Page 51 of Building What's Meant to Be

I’ve pursued all kinds of bad guys on foot, and although Twinky isn’t one of them even though I think she’s somehow tied into Stoll’s misdealings, I’ll count it as the low point of my career if she gets hit by a car.

Twinky streaks by the narrow lane that separates our building from the town hall. Just then, familiar laughter echoes off the stone.

Five men who I know all too well walk toward me, talking among themselves. Then our eyes meet. Like following a laser pointer, their gazes land on Twinky. It’s like a slow-motion action shot as they make the connection as to why I’m racing down the sidewalk behind a cat.

Bo looks dubious. Nash’s focused expression suggests he does a numerical calculation for how much this could cost me as a potential mayoral candidate. I can’t read Buck from under the beard. Taylor is most definitely amused. Cassian’s brow lifts with knowing.

Like the best friends slash brotherly football team they are, they gentle “tackle” Twinky—don’t worry, not a piece of fur on her head was hurt—though Buck does get scratched by a shrub and not the cat.

Taylor passes her to me. “Office. Talk. Now.”

I’m used to giving orders, but I guess I owe the guys an explanation.

As we pass Brick Bookstore, Aggie gives me a short but meaningful nod of comradery.

The guys gather in my small office and I secure the door behind us. Dropping into my chair, I’m now on the other side of the proverbial interrogation table.

“Did we just catch you red-handed with Stoll’s cat?” Taylor asks, incredulous.

“Red-pawed?” Bo suggests.

They don’t laugh.

“So Officer Henley wasn’t wrong? You did take the cat.” Buck says.

“You’re going to need a lawyer,” Nash says.

“I have several.” Funded by the US government or slippery insiders who know their way around online documentation. But I keep that to myself.

“Did you or didn’t you steal Mayor Stoll’s cat?” Cassian asks.

“I rescued her.”

“Dare we know why?” Bo paces in front of the window with his hands hammocked behind his head.

“Stoll went on a spur-of-the-moment business trip and returned with the animal. Seemed suspicious,” I say simply.

Buck narrows his eyes as if trying to read between the lines.

I part my hands and shrug. “Little known fact, I’m a cat guy.”

“A cat guy?” Taylor asks.

I lift and lower my shoulder like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, I prefer cats to dogs.”

“Man’s best friend is not a cat,” Buck says matter of fact.

“I’m independent and travel a lot. Trust me, it makes sense.”

“There’s more,” Nash says astutely.

Cassian shoots me a look that suggests if he were to hold a pair of scales, they’d weigh more heavily toward me telling them the whole story if I don’t want to face the wrath of my best friends.

It’s now or never. I need their help. I owe them the truth. My job as an agent isn’t top secret, but I’ve kept it from everyone in my life for their safety and to compartmentalize things. Makes it easier for me. But this situation grows increasingly difficult.

I start by saying, “I have every intention of becoming mayor and turning things around in this town.”

“Not with an arrest record,” Nash cuts in.

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