“You bet. Bye, Pita.” He stepped back and I got into the Corvair and rolled down the window.
“I always knew you were a big softie!”
“Excuse me?”
It was a good thing the exit gate was on sensor and would open as soon as I approached it. I grinned and drove off while the getting was good.
* * * *
My cell phone rang at 8:02, “That’s What Friends Are For,” and I grabbed it up. “Paul! How’s Spike?”
“Oh, God, babe, I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since eight yesterday morning.” And now it was almost thirty-six hours later. “I tried and tried calling him, and it goes right to voicemail, and none of his friends have seen him, and no one at work knows any—” His voice cracked. “—anything.”
I knew why he was so upset, beyond the fact he loved Spike. One of our boys had gone out one night and hadn’t come home. Less than a week later his body had been found in Fort Washington, and what had been done to him before he died….
“Is Vince there?”
“Yes. His flight got in about an hour ago. He made some phone calls, and now he’s making dinner. But Theo, how can I eat—”
“You have to, for Spike.”
“What if he doesn’t come home?”
“He’ll be home, Paul,” Vince called. “And as soon as I get some food into you, I’m going to see someone.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Jesus. Okay, but you have to eat. Tell Theo goodbye and you’ll call as soon as we know what’s going on.”
“Theo—”
“I heard him, babe. Go. Just remember to call me.”
“Theo!” Vince called again. “How’s the cat?”
“Huh?” Paul sounded confused. “Why’s Vince asking about Miss Su? Is something wrong with her too?”
“She’s fine, Paul. Vince has a cat. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No.”
“Well, he does. Tell him she’s fine. Miss Su made sure Pita knew who the boss was, and things have been copasetic since then.”
“I’ve got to be the only…Jesus, my cat’s a submissive.” I could picture Vince shaking his head. “Say goodbye, Paul.”
“Goodbye, Paul,” he parroted, and there was a slight smile in his voice. Thank God for Vince. “I promise I’ll call as soon as…I’ll call.”
“Okay. I love you, babe.”
“What?”
“I said—”
“You never say that.”
“I do now.”
“Awesome! Theo? I love you too.”
“Dinner’s getting cold!”
I said goodbye, hung up, and checked the clock. Wills should be coming home soon. And then I felt guilty, because he’d be coming home, but who knew when Spike would be back?
* * * *
About an hour later, my cell phone rang again, but since it played the sultry notes of “Temptation,” I knew it was Wills calling.
“Hey, babe. Should I start getting dinner ready?”
“I’m sorry…this is going to be another one of those nights. I have to work late.”
“Vince said you had a nap.”
“Yeah, I caught some Zs this afternoon, and I’ll probably crash here later tonight, but—”
“What about dinner?”
“I’ll have to miss it.” He sighed, and I could picture him running a hand through his hair, leaving it with that disheveled look that always made my fingers twitch with the urge to run through it and smooth it down. “I heard about Spike. I wish there was something I could do, but Mr. Vincent will take care of it.”
“I…I know.” And I loved that he cared enough about Spike to want to help, even though he didn’t know our littlest boy. “Wills, how about if I bring dinner to you? I made stew.”
“Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I’ll pack up the Crockpot and drive on over.”
“Sounds good, babe.”
“Is Ms. Di Nois there? Should I bring extra plates and silverware?”
“Yeah, would you? Winchester is here too.”
“Who? Never mind, let me get myself together, and I’ll see you in about half an hour. Oh, we have a guest staying.”
“Shit. Maybe it’s not such a good idea that you leave them alone in the house.” He lowered his voice. “I left my handgun in the closet.”
“That’s okay. She won’t touch it.” I couldn’t help laughing. “It’s Vince’s cat.”
“Mr. Vincent has a cat? And she’s staying with us? Yeah, that makes sense if he’s out of town. Go, babe, and I’ll see you soon.”
* * * *
I didn’t want to make a couple of trips transporting everything, so I had to do some judicious packing, but fifteen minutes later I had everything in the Corvair and was on the road, having backed out of the drive without scraping the side this time.
Maybe it was because it was a Wednesday, but when I turned into the rear parking lot of the building where Wills worked, I found a spot close to the employees’ entrance, which was a really good thing. I went around to the passenger side, opened the door, and retrieved the Crockpot and the bags holding plates and silverware and a couple of French baguettes, still warm from the oven.