CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Miss Grant, everybody has rats. It's Chicago.”
A burly exterminator in a white jumpsuit stared curiously at Becca and Cyrus as they stood on the sidewalk outside the Wicked Cat. He had a bushy mustache and a paunch. An embroidered company logo on his chest said “Fontanelli & Son Pest Control.” The logo was an angry brown rat, a cockroach, and a spider in a giant crosshair. Cyrus wondered if this guy was Fontanelli himself or the son.
“Call me next time you see a rat and I’ll come out as soon as possible.”
Cyrus sensed the heat from Becca rising like a thermometer. She wasn’t going to take “no rats” for an answer. They’d already waited all day for him to show up, which he did just before the evening rush, and that didn’t help Becca’s stress levels.
The exterminator cros
