Just as I'd suspected, she'd had no idea, which meant that the guy was as shady as I'd feared.
"No joke," I told her. "Aunt Celia told us all about it on the morning she left. You weren't around yet, but if you give her a call, she'll tell you the whole story." I turned and gave the jerkwad a long, disgusted look. "Shealsosaid the owner of the cat was an absolute jackass."
Thisgot a reaction. His jaw clenched as he said, "That's my grandpa you're talking about."
Oh sure, blame it on your grandpa. What next? Blame it on your dog?
I gave a smirk of my own. "Oh, so you're denying the cat's yours?"
"It doesn't matterwhoit belongs to," he said. "You can't be calling him names."
The guy was too slippery by half.With a jerk of my chin, I demanded, "Or what?"
Gwen moved forward and gave me a pleading look. "Youdorealize, you're being awfully rude."
"Me?"Hell, yeah. I was being rude. That was the whole point."Do you know what the guy told Aunt Celia when she complained? Hetoldher to pound sand."
"So what if he did?" Gwen said. "That isn'tDrake'sfault."
I flicked my head to the guy in question. "You meanhim?"
I didn't get it.Gwen was normally so smart.Didn't she see what he was doing?
Apparently not, because instead of throwing the bum out on his ass, she stared at me likeIwas the problem. "That's exactly who I mean," she said. "And just so you know, he's the one who helped me after the stroller broke. He carried the kittens all the way back here." Her voice rose. "Withoutbeing asked."
So he'd volunteered?
Well, that was convenient.
I was familiar with the story. Sometime last week, a wheel had popped off the pet-stroller, and a guy in the neighborhood had come out to help her.
But so what?For allIknew, he'd sabotaged the stroller himself for nefarious reasons of his own. "Oh, my God," I groaned. "Don't tell you me you left the kittens alone with him."
The guy spoke up. "Why? What do you think I'd do?"
The possibilities were endless. "Whatwouldn'tyou do?" I scoffed. "For all I know, you'd feed them to your dog." I didn't quite mean it, but I was trying to make a point, which of course, the guy totally missed.
His jaw clenched. "Don't worry. He prefers redheads."
Oh, like me, huh?Through gritted teeth, I said, "What?"
His tone grew sarcastic. "Yeah, he had one for dinner last night."
I was still holding the kittens. "Are you threatening me?"
"No, I'm making a joke," he claimed. "Cash wouldn't harm anyone, including you."
But the dog's sudden bark made me wonder, and I gave the deceptively cute creature a wary look. "And why is he barking at me?"
"It wasn't a bark," the guy said. "It was a yip."
I scowled. "But he's scaring the kittens." Mentally, I was already calculating all of their positions. There were the two in my arms, two in an undecorated Christmas tree, and another in the basket by the fireplace.
If the dog went on a rampage, I needed to be ready act.
The guy scoffed, "I'm pretty sure they'll get over it."
Talk about insensitive."How doyouknow?"
