“He could still not be sure about us. Some people don’t trust cops, agents or law enforcement in general.”
Amy nodded and then said thoughtfully, “We’re near the church. Back to Pastor Colby. I had the impression that Detective Mulberry was familiar with this area. But I don’t think that he knew anything about Morrison having given the church money.”
“I agree. I’ve known Mulberry a few years, but not that well. And remember, he’s been called out here before, but he’s working a big county. You might ask if he knows more about that church when we meet with him next.”
“You don’t care if I do ask?”
“Not in the least. I’d like any info we can get.”