Tucker looked disappointed but resigned. “I’ve got to get to work anyway,” he said. “You’ll be all right alone?”

For some reason, those innocuous words blew through my soul like an icy wind. You’ll be all right alone?

It wasn’t just Tucker talking. It was the whole universe.

I blinked a couple of times. “Sure. I was just a little freaked out last night, that’s all. Thanks for staying. I really appreciate it.”

After a beat, Tucker nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take that printout from your brother’s Web site. Do some follow-up.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I said.

Tucker made the slightest move, a sort of gathering of his forces, as though he might take a step toward me. Then he stopped himself, turned and went back into the bathroom to put on yesterday’s clothes. I wondered if a shower violated his job description, since he usually looked like he’d been living in a shelter for at least a week.

It occurred to me, as I was lying there feeling sorry for myself, that I didn’t know much more about Tucker than he did about me. I knew he was a detective with Scottsdale PD, and that he worked Narcotics. I knew he had an ex-wife and two beautiful kids.

Oh, yes. And I knew he could drive me crazy in bed.

That was about the sum of it, though.

I felt a little better, having thus justified keeping my own secrets, but not much.

When I heard the outside door close and Tucker’s boots on the stairs, I got out of bed. After nipping down the hall to turn the dead bolt, I wandered into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee.

It was when I went to the refrigerator, hoping a carton of eggs might have materialized while I slept, that I saw the sticky note he’d left on the freezer door.

“We’ve got a lot more to talk about. Like why you own a litter box and no cat. See you tonight. Tucker.”

“That’s what I get,” I told Chester, now watching me with interest from the floor, “for getting involved with a detective.”

Chester wound himself around my ankles, his fur tickling my bare feet.

“Ree-ooow,” he said earnestly.

I bent, my eyes stinging, and gathered him in my arms. “How am I going to explain the cat litter?” I asked.

He snuggled close, humming like a lawn mower at full throttle.

“Don’t go,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

He did.

It wasn’t a poof—nothing as dramatic as that.

He just dissolved in my arms, between one moment and the next.

One of these days, I knew, Chester was going to pull his vanishing act for good, and I would never see him again.

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE