Catching the Cat Burglar (2 page)

"Joanna!" Mrs. Palomino smiles broadly at me, and several of the kids run over to grab my hands, beaming up at me as I try to both smile at them and appear contrite. "Good morning, Mrs. Palomino! Hello, Mr. Elon. I'm sorry I'm late. I had - well - car trouble on the way down. I managed to get a ride, though."

"Ah," says Mr. Elon, completely ignoring me. "Just the man I came to greet." I blink and turn. Is he looking at Chase? Why has the head of the school board come to welcome the new assistant?

"Mr. Elon," says Chase, three bags in one hand, two in the other. "A pleasure to meet you at last."

"Here," says Mr. Elon, reaching out to help Chase with the bags. "Let me help you with that."

My eyes keep getting wider. Why...? What?

Mr. Elon turns with a smile to Mrs. Palomino and me. "I see you've already met Joanna Kilmarten. This Mrs. Palomino, a good friend of the library."

Chase smiles and extends his free hand. "A pleasure. Chase Xavier."

"Our new head librarian," beams Mr. Elon.

Kill me now. I wait for the ground to open up and swallow me whole, but it fails to oblige. Chase turns and smiles politely at me, but his eyes are gleaming with quiet amusement. Oh! He set me up! My mortification turns into anger. He totally set me up! I splutter, but before I can say something foolish he hands me the bags.

"Can you take these inside and set up, Ms. Kilmarten? I believe you'll find the tablecloths in the cabinet behind the check-in counter."

I take the bags weakly. Oh god. What did I say to him? I wince as I recall my comments about Mr. Elon. On the future of the library. My stomach twists into a knot, but before I can say anything the corners of Chase's lips curl up, and he turns back to Mr. Elon, who takes his arm and leads him off on a tour of the premises.

Jerry, Mike, and Susan, my three favorite kids, immediately begin jumping up and down around me asking to help, so I give them a bag each and then unlock the library door. Thank god for the kids. It's impossible to do anything but be one hundred percent present with them, which saves me from thinking about my new head librarian, and how I've just embarrassed myself with him. Luckily Soren, Anita's hunky werebear boyfriend, shows up with the ordered baked goods, and I manage to busy myself enough that I don't have to think about how embarrassed and angry I am for a good ten minutes, which then leads into the party with the kids. We play music, eat muffins, I hand out gifts, and the cries of excitement and happiness do more to ground me and light me up than anything in the world.

I read them a collection of their favorite fairy tales, and then finally Mrs. Palomino announces that it's time to go. There's a massive crush of group hugs, and when the kids are finally herded out the front door, I feel exhausted, happy, sad, and wistful. I begin picking up frosting-smeared paper plates, and then stop.

Someone is watching me.

I turn and see Chase leaning against the check-in counter, pea coat gone, arms crossed over his chest. I blink. The turtleneck does little to hide the muscles in his arms, his broad pecs, his whipcord lean waist. He's rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms, and looks all kinds of cool and casual and hot and elegant. He's obviously the kind of guy who always looks good, no matter how ruffled he is or how little effort he's put into his looks.

I remember that I'm mad at him, and draw myself up haughtily. I prepare a withering line, something that will make him properly ashamed of having let me make a fool of myself, but he interjects first. "Those kids really like you."

I pause. "Yes, well. I really like them."

"I can tell. Are you sure you want to leave the library? You seem at home here."

Dammit. He's making it really hard to be outraged. I stare down at the little plates in my hands and shrug one shoulder. "Maybe if Honeycomb Falls was larger. Maybe if there was more to do. But I need a full-time job."

He nods and pushes off the counter with his hip. A few steps and he joins me at the tables, where he begins piling up books. His hands are capable and dexterous. It's distracting. I keep wanting to watch how he touches things. It reminds me of the grace of a magician I once saw, that fluid, effortless agility. "There are other libraries."

"Yes, well, there's only one Honeycomb Falls. And - well." I find myself on the brink of explaining everything to him. How my father was a retired New York City cop, and how he impressed upon me over the years the value of civic service. Of protecting good people. Of making a difference. Being a librarian fed my passion for books and learning, for education and culture, but if the library is on the way out...

"Hold on." I step up and poke him in the chest. "You're not getting out of it so easily."

Chase raises one eyebrow, looking down at my finger then back up at me. There's a gleam in his green eyes, part amusement, but something else that I can't quite identify. Whatever it is, it makes me start thinking all kinds of dirty thoughts. "Getting out of what, exactly?"

"Out of tricking me!" I finally let my outrage show. "Letting me go on and on about Elon, about the library - you should have told me you were coming in as the head librarian, not the assistant."

The corners of his lips turn up in that quietly amused way of his I'm starting to recognize. That devilishly handsome way of his. He turns and picks up another book. "A gentleman never contradicts a lady." I can hear the ripple of amusement under his words. "Especially when she's so sure of herself."

"A gentleman," I say, glaring at him. "Would not set up a lady to gape like a fool in front of Mr. Elon and Mrs. Palomino."

He pauses, spins a book slowly around in his hand before setting it down neatly atop the stack. His eyes gleam, a suddenly dangerously smoldering light in their depths. "My apologies, then, Ms. Kilmarten. But you blush so prettily. You can't fault me for wanting to see it again."

What? Where did that come from? I feel myself go weak at the knees. He's not looking away. "Again?" My voice sounds weak. Oh god. Please don't let me blush. Not now. Not while he's watching!

He nods. "You blushed when you first saw me."

"I - um -" I splutter, my blush burning across my face. It takes all my strength to meet his jade eyes. He's unflinching, direct, amused and something more. How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? I draw myself up, and lift my chin. "Regardless. It wasn't polite."

He nods, acceding the point. "You're right. Let me make it up to you. How about lunch?"

"Lunch?"

He nods, expression disarmingly innocent. "Yes. Lunch. That's when two people sit down together to eat food and talk. You can tell me more about the library. Catch me up to speed."

Am I disappointed he wants to talk shop? Of course he would. What did I think he meant? Wine and intimate conversation? "Thanks, but I'll have to take a rain check. I want to head down to the police station and report that wolf. And call a tow truck."

He holds my gaze. Oh, how can a man's eyes be so captivating, so intense? I once visited Montana with some college friends, and we hiked in Glacier National Park. His eyes remind me of the skies there - deep and endless. I spent hours just lying on my back gazing up into that sky - and I know I could spend just as long searching the depths of his eyes.

He nods his head. "Of course." He takes up the books and turns to leave, and then looks back and smiles roguishly at me. "So I'm forgiven?"

I gulp. That smile makes my knees weak. "I think I can find it in me to forgive you."

His eyes gleam. "I'm glad. I was beginning to worry that your impression of me had been completely ruined."

My throat is dry. Am I going to be working with this man from now on? Taking orders from him? I can't tell if this is going to be hell or heaven. I know it's going to drive me crazy to be around him all day long - I just don't know if it's a good crazy or bad. "Not completely ruined," I hear myself say. "Just mostly."

"There's room for recovery, then." His smile makes me weak in the knees. "I'll be in my office if you need me, Ms. Kilmarten. Don't hesitate to knock."

With that, he turns and saunters away, and when he's gone, I finally allow myself to sag against the table edge and take a deep breath. Oh boy. This is going to be trouble.

Chapter 2

I slip out the front door, zip up my coat, and head over to the police station to report my morning's accident. The sunlight gleams on the berms of snow that line the street, and Honeycomb Falls is looking its festive best, with garlands on doors, decorations wrapped around street lamps, and the large fir tree set before the town hall done up beautifully with Christmas decorations. We're only one week out from Christmas itself, and the town is alive with excitement and cheer.

I wave and smile to friends as I head to the station. It's a two story, red brick building right on Bridge Street, an American flag hanging by the door, everything neat and tidy just like the chief likes it.

"Woof," says a scrunchy little misfit of a dog by the door. I pause. The little dog didn't bark. It had actually said the word 'woof'. I frown and stare down at him. He's a mutt, and a pretty amazingly ugly one at that, so much so that he actually looks comically cute. His back legs are larger than his front, he's got an awful overbite that makes him look like he's wearing fake vampire teeth, and his hair is a wiry mess of different colors. He looks up at me with bright, intelligent eyes, and wags his broken stub of a tail.

"Did you..." I trail off. I'm clearly more out of it than I thought. Am I actually asking a little dog if he said the word 'woof' to me? He cocks his head to one side, a bright little red tongue sticking out from his bushy whiskers. "Never mind," I say, and push into the station.

I head to the chief's office, but stop in the common room at the sight of cake, plastic cups filled with champagne, and the whole station gathered in one place. Which is a grand total of three people: Chief LaBonte and officers Bardwell and Grange.

"What's the occasion?" Even after nominally being part of the station for almost six months, I still feel out of place. I'm a curvy, red-headed lass; they're all much older guys with graying hair and the kind of solid intimacy that comes from spending decades together on the job.

The chief raises his plastic up. "It's a wake, Kilmarten." He's a heavy-set man, built like a black bear but with thick, snow white hair. "We're mourning the dearly departed."

"Someone - died?" I'm all kinds of confused. Why do they look so cheerful?

"I did," says Bardwell. "This is it. I've given my notice. Two weeks left, and I'm a free man."

"Free to sit on your porch and drink from sunrise to sundown," says Grance, and then sighs and shakes his head. "I'm a jealous man."

I feel a surge of sudden hope. "Chief, can I have a word?"

He looks disconsolately at his empty plastic cup, then sets it down and stands with a melodramatic groan. "In my office, then."

I follow him in, and close the door behind me. He rounds his desk and sits heavily. "What can I do you for, Kilmarten?"

"Two things." I step up. "On the way into town this morning I almost ran into a wolf. A huge one. I drove off the road, and then it attacked my car."

The chief sits up, all levity gone from his face. "Can you describe it?"

His tone is so sharp that I almost take a step back. I didn't know he cared so much. "Old-looking, all scarred, with black fur."

The chief reaches up and waves around the left side of his head. "His ear? Was he missing an ear?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Well, shit. And you said that this happened this morning? What time?"

"Almost exactly at nine. Chief, what's going on?"

He sinks back into his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Trouble, is what. There's a shifter that's been working his way down from Montreal over the past few months. A serial killer. A real monster. All the shifters are on alert, and their elder from the local Cairn called me a few weeks back to give me a heads up. Damnation. I'll have to send Grange over to the Cairn and let them know its been spotted."

"I'll go!" I've never been to the Cairn, but I've always wanted to go. It's a mysterious place, off-limits to town folk without official business.

"No, Grange had better handle this. This is serious business, Kilmarten. We'll let the shifters hunt this monster down. It's one of theirs, so they'll handle it."

"Oh," I say, trying not to let my shoulders slump. "All right."

"And the second thing?"

I take a deep breath. "Chief. I've been thinking about this for a long time. You know the library isn't doing well. We're down to three days a week, and they're cutting funding. If Bardwell is stepping down, I want to take his place."

"Take his place?" The chief's eyebrows shoot straight up. "You?"

I let that slide. "You know I'm dedicated. I haven't missed a single patrol. I've been studying for the entrance exam, and -"

"Kilmarten." The chief sits forward and rubs his jaw in the way he does whenever he's looking for a way to break bad news. "Bardwell is a very experienced officer. We're going to need somebody very good to replace him."

"But - I can be good! Give me a chance. What do I have to do to convince you?"

The chief sighs and tugs at his left ear. A very bad sign. He only pulls that ear when he's really losing his patience. "Kilmarten. You've got passion, I'll give you that. But zero experience, and zero accomplishments to your name."

"I arrested Oliver Whitmas three months ago!"

"True, but to my understanding he was already unconscious and covered in cake. That's not what I'm talking about."

I feel like I'm going to burst. "Fine. How about I arrest this serial killer? If I catch him before Bardwell resigns, will you hire me on?"

The chief is about to take a sip of his coffee when he splutters and almost chokes. He puts down the mug and stares at me. "Are you crazy? No! I forbid it. You'd get yourself killed. Or worse."

Worse? What could be worse than being killed? He continues, waving a hand in the air. "Look, you want a challenge? Fine. Catch me the burglar that's been stealing valuables around town, and I'll think it over."