He made a sound a lot like a sigh and turned to look out the windshield.
We were only a couple of minutes from Roma’s clinic when I noticed that not only was there a lot more traffic on the road, it had slowed to almost a crawl. We inched forward a little more and then stopped. Owen craned his neck but couldn’t see over the dashboard or around the collar.
“Merow?” he said inquiringly to me.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” After we’d stayed put for several minutes I realized that if we didn’t get moving soon I was going to be late getting back to work. I pulled my phone out of my purse and called the library. Susan answered.
“I’m stuck in traffic not far from Roma’s clinic,” I told her.
Owen was standing with his front legs on the passenger door, looking out the side window as though he were looking for a way to get us moving again.
“I’m not surprised,” Susan said. “A tractor-trailer hauling potatoes got off the road at the wrong exit and jackknifed taking a turn too fast. Apparently there are potatoes all over the road. No one’s hurt, though.”
I blew out a breath, making my bangs lift in the air. “Okay, thanks,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I ended the call and discovered Owen looking at me. “Accident,” I said. “Looks like we’re stuck.”
I had no idea who was in the small silver truck in front of me, but the driver was clearly in a hurry. I saw him look out his side window and then check the rearview mirror. He sat for a moment and then from his body language seemed to decide something. He put the truck in reverse and, using his backup camera, came back as close to my front bumper as he could. It took a little back-and-forth maneuvering, but he managed to pull into the left lane, drive ahead a couple of car lengths and turn down a side road on the left that I knew would eventually take him downtown.
“What do you think?” I said to Owen. “We could probably get down to the library.”
He immediately sat up and tried to wash his face, which wasn’t easy with the cone in place. Owen loved going to the library.
Because the truck ahead of me had already pulled out it was easy for me to follow. I looked both ways, headed up the wrong side of the road and turned left without meeting any traffic.
“You have to stay out of trouble at the library,” I reminded him. “No going all Dr. Jack Griffin and roaming the building.”
Owen shared my interest in old movies, or maybe he just liked to lie in my lap while I watched them and scratched under his chin. Either way he was familiar with the H. G. Wells character from the 1933 movie The Invisible Man.
“Mrr,” he agreed.
I thought about how many times Owen had ended up at the building and not been on his best behavior. There was the first time, when he’d stowed away in my bag and then launched himself onto conductor Gregor Easton’s head. Of course, that had led, indirectly, to me meeting Marcus, so I couldn’t really be mad about that. And I knew that I was lucky to live in a place where people wouldn’t be that surprised by a cat at the library, where he really shouldn’t be.
Fifteen minutes later I was pulling into the library parking lot, just five minutes late in getting back.
“You have to get in the bag if you’re going inside,” I told Owen, reaching for the shopping bag I kept under the seat as much for wayward cats as for groceries.
I made my way across the lot and into the building, watching out for any patrons. It was one thing for the staff to know Owen was in the building, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to broadcast that information to everyone else.
There was no one near the circulation desk when I stepped inside. I waved to Mia, who was on the phone, and made it all the way to the top of the steps before I met Susan on her way down.
She grinned at me. “Hi, Kath, what’s in the bag? Did you bring something to share with the class?” she teased.
I knew she had to have guessed that I had a bag of cat, but all I said was, “Stuff.”
Susan slid her glasses down her nose and looked at me over the top of them. “What kind of stuff?”
I narrowed my gaze at her. “Librarian stuff.”
She glanced down at the bag and started to laugh. “Sorry, Kathleen,” she chortled, “but the cat’s out of the bag.”
It was.
Literally. Owen had managed to poke his head out, collar and all.
“Hey, Owen,” Susan said.
He meowed a hello back.
Susan headed down the steps laughing. Over her shoulder she said, “Cat’s out of the bag, Kathleen. I’ve been waiting months to use that one.”
She was having so much fun I couldn’t help laughing, and even Owen seemed to be amused.
• • •
Just before we closed the building I called Rebecca to ask if I could drop by with the parcel I’d signed for. I explained it was from Matthew.
“Of course you could,” she said. “Thank you for collecting it from Sandra. I wonder what he sent me.”
“I’ll see you soon, and you can find out,” I said.
“Kathleen, how’s Owen?” Rebecca asked.
“Roma just checked him out a little while ago,” I said. “He’s healing well. In fact right now he’s sitting in the middle of my desk pushing the pens on the floor.” I explained about the jackknifed truck holding up traffic.
“Don’t leave him in your truck. Bring him up to say hello.”
I hesitated. “You know what Owen is like,” I said. “He’ll nose around every inch of the apartment.”
“I don’t mind a bit,” she said. “And you know that cats are good for a person’s mental health. They lower stress levels and anxiety.”
Trying to win an argument with Rebecca was like trying to win one with Owen. It wasn’t going to happen. “All right,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to be stressed and anxious.”
“Thank you, dear,” she said. “You’re so thoughtful.”
“And Owen does want to thank you for the chicken. This way he won’t have to write a thank-you note.”
Rebecca laughed. I told her we’d be there within a half hour and we said good-bye.
About fifteen minutes later I was doing my last quick survey of the main floor of the building when I noticed Mia standing by the main entrance, making a face at her phone. I walked over to her. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Dad’s still at his office and he wants me to meet him there.”
“It’s raining. I’ll give you a ride,” I said.
She smiled. “Thank you, but I really wanted to go see Grandpa.” She sighed. “Dad says he’ll only be another twenty minutes but I know what that means. I’ll be stuck there for at least an hour.” She made a face. “You know how Einstein proposed in the theory of relativity that time is a relative concept?”
I nodded. I did know that—from a college physics class years ago, and I was impressed that Mia did as well.
She glanced at her phone before looking at me again. “Well, when I’m waiting for Dad I definitely experience time dilation, because it definitely slows down for me.”
I smiled at her. “I’m going to take a package to Rebecca Henderson. She told me your grandfather is staying in the other apartment there. Text your dad and see if it’s okay if you come with me and he can pick you up there.”
A smile started to spread across the teen’s face. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“Positive.” There was a muffled meow from my canvas tote. “So is Owen.”
She laughed and bent her head over her phone to text Simon. Then she looked at me. “Five, four, three, two, one,” she counted down. Her phone rang. “Dad,” she said.
Mia answered the call, listened for a moment and then said, “Okay.” She held the phone out to me.
“Hi, Kathleen,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t mind dropping off Mia at her grandfather’s?”
“I don’t,” I said. “I have to take a parcel to Rebecca. And she didn’t ask. I offered, if that’s what you’re worried about.”