Page 287 of Wild Card 13

Instead, I thought of Bea's smile. Rafa's face when his daughter saw her surprise.

I exhaled. "If I die saving Frozen Bento, I want a tasteful plaque."

Betsy waited at the curb,polished in the way old trucks could be polished when someone loved them past logic. The deep blue paint had been buffed until it shone beneath the late-June sun. The chrome was clean. The bed had been cleared out. Even the cracked leather bench inside looked conditioned.

I climbed into the passenger seat carefully, smoothing my dress beneath me. Ty shut my door before I could. I stared through the windshield. He jogged around the front of the truck and got behind the wheel.

"Do not say anything about the shoes," I warned.

His eyes dropped briefly. "They look expensive." He nodded solemnly and pulled away from the curb. "Perfect for an ice rescue."

"I hate weddings."

"No, you don't."

"I hate surprise ice sculptures."

"You don't hate those either."

"I might."

"You love Bea."

I looked out the window. Northbend moved past us in warm late-afternoon light, all brick storefronts and hanging flower baskets and sidewalks full of people who had no idea there was a frozen cat emergency unfolding among them.

"Yes," I said. "I love Bea."

Ty's voice softened. "Then we'll get her cat."

Northbend Ice Designs' auxiliary loading bay sat at the edge of town between a warehouse with peeling red doors and an auto body shop advertising summer tire specials. It looked exactly like the sort of place where a person in rehearsal-dinner makeup went to make questionable choices.

A man in insulated overalls waved us toward an open bay. "Wedding pickup?" he called.

Ty pointed at me. "She's in charge."

"I absolutely am not."

The man ignored me, which felt like an ominous theme. "You're here for the cat?"

Ty coughed into his fist. "Yes. The cat."

Inside the bay, cold air blasted over my face and immediately made my curls reconsider their structure. Sculptures lined theconcrete floor beneath bright industrial lights. Swans. Wedding bells. A champagne tower. A massive maple leaf. Something that might have been a dolphin if the dolphin had made poor life choices.

Ty stopped beside a covered shape near the back. "Please tell me that's not it."

The employee grabbed the edge of the insulated tarp. "Here we are."

I frowned. "That is huge."

Ty leaned closer. "That seems expensive."

The tarp came away.

Both of us froze.

The sculpture stood nearly as tall as Ty. Crystal clear. Perfectly detailed. Every curl. Every whisker. Every ridiculous ounce of fluffy judgment captured in ice.

A giant frozen Selkirk Rex stared into the distance like he was preparing to audit someone's taxes and find them lacking.