Page 16 of Fiona and the Fixer

Reaching down, I picked him up and scratched his head. He was a big fluff of black, brown, and white fur. His pointy ears tipped back and his golden eyes fell closed. Ifhewere actually ashe, he’d be a pleasure princess.

The spoiled fucker.

“I know how you are,” I told him as he began to purr. “Annoying Jack until he feeds you.” I headed to the kitchen at the back of the house. “You’ll get your meal but then you’re on your own while I sleep for about ten hours.”

I set him on the wood floor because while I liked him, I hated when he got on the counters.

In the middle of the island was a stack of canned food, a bag of cat litter and the name and number of a vet’s office. On a little mat by the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the backyard was his food and water dishes. Beside it was a cat tree. Every time I saw it, I shook my head. It was the biggest one I’d ever seen with five carpeted tiers for precious Pancake to lounge on. Five. Jack had even hung bird feeders right outside the window for him to watch the wildlife. I wasn’t sure if it was torture or heaven for the furry guy.

Picking a can and opening it, I went to his bowl, flipped it over and dumped the food in. Pancake nudged me out of the way, purring even louder.

I left him to his food and found the recycling can in the pantry. On the back of the door was a corkboard with carryout menus and a few coupons for the local pizza place. Also, on there, front and center, was a list. With photos. I stopped and stared at what Jack had made.

Written at the top? BAD GUYS OF COAL SPRINGS. The word FUCKERS was crossed out and in red pen, BAD GUYS was written over it. Hannah’s update, I assumed.

I pulled the thumb tack out and took the paper to study it. It appeared to have been made in a spreadsheet, as if it could be updated any time if there were more fuckers to add. Currently, there were nine names on the list.

I studied their info and photos.

Hector Lopez - 32 - Bad checks - 764 Moose Court

The photo of him had to be from his driver’s license because it was so awful. Bad checks? Did people even use checks anymore? Why did Jack even care about that? Wait, maybe he’d written one at Hannah’s new bookstore. It had only been open two months and from what I heard, it was a huge success. Separating her from it to go on vacation had been a monumental task for Jack. I didn’t want to think of how he’d finally persuaded her. Probably something to do with him and his balls.

Edith Maroon - 73 - Yelled at kids on bikes cutting across her lawn and made one cry - Across the fucking street

Okay, she was a bad guy.

Same with number three.

Jason Mooner - 24 - DUI - 12A Elk Ave.

I was going to look into him. After what happened to my mom, I’d make sure this guy was one and done on drinking and driving, or he was going to be one and done on life.

Number four was also an asshole.

Swifty Johnson - 48 - Habitual uses the handicap parking spots when he’s fully abled - 7649 W. Mountain View Rd.

The list went on of dumbasses and assholes. I had to laugh at number seven.

Andy Last name unknown - Around 10 - Always throws the newspaper into the bushes - TBD address

Jesus.Thiswas the list of bad guys? After therealbad guys he used to get paid to kill this group looked like a bunch of kindergartners. One was actually in elementary school. Why was Jack keeping a list of these losers in the first place?

The last one answered my question.

Kevin Cortez - 31 - Cheated on Hannah - Better not fucking be in Coal Springs

I heard about him. Jack had paid him a little visit over the summer with the ultimatum to either get out of town or die.

This list was Jack’s way of keeping tabs on any threat to Hannah, although I wasn’t sure how Edith Maroon would be an issue. Unless they were planning on having kids.

I froze at that thought. Was two weeks in Hawaii anattempt to get pregnant? I grinned. I’d be the perfect uncle with gifts like water pistols and BB guns.

I went into the guest bedroom and fell onto the bed like a tree cut in the forest. Before I could even sigh at the satisfaction of being horizontal, my phone rang.

Groaning, I pulled it from my pocket. It was Nitro. That perked me up more than a shot of espresso.

“What do you have for me?” I asked.

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