Nine Lives Read Online Free Page A

Marsha to answer.
    â€œPresley Implements.”
    â€œHey, Mimi, it’s me, Cat. Are we still on for lunch today?”
    There was a moment of silence, something Cat hadn’t expected.
    â€œHey, girlfriend…are you there?”
    Cat heard what sounded like a stifled sob; then Marsha answered.
    â€œYes, I’m here, and lunch sounds great. Where do you want me to meet you?”
    â€œUm…how about Billy Bob’s?”
    â€œGood,” Marsha said. “One o’clock?”
    â€œYeah,” Cat said, and then added, “Are you okay?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Marsha said. “See you later. I’ve got to go.”
    â€œOkay,” Cat said, and disconnected, but she was still frowning as she got out of bed.
    She knew Marsha well enough to know that something was wrong. She’d heard it in her friend’s voice. Then she shrugged off her concern, knowing that once they got together, Marsha would talk. She never could keep secrets.
    Cat got some clean underwear and headed for the bathroom. Even though she’d washed her hair last night before going to bed, she imagined it still smelled of smoke.
    A short while later she was blow drying her hair and trying not to think about the missing cat charm. The loss was something she wasn’t going to get over any time soon, but dwelling on it wasn’t going to bring it back. Sick at heart, she hoped seeing Marsha would help. Maybe a reminder of what they’d overcome in their young lives would put the loss of a simple charm into perspective.
    As she was going through her closet for something to wear, she abandoned what would have been a normal choice. Marsha would be dressed to the nines, so the least Cat could do was leave her gun at home and wear something besides leather. A cold blast of wind rattled the bedroom windows, which reminded her that whatever she chose, it needed to be warm.
    A short while later she was dressed, unaware of how her choices had softened her appearance. Instead of denim and leather, she wore a soft white cable-knit sweater and a pair of brown wool slacks. Her brown alligator shoes looked great, although they were a pair she’d owned for several years. Today she chose them for comfort, rather than style. She pulled her hair away from the sides of her face and fastened it at the nape of her neck with a tortoise shell clip.
    She glanced down at her fingernails and frowned. The nails were short and unpolished, with one broken to the quick thanks to Nelson Brownlee, but they were clean. In her line of work, polished fingernails were the last thing she was concerned with.
    After swiping her lips with a pale, glossy lipstick, she flipped off the light as she exited the dressing area, grabbed her coat and headed out the door.
    Considering the number of holiday shoppers out on the streets, the drive to Billy Bob’s went smoothly. When Cat pulled into the parking lot, she quickly spotted Marsha’s silver Lexus with her personalized license plate, ALLMINE. It never failed to make Cat smile.
    As she got out, she caught a whiff of the faint scent of burning hickory, a tempting hint of meat grilling inside. She was already pulling off her coat as she entered the restaurant and threw it over her arm as she scanned the room for her friend. When she saw Marsha stand up and wave, she began weaving her way between the tables.
    â€œHey, you,” Cat said.
    Marsha kissed Cat and gave her a brief hug as Cat draped her coat over an empty chair.
    The tension in Marsha’s body was unusual. Warning bells went off as Cat returned Marsha’s embrace.
    â€œSit, sit,” Marsha said, and waved toward a free chair. “I’ve already ordered some chips and queso. They’ll be here shortly, and that margarita is yours.”
    â€œYum,” Cat said as she sat, then took a quick sip of her drink.
    Marsha’s smile was genuine. Impulsively, she reached out for Cat’s hand and gave it a