The kitchen also held the familiar sight of my dad perched on the kitchen island, the table already set behind him, and my mom sautéing something mouthwateringly delicious on the stove. It was a scene I had witnessed more times than I could count.
“Almost ready,” my mom said from the stove, leaning backward to receive a quick hug from Ruby and me. Her genes were strong. Ruby and Regan were the spitting image of our mother—dark blonde, with stick-straight hair and largealmond eyes. I, on the other hand, could have passed for my dad’s twin had I suddenly had access to a time machine and found myself back in 1992. We even had the same cropped haircut and black-rimmed glasses. My ex used to beg me to try contacts, but they dried out my eyes.
Like a well-rehearsed dance, we all joined my dad, crowding around the island, waiting until my mom finished cooking to make our plates.
“Have some candy while you wait.” Mom pointed to a giant plastic bowl filled with individually wrapped chocolates.
“Before dinner?” Ruby asked, but grabbed one all the same.
“I bought too many bags.”
“Youalwaysbuy too many,” I said, not taking one for myself. Every year it was the same. She acted like our street was about to become the number-one target destination for every trick-or-treater within a forty-mile radius. Next week, when they’d inevitably get a dozen kids max, she’d be stuck with pounds of Halloween candy that lasted until Christmas.
“What’s new at work?” Dad asked West, before West launched into an update. They were both in sales and always had a lot to discuss.
I had never been social enough to consider that path. Behind the screen of a computer was where I functioned best. I had always been the most introverted in the family, and I didn’t see anything wrong with that. My family, on the other hand, was always trying to meddle and said I needed to “get out there more”—whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. I got out enough. And I had friends. West and I saw each other all the time, and just because I only spoke to the guys from my sleuthing group online, didn’t mean they weren’t real.
Ruby retrieved mismatched glasses from one of the upper cabinets and placed them on the kitchen island before bending down to get the ice bucket we always used. Even though it wasan extra step to get the ice from the fridge, put it in the bucket, and then add it to our glasses, it was something we always did. As kids, we loved the idea; it reminded us of staying in a hotel. Even a couple of decades later, we’d never lost the habit.
Ice clinked in our glasses, and diet soda fizzed.
Mom announced that dinner was ready, and instantly the kitchen sprang to life—a flurry of plates being passed around, bodies weaving near the stove, and a chorus of lively chatter as we eagerly served ourselves.
I had barely pulled my chair up to the kitchen table when Ruby squeezed in next to me and said, “Before I forget, I have a proposition for you.”
I pulled my napkin from underneath my fork and placed it on my lap. “What sort of proposition?”
“Okay, see, this is going to sound strange, but I really need you to take it seriously.”
My interest had officially been piqued. While everyone around us started digging into their plates, I leaned back and folded my arms, waiting for Ruby to reveal whatever it was she needed help with.
“Of course I’ll take it seriously,” I said.
She chewed her bottom lip before sighing. “It’s my coworker, Hazel. She’s a super-sweet girl, but she’s been going through a hard time, and she just had something awful happen to her.”
“What happened?” Mom’s concerned voice rang out from across the table. Now everyone had stopped talking, eyes glued to me and Ruby.
“It’s her cat.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Her cat?”
“Yes,” Ruby said. “He’s been stolen.”
My face scrunched into a mixture of disbelief and confusion before I could force my expression to remain neutral.
“How does she know it isn’t lost?” West asked, voicing the first question that had gone through my own mind.
“Because she got a message from the person who stolehim,” Ruby said, frowning. “It really is awful. I know we’ve never been much of a pet family, but I can’t imagine someone stooping so low as to steal a cat.”
“She got a message? Saying what?” I asked, shoveling up some rice and meat with my fork and stuffing it in my mouth.
“That she basically has to pay the person a shit-ton of money, or she’ll never see Vermont again.”
“The state?” Regan and my mom asked in unison.
“The cat,” Ruby said.
“Cute name,” Dad said, reaching over me to scoop some of the pasta salad I’d made onto his plate.
