“Hey, girlfriend…are you there?”
Cat heard what sounded like a stifled sob; then Marsha answered.
“Yes, I’m here, and lunch sounds great. Where do you want me to meet you?”
“Um…how about Billy Bob’s?”
“Good,” Marsha said. “One o’clock?”
“Yeah,” Cat said, and then added, “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely,” Marsha said. “See you later. I’ve got to go.”
“Okay,” Cat said, and disconnected, but she was still frowning as she got out of bed.
She knew Marsha well enough to know that something was wrong. She’d heard it in her friend’s voice. Then she shrugged off her concern, knowing that once they got together, Marsha would talk. She never could keep secrets.
Cat got some clean underwear and headed for the bathroom. Even though she’d washed her hair last night before going to bed, she imagined it still smelled of smoke.
A short while later she was blow drying her hair and trying not to think about the missing cat charm. The loss was something she wasn’t going to get over any time soon, but dwelling on it wasn’t going to bring it back. Sick at heart, she hoped seeing Marsha would help. Maybe a reminder of what they’d overcome in their young lives would put the loss of a simple charm into perspective.
As she was going through her closet for something to wear, she abandoned what would have been a normal choice. Marsha would be dressed to the nines, so the least Cat could do was leave her gun at home and wear something besides leather. A cold blast of wind rattled the bedroom windows, which reminded her that whatever she chose, it needed to be warm.
A short while later she was dressed, unaware of how her choices had softened her appearance. Instead of denim and leather, she wore a soft white cable-knit sweater and a pair of brown wool slacks. Her brown alligator shoes looked great, although they were a pair she’d owned for several years. Today she chose them for comfort, rather than style. She pulled her hair away from the sides of her face and fastened it at the nape of her neck with a tortoise shell clip.
She glanced down at her fingernails and frowned. The nails were short and unpolished, with one broken to the quick thanks to Nelson Brownlee, but they were clean. In her line of work, polished fingernails were the last thing she was concerned with.
After swiping her lips with a pale, glossy lipstick, she flipped off the light as she exited the dressing area, grabbed her coat and headed out the door.
Considering the number of holiday shoppers out on the streets, the drive to Billy Bob’s went smoothly. When Cat pulled into the parking lot, she quickly spotted Marsha’s silver Lexus with her personalized license plate, ALLMINE. It never failed to make Cat smile.
As she got out, she caught a whiff of the faint scent of burning hickory, a tempting hint of meat grilling inside. She was already pulling off her coat as she entered the restaurant and threw it over her arm as she scanned the room for her friend. When she saw Marsha stand up and wave, she began weaving her way between the tables.
“Hey, you,” Cat said.
Marsha kissed Cat and gave her a brief hug as Cat draped her coat over an empty chair.
The tension in Marsha’s body was unusual. Warning bells went off as Cat returned Marsha’s embrace.
“Sit, sit,” Marsha said, and waved toward a free chair. “I’ve already ordered some chips and queso. They’ll be here shortly, and that margarita is yours.”
“Yum,” Cat said as she sat, then took a quick sip of her drink.
Marsha’s smile was genuine. Impulsively, she reached out for Cat’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
“You look great, as always. So what’s new with you?”
Wilson McKay’s face immediately came to mind, but Cat ignored it. They hadn’t even had what would amount to a real conversation, so there was nothing to report.
“Nothing,” Cat said, then leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Spit it out, Mimi, and don’t lie. I’ll know if you do.”
Marsha blinked, then looked away as tears immediately pooled. The sound of her old nickname from her best friend’s lips was a painful reminder of a happier time.
“You are too smart for your own good,” she mumbled.
Cat felt sad. Seeing Marsha in such distress broke her heart.
“And you’re too gentle-hearted for yours. Who hurt you? Tell me and I’ll make him sorry.”
Marsha tried to smile through the tears. “Why would you assume it’s a man?”
Cat rolled her eyes. “Because they’re always trouble. Am I right?”
Marsha sighed, then nodded.
“Who is he?” Cat asked.
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you can’t keep fighting my battles.”
Cat frowned. “I can and I will. Come on, Mimi… I don’t like to see you this way.”
Marsha shrugged. “It’s my own fault. I knew better, but I did it anyway.”
Cat knew there was more. Suddenly it dawned.
“He’s married, isn’t he?”
Marsha hesitated, then dropped her head without answering.
It was answer enough for Cat, although Marsha stayed silent.
Cat stared at her for a few moments, waiting for details. When they weren’t forthcoming, she began to think back over the past few weeks to the times when Marsha couldn’t meet her for dinner because she had to work late. As she did, suspicion grew.
“Is it your boss?”
Marsha didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Cat could see the truth in her eyes.
“It is, isn’t it? It’s that damned snake Mark Presley.”
Marsha covered her face with her hands.
Cat stifled another curse and lowered her voice even more.
“Mimi… I’m sorry. Talk to me, honey.”
Marsha dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, trying not to smear her makeup as she considered what to say, even though she knew she could never keep secrets from Cat.
“Oh, Cat, just let it—”
“No. I’m not letting it go. Talk. Now.”
Marsha leaned back, took a sip of her iced tea, then shoved it aside. “He fed me a big line that I fell for. There’s nothing else I can say.”
“Did the line have anything to do with, ‘I’m getting a divorce and I love you madly’?”
Marsha’s expression crumpled.
“Pretty much.”
Cat slumped. She couldn’t believe Marsha had fallen for that. Then it occurred to her that there was a reason why Marsha would even give that line consideration.
“Oh, Mimi…you were already in love with him, weren’t you?”
Marsha’s chin trembled. “Yes.”
“The pig. So he got in your pants. How’s he treating you now?”
“Like I’ve stolen the company secrets and he’s looking for a reason to fire me.”
Cat’s eyes narrowed angrily. “He can’t do that.”
“Well, yes, he can,” Marsha countered. “He owns the company, so he can do whatever