Chapter Three #2
Our friend network—or maybe it was more appropriate to say Peyton's friend network—was vast, but in the end, it was always just us three.
I couldn't count how many nights we had spent all at Peyton's place, watching movies, drinking wine, ordering takeout, listening to Peyton tell some over-the-top story about her latest escapade, hearing Jamie tell us about whatever girl she was casually seeing at the moment.
I crashed at Peyton's and Jamie's places more than I did my own.
We were practically sisters. And I had kept them out of the loop for a full day.
"Do you think Kingston is going to be disappointed that there's no meat in the stir-fry?
" I asked, looking at the heaping vegetables lining the copper pan.
Peyton had shown up with the makings when I had asked her to, but it had never occurred to me to ask her to pick up chicken or something since I didn't eat it. But King did.
"You're making it, aren't you?" Peyton asked.
"No, actually. The house elves are," I said, rolling my eyes as I waved a stalk of celery in the air.
"What she is saying is that Kingston is going to love it just because you made it, whether it has meat or not. Besides, he knows you don't eat meat," she rushed to add, cutting off my tirade about how I expected more from her, that she was not the teasing, pushy friend like Peyton often was.
"That's true," I mused, handing Jamie a carrot to peel as she moved in beside me, rolling her sleeves up.
"Don't strain yourself, Peyton, honey," she called over her shoulder as she made no move to help.
"I'm supervising. So, where were we? Oh, right. Savvs and Kingston are going to be trapped in this apartment until those big, bad men are tracked down and dealt with. How long until they end up all hot and sweaty?"
"How long have you been dealing with this?
" Jamie asked, nudging me with her shoulder, lips curled into a small, patient smile.
Like a mother dealing with a trying child.
In a lot of ways, she and I had always been somewhat mothering toward the difficult, rebellious Peyton, trying to make sure she ate right, got a couple hours of sleep at night, got home safe from whatever shenanigan she got herself into.
"I'm now the boring, old, settled down woman. I have nothing better to do with my life than play matchmaker to all my single acquaintances. Which reminds me, Jamie..."
"Oh, God," Jamie groaned.
"Better you than me," I mumbled.
Half an hour later, the smell of dinner was thick in the air, Jamie and Peyton were gathering their things, saying their goodbyes to Padfoot because Nixon had dropped in to tell us that Kingston was on his way home.
I won't deny that there was an odd jumping sensation in my belly at the idea of Kingston and home and me all in the same sentence.
Playing house.
That was what we would be doing for a while.
And I had a feeling it was going to be a hell of a lot harder on me than I could have anticipated.
"I will drop off Hannibal tomorrow afternoon," Peyton added, slinging her purse up higher.
Hannibal was her dog.
Hannibal the Animal.
We had been, essentially, sharing him for years. Some days, when my boss wasn't around, I would bring him in with me. Because Peyton worked evenings, I took him out when my shift ended at a reasonable time, fed him, played with him, kept him company.
"That will be good for Padfoot since I can't take him out to get his energy out. He and Hannibal can run and wrestle. Oh, but I would have to ask Kingston."
"Ask Kingston what?" King's voice asked, suddenly pushing the door open, giving Peyton and Jamie a smile. "Girls," he greeted, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to Peyton's temple.
"If Hannibal can come and hang out with Padfoot and me tomorrow. I mean... if I am still here," I added, my belly sinking at the idea that the case could be solved already.
"Of course he can. You'll be in your glory," he added, shooting me a warm smile. "Two dogs to play with."
"Great. I'll text King before I drop him off," Peyton said, clearly in a rush to leave. And we all knew why. Well, I hoped Kingston didn't, at least. Her arm linked through Jamie's pulling her with her. "You two kids have fun now," she added, sending me a wicked smile before disappearing outside.
"Did you cook me dinner?" King asked, something odd in his voice, an inflection I didn't know him well enough to place. But it almost seemed full of wonder and pleasure.
"I needed to find some way to thank you. But it totally slipped my mind to ask Peyton to bring chicken," I added as he moved past me to the kitchen, leaning down, puffs of white steam around his head as he took a deep breath.
"Why would you need chicken? Did you start eating meat?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"I, ah, no. But for you..."
"I'll eat whatever you cook for me, sweetheart," he told me with so much sincerity that there was no room to think otherwise.
Even if all I cooked was a giant block of tofu with no seasoning whatsoever.
He would eat it. And be thankful. Which was just, well, bizarre.
And lovely. "This smells great. Nope," he objected, taking the plates out of my hand as I reached for them.
"You cooked. I set the table and clean. Go sit.
We can talk about what I found out today. "
Five minutes later, we were both situated at his counter on stools. If we hadn't both instantly tilted our upper bodies away to make it possible to carry on a conversation, our shoulders would have been brushing.
"I'm guessing you didn't have any luck finding Harry."
King paused, fork half lifted off the plate, taking a breath, like he was already regretting what he was going to need to tell me.
"I hate to say this, Savvs, but I think he skipped town.
There was blood in his sink—from washing out his knocked-out tooth site, I'd say.
His drawers and closet and been rifled through in haste, one of the drawers half-fallen out of the dresser.
There's a luggage-sized empty spot on his shelf. "
"How can he just leave town? He has a house and a business..."
My heart sank at the idea that he would be so willing to just up and leave.
With a store full of living creatures that depended on someone being there to keep them alive.
He knew I had been scared away, that I wouldn't return unless I knew it was safe.
He would have left them there to starve to death.
"Honey," King's voice cut in, his hand pressing down on my thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay. It's a hiccup. We will still figure this whole thing out. I promise. You will get back to your life eventually."
"He was going to leave the animals to die," I told him, words heavy.
Kingston's head cocked to the side, a slow smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.
I could have sworn he said something under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like Big heart.
"I think we both know that Howie's belongs to Harry in paperwork only.
You are the lifeblood of that place. I won't say he doesn't give a shit about the animals, but I think he knew that you would somehow find a way to get in there and take care of them even in such a dire situation.
I'm shocked Howie didn't leave the place to you. "
I won't lie, I had been upset that he hadn't, had needed to fight through the bitterness to allow me to grieve.
Howie had died suddenly, an aneurysm that took his life in seconds.
Without a will, all his earthly belongings had gone to his next of kin.
Harry. Had he maybe foreseen his death, I liked to think that he would have gotten a will written up, would have left his pride and joy to me who he knew cared about it as much as he did, who would continue on his legacy, would make the necessary changes to keep the place updated, relevant, an essential part of the pet community in our town.
And now, it was just one bad month away from needing to shutter after all these years.
"I think he would have. If he had been thinking of things like that.
Do you think he's gone for good?" I asked, thinking of the store.
I could keep things going status quo for a while, but, eventually, I was sure someone would want to have contact with the actual owner.
And then everything would fall apart. I had a small savings, but nowhere near what I might need to try to buy the store.
And then what? Everything would be liquidated.
I would have to go and work for a chain pet store where no one even knew what the breeds of guinea pigs were or had the heart to adamantly refuse to sell goldfish bowls for moral reasons.
I could see visions of my dream to fix up my family farm crumbling before my eyes, dust all around.
"Hey," Kingston said, hand squeezing my thigh again, making me suddenly acutely aware of the weight of it, the placement of it, the borderline intimacy of it.
"This isn't the end of the world. Don't start picturing everything going down the drain just yet.
I haven't had much time to even try to track him down.
I had an emergency call right after I left his place," he explained.
"Oh. Is everything all right?"
"No," he said, gaze slanting away, darkness taking over eyes whose light I had always been so drawn to. "But they will be now that I am back on the case."
"If you need to put my case on pause for a while, I totally understand."
"I'm not putting your case on the back burner, Savvs. I'm just calling in Atlas to help out. He'll have to take a break from skirt-chasing for a couple days, but will survive."
"He'll never forgive me for taking him away from a woman," I mused, finally spearing some carrots and rice, realizing how hungry I suddenly was.
"I'm putting him on the other case. I'm staying on yours."
"Shouldn't you be on the more important, paying case?”