Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 03 - Sleight of Paw

by Patricia Fry

  “Oh, a working horse?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “What will his job be?” she asked.

  “It’s a mare. She’ll be used for round-ups, branding; things like that.”

  “Does your dad treat horses well?” she wanted to know.

  Bud looked at her, cocking his head, a lock of his wavy dark-blond hair trailing alongside his temple. “Yes,” he said. “He’s very good with horses—has a gentle way with them.”

  “So he doesn’t whip them and stuff to make them mind? I’ve seen guys do that and it always makes me mad.”

  He shook his head and said, “Oh no, he doesn’t believe in mistreating any animal.” He thought for a moment and then said, “He’s the reason why I decided to become a vet—Dad and Grace.”

  “Well, you’re not a vet, are you? I thought you were a vet tech.”

  “Oh, I have my license, just haven’t officially put it into practice, yet. Too much responsibility, still, at my folks’ ranch.”

  “Who’s Grace?”

  “She was my first dog. We had dogs on the ranch—working dogs. And I liked them fine, as well as the cats and horses and cattle. But Grace was my first pet dog.” He seemed to be in another world for a moment as he brought her memory into focus. He looked at Brianna and said, “She was the most beautiful border collie mix and smart, too. Mom and Dad gave her to me for my eighth birthday and we were best pals until…” He took a deep breath.

  Brianna stared hard at Bud and asked quietly, “How was it that she made you want to be a vet?”

  “Well, she was only six years old when she died; she was hit by a car. I was the first one to find her. She was hurt real bad and I wanted so much to be able to help her, but there was nothing I could do. I swore then that I would never let another animal die if I could help it. I was fourteen when she died and I’ve been focused on being a veterinarian ever since.”

  Brianna reached out and rested her hand on Bud’s, massaging it with her thumb.

  He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes and asked, “So what made you want to be a doctor?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have such a touching story. I’ve just always been interested in science.”

  “Oh, one of those brainy math and science students?”

  “You might say that. When a junior high counselor suggested that I could become a doctor if I wanted, I thought, ‘why not?’ And my path has been leading in that direction ever since.”

  “What will you specialize in? Have you decided?”

  “Yes, I’d better have made my decision by now. I graduate in the spring. I want to be a geriatric specialist.”

  “Why?” Bud asked, his brow crinkled.

  “Why not?” She laughed. “I just think this is an area that, for many years, was neglected. And I think there’s a lot we can learn and more that we can do for our elderly.” She looked down at their hands, and said, “Bud, I think there’s a lot to be said for outlook. So many doctors today are focused on some of the wrong things when it comes to treating the elderly. We need more positive reinforcement and less major surgery, if that makes sense. I mean, putting a ninety-year-old man through major elective surgery just doesn’t make much sense to me. Sure, I believe in quality of life and I’m not against surgery. But I think some of our doctors today are frivolous in their recommendations where the older generation is concerned.”

  Brianna tilted her head. “You’re staring at me,” she said. “Are you even hearing a word I’m saying?”

  “Yeah, you like old people and doctors are frivolous,” he said flippantly. He turned serious. “You know, I really like your hair curly like that.”

  She displayed her palms, smiled and said, “This is the real me. I’m afraid I have curly hair.”

  “So yesterday I was with an imposter?” he said laughing.

  The couple pulled away from the table and watched as the pert waitress placed two plates in front of them. She poured more coffee into their cups and then retreated. Brianna looked down at her veggie omelet and fruit bowl with lust in her eyes. “Mmmm, looks good,” she said.

  “Not as good as my meat-lover’s meal,” Bud said.

  “Ewwww, all of that cholesterol and nitrates.” She paused and said, “It does look good, though.”

  Bud glanced up at her. “So, do you eat healthy all the time, or are you just showing off?”

  She smirked. “Humph, if I was showing off, it appears that it would be wasted on you.”

  “Yup,” he said as he dipped his heavily buttered biscuit into a bowl of gravy and took a big bite.

  ***

  “I need to stop for gas before we head out to parts unknown,” Bud said, glancing to his left before making a right turn into a quick-stop market. He pulled up to a gas pump, stepped out of the car, slid his credit card into the slot, and began pumping gas.

  Brianna pulled a bill out of her purse and she stepped out of the car, too. “I’ll be back in a minute—want to get a bottle of water. Want anything?” she asked before walking away.

  “Yeah, water sounds good, thanks.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. “Here,” he said.

  She slapped her hand in his direction. “I got it.”

  Brianna slipped through the automatic sliding door of the little market as it opened, looked around, and spotted the water bottles toward the back of the store. She walked up to the cooler, studied the sizes, brands, and prices, and then opened the door and removed two bottles. Just then she heard a voice from somewhere behind her: “Give me the cash.”

  She spun around in time to see a man standing at the checkout counter pointing what appeared to be a gun at the clerk. The heavyset man behind the counter stared in terror at the gunman. He stepped back from the counter as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Put the money in the bag. Now. Hurry!” the gunman said, glancing out the windows as if searching for someone.

  The clerk looked past the gunman toward Brianna, who was frozen in place. She could see that he was trying to figure out what to do—sound an alarm, pull out a weapon of his own, perhaps, or give him the money. Brianna just hoped he would make the right decision and the gunman would leave without incident. As far as she knew, he wasn’t aware of her. She wanted to keep it that way. But when the gunman saw the clerk look in her direction a second time, he turned quickly and saw her. He backed away from the counter. Keeping the gun aimed at the clerk and in a position to where he could see both of them, he growled, “Get over here where I can see you.” She hesitated. “Now!” he ordered.

  Brianna walked slowly toward the counter and stopped. She looked out the window and saw that Bud was still pumping gas. “Just give him the money,” she said to the clerk.

  “Yeah, do like she says,” he told him.

  “I don’t have much yet. It’s early in the day,” he said.

  “Don’t matter. I’ll take what ya got. Now get it!”

  The clerk pushed a button on the cash drawer. He reached in and grasped the bills, stuffing them into the bag the gunman had tossed on the counter.

  “That’s all?” he asked.

  “Yes. Like I said…”

  “Is there a safe here? What about a bank deposit ready to go to the bank?”

  The clerk shook his head. “No.”

  “You’d better not be lyin’ to me,” he said. He took the bag of money and then looked over at Brianna. She held a twenty-dollar bill in her hand. She had left her purse in the car. The man snatched the bill from Brianna’s hand and looked her up and down. “Got anymore on ya?”

  “No,” she said, through gritted teeth.

  “Let me see.” he reached over and patted the front pockets of her jeans.

  “Don’t you touch me, you slime,” she snarled. Just then, saw the sliding door open and Bud walked into view. The gunman spun around and pointed the gun at Bud. “Git over here,” he demanded.

  Bud held his hands out so the man could see them and walked over
next to Brianna. “What the hell do you want, man?” he asked.

  “I want your money. Give me all you got and don’t try to hold out.”

  Bud gave him a sarcastic look and then reached into his front pocket, pulled out a few bills, and handed them to the guy. The gunman looked down at what he held in his hand, “A hundred. Cool. Got any more where that came from?”

  Bud shook his head. “That’s it man. Now you’d better leave before the cops get here.”

  “What cops?”

  “The cops I called when I saw you through the window holding that gun.”

  The gunman became visibly nervous. He turned and quickly glanced around outside. “Shit!” he said. He ran to the sliding doors and looked to the right and the left and then he rushed back toward the counter. “My ride left me,” he said as if sounding defeated. He looked out at Bud’s Explorer. “Is that your car?”

  Bud grimaced and nodded.

  He looked over at Brianna and back at Bud, “You two together?”

  “Uh…” Bud wasn’t sure what to say. What does this jerk have in mind? How can I keep Brianna safe?

  “Well?” the gunman demanded.

  “Yeah, we’re together,” Brianna said.

  “Well, you’re gonna be my ride.”

  “No I’m not,” Bud said.

  “Oh yes you are.” He then reached over and slammed the pistol over the clerk’s head. Brianna watched in horror as the large man fell slowly to the floor, blood trickling from a wound on his head. The gunman grabbed Brianna and put the gun against her ribcage. She dropped the bottles of water. He turned to Bud, “If you know what’s good for you and you don’t want your woman hurt, you’ll do as I say. Now move.” He motioned with the gun toward the door.

  Brianna stumbled over the bottles of water as the gunman pushed and pulled her along with him toward the front door, behind Bud. She could only hope to see the cops drive up before they reached Bud’s car. But no such luck. Maybe it was a bluff when Bud said the cops were on the way. I sure hope not.

  Bud looked over at Brianna and saw that the robber still had the gun pointed at her ribs. He pushed it into her and she winced. He looked at Bud and said, “Git in and drive.”

  Bud scanned the area with his eyes—he saw no one who could help. Reluctantly, he opened the driver’s door and climbed in. The gunman put the gun in his waistband and opened the backseat door. He shoved Brianna in and then climbed in after her. Bud eyed them through his rearview mirror, a scowl of determination on his face. I will get Brianna out of this safely. I will. There’s too much I want to share with her. It can’t end here, it just can’t.

  “Turn right,” the gunman demanded.

  Bud complied. After they’d gone a few blocks, he reached down and felt his cell phone in his pocket. Not wanting to be obvious, he inched it up from the bottom until he was able to work it out the top of his pocket and into his hand. He glanced down and hit the button for 9-1-1. He set it to speaker and then turned down the receiver volume, easing the phone onto the floorboards beneath him.

  “What are you doin’?” the gunman growled.

  “Scratching my leg, what do you think?” He glanced into the rearview mirror and asked, “Okay, where are you taking us?”

  “Just drive, will ya? I’ll tell ya where to turn.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that you just committed an armed robbery back there at the 7-Eleven on Fletcher?”

  “So what? Needed the money.”

  “You may have killed that clerk when you hit him with the butt of your gun.”

  “Then he ain’t gonna follow me, is he? And he won’t be callin’ the cops, neither.”

  “And now you’ll have a kidnapping charge. When you get caught, you’re going to be in a whole lot of trouble.” Bud thought for a minute and then said, “You know, I may run out of gas in this dark blue Explorer.”

  “You just got gas back there at the station.”

  “You mean where you kidnapped us five minutes ago? I tried to get gas, but the cap was locked and I couldn’t get it off. I came in to ask for help getting it off.”

  “Crap,” the gunman mumbled. He looked over at Brianna and said, “And just when you and I had a chance to get acquainted. Guess I’ll have to bail and find me another ride.” He leered over at Brianna and said, “Maybe I’ll just take you with me. I could use a little fun.”

  Bud could see Brianna in the rearview mirror. She was coiled up against the right side back door, fear on her face. “The lady just may be getting out at the next stop, jerk,” Bud said, catching her eyes in the mirror. Just then, he turned the car sharply to the right, throwing the gunman off balance against the left rear door, and then he slammed on the brakes. “Jump out, Brianna!” Bud yelled. She scrambled toward the door, jumped out while the car was stopped, and ran right into the arms of a police officer who was just stepping out of his patrol car. Bud escaped out the passenger door, remembering to take the keys with him. He ran around the car, grabbed Brianna and pulled her aside, saying to the officer, “He’s in the backseat. He’s armed.”

  “You two get behind the squad car.” The officer motioned. He pulled the gun out of his holster, crouched behind the front of the car and aimed toward Bud’s car. “Throw your weapon out,” he called.

  The gunman hesitated just for a moment before tossing his gun out onto the pavement.

  “Come out with your hands up,” the policeman ordered.

  “Aww right, man. I’m comin’. But I didn’t do nothin’. These guys were just givin’ me a ride home. My buddies left me hangin’ as a joke.”

  “Yeah, armed robbery and kidnapping isn’t much of a joke. Just then, a second police unit arrived and one officer jumped out to help the first while a third one began halting traffic. Once they had the gunman cuffed and secured in the backseat of a squad car, the first officer walked over to Bud and Brianna, who were sitting on a curb. Bud had his arm wrapped around her and she was leaning into him.

  “Are you two okay? Do you need paramedics?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine. He didn’t hurt you, did he, Brianna?”

  “No. Just scared the bejeebers out of me. That’s all. I’ve never looked down the business end of a gun barrel before. Creeeeepy.”

  “Well, ma’am, you have your husband to thank for your life. He’s one clever dude. We have his whole conversation with this perp on tape.”

  “Really?” Brianna stared over at Bud. “How?”

  “I just called 9-1-1 on my phone and let them hear what was going on.”

  “But how did they know where we were?”

  He looked her in the eyes and said, with a slight smirk on his face, “GPS technology.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning, Savannah stood at the kitchen counter pouring a glass of orange juice when she heard a voice behind her.

  “Morning, Sis.”

  “Well, hi there. What time did you get home last night?”

  “Late,” she said while helping herself to a cup of coffee. “Thanks for giving me my own key while I’m here. Sure don’t want to wake up the whole household when I come in late. She looked out toward the living room. “Is Adam here?”

  “Naw, we had to take him home last night. He missed seeing you. He said, ‘Brianna’s cool. She let me scoop my own punch at the wedding and get two pieces of cake.’”

  Both girls laughed. “He is a cutie,” Brianna said. “I missed seeing him, too.”

  “Did you have a good time with Bud? How’d it go?”

  “Oh Savannah,” she swooned. “We had the best time. He is so much fun to be with.”

  Savannah glanced up at her sister. “Bud? Really? I guess I haven’t seen that side of him.”

  “Well, you’ve missed something,” she said while slipping into a kitchen chair, both hands around the warm coffee mug. There’s a whole lot more to this guy than most people seem to know.”

  “No kidding, like what?”

  “Oh…” she sighed. �
��Where do I start?”

  Savannah looked over at her sister, who was reaching her hand out, trying to lure Buffy toward her. She sat down opposite Brianna and asked, “Well, what did you do—anything fun?”

  “Ex-rated,” Brianna said with an impish smile.

  “Really?” Savannah looked stunned.

  “Oh yes. We stayed at this winery. We had a gorgeous suite with a Jacuzzi. It was the most heavenly night ever.”

  “Brianna! I’ve never seen you like this. He really must have made an impression. I’ve noticed the girls in the office flirting with him, but he never shows much interest.” She leaned in and said, “I think some of them kinda wonder about his sexual preference.”

  “Whose sexual preference?” Margaret asked as she appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  “Hi Auntie. She’s questioning Bud’s sexuality,” Brianna explained.

  “Your tech?” she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee and joined the other two at the table.

  “Yes. I never have seen him express much interest in girls or women, have you?” Savannah asked.

  “Well, I can tell you that he’s all man.” Brianna grinned.

  “Brianna, how did you find this out?” Margaret teased.

  “Wellllll…”

  “They had a room with a Jacuzzi tub,” Savannah said with a knowing smile.

  “No kidding. And you got in together? With or without clothes?” Margaret asked.

  Brianna cocked her head toward Margaret, a dark curl floating across her forehead. “I’d forgotten how blunt you can be, Auntie.”

  “Well, you started it—you said he is all man and I…er…we want to know how you know this.”

  “Experience,” she said coyly.

  “You mean you experienced his manhood?”

  “Auntie…” Savannah said.

  “Oh stop it, you want to know, too—Brianna, did you and Bud have sex?”

  “Boy did we…” she said. Suddenly unsure as to whether she wanted to take this conversation any further, she added, “And he saved my life.”

  “What?” Savannah said.

  Margaret flashed a menacing smile. “How?” she asked. “Did you swoon and nearly drown in the hot tub?”