Page 66 of Highball and Chain

My heart raced and my chest tightened and spots danced before my eyes. I was either having a heart attack or a panic attack, maybe both. Unable to think straight, I nodded and allowed Hildie to guide me to the couch. “Did the entire building go up? Was anyone hurt? Ms. Dixon is eighty-some-odd-years-old. Is she homeless now?”

Oh God. I’m homeless.

“No one was hurt, and Mrs. Dixon didn’t mention being displaced. It seems the fire was contained to your apartment and the store below it.” Hildie sat beside me and rubbed my back. Her gentle touch took the edge off my hysteria. I could totally see this woman raising six boys.

Enzo pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. “Ms. Dixon? This is Lorenzo Marchionni. Shanna is asking about her cat. Mr. Booger.”

“Mr. Boog-air.” Hildie corrected him.

He listened for the longest moment in the history of long freaking moments. “I see, okay. Will you do me a favor? Contact the animal shelters and speak to the neighbors.”

Leaning forward, I hugged myself. “This can’t be happening.”

Hildie pulled me closer.

“Yes, I’m her boyfriend.” He sat on the other side of me and rested his hand on my thigh.

Boyfriend?I bristled until it dawned on me that he’d likely used the word to get some street cred with Mrs. Dixon.

“Posters would be fantastic. A reward?” He met my gaze.

Shaking my head, I mouthed, “No.”

“Yes, good idea.”

I rocked myself back and forth. My poor Mr. Boogerre had either burned alive or was running the streets scared and alone.

Enzo went quiet as Mrs. Dixon’s voice filled the line. “Ten thousand.”

Is he nuts?I bolted upright. “Too much. That’s too much.”

He held up his hand. “Do you have a photo of Mr. Boog… Do you have a photo of the cat?”

I stood and paced the room. I had neighbors on either side, and the walls weren’t exactly thick. How’s it possible an empty apartment suddenly caught fire?

“Good. No, don’t put this number on the flyer. Would you mind using yours? I will compensate you… No, I won’t hear of it. It’s for your trouble.” He nodded. “Thank you. Yes, you have a good day, too.”

I rounded on him. “Are you crazy? Ten-thousand dollars will bring out every nut-ball in New Orleans.”

“You wanted to find the cat.” He stared as if he thought I might shatter at any second.

“I’m so screwed. Everything I own was in that apartment. Did she say if anything was salvageable?”

He stood and wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t worry about that now. Things can be replaced.”

“Mr. Boogerre can’t be replaced.”

He cupped my face in his hands. “No, but if he made it out, someone will find him.”

“Honey, Enzo’s right. Don’t give up hope.” Hildie hovered nearby.

“I have nothing left. No job, no house, no clothes. What am I going to do?” Between his strong arms and her kind voice, I couldn’t hold back my emotions. A dam broke inside me and all I could do was ride the raging water until things settled—if things settled.

“You’re staying with me until we get to the bottom of the fires.” He sighed. “Sweetheart, do you have insurance?”

Insurance. Oh God. Mom’s going to flip out.“My mother owns the building, but I pay rent.”

“I would assume she carries insurance.”

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