Cattitude Read Free

features. She touched his cheek. Her heart raced.
His face was warm! Was he alive?
    Then she looked into his unseeing eyes and
knew her hopes were false.
    “No answer? Doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t
believe you anyway. As much as I value your special talents, I’m
afraid I’ll have to manage without them. If I’m in jail, they won’t
do me much good, will they?”
    Her hand curved over Fletcher’s cheek. Fletch, how will I live without you?
    In her peripheral, the black shoes moved
another step closer.
    “I’m not a bad man.” Deavers gestured toward
Fletcher. “He’s scum. He deserved to be eliminated.”
    Anger roared through her mind. Fletcher was
the only person who’d ever loved her, and this animal had taken him
from her. And she was next. Looking up, she took her hand from
Fletcher’s cheek and reached sideways for the bag of potatoes.
    He aimed the gun at her head. “You’re too
pretty to die this way. I’m sorry, but I have to do this for the
sake of my children. I can’t let them be humiliated. Why don’t you
close your eyes? I’ll feel better if—”
    She slammed the potatoes in an arc, knocking
the gun from his hand and hitting his left knee. He staggered and
grabbed his knee, muffling a moan. Still holding the bag of
potatoes, she stood in one fluid movement and smashed the bag onto
the side of his head. Then she turned and ran.

CHAPTER 2

    “What took you? I could’ve been killed.” Rose
scurried out of her Lincoln Town Car onto the sparse grass verge,
looking fearfully at the cars speeding along the expressway, her
nose wrinkling as if the smell of exhaust offended her
sensibilities.
    Max tightened his mouth and reached inside
the car for the switch to release the hood. His mother was always
afraid of something. To her, every cloud had a black lining.
    “We came as soon as you called,” Ted said,
behind Max.
    “Can you believe it?” Her voice squeaked with
indignation. “A man stopped. He knocked on the window,
trying to get me to open it, saying he wanted to help.”
    “You should’ve cracked the window open.” Ted
lifted the hood. “He could’ve been the man of your dreams.”
    “He could have been a rapist,” she shot back.
“You’re being foolish. There is no such thing as a dream man.”
    Ted bent to examine the engine. “Not even
Dad?” he asked, his voice muffled.
    Max stuffed his hands into his jean pockets,
forcing himself to watch Ted handle this instead of shoving him
aside and taking over. A semi raced along the slow lane behind him,
its draft tickling his neck.
    “Your dad left,” Rose said.
    Max shifted his gaze from Ted to her. “Dad
died,” he snapped.
    She shot him an accusing look, as though it
were his fault.
    The old heaviness settled in his chest.
Rose’s lips curved down, her face unsatisfied, her eyes squinting
against the sun. Her navy pants and lighter blue jacket covered
those fifteen extra pounds she was always talking about losing. Her
hair looked neat, her only wrinkles showing around her eyes and
mouth.
    He supposed a man her own age might find her
attractive. Yet she’d never dated since the day that started with
sunshine until late afternoon when the storms swooped in and—
    “He was killed.” Bitterness edged the flat
words. “It’s the same result. He’s not here, is he? This is a silly
conversation. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
    “Found it!” Ted said. “A loose spark plug
wire.”
    “Are you sure?” Rose tapped her fingers on
her upper lip. “Maybe you should let Max look at it.”
    About to bend under the hood for a look, Max
pulled back. “I’ll get the pliers.”
    Ted glanced up, his eyebrows lifted. Max read
the question in his eyes. He nodded, giving Ted the message that he
was letting him take care of this. That he trusted him.
    He turned away. In a couple weeks, Ted would
be handling everything. He just didn’t know it yet.
    As Max reached in the back of the Jeep, a tug
on his sleeve stopped