Hot Damn(36)

I smile a little to myself. Thor curls in close, not trying to get away. He’s warm against me, and I can feel his heart going pitty-pat—so fast. The cherry picker starts to go lower.

“You’re a complete moron, you know?” I tell him quietly. “That was a really stupid thing for you to do. Stay in the house. You have no idea how to take care of yourself outside. You’ll end up getting hit by a car or some dumb-ass dog will eat you.”

I pull him a little closer. He blinks at me and meows. As the cherry picker comes down, Thor rubs his face across my cheek. Great. Now I’m covered in cat spit. Perfect. But he’s vibrating in my hands, and I realize I’m feeling him purr.

He’s purring. Is it even remotely possible that he might be starting to like me? There’s a swell of hope inside me that I know has more to do with Lacey than with her stupid cat, but it’s there nonetheless.

I come down from the cherry picker to the sound of cameras clicking. There’s a small crowd gathered around the truck, and everything from professional cameras to iPhones is going off in my face. Great. I’ll probably be all over the local news tonight.

Just what I need.

The crowds disperse fairly quickly, hurried along by the other firefighters, most of whom are still smirking at me. I head toward the house, still carrying Thor. Maddy’s been waiting for me, and she puts her arms out as soon as I come close enough.

“Give him here,” she says, but I shake my head.

“No, he’s fine. I’ll just hang on to him.”

She smiles a little, but her forehead is still creased with worry. I don’t blame her.

Thor is shivering, so I keep hold of him while I take a seat on my couch. Now that the cat is safe, I’m starting to build up a good head of anger.

“Somebody broke into the house,” I say quietly, trying not to upset Thor. Or Maddy, for that matter, although I know she’s perfectly aware that’s what has to have happened. “Somebody broke in here, left the note, and tossed Thor out the window.”

“Why would anybody do that?” Maddy’s face has gone pale. She wraps her arms around herself. “I can understand breaking in to steal something, but this? It makes no sense.”

I shake my head. It’s starting to make sense to me, but I don’t want to spell it out for her.

“You should call the police,” she tells me, and I keep shaking my head.

“No. There’s not enough evidence.”

She’s quiet a moment, then she plants her fists on her hips in that way she has and glares at me. “You know who did this.”

“I have a suspicion.” It’s hard for me to keep the growing rage out of my voice. I’m going to find Curry and I’m going to pound his face in. Then I’m going to do it again.

“Who. Who do you think it is?”

“Curry.” I say his name through clenched teeth.

She drops her confrontational stance. “Why in the world would he do something like this?”

“I don’t know, but he’s had it out for me since I was appointed interim fire chief. He wants the job—thinks he deserved it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. You think he’d do something this petty?”

“Yes.” Her protest makes me aware of how ridiculous it sounds, but I don’t know anybody else who would want to interfere with my personal life in that way. I don’t have any bitter ex-girlfriends lurking around.

“Again, Jesse—why?”

I fling up a hand, which makes Thor turn his head and give me a look. At least he doesn’t bite me. That’s an improvement. “He’s fucking nuts.”

Maddy crosses her arms over her chest. I can tell she’s still skeptical, but at least she’s listening. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jesse.”

“I won’t.” Not yet. I’m going to bide my time. Sooner or later Curry will cross a line that’ll make it easy for me to pin him to the wall. Then I’ll make my move.



Thor finally heads off for a nap in his cat tree as if nothing ever happened. I kind of miss holding him. For a little while there, I actually started to feel like I was doing something right by my sister.

I try not to think about it too much. Instead I fire up the grill and get ready to cook burgers for Maddy and me for dinner.

I’m just about to fire up the charcoal when my phone buzzes.

It’s Whitaker. Dude. Turn on your TV. Local news.

I frown. What’s going on? I text back.

Just turn the TV on.

I head back inside and flip on the TV. And stare at it, mouth open as I listen to the reporter speak.

“This was the scene in a suburban neighborhood this afternoon when interim fire chief Jesse King found himself in the stereotypical position of rescuing a cat from a tree.”

“Oh my God.” I sink into my armchair. There’s a video running in the background, and my face is featured in an inset in an upper corner of the screen.

“This post on Facebook blew up today when neighbors on the scene posted a video of King in a cherry picker coaxing down a reluctant cat. An individual on the scene let us know it’s actually his own cat. The kitty belonged to his late sister—”

“Shit piss fuck.” I turn off the TV and grab my coat. Apparently I’ve got some explaining to do.



Chief Pilsner is in his office when I get there, but he’s not alone. Curry’s already there, waving his arms and making a big hairy deal about everything.

“…how much money did he cost the taxpayers with that show?”

“Curry—” Pilsner starts, but Curry’s on a roll.

“He’s got to be out of his mind. You know he hasn’t been the same since she died—now he’s diverting equipment from actual emergencies to fish her cat out of his own damn tree?”

Chief catches sight of me standing outside his office door. “King,” he says, and Curry’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m glad you’re here. Come on in.”

I come in, shoving my hands in my pockets, ready to get dressed down like nobody’s ever been dressed down before. “Chief, let me explain—”

“Just have a seat, King.” He gives Curry a baleful side-eye. “You too, Curry.”

We both sit down. Curry is almost shaking, he’s so worked up. He pointedly refuses to look at me. Pilsner pushes to his feet.

“So here’s the thing,” he says. “No, it’s not the best thing to call out the trucks on your own cat.”

“I told you—”

“Shut up, Curry,” Chief snaps.

Curry shuts up.

“However…” Chief pauses, waiting to see if Curry will interrupt again. For once, Curry demonstrates some intelligence and keeps his mouth shut. “However,” Chief repeats, “that video has gone nuts on the Internet. Something like 200,000 shares on Facebook alone. People love it.”

Curry snorts in disbelief. “You have got to—”

“What part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?” Chief growls. His attention shifts to me. “Every news station in the metro area wants an interview with you. I’ve got the media department for the district talking to the person who took the video—we want to buy the rights and put pictures up on our website. We’ve got donations pouring in from everywhere—even outside the state of Washington. This is a windfall for us, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how this came about.”

I glance sidelong at Curry, trying to fight back my own smirk. Curry’s face has gone scarlet. He’s so angry I can feel it coming off him in waves. There’s certainly no point bringing up the reason the cat was out in the tree in the first place, not after Curry’s been smacked down so hard. And he can’t very well claim credit for what happened, not without admitting he broke into my house.

“Would you believe me if I said it was my idea?” I ask Pilsner.

“No, King. I would not.” He hesitates, coming about as close to a smile as he ever does. “But if you did, good job. We’re going to be able to expand our educational programs, neighborhood outreach—you name it. Stroke of genius.”

I nod, grinning. “So…you said some people want to interview me?”

“Yeah. A lot of people.” He picks up the phone on his desk. “Let me get the PR department on the line so they can talk to you.”

With an incomprehensible but definitely angry sound, Curry gets up and storms out of the office. I glance after him. Pilsner is focused on the phone call. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him, and follow Curry.

Curry’s heading for the men’s room. Good. I trail him in, everything in me primed for a fight. It’s quiet inside—apparently nobody in the department needs to pee at the moment. The door swings shut behind me, and I turn and lock it. When I face Curry, he’s staring at me.

“The fuck is your problem, King?”

I let the anger go. Before I quite realize what I’m doing, I’ve got him by the collar and I’ve pinned him to the wall. “Don’t you stand there and act like you don’t know what you did, Curry.”

“I don’t know—”

“The fuck you don’t know. You broke into my house. You scared the hell out of my girlfriend. You ever—ever—do anything like that again, and I will end you. You understand me?”