Free Hot Property by Karen Leabo Page A

convictions were just so much sawdust. This baby was special. The memory of bringing him into the world would be with him for along time to come. And the memory of Wendy holding him, looking at him with something akin to love even though he was a stranger, would be branded into his memory for life.
    He slipped out of the treatment room and left Wendy, Maggie, and the baby to finish up their goodbyes.

FIVE
    Wendy was grateful that Michael allowed her to make a detour to her house to change clothes before returning to the police station for more questioning. Funny, but a couple of hours earlier her new status as a burglary suspect had seemed a near mortal blow to her life. Now, after helping a new life come into the world and avoiding the myriad disasters that could have befallen them, she’d put things into perspective.
    She would weather this thing just fine, she resolved as she hastily stripped down to her underthings, acutely aware of Michael waiting in her living room with a thin wall separating them. She would answer the questions put to her as completely and honestly as she could, and the truth would set her free.
    Or maybe an alibi would. Thank heavens she kept such a detailed calendar.
    She dithered only a moment about what to wear. Something conservative, she decided, snatching fromher closet a pair of khaki slacks and a modest cotton blouse in an unthreatening light blue. She wished she had time for a shower, but she didn’t want to stretch the detective’s goodwill too far. He was being pretty accommodating as it was.
    When she returned to the living room, she found Michael sitting stiffly on the edge of her flower-patterned sofa with Bill and Ted wrapped around him as if he were a giant catnip toy.
    “Oh, sorry,” she said, walking swiftly over to rescue him from the affections of her demanding pets. She grabbed Bill off Michael’s lap and set him aside, then pulled the other cat from around Michael’s neck and cuddled him herself. “They’re shelter cats. Deprived of affection when they were kittens, so now they demand a lot of it.”
    “You
are
an animal psychologist,” he accused, though one corner of his mouth turned up, softening the criticism. “Do they have low self-esteem problems too?”
    “No, not Bill and Ted,” she said, setting Ted on the sofa and giving each cat a token scratch behind the ears. “They think a lot of themselves. You like cats?” She realized she was tense, waiting for his answer. For some stupid reason, it was important to her that he get along with her babies.
    “I’m a guy. Guys aren’t supposed to like cats,” he hedged.
    “That’s a cop-out, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
    Michael reached out reluctantly to pet Bill, who immediately abandoned Wendy’s attentions for thelure of a friendly stranger. “I guess cats are okay,” he admitted. “Especially big, manly boy cats like these who know how to show affection. What I can’t stand are those fluffy ones with the smushed-in faces.”
    “You sound like you have personal experience.”
    He nodded. “Snow Fluff. Faye’s cat. He cost four hundred dollars, ate nothing but albacore tuna, and hated me. He shredded my ostrich boots.”
    Wendy couldn’t help it—she laughed at the mental picture he painted.
    Michael scowled at her. “It’s not funny. Those boots cost more than the cat did. My one indulgence.”
    She laughed again. “Well, Bill and Ted cost ten bucks apiece to adopt, eat bargain-basement cat food, love everyone, and they haven’t developed a taste for ostrich that I know of.”
    “Then we’ll all get along fine. You ready?”
    At the reminder of the ordeal ahead of her, Wendy tensed again. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
    They didn’t talk much on the way downtown, until Wendy asked, “Michael, do you think there’s a chance, even a one-in-a-million chance, that I won’t be convicted?”
    “There’s a huge chance you won’t be convicted. You’ve got a great lawyer. The district