Courting Alley Cat (10 page)

              Alley was deeply lost in her story when someone knocked on the back door. Justin! She glanced at the clock. He’d only left an hour or so ago. Had he forgotten something? She rushed to the door, put her hand on the doorknob. He always insisted she lock the door behind him. She knew he stood and listened for the click because the one time she forgot, he had opened the door and locked it himself. She had merely waved at him from her desk.

              He’d winked and closed the now locked door behind him.

              The little nerves on the back of neck tingled. Had this knock sounded different?

              She released the door knob and peaked behind the curtain instead.

              “Hi,” a man said.

              She dropped the curtain and jumped backwards.

              “Can I come in?” he asked.

              “Who are you?”

              She racked her brain. Was this a neighbor she had met? She shook her head. The only neighbor she had met was Justin and his family.

              “I live just down the street. I’ve lost my puppy. I thought maybe you’d seen him.”

              Lost puppy.

              The memory of a video she had seen in class flashed through her mind. A typical ruse to lure children away from their parents.
But I’m not a child.

              Still.

              “The Bark and Purr Veterinary Clinic is next door. You should check there,” she said, without opening the curtain again.

              “I just came from there. They said I should check with the neighbors.”

              She took a deep breath. “I haven’t seen a puppy.
              “Can I just look around the backyard?”
              “Sure,” she said.
Just go away.

             
She quietly clicked the deadbolt in place. As she did so, the man turned the doorknob. She gasped.

              She had been right! She felt in her pocket for her cellphone. Then remembered she’d left it lying on her desk. She turned and dashed to her desk, picked up her phone, and clicked on Justin’s phone number.

              “Hello,”
              “Justin,” she whispered. “There’s a man here at my back door. He says he’s looking for a puppy.”

              “Don’t let him in.”

              “I didn’t, but he tried the door.”
              “Go the bathroom and lock the door. Stay on the phone.”

              Alley hesitated as she saw Justin appear at his back door. “Do you see him?”

              “There’s no one there.”

              “He was just here.”

              “I’ll check in the backyard.”

              “Let me call the police.”
              “I’ll just look. Do not open the door.”

              He clicked off the phone. It was too risky for Justin to be out there with that man. She went to the front of the house and saw what could be the man walking down the street. She had only gotten a brief look at his face, but it had been up close and personal. He’d smiled at her. Smiled at her with tobacco stained teeth amid a scraggly beard. But she certainly couldn’t identify him from the back.

              Justin came to the back door and called her on the phone. “He’s gone,” Justin said.

              “I think I just saw him go up the road.”

              “So, you have windows in the bathroom, now?”
              “I couldn’t leave you out there alone.”

              “Ok, let me in.”

              This time, when she peaked out the back door, Justin was there – alone.

              They went into the living room and she relayed the story to him.

              “You did the right thing,” he said. “Never, ever open the door to a stranger.”             

              “You have to give me some credit,” she said, “I’m the one who grew up in Dallas.”

              “Yeah, but in a small town, things can seem deceptively safe.”

              “I know. I almost thought I should open the door.”

              “No. Never.”

              “What should we do?” she asked.

              “Nothing now. It was hopefully a random thing. Let me run home and finish up a couple of things. I’ll be back to make sure he doesn’t return.”

              Justin ended up staying until late in the evening. They had fallen asleep curled together on the sofa watching late-night TV. She’d walked him to the door just after midnight and had locked up behind him. He hadn’t wanted to leave, she could tell. His worry compounded her own fear. She took Charlie and locked herself in Granny’s bedroom for the night.

              Alley found herself throwing out one drawing after another. Her morning had been completely unproductive. Stretching her tired, cramped muscles, she knew she needed to take a break. Deciding to cook spaghetti for lunch, she turned on the kitchen television and got out the ingredients and turned the heat on under a boiler of water.

              Glancing at the television screen, the daily local news immediately caught her attention. There, in a stark black and white photograph was the man who had confronted her yesterday at her back door. She dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and stood entranced by the report. Apparently the man had been apprehended in the kidnaping and possible murder of the girl they were looking for.

              Alley felt lightheaded and grasped the kitchen counter to keep from spinning to the floor.               Justin had been right. She had been in danger.              

              She no longer felt safe. She had to get out of here.

              Her mind spinning, she ran to the bedroom and, taking out her suitcase, began to throw clothes in its general direction. When she turned to find Charlie sitting in the middle of her suitcase staring at her with a quizzical expression, she realized what she was doing and stopped to sit on the edge of the bed, a pair of jeans held tightly in her hands.             

              Charlie meowed and went to sit in her lap.

              She hugged him to her and buried her face in his fur.

              “What am I doing, Charlie? I can’t just leave. He’s been arrested. He won’t bother us again.”

              Why had he bothered her in the first place?

              She didn’t understand. Had she been about to be a random victim? Had the other girl been a random victim?

              At that moment, the doorbell rang. She jumped and dashed to peek out the front door. No sign of anyone - no car, nothing. Perplexed, she went to the back door to find Justin standing there, watching her through the window.

              “You rang the doorbell,” she said, opening the door.              

              “Sorry,” he said, stepping inside. “Did you see the news? Oh, nevermind, you don’t watch the news.”

              “Actually, I did,” she said, indicating the television that was currently on the local channel.

              “Oh,” he said. “So, you saw it?”

              “Yes. Justin, why did he do it? And why did he come here?”

              “I don’t know,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing the top of her head.

              “It just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

              “It doesn’t make any sense to anyone.”

              “You think it was random?” She asked, pulling away to stand in front of the kitchen window.

              “I don’t know. It’s possible.”

              “How could I possibly be connected?”

              Justin stilled. Didn’t answer. Alley turned and looked back at him. “What?”             

              “It may not have been random?”             

              “He doesn’t know anything about you.” His eyes met hers. “Except that he knows about us.”

              “Why would he care?

              “Because I’m one of the ones who can help put him away.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “I’m one of the ones helping to find the girl.”

              “I think there’s something you haven’t told me.”

              “Yes, and now I especially can’t tell you. Not after what happened.”

              “You have to tell me.

              “I can’t Alley. I can’t put you in danger.”

              “But–“

              ”No, Alley,” he said, lifting her chin with his fingertip. “I love you too much.”

              She gasped.

              He loved her? What did he mean by that? Steven sometimes told her he loved her. Was this the same kind of thing? Did Justin mean that he loved her? Or that he LOVED her?

              “You love me?” she couldn’t help but to ask.

              “Yes,” he said, running his hand through her hair. “I love you.”

              She must have looked at him strangely, because he smiled and nodded. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

              “I don’t know,” she answered. “It just wasn’t something I expected you to say.”

              “No,” he said. “I don’t suppose it was.”

              “Well…” She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “What were we talking about?”

              “It doesn’t matter now. Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

              “No.”

              “Alley,” Justin said, pulling her to him and holding her tightly. “Promise me something.”

              “Ok.”

              “Promise me you’ll be careful. I know the guy’s in jail right now, but I don’t know for how long. And if he thinks he can hurt me by hurting you - which he could, he might try something again. I almost think maybe you should go back to Dallas.”

              “So now you’re trying to get of me?”

              “Are you kidding? Not at all. I’m just afraid for you.”

              “I’m a little afraid, too. But I told Granny I’d stay here and watch the house and so I’m going to do just that. When she gets back, I’ll go to Dallas. But not before.”

              “I had a feeling you’d say that. And I have to admit, I didn’t really want you to go.”

              “Is that so?”

              “So, tell me, how long do you think I can keep you here?”

              “I have to go back after Granny returns.”

              “Why?”

              “I do have a job, you know.” She pulled back from him. Leaned against the counter.

              “I thought writing the book was your job.”

              “It isn’t a job exactly. It’s sort of part time.”

              “I see.”

              “Really, it doesn’t pay much.”

              “What is your other job?”

              “I teach college classes.”

              “College? And you didn’t tell me that?”

              “Well, no, it didn’t come up. And it didn’t seem all that important.”

              “Alley. Teaching college classes seems pretty important to me.”

              “It’s only part time.”

              “Oh, so it’s part time. Do you enjoy it even though it doesn’t pay much?”

              “I love it.”

              “But it’s a real job.”

              “Of course.”

              “How is that different from writing your book which doesn’t pay much?”

              “Well, it...”

              “So, you’re saying if a job is fun, it isn’t a real job?”

              “I give up. You’re right. It’s a real job.”

              “The luckiest people in the world enjoy their work. It’s the goofiest reason I’ve ever heard to not call something a real job.”

              “Let me rephrase it. The writing isn’t steady income. The teaching is.”

              “Well, that at least, makes sense.”

              She shook her head. He could be exasperating. “Nonetheless, I have to be back for it.”

              “What if you focused on your books instead of your teaching?”

              “Why would I do that?”

              “The teaching has a limit, but the writing is limitless.”

              “I know, but in the meantime, I have to pay the rent.”

              “There has to be a way.”

              “There is. I’m doing it. Writing all summer and doing both, though less writing, during the year.”

              “Do you think you’ll want to write full time some day?”

              “Of course. It’s the ultimate goal.”

              “Wouldn’t you get lonely?”

              She considered that for a moment. Mostly because she had wrestled with that question herself so very stridently. And she had yet to come up with an answer. She was an extrovert and she did get energy from interacting with other people. However, writing was a solitary activity. She knew that there were extroverted writers out there. How did they reconcile that dilemma?

                  She found it especially interesting that Justin posed the very question to her that gave her so much internal angst.

              “I don’t know,” she said finally, opting out for honesty. “I’ve struggled with that question myself.”

              “I can see where it would be a dilemma. Do you think that if maybe you were married, it wouldn’t be so much of a problem?”

              “I just don’t know.”

              “So, you may end up keeping two types of jobs.”

              “It’s possible. Though the writing is the work that I truly enjoy the most. Maybe I could teach writing workshops at conferences and do book signings to get the people fix.”

              He smiled.

              “What’s funny?”

                “Nothing. I just know I can go for days without seeing anyone and I’m ok with that.”

              “I guess that’s why you’re the veterinarian.”

              “Yes, I guess it is.”

              “But you have to work just as much with people as with animals if you think about it. You have to educate, encourage, provide crisis interventions, and who knows what all else.”

              “You’re right,” he said. “It comes easier to me than I would have expected. I think, because the welfare of the animals is at stake.”

              “You don’t seem uncomfortable with people.”

              “Oh, I’m not. I’m fine with people. I just don’t have to be around them all the time.”

              “If only I were more like you,” she said, with a sigh.

              He laughed. “The fact that you aren’t, is a great deal of your charm.”

              “Oh, so now I’m charming?”

              “You’ve always been charming.”

              “I thought you found my extroversion irritating.”

              “No,” he said, running his hand through his hair with a frown playing about his mouth. “More like exasperating.”

              “I’m not sure which is worse - irritating or exasperating.”

              “Irritating is worse.”

              “How do you figure?”

              “A mosquito is irritating. You don’t irritate me. Irritating means it needs to go away. Exasperating just means I don’t know what to do about it.”

              “You don’t know what to do about me.” She felt a smile playing about her lips.

              “No, I guess I really don’t.”

              “But you want to know.”

              He nodded. “Of course,” he took her hand and rubbed the tip of his finger along her palm.

              She licked her bottom lip as a sexy little tingle played about her spine.

              “I have a feeling, however,” he continued. “that I will never really quite have a handle on understanding you.”

              “Maybe that’s another part of my charm,” she teased as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, lightly at first, then slowly kissed a path up to her wrist.

              When his lips paused there on the pulse of her wrist, she held her breath and just waited - allowing the tingly emotions to envelope her.

              “You could be right,” he said.

              “Right about what?”

              He laughed, a low, deep manly laugh. “I think you have me under your spell.”

              “Don’t be silly. I don’t have any spells,” she said, with her eyes closed. “Maybe it’s you who has me under your spell,” she said, her voice a little husky.                           

              “Is that so?” he whispered. “What do you suggest I do with all this power?”

              “Um,” she swallowed. “That depends on what you have in mind.”

              “Oh, I have several things in mind.”

              “Like what?”

              “Like this,” he said, taking her thumb into his mouth and sucking gently, his tongue lightly caressing her skin. Then he released her fingers and waited until she opened her eyes.

              “What do you think about that?” he asked.

              “I think it’s an interesting idea,” she said, her eyes meeting his.

              He smiled wickedly. “Just interesting?”