Free Alibis and Amethysts by Sharon Pape Page A

not one but two friends who would come running to her aid no matter why she needed
     them or at what ungodly hour. Having spent so much of her childhood with only transient
     friends, she hadn’t known such relationships could run as deep as blood.
    Daniel burst through the door brandishing a baseball bat and looking wilder than Jaye
     had ever seen him. Much like Sierra, he appeared to have leapt out of bed and into
     his car without even taking the time to tie back his long hair.
    “Where’s this beast?” Daniel demanded, scanning the interior of the shop.
    Jaye started to laugh. “Sierra, what on earth did you tell him?”
    “Just that some kind of weird animal got into your apartment.”
    “I think she might have lured you here under false pretenses, Daniel. She left out
     the part about the animal not being dangerous.”
    Daniel shook his head. “Wild animals are unpredictable.”
    “I don’t know,” Jaye said, leading the way upstairs. “This one seems about as wild
     as Frosty.”
    ***
    When they reached the top of the stairs, Daniel insisted on going in first, “just
     in case,” as he put it, and Jaye didn’t think it was worth arguing the point. He opened
     the door slowly, holding the bat as if he were at home plate ready to knock one into
     the bleachers. But no ferocious animal launched itself at him. There wasn’t even a
     small flurry of activity. From the doorway, the three of them had a good view of the
     living room and kitchen, but the not-a-cat was nowhere in sight. Once they’d stepped
     inside, Sierra spotted it first, curled up in a ball snoring peacefully on the love
     seat that faced away from them. As Daniel lowered his bat, Jaye swore she saw a look
     of disappointment cross his face.
    “It’s cute,” Sierra whispered, as if she were in a hospital room trying not to disturb
     the patient.
    “You don’t have to whisper,” Jaye told her, heading to the love seat. “My little boarder
     here needs to wake up so I can introduce you.”
    The not-a-cat half opened its eyes in response to Jaye’s voice, but looked as if it
     planned on going right back to sleep if nothing was amiss. When it saw the other people
     with her, its eyes flashed wide open. Shaking off its drowsiness like a dog shaking
     rain from its coat, the not-a-cat jumped onto the floor, where it sat clearly waiting
     for the newcomers to make the next move.
    Jaye sat down on the floor beside the animal to provide whatever comfort and support
     her presence could bring and to show Daniel that weapons weren’t necessary. That was
     enough for Sierra, who went right over and plunked herself down on the love seat the
     animal had just vacated, her eyes glued to the golden-furred creature. Daniel joined
     her on the couch with somewhat less enthusiasm, setting the bat on the floor so that
     the handle was leaning against his knee. His reluctance to let his guard down made
     Jaye wonder just how badly his other encounters with wildlife might have gone.
    He studied the animal from this vantage point, the furrows in his brow digging in
     deeper by the second. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said shaking his head.
     “It looks like a crazy mutation of a cat and half a dozen other animals.”
    “I think you should both stop calling her ‘it,’” Sierra said. “She has a pouch—you
     know, like a female kangaroo.”
    “I know,” Jaye said, “but everything else about this animal is so weird. I mean, if
     male seahorses can gestate their young, who knows if the not-a-cat is male or female?
     I haven’t been brave enough to do a thorough exam.”
    “What was that you called it—I mean, her?” Daniel asked.
    Jaye laughed. “A not-a-cat—that’s what I’ve been calling her in my head. At first
     glance I thought she was a cat, but a second later I realized she wasn’t, so . . .
     not-a-cat.”
    “That works,” he agreed, “at least until we can figure out exactly what she is.”
    “I love