Fur Ball Fever

Chapter 5

The door of the security kiosk rattled. Nick's voice growled, "Open up. I know you're in there, Gracie."

"Only if you promise not to yell."

"If you don't let me in, I'm charging you with trespassing."

"Better do what he says," Auntie Beth whispered. "We don't want trouble with the fuzz."

After a long pause Nick spoke up again. "Are you in there too, Beth?"

Auntie Beth grinned. "Sure am. Hang on. Gracie will open the door."

"Traitor," Grace whispered. "Your brownies drugged the day guard. You'd better back me up on everything I say or Nick'll turn us in. He hates weed."

"If you ask me, Nick should fire Milt for neglecting his duties," Auntie Beth muttered.

Grace's impatient gesture sent her aunt scuttling over to the desk where she flipped a pad of legal paper over the brownies and brushed the crumbs onto the floor. A couple of good stomps ground them into the rug. To conceal the filing cabinet, Grace nudged the visitor's chair over, and dumped a stack of printouts on it. Thankfully, Milt had settled down.

Grace opened the door. "Hey, Nick."

Nick entered, filling the kiosk with indignant male, a gust of warm air, and sandalwood soap. Grace wanted to howl at the moon. Instead, she backed away.

Auntie Beth rose to the occasion by commandeering the swivel chair behind the desk. "You're a sight for sore eyes, boy," she said.

Nick made a visible effort to collect himself before nodding at Auntie Beth. "Imagine finding y'all here." He scanned the room with somber eyes until his gaze settled on Grace, skewering her. "Where's Milt?"

Grace worked at projecting innocence by perching on the edge of the desk and crossing her legs. She hoped Nick didn't notice she'd abandoned her sexy sandals in favor of sneakers. She evaded his question by replying, "Here's the thing. Auntie Beth is an old friend of Milt's."

Auntie Beth backed her up. "Yup. Milt and I have unfinished business. Gracie came along to provide moral support. Good job we stopped by because Milt asked us to cover for him while he stepped outside. Said he was under the weather."

Nick's incredulous stare said he wasn't buying.

Grace swung her leg as she picked up the fabrication. "Milt bolted out of here."

Auntie Beth embroidered the lie. "Yeah. Like his butt was on fire, which it probably was. He mentioned a bowl of bad chili, asked us to mind the kiosk while he, uh, tended to his needs."

Grace elaborated. "He went to buy some Imodium."

Nick's cold gaze called them liars. A muscle flickered in his jaw. Unless Grace missed her guess, he was beyond pissed, working on a slow burn, and closing in on incendiary.

In a flat, even voice he said, "It's time y'all skedaddled."

***

Congratulating himself for keeping an iron grip on his temper, Nick waited patiently for Gracie and her aunt to leave. They'd tricked their way into the security kiosk. Worse, Gracie had disobeyed a direct order to stay home until the cops nailed the shooter. Not that he truly believed she was the target, but a man didn't take chances when it came to ensuring a lady's safety. Several seconds ticked by in silence. He started to smell a fat, hairy rat.

He cast a wary glance around the room. It wasn't like Milt to leave his post. On the other hand if he'd eaten some bad chili, he surely had a valid excuse for ducking out. A man had to do what a man had to do.