Page 64 of Hex and the Kitty

“Multi-tasking,” he replied, stealing another brief kiss before reluctantly creating space between them. The dazed smile curving her lips sent satisfaction coursing through him.

“Ahem.”

Mrs. Henderson, the elderly gnome who managed the community center when Ophelia, Tabitha’s sister was away, stood in the doorway, her silver-streaked hair piled atop her head in an elaborate bun. Despite her diminutive stature, she radiated no-nonsense authority that had cowed generations of Whispering Pines citizens.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone indicating she wasn’t sorry at all, “but I need confirmation about the audio system requirements.”

Molly jumped slightly, her blush intensifying. Warrick kept one hand on the small of her back, a subtle declaration. The town already buzzed with speculation—might as well give them something true to discuss.

FORTY-NINE

The buzz of conversation filled Kade’s diner as Warrick slid into a booth across from David Rhodes. After finalizing the ball plans, he’d arranged to meet his assistant chief for lunch, needing to update him on security protocols.

David glanced up from the menu, his gray-blue eyes crinkling with amusement. “The town’s talking about you and Molly planning the social event of the season. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Warrick shrugged, studying the lunch specials. “The ball is departmental tradition.”

“True, butyouorganizing it?” David set his menu aside. “In three decades of friendship, I’ve watched you avoid social functions like they carried the plague. Now you’re practically leading the parade.”

“Exaggeration.”

“Nope. You’re smitten.” David leaned back, satisfaction evident in his expression. “About time too. Three centuries is a long wait for the right woman.”

Heat crept up Warrick’s neck, but he didn’t deny it. Attempting to hide his feelings from David would prove futile—the man knew him too well.

Their server appeared—Tyler, a young wolf shifter working his way through college. After taking their orders, he lingered, eyes bright with excitement.

“The department’s buzzing about the ball, Chief Shaw. Everyone’s looking forward to it.”

“Good things, I hope?”

“Definitely.” Tyler nodded enthusiastically. “Guys are saying it shows real leadership—keeping morale up despite the sabotage attempts. Not letting the troublemaker win.”

After the server departed, David leaned forward. “See? The crew respects how you’re handling this situation. Not letting Gus derail department operations or community spirit.”

“We still don’t have conclusive proof it’s him.”

“Who else would target you specifically?” David countered. “Pink glitter foam during a children’s demonstration? That was calculated humiliation, not random destruction.”

Warrick conceded the point with a nod. “Speaking of security—how’s the new protocol working? Any issues on night shift?”

“Smooth implementation. Double-checking all equipment before and after shifts.” David took a sip of his water. “Those protective wards Molly installed have been effective too. That witch of yours knows her craft.”

An unexpected surge of pride warmed Warrick’s chest at the casual acknowledgment of Molly as “his.” Two months ago, he’d have bristled at such presumption. Now, it simply resonated with truth.

Their conversation shifted to department matters—training schedules, equipment maintenance, community outreach initiatives. The rhythm of professional discussion provided welcome normalcy amid the chaos of recent weeks.

David had launched into a story about his latest fishing expedition when his phone buzzed with the station alarm tone. His expression shifted instantly from relaxed to focused.

“Structure fire reported at the Morrison property,” he read, already standing. “I’ll take Engine Two and meet alpha crew on scene.”

Warrick tossed bills on the table, following David toward the door. “I’ll head back to the station, coordinate from there.”

“Got it, Chief.” David jogged toward his vehicle. “See you at the scene!”

Unease settled in Warrick’s gut as he watched his friend drive away. The Morrison property sat on the outskirts of town, requiring navigation down Whispering Pines’ steepest hill. He tried to dismiss his concern as paranoia born from weeks of sabotage, but centuries of survival instinct overrode logic.

He pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Sheriff Reed:Possible situation developing. Engine 2 responding to Morrison property fire.Reed would understand the unspoken warning—keep alert for sabotage.

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