“Do you need anything?” Melody asked.
Joe was lying in his back, one arm draped over his face, one knee bent, one straight.
He didn’t answer.
She thought about how he’d looked on the plane. Not good. “Want me to get you a plate of food?”
“No,” he mumbled.
“Did you take anything? For the pain?”
“Yes.”
“Is it better?”
“No.”
“Why did you come if you were still feeling bad? What are you trying to prove?”
He dropped his arm, turned his head, and looked directly at her. She could see the lines of pain around his eyes, the brackets around his mouth. “What am I trying to prove? That I’m not an asshole.”
Next to the bed was a glass of water and a prescription bottle. She put down her plate and picked up the brown bottle. A strong narcotic. She returned it to the little table. “You should probably eat something.”
He sighed. “I don’t know if I can.”
She hated to say it: “And maybe get out of those pants. They can’t be helping.”
He agreed.
He unbuckled his black leather belt, unsnapped and unzipped his jeans, and she helped pull them down his legs and over his feet and socks. By the time he was under the covers, he had a sheen of perspiration on his face. Fifteen minutes later, he was able to eat a few pieces of fruit and one of the sandwiches. When he put the plate aside, Max curled up beside him and both of them fell asleep. The bed was massive, and Melody sat on the other side, eating and flipping through channels. Occasionally she would glance to her left, at Joe and Max, and her heart would melt in a way she didn’t want it to melt.
“What are you watching?”
“
“Love Hitchcock.”
“Me too.” The room was dark except for the light coming from the television screen. “How do you feel?”
“Okay.”
He scooted up in bed and watched the end of the movie with her.
“How did you become a cop?” she asked as the credits rolled.
“My dad was a cop. His dad was a cop. It just seemed the natural thing, I guess.”
“That must have been weird, having a cop for a dad.”
“Not at all. I had a really normal childhood.”
“What are you going to do now? I mean, about the undercover stuff? Can I ask you that? Will you have to move?” She didn’t want him to move. Even though they were through, she didn’t want him to move. And she understood how conflicted her emotions were.
“I was given the option of moving to another city, or leaving undercover work. I chose to leave undercover work. I’ll just be a regular detective with a desk and a badge.”
“No secrets?”
“No secrets.”
“What about the shelter?”
“I’m staying on there. It’s part of an ongoing investigation that I’m not at liberty to go into right now, but I want to stay on. I like it. And I hope you and Max will keep coming for story hour.”
She wanted a clean cut. She didn’t want to have to see him again. He was making this so hard, but she couldn’t refuse to read stories to children who wanted to hear them.
She tossed the remote between them. “I’d better go. We have to get up early tomorrow. A driver will be downstairs at 6:00 a.m.”
He reached across the bed and fumbled for her hand. Found it. Held it. “I’m sorry. That’s all I want to say. I know I have no excuses. I knew how you felt about cops. I knew about David.”
She sensed that he wanted to say something else, that he was holding back.
“That’s all,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She got to her feet. “Come on, Max. Let’s go.”
Max stretched, then curled his paws over his face and snuggled closer to Joe.
“He can stay,” Joe said.
“His food and litter box are in my room.”
“Leave the door open.”
She tried once more. “Max?”
Joe nudged the cat in a weak attempt to get him to leave. Nothing. Sleeping with the enemy. But it was getting harder to think of Joe as the enemy.
Melody went back to her room, and she left the door open.
Max waited until Melody was settled, waited until she’d turned off the light, and then he joined her in her bed. His ploy hadn’t worked. Of course he wouldn’t stay the night with Joe if Melody wasn’t there.
He was looking forward to tomorrow. He hoped his long-lost sister or brother might see him on television, recognize him, and they could somehow reunite. He wasn’t sure how, but he hoped. Of course his plans had failed before. Look at Joe and Melody. But had it really been a failure? She’d been happy for a while, and he
Melody wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close. “Oh Max. I adore you.”
He purred loudly, adoring her right back.
Would his siblings recognize him through the television? Without being able to smell him? He might have to do something very Max to get their attention. Maybe his signature move.
Chapter 16
“So how did you two meet?” Ellen asked.
Melody explained about Max. About how he’d ended up at the shelter where Joe worked. And that Melody’s address was on Max’s collar, and Joe brought Max home.
“Oh, Max again,” Ellen said.
The audience laughed. The audience laughed all the time, even when nothing was funny. But Max was okay with that. Ellen was even cuter in person than she was on TV. And she smelled good. A little like dogs, but also like soap and clean clothes. And coffee. With cream. And maybe like the sandwich she’d eaten before the show.
It was time for his signature move. Something he and his siblings had come up with years ago while watching Michael Jackson on television. Max called it the cat walk.
He jumped out of Ellen’s arms.
“Oh, I guess he’s tired of me,” Ellen said.
Everybody laughed.
Max stood firmly on all fours, then began walking backward.
The audience really laughed then.
So he did it some more.
Ellen was laughing so hard, tears streamed down her face. Max didn’t understand the big deal. He jumped on
