Chapter 2
“Looks like you’ve been making friends.”
The voice woke Dez out of a doze. He blinked awake, trying to orient himself. There was a weight on his stomach—Riley still lay there. It was Francis Green who’d spoken. He stood in the open doorway, head bandaged, looking quite the orphan of the storm, wearing a coat over pajamas pants, a hospital gown, and shoes with no socks.
“How’d you get in?” Dez asked. He didn’t sit up. Riley wasn’t the only cat cuddling up to him. A couple more had sneaked closer during the night and lay either on or right beside him.
“Those CSI people are working on the doors,” Francis said.
Dez glanced at a clock on the wall. Almost nine. Good grief.
“SOCO, not CSI. How’s your head?”
“Fine. Well, fine enough.” A couple of the cats had greeted him, and he p
