him, nor when the couple eloped. The chaos that unfolded over the next few years proved to be one of Frances’s greatest “I told you so” triumphs, and it was clear that she intended to savor that glory indefinitely.
Leigh said nothing. She was surprised that her father had bothered. Frances would never accept Mason as a member of the family. Never mind that the younger generations already did. Frances’s confidence in her own judgment was unshakable: She would be proven right in the end. Again.
Leigh suffered a moment of indecision. Should she tell her parents specifically not to mention the source of the pets to anyone else? Surely doing so would only make the arrangement sound shady. Despite her derisive comment just now, Frances didn’t appear to be overly troubled by the matter. But it would take little encouragement to make her suspect the worst.
Leigh decided to let it go. She could explain to her father later.
Her parents became absorbed in their newspapers again, and Leigh stared down at her phone. Why had Mason’s name not shown up on her caller ID? If it had, she would have taken the call last night, and she would have been able to explain to him about Maura’s request. But the messages Leigh left hadn’t been specific. She had only asked him to call her. She could leave him another voicemail. But what had he meant about it being expensive?
She studied the number on his message. Then she opened her web browser and searched on the area code.
Miami-Dade County, Florida.
What the hell was Mason doing in Miami? And why was he not using his own phone to call her? He must still have his cell with him, or he wouldn’t have gotten her message.
“Hello!” Cara’s cheerful voice called from outside the front door. “We’re here!”
Leigh rose. Ordinarily she would call for her cousin to come in, but this morning she had left the door deadbolted. She admitted Cara and the Pack, all of whom looked happy to be there except Lenna. Cara’s daughter’s face was sullen, her large blue eyes practically teary.
“Something wrong?” Leigh asked her “niece” as the girl filed by, last in line through the door.
Lenna dipped her chin. “I miss my Peeper-Do,” she mumbled, her eyes beginning to water.
Cara circled back around and gave her daughter a hug around the shoulders. “She’s become quite attached to that cat,” she explained. “She wasn’t happy to be leaving for most of the day, but I didn’t want her all alone at the farm.”
“Don’t worry about Peep,” Leigh assured Lenna. “As much as cats sleep, she probably dropped off the moment you left and won’t wake up until you’re home again.”
Lenna’s perfect rosebud lips smiled a little. She scooted off inside.
“So,” Cara asked Leigh. “How did everything go last night?”
Leigh closed the door and deadbolted it. “Peachy,” she replied.
Cara eyed her suspiciously.
“Ask my mother after we’re gone,” Leigh suggested in a whisper. “The Pack doesn’t need to hear it.” On a whim, she looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was Allison. Standing quiet as a ghost.
“How’s the cockatiel, Mom?” the girl asked innocently.
“Better, I think,” Leigh answered. “He ate all his egg this morning and some of the veggies, too. And he’s been moving around a lot more.”
Allison smiled and headed off towards the cage.
“Cara,” Leigh asked in a whisper. “Does your father have any friends in Miami?”
Cara’s brow furrowed. “Miami? Not that I know of. But he doesn’t talk much about his acquaintances from the past, for obvious reasons. Why?”
“Just wondering,” Leigh said vaguely.
After assuring Cara that they would talk more when they had some privacy, Leigh collected the boys, Allison, and her father and loaded them into the van to go back to the clinic. Her mind was reeling. To everyone else in the car, today was a new day. But to her, the last twenty-four hours had been a continuous blur.
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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