"Get some sleep. Tomorrow you have to begin your life journey. Unpacking."

Ugh. I flopped back onto the pillow. A rest sounded amazing. My eyes were getting tired from working for so long. But he was wrong about one thing. Tomorrow I had to solve a murder. The boxes had to wait.

**

The next morning came quickly, and I felt even better than the day before. My nose had mostly cleared up and my throat no longer felt like someone had taken a hack at it every time I swallowed. The long, restful night of sleep healed me!

"Here, take these," Broadrick said, handing me three pills.

The vitamins from my doctor and then two red gel capsules, just as he had the previous morning. Which one did Neo pick to learn the truth and gain emancipation from the matrix? If this was all a dream created by machines, I'd much prefer to stay inside the program.

I pushed his hand away. "I feel great."

Broadrick set the pills on the kitchen counter along with a tall glass of orange juice. Two boxes sat in the room's corner. I swore I brought over all my kitchen stuff. What could be in them? I walked over and shook one.

Things inside rattled. Breakable things.

Oh right.

Plates.

Halfway through moving, I'd decided to leave the plates and just eat off paper for the rest of my life since the thought of moving such breakable things gave me hives.

"Just take the pills, Vonnie, and you'll feel even better." He slid the glass closer.

I deep sighed just to let him know how ridiculous I found the entire thing and then rolled my eyes for extra measure. He watched me like a hawk as I popped all three pills into my mouth and swallowed.

"I should have picked Tony," I mumbled as I finished the OJ and set the glass in the sink. He wouldn't have made me take unknown mystery pills.

Broadrick chuckled. "I'll let him know he's a contender."

Little claws scratched at the back door, and I opened it to let NB inside the warm kitchen. He pranced around, leaving small traces of snow on the floor. Once it warmed up in a few weeks, that yard would be all mud, but he'd probably love it even more.

"Did you have a good run, buddy?" I asked him as he darted around the kitchen island and then ran to jump on Broadrick.

He scooped him up and held his paws out before he got the chance to leave wet prints on Broadrick's pants. "I think he loves the fenced-in backyard. I'll take him to work with me if you drop us off."

"So you aren't planning to make me stay inside and unpack all day?" I figured he'd watch over me to make sure I suffered through every box.

He shook his head. "I know a lost cause when I see one."

"Fine, but we need to go now because I have something to do this morning," I said and left out the task.

At least until I pulled up and parked in the lot of my old basement apartment. I shut the car off, but Broadrick didn't make a move to leave the space.

"What are we doing here?" Broadrick asked, looking out the window like he expected an ambush.

I moved NB from my lap and he focused on Broadrick's window. His breath from his nose fogged up the glass and then he licked it away. "I have to feed the cat."

Broadrick recoiled. "Absolutely not. I'm not going in there. He's probably waiting for us."

"B, he's a kitten." I wished I'd brought something with me. Like a tranquilizer gun.

I snuck into the old converted home and tiptoed my way down the basement steps leaving B in the car. There wasn't a reason to inform Mrs. Mets, about my return, just in case.

"Spencer," I called softly as I opened the apartment door.

Broadrick's words about the cat lying in wait hovered in my subconscious and if I had a white flag, I'd have waved it in the doorway before entering.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty." I stepped into the apartment and did a slow circle.

Nothing.

"Spencer." My heart rate increased. Damn it, did he somehow get out? Frankie would kill me. Mob bosses didn't take the losing of their pets calmly. "Spencer, come here."

"Meow."

I whipped my head up and spotted the cat on top of the fridge. "How the hell did you get up there?"

He swished his black and white tail back and forth in annoyance as I pulled him down and then promptly set him on the floor a full foot away from me.

I filled his water dish with fresh tap water, added some dry food to his bowl, and then popped open a can of wet food. At the sound of the can top popping open, Spencer circled between my legs and purred, but I wasn't buying the fake attitude change. He followed me as I set the bowl of wet food beside his dry food and then hesitantly petted the top of his head.

"Maybe you aren't so bad," I said, giving him another scratch behind his ear.

He reached back with his head and bit the skin beside my thumb.

"Monster!"

I walked out of the apartment backward in order to keep my eye on Spencer at all times. He never lifted his head from his wet food bowl as I made my way across the room but tipped it up at me as I closed the apartment door and locked it.

I shivered and not from the cold.

"Vonnie," Mrs. Met's voice came from behind me as I locked up. "I thought you moved out."

I spun around and tried to make my eyes normal sized when I met her gaze. "Just grabbing a few things."

"Your hands are empty," she said and crossed her arms over her chest as she stood in front of the basement washing machine.

The woman could be a PI if she were thirty years younger. "Right, it was too heavy for me to carry."

"I saw your friends move your stuff out for you, but you weren't here. I almost called the police. Next time, you need to give me a warning."

There wouldn't be a next time, and I hadn't known what everyone had planned, so how would I give her a warning? I resisted shaking my head in frustration.

"I'll keep that in mind." The stairs were right there with my escape and I inched toward them.

Mrs. Mets moved toward my door. "You can't squat here, young lady."

"What?" I paused in my escape. I paid rent until the end of my monthly term. Who was squatting? "Of course not. I just need a few more days to get the last of my stuff out."

And get the cat back to Frankie after his vacation.

She inched toward the door and I backed down a step. "You're going to owe more rent if you take too long in getting me my keys."

"I just want to get it perfectly clean for you before I call it good."

She inched closer, forcing me to abandon my escape plan. "Did you trash the place?"

I jumped in front of the door as she held her hand out like she wanted to try the handle. So glad I locked it before I left. "Absolutely not. But I don't have a vacuum right now."

She stopped in front of me. "You should let me in to look things over and tell you where to clean."

I held my hands out, blocking her. "That's unnecessary."

Mrs. Mets narrowed her eyes at me as I barricaded her from entering my apartment. We were in a standoff.