Free The Big Kitty by Claire Donally Page A

on the spine of the book, braced himself, pushed—and pushed again.
    *
    Sunny came home just in time to see Shadow shove the thick book off the living room coffee table. He leanedover the edge as if fascinated by the falling object, letting out an odd meow of pleasure—more like a “Yow!”
    Between that and the loud thump of the book hitting the floor, Mike Coolidge jerked awake. “Damned cat!”
    Before he could say or do anything more, Shadow dodged backward, not afraid of Sunny’s father but with a practiced wariness that made Sunny wonder about Shadow’s history. As a stray, the cat had more than likely encountered the nasty side of human nature in the past.
    Too bad I never had a chance to talk with Ada about Shadow before she died,
Sunny said to herself.
But then, I thought I had all the time in the world to ask her questions.
    Shadow launched himself into a long leap, hitting the floor on the bounce and landing at Sunny’s feet, where he immediately started twining around her ankles.
    She laughed, and Mike directed a sour look both at her and the cat. “Made me lose my place,” he grumbled. “Not that you care, with how he’s sucking up to you, Sunny.”
    *
    Shadow approached the New One—Sunny, she seemed to be called—and worked his way around her ankles, inhaling deeply, enjoying some of the new smells she brought into the house. He inhaled a hint of wax and fragrant wood smoke.
    Much better than the last time she’d come in, reeking of the Dead One’s house—and the Dead One’s stinking son, whose unwashed clothing had been bad enough, but who also radiated traces of anger and fear. And beneaththat, another odor, not only unpleasant but threatening. It wasn’t just the stench of death; in his wanderings, Shadow had smelled plenty of dead things.
    No, this smell was something deadly—toxic—that had led Shadow to name him the Stinky One.

6
    The next afternoon, Sunny sat on one of the wharves in the harbor, eating lunch and staring at the sunlight on little rippling waves. Otherwise, there wasn’t much of a wonderful panorama to enjoy. Seavey’s Island and the naval shipyard blocked her view of deeper water. The town had installed benches at the head of each wharf for any footsore tourists enjoying the quaintness of the old downtown buildings. On a Monday, these piers were pretty much empty except for a few outdoor lunchers like Sunny, alone with her thoughts.
    Shipbuilding made up an important piece of local history. Back in 1777, the sloop
Ranger
had been launched in these waters, sailing out under the command of John Paul Jones and into naval history.
    Maybe that’s my problem,
Sunny thought.
I love thistown, but I always thought of it as a place to come from, not a place to live. Dad is forever trying to get me to go out and meet people, but my friends—my real friends—have all left Kittery Harbor. To the people who stayed, I’m more a New Yorker than a local girl now.
    She tossed the last crust from her sandwich onto the water, and a seagull wheeled to pounce on it.
    I’ve been in a funk since I found out I was stuck up here—no,
she corrected herself,
even before.
    As soon as she’d heard about her dad’s heart attack, she’d headed back to Kittery Harbor immediately, using up her vacation time and then applying for a leave of absence. Taking care of her father had been the first priority, of course. But Sunny had also thought it might be a good idea to put some distance between herself and the editor she’d been dating—the married editor. Although Randall had been separated from his wife for more than a year before Sunny started going out with him, he was obviously very conflicted on the idea of a divorce. Sunny believed both of them had to figure out exactly what their feelings were, and this would be an excellent opportunity to do that.
    Well, absence hadn’t made Randall’s heart grow fonder. As the situation on the
Standard
got worse and he found his own job