When McKinnon's housekeeper answered the door several hours later, Charly was dismayed to find that he was in Toronto and wasn't expected home until much later in the evening. She had been so sure she would see him. Hiding her disappointment, she went out and began her inspection of the barns and outbuildings. He had a very well run business and the standards of maintenance were high, so she didn't really expect to find anything to report. In fact, she was wondering why they had even put the file out. As she was about to leave the straw mow, she heard the distinct but weak mewling of very young kittens. Memories of searching them out in her father's barn came flooding back, and she set her clipboard and camera to one side, and then began moving quietly towards the sound.
It only took her a moment, because mamma cat had heard them as well and was on her way to feed them. Charly couldn't resist taking them from their hiding place and cuddling them for a few moments. One in particular caught her fancy. He was all black, a little larger than the rest, and much more aggressive.
"So, little Bagheera, you're going to be king of the jungle, are you?" He looked up at her with large, liquid eyes, blinking, but lying still in her hand. "Tell me, where's McKinnon? Why hasn't he called me? I thought maybe we could be friends, but it looks like I was very wrong. I suppose socializing with an employee is just as much a no-no here as it would be in a big city office. But damn it, I enjoy talking to him."
The kitten was squirming to get his lunch, so she placed him down beside his mother, and laughed when he tried to walk and toppled over in the straw. He was soon eagerly feeding with his siblings.
"Bye, little Bagheera. Grow strong and catch lots of mice." She spoke softly as she gathered up her things and went out into the sunshine. She didn't hear the footsteps pause at the far end of the barn, nor see the tall figure standing so quietly, just listening.
Restlessness plagued her later that evening as she tried to find something to do. Staying in on Friday nights hadn't bothered her before, but tonight was somehow different, probably because she had built up her hopes of seeing McKinnon, only to be disappointed. Driven with excess energy and no outlet, she finally pulled on some old jeans and a plaid shirt, braided her hair, and took gardening tools out to the flowerbeds.
She was attacking the weeds with unaccustomed vigour when she heard a car. As she rounded the corner of the house, she stopped in mid-stride. McKinnon was getting out of his black Cadillac.
"Hi Witch. What's new?"
Warily, she looked at him. He was acting as though they had just parted a few hours ago, instead of several weeks.
"Not much. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
Becoming suddenly serious, he said, "I wanted to talk to you. I hope I haven't come at a bad time."
"Oh, very bad, McKinnon. I'm busy entertaining the mayor and his wife for tea. Can't you tell by my attire?" She grinned at him as she pulled off her grubby gloves. "Come on in."
Since McKinnon had last been in the house, Charly had managed to finish furnishing it. She offered him a seat in the living room while she cleaned up, and she wondered as she did so what it could be that he wanted to talk about. She wasn't long finding out. He was pacing around the room when she came back and her defences rose because she could sense that it wasn't going to be good news.