Grace Interrupted by Julie Hyzy Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t need to set an alarm. At about two in the morning, I awoke to a sudden weight shift on my bed and I jumped up, belatedly realizing it was the kitten coming to visit. “You scared me,” I chastised her. My door was slightly ajar—I must have not closed it all the way. Either that or little Bootsie here would make a phenomenal cat burglar.
    She didn’t seem to mind my complaint. I turned away from her to resettle myself and get comfortable. The moment I quieted, she climbed over my back and curled up under my chin, purring like a little engine against my chest. I thought briefly about fleas, but was too tired to worry about it. My last waking thought was that she belonged to somebody and was probably perfectly clean.
    My cell phone rang just after five A.M. Bootsie was still curled up next to me—neither of us had moved. “Sorry, kiddo,” I said, reaching over her to grab the instrument and glance at the number on the display, certain it was going to be a wrong number. It wasn’t.
    I sat up to answer, dislodging the cat. She yawned, but otherwise didn’t seem to mind.
    “Grace Wheaton,” I said, donning my professional persona despite the fact that I was wearing wrinkled pajamas and my hair was matted and smashed against the side of my face. I pinched my nose hoping to clear it. My head felt heavy and full. Congested.
    “Grace, this is Terrence.” There was a lot of noise behind him as though he was out in the middle of a crowd. People talking. Someone shouting.
    Terrence Carr calling me at five in the morning? I tried to blink away the blur that seized my brain. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “What happened?”
    “You better get down here. I need help holding off the press.” To someone else he said, “You’ll have to wait.”
    “Talk to me, Terrence.”
    “Not now. Too many ears at this end. Just get here ASAP.”
    “Do I have time to shower?”
    I heard him grumble. “Make it fast.”
    I did.
    Bruce and Scott usually left for their shop early on the weekends, so they were already awake. “What’s going on?” Bruce asked as I raced into the kitchen to grab a handful of almonds, which would serve as breakfast. “Want coffee?”
    I sneezed. “No time,” I said. “Marshfield needs me.”
    “This early?”
    I sniffled, then sneezed again. Instead of answering, I nodded.
    “Told you you were going to catch cold, didn’t I?”
    “You were right,” I said, my r s sounding like w s. My nose started to run and I dashed to the nearby washroom to grab a tissue. I blew my nose, then blew it again. Returning to the kitchen, I said in a clogged-nose voice, “I gotta go. Sou-ded like some kide of emergency.”
    “You got it bad,” Scott said. “I hate head colds.”
    “Me too.” I started out the door, then stopped. “Whad aboud da cat?”
    Scott raised a hand. “I’ll get her settled in here while Bruce holds down the store. I’ll make sure she has food, water, and a proper litter pan.”
    “Thakes guys,” I said, needing to blow my nose again—desperately. I stomped back to the washroom and came out with the entire box of tissues. “I’b takig this wid me.”
    “I think you’d better.”
    The interminable ride to Marshfield gave me time to wonder what could have happened that required my presence so early, much less on a Saturday. The tension in Terrence’s voice had been unmistakable. With a rush, I remembered Kincade’s vicious attack on Davey. I hoped there hadn’t been another incident. I hoped Davey was okay. Swallowing around a lump in my throat, I realized I was more worried about Jack. When Davey had refused to press charges against Kincade, Jack had been livid.
    I pressed the accelerator, pushing the limit and hoping there were no police lying in wait for speeders. They were notoriously active on this particular stretch but I got lucky and didn’t get caught. The roads were quiet and I made excellent time. Just before I pulled up to the gate, however, I realized why