She sounded almost wounded. Hell, he didn’t want to hurt her. He cared about the woman way more than he ought to, and to be honest, while he’d never believed in this kind of psychic bullshit–had actively refused to believe in it–she had him wondering. Her childhood tale was goddamned heart-wrenching.
Unlike his chief, he didn’t believe she had any real knowledge of or connection to the killer. He was on her side in that. And while technically, he was supposed to be working here, getting close to her to get the truth out of her, he was really with her because he wanted to be. And he was starting to believe in her abilities.
“This kind of thing takes getting used to, Megan,” he said, aware she was still waiting for him to reply. “It’s never been a part of my experience. That’s all.”
He turned the car into the parking lot in front of a twenty-four-hour convenience store, and they went inside for the cat food.
Frisky Cat, tuna flavor.
Then they drove to Linda Keller’s address, and he easily located the key in the fake rock. Too easily.
He picked it up, took the key from the compartment in the bottom, then held the rock out to Megan. “This is way too obvious,” he said. “She might as well leave the key in the door.”
“Oh? Where do you suggest people leave a spare key?”
“In their pocket.” He put the key into the lock and opened the door.
Megan came in behind him, carrying the cat food. The biggest cat he’d ever seen came bounding toward them with a plaintive meow, and proceeded to rub itself against Sam’s leg. Megan located the cat’s dishes and filled them. The cat pounced on the food as if starved, though Sam estimated he could probably live several weeks without a bite. She filled the water dish, too.
Sam saw the collar, heard the jingle of the tags that hung from it, and out of curiosity, crouched down to take a look. He read the tag with the cat’s name, Roderick, engraved on it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
“Got the name right, too, didn’t I?”
He glanced up at her.
“Wish I could get the name of our killer that easily.”
“So do I.” The voice of reason, and force of habit, told him it wasn’t proof of anything. Hell, now that he thought about it, the victim could have told her about the cat back in the park, while he was chasing after the perp.
But he didn’t really think so. “So are we set here?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She squatted down beside him and stroked the cat. “You’ll be okay for the night, won’t you, boy?”
A throaty purr that did not interrupt the feeding frenzy was the beast’s reply. She rose again, and Sam did, too, walking to the door, pocketing the key. “Tomorrow we’ll take this to her at the hospital. Leaving it where it was is just asking for trouble.”
“You’re the expert.”
They walked out to his car, and he drove the rest of the way to his home, a small, two-story box in a residential neighborhood. He wasn’t that surprised to see all the lights on and three cars lined up along the roadside out front. “The troops have arrived,” he said softly.
“I thought you lived alone.”
Was that a hint of disappointment he heard in her voice? He searched her eyes to see for sure, but there was too much going on in them for him to pick out or identify any one emotion.
“I try to live alone,” he said, offering a smile to lighten things up. “With my family, it’s not always easy. At least they left me a parking spot this time.” He pulled into the driveway, which was only big enough for one car, and shut off the engine. Before they even got to the front door, it was opening and people were spilling out. Sam waved to them and tried to look happy to see them.
“Megan Rose, let me introduce my family. This is my mother, Evelyn, and these are my sisters, Sabrina and Shelby.”
Evelyn smiled and nodded hello to Megan. “I’m sorry if we’ve interrupted a date, dear.”
“Please, Mom,” Sabrina said. “It would have been over in a couple of hours anyway. They don’t call him One-Night Sam for nothing, you know.”
He felt Megan flinch, realized he still had a hand on her arm, and promptly released her.
“It’s not a date,” Megan said quickly. “It’s business.”
“Megan’s a witness to a crime. Now do you mind parting the waters and letting us in?”
The women exchanged curious glances, but moved aside. Sam and Megan went in, and he saw that his grandmother was there as well, sitting in his favorite chair, watching a football game on his big-screen TV.
“Told you he was all right,” she said, barely looking up. “Hello, grandson.”
“Hello, Lily.”
“These hens heard over the scanner that you were chasing after a murder suspect and got worried. I told them tonight wasn’t the night.”
“I’m fine, as you can all see.” He frowned, sniffing the air, turning toward his mother again. “You cooked, didn’t you?”
“Oh, just a little,” his mother said. “As long as we were here, you know, we thought it wouldn’t hurt to toss a few potatoes into the oven.”
“Smells like chicken,” he said.
“Well, the oven was already hot. No sense wasting gas, you know.”
“And cake?”
“I hate to leave an oven rack empty.”
“Mm-hm. Nothing like a full-blown meal at eleven p.m.”
She smiled. “I'll just go set an extra place for your guest.”
He closed his eyes slowly, then turned to Megan. “They’re staying for a post-dinner dinner.”
“I got that.”
“You, girl!” his grandmother called. Megan turned her head sharply, and the old woman waggled a finger at her. “Come on over here and sit with me. It’s halftime anyway. You may as well be polite.”
Megan blinked in shock, sending a look at Sam. “Sorry,” he whispered.
She smiled, an amused, indulgent smile, and went to obey his grandmother’s summons.
Chapter 8
Megan sat alone with Sam’s grandmother, while his mother and sisters coerced him into the kitchen, obviously wanting to talk to him in private. The old woman had a face like aged leather and twinkling blue eyes. She had short curly permed hair, and wore a pair of faded jeans and a sweatshirt that was two sizes too big. It had a fat cartoon cat on the front, with the caption Cats Rule. Dogs Drool.
“I’m Lily,” she said. “You’re my grandson’s flavor of the week?”
“I’m Megan.” She offered her hand and the old woman took it, then paused, frowning, squeezing tight, and looking more closely at Megan’s face.
“Megan,” she repeated and released her hand. “They come and go so fast, I don’t bother learning their names. Yours though, maybe I will. You have any pull with Sam, girl?”
"Pull?"
“Influence. Does he listen to you?”
“I really haven’t known him that long, Mrs.–”
“Lily. Just Lily.”
“Lily.” Megan wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but the woman had her curious. “Why? What is it you would want me to...influence him to do?”