Venus in Blue Jeans
“After that non-event, he didn’t feel too talkative himself. Something else nagged at him too, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Nico jumped onto the counter beside him and rubbed against his arm as he poured coffee. Cal scowled. “I’d be willing to bet you’ve already been fed.”
“He has.” Docia scooped him off the counter and deposited him on the floor. “Scat, you.” Nico gave her a brief, resentful meow, then slunk off to the back door.
Pep, ensconced in Uncle Ollie’s rocker, watched the cat with wary eyes.
Cal leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table, his coffee mug in his hands. “Nico was shot in the backyard too, wasn’t he?”
Docia looked up briefly, then down at her coffee again. “What do you mean, too?”
“Well, that’s where Margaret…”
She nodded quickly. “Right. You think it’s the same person?”
“I don’t know.” Cal rubbed the back of his neck. Something tickled in his memory. “Where was he exactly when he got shot?”
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