Pet had paced the room and fretted over that until sunrise, and then had stumbled over to sit on the bed as she continued pondering the issue. That was the last thing she remembered. Apparently, she’d fallen asleep during her pondering.
Sighing, she scrubbed her hands over her face and then glanced to the bedside clock. Pet stiffened briefly as she saw 11:14 on the digital display, and then cursed and swiveled around, already reaching out to prod her nephew awake before she realized Parker wasn’t there.
Pet stared at the empty space on the other side of Mrs. Wiggles and then stood abruptly and ran for the door. The hall was silent and dim when she stepped into it. The bedroom door across from the one she came out of was wide open, revealing the empty room beyond. Marguerite and Julius were up then, she thought, and turned to head for the stairs, nearly tripping over Mrs. Wiggles as the cat came out the door she’d left open.
Cursing, she sidestepped the animal and then bent to scoop her up. The cat meowed in protest, but Pet ignored that and carried her with her as she hurried to the stairs and down them. She knew Mrs. Wiggles probably had to relieve herself and wasn’t risking her doing it in the Caprelli house. She didn’t set the cat down until she’d reached and opened the front door. She set her down on the porch floor then, and waited just long enough to watch her run into the garden before closing the door. She then started up the hall, reassuring herself that she’d find Parker in the kitchen, probably sitting at the table, chattering Marguerite’s ear off as he drank juice and ate her cookies.
Those hopes died the moment she reached the room and saw that it was empty . . . as was every other room on the main floor, Pet discovered when she whirled and raced back up the hall, looking through each doorway she passed.
Pet almost went back upstairs to search every bedroom, but knew that if he’d been up there he would have been in the room with her and Mrs. Wiggles. He wasn’t in the house. That thought raised such panic in her Pet could hardly breathe, and her next thought was the house. He had to have gone back home for some reason. That hope had her hurrying out of the Caprelli house and running down the driveway and around the hedge, desperate to find Parker and ease her building panic.
Santo was watching the Purdy house, his gaze sliding from the front of the house to the front yard, the road, and back to the house again when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
The lady with the schnauzer was back and he could see that she was straining to hold on to the leash as her little dog went “Cujo,” as Parker had called it. It was a suitable description, Santo thought as he watched the dog snarl and bark and lunge madly about as if torn between racing up to the house to attack whatever was distressing him so, or dragging his mistress away to safety as quickly as he could. The woman on the other end of the leash was obviously distressed by his behavior. She wrapped the end of the leash around her wrist to guard against losing it and began to walk more quickly, but then suddenly glanced over her shoulder and then stopped dead, her eyes widening and jaw dropping.
Curious, Santo stood and walked to the front window to look out over the yard. His own eyes widened when he spotted Pet racing madly up the lawn toward him. Her hair was a wild black mass around her head, she was barefoot and still wearing the outlandish sleepwear she’d had on last night. Marguerite had mentioned giving her something to wear when she woke up, but if she had, Pet wasn’t wearing it. She also obviously wasn’t wearing a bra. He’d noticed that last night, but was noting it now again as he watched her breasts move up and down with each running step. The shirt was moving too, riding up to reveal the bottoms of the small globes and then dropping to cover them again.
“Are you going to stand there gaping at her, or open the door to let her in?”
Santo glanced around at that dry question. Julius had joined him in the room and was looking out the window on the other side of the French doors. Santo’s guess would be that his uncle had seen the lady with the schnauzer, noted her shock, and come to investigate as well. He knew he was right when Julius spoke again.
“I’ll handle the dog lady while you tend to Pet.” When Santo just stared at him, Julius then raised his eyebrows. “Well? Let her in, nephew. She has no idea where to go. The front door is just wood nailed over the frame still.”
When Santo glanced back to see that Pet had mounted the porch and now stood staring with dismay at where the front door used to be, he quickly moved to the French doors and opened them for her.
“Oh, thank God!” Pet rushed forward. She actually tried to race past him, but Santo caught her by the shoulders to stop her and frowned when he noted her pale and distressed face. He hadn’t noticed that as he’d watched her boobs bounce up the front lawn.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Santo asked, and couldn’t imagine what the answer might be. She’d been sleeping peacefully when he’d checked on her before heading over here, and Marguerite had been there to watch her, which made him ask, “Where is Marguerite?”
“I don’t know,” Pet gasped, clutching at his arms. “And Parker’s gone! They both are!”
Santo felt himself relax at once. He had no idea where his aunt was, probably in the backyard with J, but he did know where Parker was. Trying to sound soothing, he growled, “Parker is fine. He’s at school.”
“What?” She seemed shocked at the possibility. “How?”
“I drove him,” Santo said, and her eyes widened at the news as if she could hardly take it in.
“Oh,” she breathed finally, and sagged slightly in his hold. “When I woke up and he wasn’t there . . .”
“I am sorry,” he said stiffly, thinking he should have left her a note. But he’d expected Marguerite to tell her where Parker was when she woke up. He’d never imagined Pet would have been left to panic at the boy’s absence.
“No. Don’t be. I just didn’t know . . .” Giving her head a shake, Pet managed a weak smile and offered, “Thank you. It was kind of you to take him to school and I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure,” he muttered. Feeling uncomfortable with her gratitude, he turned it elsewhere by saying, “Marguerite called your work.”
Pet’s eyes widened incredulously. “Oh, God, I was so panicked about Parker I forgot all about missing work.”
“Marguerite called,” he repeated, thinking that should be sufficient to calm her again.
It was Julius who added, “She spoke to the head of your department and explained about the intruder, the destroyed door, and your being up all night. They were very understanding and said your . . . TA?” he queried, and when she nodded, he finished, “Your TA is taking your classes. You are to take as much time as you need. Just to let them know.”
“Oh.” Pet relaxed again.
“My wife also called the housekeeper, Oksana, and gave her the day off,” Julius added. “There seemed little need for her today and we suspected the state of the door would just upset her.”
That made Pet’s lips quirk up with amusement, and she nodded. “No doubt.”
Santo relaxed now that she was no longer distressed, and then, realizing he still held her by the shoulders, removed his hands and took a step back before her scent could tempt him to do something foolish like pull her into his arms and kiss her again right there in front of his uncle. Shifting uncomfortably, he tried to think of something to say, and then straightened slightly and asked, “Would you like coffee?”
Pet perked up at the word. “Is there some?”
“No,” he admitted and when she started to droop again with disappointment, added quickly, “I will make it.”
“Oh, dear God, no,” Julius said abruptly. “You are not making coffee. Not after that mud you made this morning. I will make coffee.”
Santo watched his uncle storm off to the kitchen, and then glanced to Pet to see her staring after him with twitching lips. When she turned to peer at Santo, the twitching turned into a smile that sucked all the air out of the room. At least that’s how it felt. Santo suddenly couldn’t breathe. She was so damned beautiful to him. Part of his brain could acknowledge that while she was pretty, she was no Helen of Troy. But that was only a corner of his mind. To the rest of his mind, she shone like spun gold, sparkled like diamonds, and was breathtakingly, heartbreakingly perfect.
“Oh.”
When she glanced down suddenly, Santo followed her gaze and saw the cat had followed her in through the still open French doors and was winding around her feet, rubbing her sides against Pet’s lower legs in a bid for attention. Santo turned to close the door as she bent to scoop up the cat.
“Did Parker feed Mrs. Wiggles before he left for school?” she asked as she straightened with the furball in her arms.
Santo shook his head. Parker had eaten his breakfast and then rushed over here to get ready for school. He probably hadn’t even thought of the cat.
“Then I’d better go see if Quinn has some tuna or something to feed her,” she said, turning away to head to the kitchen.
Santo automatically started to follow, but then paused as he recalled the task that he was here to do. Still, he stood, listening to the soft patter of her footsteps until they faded. Only then did he start breathing again. Giving his head a shake, Santo turned and moved back to the window. But while his gaze moved over the scene outside, his mind was full of Pet.
“Coffee will be ready in a minute,” Julius announced, sliding the coffee carafe into the machine and turning it on as Pet entered the kitchen.
“Thank you.” She offered a smile but passed him to begin opening cupboard doors in search of some kind of canned meat for Mrs. Wiggles.
“Ah, yes, cat food.”
Pet glanced warily around when Julius murmured that, wondering if he’d read the concern from her mind or just guessed what the issue was. It was impossible to tell from his thoughtful expression. Shrugging the matter aside, she turned back to the cupboard and had just spotted a can of salmon when Julius spoke again.