Page 17 of Catnapped

“Nah, we just all have our gifts.” Carson’s eyes case the whole gas station.

“Can I help you with something?” the kid behind the counter asks.

“The cameras outside. I need to see the footage.” Carson’s tone is firm and full of authority.

“Yeah, and I need to get laid.”

Kids these days!

The boy's eyes shift over to me, and he leers. I let out a small gasp and try to step behind Carson, but by the time I do, he’s already in motion. Reaching over the counter, he grabs the kid by his shirt, pulling him halfway over it. It sends a box of lighters and another of mints falling to the floor, scattering in all directions.

I stand there in shock. Carson has a bit of a temper.

Definitely badass.

11

CARSON

The shithead yelps. “I didn’t mean–”

“I don’t need another word out of you, son. Show me where the surveillance footage is. Now.” I shake him a little for emphasis as his eyes bulge.

He opens his mouth then snaps it shut. With a trembling chin, he jerks his head toward the door behind him.

I drop him, and he crumbles to the floor with a slight wheezing sound.

“Come on.” I take May’s hand and lead her around behind the counter.

The kid stares up at me, his mouth tightly shut as I push through the door into a storage room. A screen glows toward the back, past boxes of paper towels and motor oil. The room has a pungent odor even though the window at the back is cracked for ventilation.

“You don’t think he’ll call the police?” May asks, her tone nervous.

“Not a chance.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder to an old tomato jar stuffed with buds. Beside it, there’s a digital scale. “It’s legal plenty of places, but not here. He’s got a little side business going that he doesn’t want the cops anywhere near.”

“Oh.” She squeezes my hand. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”

Warmth seems to puddle in my chest. She’s worried for me. Has anyone ever worried about me before? I can’t recall. I’ve had plenty of coworkers over the years, and I can always count on Squirrel to get me whatever intel I need while I’m out in the field, but I’ve never let anyone close to me. I’ve never felt the least bit inclined to make friends. But May? She’s different. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something between us, something that seems far older than the few hours we’ve known each other.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” I lean over and wake up the ancient desktop on the table beneath the monitor. “I have plenty of ways to avoid trouble if it ever comes.”

“All your secret spy connections?”

I nod. My connections and cash. Cash actually goes a lot further than connections a lot of times, but there’s no need for me to spoil the illusion for her.

“All right, let’s roll it back to the day when the cat disappeared.” I sit in the creaky office chair and palm the mouse.

She leans forward, her scent washing over me. Warm and sweet, like vanilla and honey mixed. It reminds me of the way she tasted.

“Um, I think you went too far,” she says.

“Shit.” I got lost in my thoughts. I quickly run the video back to the proper date and slow it down. “It should be right around here.” The camera isn’t the best, and it’s angled to where it only catches a piece of the road. This may not be the lead I was hoping for.

We run through it slowly, eighteen-wheelers and passenger vehicles passing by at intervals. The road out here isn’t terribly busy, especially not at rush hour.

“That one?” She points to a red Mercedes speeding past.

“Too flashy. Whoever stole that cat doesn’t want to be noticed.”

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