Her face brightened. “Yeah. I’ll send someone out to you.”
As the back door closed, I gave my full attention to the wiggling kittens crawling on top of my legs. I’d never had a pet as a kid, and my teaching schedule had kept me from my apartment for long hours, which had never seemed conducive to caring for a pet. But I had to admit the kittens were tugging at my heartstrings.
A dark gray one seemed fascinated with my fingers, batting at them and then crawling under my hand as though trying to force me to pet it.
I picked it up and held it to my chest, giving it some good pets, and grinned when it started to purr.
“Looks like you found my favorite,” a woman said as she walked out the back door onto the porch.
I glanced up to see a woman in her mid-thirties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a pair of pale-yellow scrubs covered in parakeets and cockatiels.
“He seems to have picked me,” I said.
“She’s really good at that,” the woman said with a friendly smile, but the corners of her mouth looked like she was holding them a bit too high to be natural.
Why was she acting strangely? Was she worried I’d take the kitten away?
“Is this one taken?”
“No, they’re all available. It’s hard to get people to take kittens or puppies around here. Dime a dozen. We’ll probably be stuck with them for months.”
I cringed, hating the idea of the kittens being stuck in a crate for that long.
“I was thinking about getting a pet for me and my landlord, but I work long hours and it would be difficult for him to chase around after a puppy. I’ve heard cats are pretty self-sufficient, so I figured a kitten might be a good option.” I’d had no intention of adopting a kitten when I’d walked in, but now I was beginning to give it serious thought. Maybe a kitten could keep Hank company while I was gone all day. “I’ve heard cats don’t want much attention, but this one seems to like it.”
“Cats are a lot like people. Some people are huggers. Some people don’t want to be touched. If you actually are here looking to adopt a kitten and want a snuggler, that one is the way to go.”
Frowning, I said, “What makes you think I don’t really want to adopt a kitten?”
She put a hand on her hip. “I know who you are, Carly Moore. You work at the tavern and you used to date Wyatt Drummond. You’ve never stepped foot in this place, yet you walked in two days after Heather Stone was dug out of the side of a mountain. It’s as plain as day you aren’t here for a cat. You’re here to see me.”
“So that would mean you’re Abby Atwood,” I said.
“Dr. Abby Atwood Donahey,” she said. “DVM.”
“I love your clinic,” I said, still stroking the kitten. “Very homey.”
“It’s way too small, but there wasn’t much available in Drum and I don’t see a ton of patients, so the cheap rent works to my advantage.” She frowned. “I take it you’re here to ask me questions about Heather.”
“What makes you think that?” I asked out of curiosity.
She leaned closer. “Rumor has it that the last time Lula Baker took off, you got it in your head to go looking for her, not knowing her history, and put Greta in danger with your snoopin’.”
The official story was that Lula had taken off and come back on her own—not entirely untrue—but the other part of the story was a whopper: our explanation for Greta’s kidnapping was that her ex-boyfriend had kidnapped her for a few days until Todd Bingham found out and made him let her go. Greta’s abusive ex was one of Bingham’s men, and Bingham had convinced him to go along with the lie. And he’d given him a well-deserved beating to go with it.
But I was betting Abby Atwood Donahey knew none of that. “Greta’s kidnapping had nothing to do with Lula. Her ex-boyfriend got tired of her refusing him and tried to force the issue.”
She shrugged.
Something told me honesty would go a lot further with her, so I said, “Look, you’re half right. I would like to ask you some questions about Heather, but I’m also interested in a kitten. I’m working far too many doubles, and my landlord’s usually alone for hours. He might like a pet to keep him company. From what I understand, kittens litter box train themselves, and I’ll only have to change the litter box every few days.”
She studied me as though trying to discern my truthfulness. “It does sound like a kitten would suit your home life better than a puppy. Especially if Hank’s havin’ trouble gettin’ around with one leg.”
So she knew I was living with Hank. I wasn’t exactly surprised considering everything else she knew. Although we’d never met, the town gossip mill was strong. “He’s getting around better than you might expect, but that’s not to say he’s fit to chase down a puppy.”
“How does Hank feel about gettin’ a cat?”
I gave her a half smile. “He doesn’t know yet.”
Fighting a smile of her own, she said, “Well, maybe you should make sure he’s okay with a new addition to the family before you commit.” She tilted her head. “You know, most people were surprised when they found out you were living with him.”
“So I heard.” Some had claimed I was there to cheat Hank out of his money, although the man lived frugally in a house in major need of updating. But Hank had been the top marijuana dealer in Eastern Tennessee, and rumor had it he’d acquired a fortune. I’d seen no evidence of it, nor was I interested in his money other than to make sure he had all he needed to live comfortably. Truth be told, I was the
