The catThis catis Caviar.
Caviar, he echoed, as the lightbulb finally dawned. Shed been referring not to the expensive salty stuff you put on crackers, but to a cat.
And not just any cat. The scrawny, skinny, ugly, huge-boned feline hurled toward Sophie the instant she unlocked the door. It was a motley blend of black and white and orange, all run together like spilled paint. It wound around Sophies legs like a fuzzy snake, purring louder than thunder.
Sophie crouched down to pet it, dropping everything in her wake-purse, mittens, hat, book and all. Even the first stroke made the cats purr rise another decibel level.
Your brother, as Im sure you know, was no animal lover. Caviar just showed up one day and refused to leave. Jon opened the door and the cat just shot in and hid, couldnt be found. Jon fed it, but every time he tried to put the cat outside, Caviar would find another hiding place, until Jon finally gave up. Anyway, whenever Jon was going to be gone overnight-which was a lot of nights-hed put a note on my door so Id feed Caviar. Or take him in with me.
This thrilling story almost put Cord to sleep. He had stuff to do. All of it unsettling, none of it pleasant. And yeah, he hadnt forgotten the cops wanted him to grill Sophie. In his life, hed done plenty of tough things, but so far, that never included kicking a puppy.
She seemed to think he was hesitating because he wanted the cat himself. Look, she said. Just come in for a minute. Have a cup of coffee or tea. Youll see what Caviar is like, how he is with me. And maybe I can help you with some of your brothers things. I dont know what you might need, but
Hell. Maybe hed misjudged the puppy thing. The cops had sure led him to expect shed offer some way to get into Jons stuff. And like it or not, Cord couldnt see how he could turn down the chance to find out more information.
He took a step inside her place, wary as a fox in coyote territory.
Besides the ruffles all over the curtains and pillows and all, she seemed to decorate in old furniture and messes. A hanging birdcage held a giant fern. Open magazines and books blanketed a coffee table, and the floor, and a chair or two. A window seat had been covered with somewhere around thirty pillows. The couch looked saggy, the kind of couch that swallowed up a body and never let it out again. The wallpaper was flowers, the couch cover was flowers and the jammed bookcases, spilling over with books, had vases of flowers on top of them.
Cord felt momentarily light-headed. It was close to a toxic dose of estrogen. Two martinis on an empty stomach didnt pack this much of a wallop.
Cream or sugar in your coffee? She showed up in the far doorway.
Just black. But you dont have to
She disappeared before hed finished refusing the coffee. Cord reminded himself that he was a proven tough guy, a Marine with honors, an athlete whod come damn close to an Olympic win, a man whod survived some impossible challenges in his overseas project years. But he was afraid to take off his coat.
Just black. But you dont have to
She disappeared before hed finished refusing the coffee. Cord reminded himself that he was a proven tough guy, a Marine with honors, an athlete whod come damn close to an Olympic win, a man whod survived some impossible challenges in his overseas project years. But he was afraid to take off his coat.
She was one scary cookie.
He wound his way around the clutter slowly, and then parked in the kitchen doorway. It wasnt much of a kitchen. Typical of an old house, the woodwork had been painted a hundred times. The walls were sun-yellow, plants stealing what little counter space she had, and the appliances dated back to the dark ages. A computer and books and heaps of paper covered the entire surface of the kitchen table, so it was a cinch she didnt try eating there.
I take it this is your desk.
Yeah, no choice, there is no other place. Now, I know this looks bad. Its not like I want cat hair near the food. She motioned with her head toward the cat, who was perched on the counter like a god overlooking his realm. Sophie handed Cord a mug, took one for herself. Caviar was always a little like your brother. Hes so good, if you just let him do what he wants. And its not as if theres a point in arguing with him, because hes not going to listen to you anyway.
You knew my brother pretty well.
In certain ways, yes. There was something in her voice. A message, but he couldnt read it.
She led him back to the living room, shunted papers and magazines aside to give him a seat. The cat followed them in, perched on the high edge of the sofa, clearly determined to chaperone the pair.
Although, how the word chaperone popped into Cords mind, he had no idea.
You work at home? he asked her.
Ive worked in Italy, Peacock, Georgia, the Isle of Man, Luray, Virginiaand Id probably work in a ditch, if thats where Open World sent me-thats the name of the company I work for. Right now, Im doing a long-term translating project, and I should be in Foggy Bottom for over a year. Although I hope they find more projects here after that, because Id like to settle down. The travelings fun, seeing new places, experiencing new cultures, but Im just really sick of renting. Id like to have a home base.
Shed spilled more information than hed asked-times ten. A chatterbox would hardly seem a common character trait in a woman who had a ton to hide. Cord found himself intrigued. Not that he was about to tell her about his State Department or service background, but he was definitely startled to hear more about her background. Whod guess they had any similarities? So, whats the long-term translating project youre working on?
Its really pretty fascinating. Im interviewing women who survived WWII. European women who lived in countries directly affected by Hitlers domination back then. Eventually, all the stories will come together into an intensive research project. Anyway, my ladies are a Russian, a German woman, and my first was a Danish lady. I just finished her story. It was fascinating. She was only nine when the U.S. joined the war. She remembers her dad, a sailor, fishing our American pilots out of the sea, night after night. Everyone hid the American soldiers-in fruit cellars, under beds, wherever they could. She remembers Sophie suddenly laughed. I know, I know, I can go on all night. I cant help it. I love my job. But you dont want to hear all this.
Confounding him completely was that he did. Want to hear more. Maybe her ditsiness was contagious. It sounds interesting, he said stiffly, but actually, right now-
She finished his sentence for him. You have much more serious things on your mind. Shed just perched on a chair arm and now bounced up again. I almost forgot. Ive got piles of your brothers mail for you. I dont know what the authorities did with Jons mail when they were investigating. But once they stopped comingwell, the box got overstuffed almost right away, and I had the key to Jons box, so I just started bringing it in. Id done it for him before. I knew someone would come sooner or later about the apartment, all his things. She hesitated. Youre going to need some help.
You sound sure of that.
Whatever she answered, Cord missed. He wasnt used to feeling thrown off balance, but she was sure as hell doing it to him. Nothing about her was what hed been led to expect-particularly once he saw her moving around with her jacket off.
She was still wearing clothes that would work on a nuns runway. Baggy blue sweater, hanging way past her hips. Skinny jeans. Sloppy socks. Her blond hair was clipped out of the way, wisping all over the place. Butwhen she walked, when she moved, he could see there were no extra pounds under the sweater.
She had a slim waist. Serious breasts-not huge, not blatant, but she couldnt totally conceal a downright arresting figure, even under those clothes. The legs werent long-she was shorter than a shrimp-but the proportions were right. And maybe she wasnt into face paint and all, but her skin was irresistibly soft, her mouth as kissable as any hed ever seen, her eyes expressive and gorgeous-at least until she smashed a pair of black-rimmed glasses on her nose.
She wasnt Jons type of woman, for damn sure. There was no shine, no dazzle, no trimmings on the surface. She clearly wasnt remotely embarrassed about her cluttered place, nor was she running around to fix her hair or smack on lipstick.
She just seemedreal.
Cord wished he could shake off the foggy confusion in his head. He hadnt thought of Zoe in over a year, but now he did-because she was such an elegant example of his poor judgment of women. Hed thought she was the real thing once upon a time, too.
He knew better than to trust anyone too fast-much less to trust his own instincts.
Cord? Sophie had clearly been trying to snare his attention for a good minute or two.
Im sorry. I was thinking about my brother.
Of course you were. Her eyes softened in sympathy. Ill quit babbling, just give you the box of mail. And you can tell me what you decide about Caviar, whenever you get around to it. Right now I assume youre going across the hall to Jons-
Yes.
So bang on the door if you need anything.
Sophie started humming the minute she closed the door. That had gone well, she thought.
For a few moments there, Cord had made her feel uneasy. He just seemed to, well, look at her. Really look. As if he were interested. As if he saw something beyond the black-framed glasses and sisterly smiles and ordinary person.
She retrieved her coffee and plunked herself down at the kitchen table, determined to get an hour or two of translating work done. Naturally, Caviar immediately leaped onto the tabletop and sank, purring, on top of the files she was trying to read. She stroked him absently, musing that probably her restlessness around Cord had an entirely different reason.
Cord was a hunk. Naturally, hed made her blood spin a little. He had that all-guy walk, the biceps, the crooked smile. He was way beyond adorable. He was sharp, smart, dangerous-looking.
As worrisome as that observation should have been, she yawned as she batted Caviars paw from the computer screen. Her avatar shot up with the familiar adage: Theres no such thing as being too safe.
Her sisters claimed it was her mantra, which was true. It wasnt that she didnt like men. One of the reasons the traveling in her job had started to nag was that she really wanted a chance to find a guy, settle down, have some kids. But she wanted a man likewell, like her dad. Too many men out there today were all about themselves, treating sex with the casualness of an after-dinner brandy.