Page 160 of Hello, Summer
“She’s, uh, a rescue,” Conley said. “And I guess you could say she’s an orphan now.”
She confessed the breaking-and-entering episode at Buddy Bright’s apartment and repeated her concern that the police, when they finally searched the apartment, would turn the cat over to an animal shelter.
“What will you do with her?” Michael asked.
“I’m not sure. I can’t take her home because of Opie, my grandmother’s dog. And my boyfriend claims to be cat phobic.”
“You’ve got a boyfriend? Cool.”
Conley felt herself blush as she realized she’d just referred to Skelly, out loud, as something other than a platonic friend.
Michael placed the cat on his desktop, and she promptly curled up in a ball and fell back asleep. “Can I have her?”
“You like cats?” She didn’t know a lot of millennial guys who were cat fanciers, but Michael continued to challenge her opinions about that generation.
“Love ’em. We always had cats growing up. The place where I live now doesn’t allow pets, but I’m moving in with my girlfriend next weekend, and we’ve been talking about adopting a cat, so this would be perfect. I even like her name. Hi-Fi. Kind of retro, right?”
“Very retro,” she assured him. “I’m glad you like the name, because if you didn’t, I’m afraid that would be a deal-breaker.”
He picked the cat up and nuzzled her under his chin. “Awesome!”
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Winnie said when Conley finally made it back to the Dunes. “Glad you made it before the storm came through.”
The housekeeper and G’mama were sitting on the screened porch, looking out at the Gulf, where dark clouds hovered just at eye level.
“You don’t know how true that is,” Conley said.
“We saved you some supper,” G’mama said. “There’s fried chicken and butter beans on a plate on the stove, and Winnie’s potato salad in the icebox.”
Conley shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m really not hungry.” She sat down on a wicker armchair beside her grandmother. “I’m sorry,” she started, but Lorraine shook her head.
“Enough of that,” she said briskly. “Your sister sent me pictures. It’s an awful-looking mess, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I called my insurance agent, and he’s already sent an adjuster overthere to take a look,” Lorraine said. “Tomorrow, we’ll get a contractor to give us some estimates for repairs.”
“The whole front porch roof collapsed,” Conley said. “That car was going full speed when it hit. I’m afraid it probably damaged the foundation too.”
G’mama waved away her concerns.”The only thing of real value in that house is standing right here in front of me. A little worse for wear, but alive. I don’t care about anything else, Sarah Conley. It’s just things. And things can be replaced.”
She pointed out toward the horizon at the breeze blowing the sea oats. “We’re lucky to have a roof over our heads and beds to sleep in. And speaking of that,” she said, giving her granddaughter an appraising look, “your sister said that as soon as you got home, I should feed you and send you to bed.”
“Who died and left her boss?” Conley joked. “Are you putting me in time-out for wrecking your house and beautiful yard?”
“I’m putting you in time-out for working too hard. I’ll bet you haven’t even eaten today.”
“Not true. Skelly fixed me this huge breakfast tortilla with eggs and bacon and potatoes. And he forced me to eat almost all of it.”
“I tell you, Sarah, if you don’t snap that man up soon, I’m gonna steal him right out from under you,” Lorraine said.
61
It felt weirdly liberating and yet terrifying to be untethered to a cell phone as she drove to Bronson County on Monday morning. Conley kept glancing anxiously at the dashboard-mounted clip where her phone was usually anchored.
When she walked into the sheriff’s office, she politely insisted that Merle Goggins would want to see her, in fact had requested her presence. The deputy working the desk looked unconvinced, but after a quick phone call, she was ushered into Goggins’s office.
“Oh, uh, hi,” Goggins said. He pointed at her cheek, where an ugly palm-shaped bruise bloomed overnight. “That happen yesterday?”
