“That owl scratched me.” Jane held up her wrist to show the red marks.
We were back at the bookstore, staring into the office. I shouldn’t find this funny, but I did.
Butterscotch hissed at Boss-Lady, clearly mad at Jane for disturbing her nap. The scene felt like déjà vu. Only this time there was a paper plate on the desk with crumbles. Jane must have indulged in a piece of Megan’s famous apple pie.
I walked into the office. The tortie’s yellow eyes eased at the sight of me. “Butterscotch only likes certain people.”
“Can you remove it?”
“Butterscotch,” I corrected. The tortie cat meowed as I picked her up. I set her in the hallway. She trotted towards the back staircase. “Close the door or she’ll reappear a few minutes later. Butterscotch spends most of her day in the office.”
Jane
