Free Borrowed Crime: A Bookmobile Cat Mystery by Laurie Cass Page A

my knees and bawl. “I’ll do my best.”
    “That’s my girl.” He reached around me to begin a serious hug, but a knock on the door stopped him. “Must be the pizza guy.”
    He went to the door, and I went to the kitchen for plates, napkins, forks (two, even though Tucker wouldn’t use his), and drinks.
    “Movie time?” he asked, holding the two boxes aloft. “I recommend something with a happy ending.”
    “Can we watch
The Sting
again?” I carried my stack of food-related items to the living room and piled them on the coffee table.
    One of the first things Tucker and I discovered we had in common was a love of movies. One of the second things we discovered we had in common was a love of staying up late watching movies.
    “Only if we can watch
The Andromeda Strain,
too,” he said.
    I smiled. There weren’t that many movies that featured medical research, but Tucker had all of them on DVD. He also had many of my favorites, from
The Wizard of Oz
to
The Princess Bride
to
Shakespeare in Love
. He didn’t have
Ghostbusters
, but I was planning on giving it to him for his birthday.
    We settled in, immersed ourselves in Depression-era Chicago, and when the food was gone I was content to sit back with Tucker’s arm around me.
    Five minutes later, his cell phone rang. It was the ring tone for the hospital.
    I tensed. “I didn’t think you were on call tonight.”
    He was pulling the phone from his pocket. “Had to switch with somebody,” he muttered, then into the phone said, “Dr. Kleinow.”
    There was a short pause when he didn’t move, but when he sat forward to listen with that intent expression on his face, I knew our evening together was over. I should have been sad that some patient at the hospital was in such bad shape that they needed Tucker to come in, and on most days I would have been, but tonight I needed him. Needed his comfort, his calm, his voice, his kiss, his presence. And he was going to leave.
    “Okay,” Tucker said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
    I was already on my feet and reaching for my coat.
    “Minnie, you don’t have to leave,” he said. “I won’t be long.”
    The last time he’d said that, I’d waited in the car while he went to check on a patient. I’d reached into my purse for my e-reader, opened up
The Hunger Games
, and was wondering how much rest Katniss was actually going to get sleeping in a tree, when Tucker returned.
    “No, thanks,” I said now, a little shortly.
    “I’m sorry.” He grabbed his own coat. “This wasn’t how this night was supposed to end up.”
    “I’m sure it wasn’t. And I’m sure that person in the emergency room needs you a lot more than I do.” My words came out a little childish and a lot whiny, but they were said and I couldn’t take them back. Besides, they were true. I sighed. “You’d better get going. I’ll be fine.”
    “Minnie, please don’t go. Stay, at least for a little while. I’ll be back as soon as I can—you know I will.”
    But I couldn’t stay, not here alone in this room that had no life. “I’m sorry, Tucker. It’s just . . .”
    I shook my head and left.
    *   *   *
    Late that night, up in my room, lying on my side with Eddie curled up next to me, I wept the tears I’d been keeping in, the tears I couldn’t shed in the bookmobile for the sake of rule number one. I wept for Roger, for Denise, for their children, for their entire extended family. I cried for all his friends and neighbors and coworkers.
    At the end, I finally wept a little for myself, gulping down sobs of sorrow and loss for a good man I’d barely known.
    Then, with Eddie purring comfort into my bones, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 5
    T he next day Aunt Frances insisted on indulging me. She brought me breakfast in bed, dug around in her extensive bookshelves for the entire Mrs. Tim series by D. E. Stevenson, and only let me come down for lunch when I promised I wouldn’t try to help with the cooking.
    I