A Little Christmas Jingle

by Michele Dunaway

  “Yes. My partner says he’ll stay tomorrow night. We have couches in our offices for just such purposes and with Jingle’s condition, in case anything happens, I don’t want to leave him alone too long. There is a staff member here, even on Sundays.”

  “You run a first-rate operation. You are impressive, Kat. I’ve never met someone as dedicated as you.”

  He smiled, and his compliment warmed her heart. He reached out and touched her arm, and the simple movement stirring a dormant fire, a fire she needed to squelch lest she get burned. “Now that I am a partner, we shouldn’t let things get muddled, especially as you are investigating me.”

  “I responded to the complaint and dismissed it. It’s clear there’s no abuse.”

  “Still, I’m not sure if it’s best that we blur professional lines.”

  He leaned against a table, assessed her with those all-seeing eyes. “Do you always do what’s best?”

  “Clearly not as I’m running a shelter with no permits.” She sighed and scratched the head of a two-year-old tabby.

  Angela poked her head around the corner. “There you are.”

  Kat jerked her finger out of the cage and put a startled hand on her chest. “You’re still here?”

  “I wanted to make sure Pebbles was ready for her cremation. And I wrote the sympathy card and put it in the mail.”

  The clinic had a policy of sending cards. It was the least they could do. “That’s sweet of you for taking on that job for me.”

  “No problem. You can reward me with a big Christmas bonus. Did she eat?” This question was directed at Jack.

  “Not that I know of.”

  Angela gave Kat a pointed look. “Lunch was hours ago.” As proof, Kat’s stomach rumbled. “See?”

  Caught, Kat gave a weak chuckle. However, it cut the tension and lightened her mood. “I am hungry.”

  “You need to eat. Let me take you somewhere,” Jack inserted.

  Angela beamed. “Great idea. I’ll hold down the fort until you get back. You need to get out of here for a while. Besides, you have remote access.”

  “I can monitor Jingle’s machines and watch him via my phone,” Kat explained. “I do need to stop by my house and feed my cats.”

  “So go,” Angela urged. She made a shooing motion and shot Kat a pointed look. “Go hug your kitties so you’ll feel better. I’ll be here.”

  She hesitated. “If you’re sure …”

  Angela practically pushed Kat out the door. “Go. I got this. And remember what I told you earlier.”

  “What did she tell you earlier?” Jack asked.

  “Nothing important,” Kat fibbed, allowing Jack to lead her toward an exit. She followed behind, noting his broad backside and the way his blond hair curled at the nape. She had an urge to touch those strands.

  He assisted her into the SUV, her hand warming under his touch as he propelled her upward. He climbed into the driver’s seat and leaned over to touch the clasp. “Buckled up?”

  She nodded, wanting to trust him. But trust had failed her before. “Yes.”

  “Then let’s do this.”

  Chapter Five

  Ten minutes later Jack easily found Kat’s apartment, for when she’d said the one with the Christmas lights, she hadn’t been joking. The brick two-family building across from the park was completely covered. Blinking multicolored strands hung from the flat roofline and lined each window and door. She had a set of lighted white reindeer and one of those inflatable Santa Claus figures in the postage-stamp-size front yard.

  While the neighboring buildings on each side also sported strands of lights, Kat’s outshone both.

  He parked in the alley, behind her two-car garage, and followed her through the well-lit yard to the back door. Christmas lights adorned the backyard trees as well as the garage.

  “You in a contest?” he asked.

  She laughed, put the key in the back-door lock. “No, but I just love the lights and decorations; it makes even a bad day like today a little brighter this time of year. I can hang more decorations here than at the clinic, so I admittedly go a bit overboard. I love that people slow down when they drive by.”

  She tugged the door open and turned off the first alarm as they stepped onto a small landing. Stairs led downstairs to the basement and also upward. “I’m on the second floor.”

  They passed the door to the first-floor apartment, and Jack tried not to stare too hard at her backside. “So do your tenants like all the lights?”

  “Well, they don’t mind, and their kids always tell me how much they love them. You?”

  “I don’t mind looking at Christmas lights,” Jack replied as they climbed the stairs. She had a shapely backside—temptation was mere inches away. All he had to do was reach up. … Instead he shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets as they reached the second-floor landing.

  He noted with a cop’s satisfaction that she had a second alarm that went off when they stepped into her kitchen. While she made quick work of the code, he assessed the area, committing to memory the Santa aprons hanging on pegs in her kitchen. “This way.”

  In her living room, an ornament-covered live tree stopped inches short of the nine-foot ceiling. Upon their approach, a Siamese cat rose to its feet, arched its back and blinked. Then it stretched and sat on the edge of the couch. “That’s Ty. He’s a sweetheart. Pippa’s around here somewhere, probably under the tree if she’s not up in it. Make yourself at home. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Jack approached Ty, who clearly waited for a head scratch. Jack’s phone buzzed; he grimaced at the caller ID. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Jack. Saw you on the news a few minutes ago. How’s that poor puppy?”

  “Doing much better.”

  “That’s good. Good. Did you get my e-mail?”

  He had, and promptly ignored it.

  “We need to know if you’re bringing a date to your sister’s wedding,” his mother insisted. “If not, I have a solution.”

  Jack’s fingers tightened on his cell. “I’m in the middle of something. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Will you actually call me?”

  She knew him well. He didn’t/couldn’t forget—but he’d just get busy and hours would pass. “I’ll call the moment you get home from church. Still around noon?”

  “Yes. Cecily and Brian are coming over at four and staying through dinner. We have a few more wedding details to finalize. You could stop by, you know. She’d love to see you. Why don’t you come? We’ve missed you lately. You could watch football with your father. The Rams are playing the Saints. Starts at three.”

  While he loved his stepsister, who’d been four when she’d become part of his family, the last thing he wanted was to listen to his mother and Cecily ramble on about the nuptials occurring in three weeks. He’d already been fitted for a tux. Now they were hounding him for his plus one.

  “I’m working tomorrow,” he told his mother, which wasn’t exactly a lie. He was always working.

  “If you could try …”

  “I might be able make it around six,” he conceded.

  “We’ll be eating by then and trimming the tree afterwards.”

  Which meant he’d be conned into helping his mother turn her house into an overboard winter wonderland. “I’ll see what I can do. But I will call you no matter what.”

  “You better. We’re finishing the seating chart tomorrow, and I must have your answer by four thirty or I’m putting you next to Jane Moorhead. You remember Jane, right? She’s flying in from Stanford where she’s studying to be a lawyer. Pretty thing. Really blossomed from that girl you threw mud at in third grade. Could be the one for you. God knows Julie wasn’t.”

  Jack grew impatient. “Mom, you loved Julie up until she dumped me, and I really do have to go,” he said, for glittery round red ornaments were cascading from the Christmas tree and thudding onto the floor. He’d found Pippa, the longhaired calico kitten currently shaking the branches and testing the th
eory of gravity. “Love you!” he told his mom as he ended the call. He shoved his cell phone in his pocket and made a fast grab for the next ornament.

  “They’re not glass,” Kat said behind him.

  “Didn’t think so but …” He tossed her the satin ornament, and she caught it one-handed and set it in a bowl on the dining room table.

  “It’s a game. Pippa knocks everything off the low branches, so cloth ornaments only for the first four feet. The breakable things are up at the top where she can’t get them. She also tries to pull the tinsel off, but she won’t eat it, so it’s safe. It just drapes badly at the floor.”

  He lifted a fallen strand of silver and looped it back over a low branch. “I can see that. You ready?”

  Pippa launched a few more balls, before flying out of the tree to scramble after one. Her tiny paws flew out from under her, and she went sliding sideways on the hardwood before she tackled her prey. Then she jumped a foot skyward.

  Jack and Kat looked at each other and laughed. “I’m ready. Food and water are filled.” She gave Ty a scratch on the head. “You’ll see me in the morning, won’t you sweetie?” Ty flicked his tail and headed for the kitchen. He crunched on kibble as Kat locked up.

  “Pizza okay?” Jack asked. “I was thinking Louie’s, as it’s close to the clinic.”

  “Love that place. Another good choice. You know your restaurants.”

  “I like good food,” Jack said.

  He patted his stomach and her mouth watered. No extra pounds there. When she’d been in his arms, she’d touched solid muscle, with not an ounce of flab. Against his chest during their hugs, she’d heard the powerful thump thump beneath his shirt. Her hands itched to touch his chest, feel the texture of his smooth skin. He was heavenly. Divine. Her body remained on high alert as they walked downstairs.

  He assisted her both into and out of the SUV, his touch lingering as they reached Louie’s. The place wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but the plate glass window revealed a line of people waiting for carryout orders. They sat toward the back at the last empty table, and their waitress came for their drink order.

  “After today, a glass of wine is in order,” Kat said, ordering a Riesling. Jack opted for a Budweiser. The waitress wrote it down on her green pad and disappeared, but not before giving Jack an odd look.

  “Do you think she recognizes you?”

  “My family is pretty big. We know everyone it seems. It’s like a very small world. You?”

  “Only child,” Kat admitted. “My parents were always busy with their medical professions, and I actually had a nanny. My dad traveled a lot and my mother worked long hours.”

  He arched a sexy blond brow. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Wow. My mother was always home and in everyone’s business. Still is.” He tapped his fingers on the table, then stilled the nervous habit. The waitress returned with their drinks, and he wrapped his fingers around the cold bottle and lifted it.

  “Cheers,” he said.

  Kat’s forehead creased quizzically. “To what? It’s not been that good of a day. Rather lousy actually.”

  “Then how about we toast to Jingle, who’s made it this far. That’s reason to cheer.”

  “Fair enough.” She perked up and clinked her wineglass to his bottle. Each took a sip.

  “Speaking of Jingle, I watched the new story. Anthony did a nice job. You were portrayed in a positive light, so that should help with your legal troubles.”

  Kat unrolled her flatware. “I saw it, and I hope so. My lawyer called. She wasn’t too pleased with the interview.”

  “Lawyers are a pain. Necessary evil.”

  “So you said you’re brother is a lawyer.”

  “Yeah, when we were little I said I’d catch them and he’d put them away. One of the few times we agreed. But he went into corporate litigation. Pays better.”

  Kat sensed there was more, but didn’t want to press. “What made you want to be a police officer?”

  “I liked all those Encyclopedia Brown and Hardy Boys books. Then I moved to mysteries as I got older, working my way through Agatha Christie, all the Sherlock Holmes. He observed everything, and I have a memory that allowed me to do that too. I like problem solving. I also liked Dick Francis.”

  “I’ve read a few of his. He was a jockey. Did race horse mysteries.”

  “Yeah. Once I chose the police force, I thought it’d be cool to be a member of St. Louis’s mounted police. Instead, I realized that I could do more good by helping animals rather than riding them. I get to do more detective work this way. And I can’t stand to see innocent creatures suffer.”

  “Sounds noble.”

  He shrugged, clearly reluctant to accept praise. “No more than saving animals like you do.”

  The young waitress returned and held out a copy of the calendar. “Are you Jack Donovan?”

  He gave her the media smile. “I am.”

  “Could you autograph this? We’re going to be hanging it in back come January. How cool that you eat here. Well, you will once I get your order.” Unlike Kat’s laugh, the waitress’s light giggle got on Jack’s nerves.

  He signed the calendar with a flourish, and then they ordered a St. Louis–style, thin-crust green pepper and onion pizza. Kat added an Italian salad for a starter.

  “Does that happen often?” Kat asked after the waitress departed. Now other patrons were looking at them and pointing and whispering.

  “More and more,” he admitted. “It’s a bit unnerving.”

  Kat heard snatches of “vet” and “Jingle.” Surprise had her eyes widening. “They’re talking about me.”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s nothing. Ignore it. You have to or it’ll drive you crazy.”

  She tried, but after a few minutes said, “You’re right. It’s annoying. How do you put up with it?”

  “It’s part of the job.”

  Kat sighed. Then her ears perked up. “Now they’re talking about my legal issues.”

  “Ignore them.”

  She hated being the subject of gossip. “I can’t. I’m so worried. It should have been a simple permit fix. It’s blown up into this huge issue. Do you know how much money I invested? My parents told me it was a waste. But I don’t like animals to suffer any more than you do. All I wanted to do was help.”

  “I’m truly sorry.” He sipped his beer, mouth wrapping around the opening. “It has to be hard.”

  He swallowed, the mesmerizing sight momentarily stripping her of her focus. A routine act shouldn’t be so darn sexy. What had she been about to say? Oh yeah. She blinked. “It hasn’t been an easy process.”

  He reached for her hand, covered it with his. “What can I do?”

  “I was hoping, wondering—” She stopped. She couldn’t do this. She pulled her hand away, breaking the magnetic connection, and he let her fingers go.

  “I want to help,” he prodded.

  Kat clenched her hands in her lap, twisted them together. “I can’t. Even though I got put on the spot, I’m now as bad as all those other women who wanted something from you, or I’ll sound like an autograph-seeking fangirl like our waitress.”

  “Try me.”

  She released her hands and sipped her wine for courage. “You know I’ve a huge adoption event coming up. We hope to clear out the shelter, which we need to do just in case things don’t go my way in court …”

  Her voice trailed off and she took a deep, fortifying breath. “I’d like you to be our celebrity guest. You’d talk to people, help them choose an animal, sign some autographs … maybe even wear a Santa hat.”

  He didn’t respond, and she placed both hands flat on the table and sighed. “I know. Poor joke. Plus, it’s everything you hate, but you might be my last hope. I honestly don’t know what else to do. I was impulsive and once again it bit me.”

  The waiter set her salad down, then topped off their water glasses. Jack lifted his beer to his lips, let a good long sip pass. Then
he set the brew down and brushed some lint off the red and white plastic tablecloth. “I told you how I feel about animals being Christmas presents; they are a huge responsibility. Jingle was a present.”

  She bristled. “I screen every adopter personally. I’m like an animal-human love connection. I also have a return policy. If they don’t want the animal, no matter when, they are to bring it back to me.”

  “Even if you don’t have a shelter?”

  She jutted her chin forward. “I will work something out.”

  He toyed with the frosted red plastic water cup, wiping away a bead of condensation. “How many come back?”

  “We’ve had a few,” she admitted, “but not as many as you’d expect. Less than two percent. And I’ve been able to find new homes for each one. All of my dog owners can partake in free obedience classes held here at my clinic. While you may not like Christmas, it’s a great time to get a pet because people are home. Kids are off school for at least a week, so there are people around during the day to assimilate the animal. I also hold kiddie classes to teach children proper pet care. Good animal care comes from education. Kids need to learn how to show appropriate affection and how to take care of their pets. I provide that.”

  His fingers moved up and down the bottle in an absent caress. If those fingers were on her … Her mouth dried and she took a long, nourishing sip of cold wine. “Seems like you’ve thought of everything.”

  She nodded, and her loose brown hair swished around her neck and brushed the tops of her shoulders. “I’ve made my clinic full service. I do not want what happened to Jingle happening to any of my animals.”

  He liked how she said “my animals.” Saving pets was a calling, not just a mission, not just a job. On that point, at least, they were kindred spirits. “What if we did it at a later time?” he asked.

  She finished her Riesling. “You’re missing my point. I know you hate Christmas adoptions, but I am out of time. My hearing is right before the holiday. I have mere weeks to find homes for twenty dogs and fourteen cats. I’ll do anything to save them. Anything.”

  That caught his interest. “Anything?”