The man's dark eyes seemed to accuse Denton of unspeakable
crimes. Catnapping to begin with.
Eager to prove his innocence, Denton held Murry in front of
him. "I have your cat. He must have jumped from your balcony to my fire
escape. I found him sitting on my feet when I woke up."
Murry dangled between them as a furry peace offering for a
couple of beats, before his owner reached out and took him. Those eyes focused
on the cat for a moment, then back on Denton. "You fed him."
For absolutely no reason a shiver run through Denton, but he
heroically ignored it. "It seemed as a polite thing to do, and it's
daytime. I didn't let him get wet."
B. Maurell either hadn't seen Gremlins or had no sense of humor. "He's on a diet." The
warm baritone of his voice undermined the gruffness of the words.
"What kind? If it's Atkins, all's fine--I only gave him
tuna, no carbs." Denton meant it as a joke, and grinned like an idiot to
bring the point home, but all he received was stony silence in exchange. Tough crowd.
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