"I know," she said wearily, rubbing her brow. "Please don't badger me about it, Cage. I told them I needed to move out, but—"
"When?"
"The day after the funeral."
"Why didn't you?"
"They got so upset, I couldn't. And, really, it would have been cruel to move out right after they had lost Hal."
"So what about now?"
She smiled and shook her head. "I don't even have a job. At least not a paying one. I know I've got to make a life for myself, but I've let them manage things for so long, I don't know how to go about it."
"I've got an idea," Cage said suddenly and grabbed her arm. "Come on."
"I can't leave the groceries."
"You don't have the ice cream as an excuse this time. I caught you before you got to the freezer."
Figuratively she dug her heels in. "I can't leave a full basket of groceries in the aisle of the store."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Cage said irritably. He spun the basket around and, taking long striding steps, pushed it to the front of the store. "Hey, Zack!" The store manager peered over the partial wall of his office. He was counting back money to someone who had cashed a check.
"Hiya, Cage."
"Miss Fletcher's leaving her groceries here," he said, parking the basket near a display of pots and pans that could be obtained with saved coupons. "We'll be back for them later."
"Sure, Cage. See ya."
Cage picked up a Milky Way bar as they passed the candy counter and saluted the manager with it before looping his arm over Jenny's shoulders and leading her from the store.
"Did you steal that?"
"Sure," Cage said, peeling the candy open and cramming half of it into his mouth. "This half's for you."
"But—" He stopped her protest by popping the remainder of the candy bar into her surprised mouth.
"You never stole a candy bar?" Jenny shook her head, shifting the huge bite of candy from one side of her mouth to the other in an effort to chew it before it choked her. "Well, it's about time you did. Now you're my partner in crime." He opened the door of his Corvette and gently, but inexorably, pushed her into the passenger's seat.
Cage drove through the busy downtown streets with only a little more discipline than he drove on the highway. He turned into a curbside parking space in front of a row of offices. When he got out, he reached beneath the seat of the car and took out a cloth bag. It was the kind the city used to cover parking meters on holidays. He slipped it over the meter in front of the Corvette and winked at Jenny before catching her elbow and ushering her to the door.
"Can you do that?" she asked, worriedly glancing at the covered meter.
"I just did."
He unlocked the office and she stepped in ahead of him.
But she came to an abrupt halt on the other side of the threshold and stared around her in dismay. The room was in semidarkness, but it only looked worse when Cage went to the window and adjusted the dusty blinds to let in more sunlight.
Jenny had never seen a room in such disorder. A sad sofa, straight out of a fifties television situation comedy, was pushed against one wall. The rose-colored upholstery, which hadn't had much going for it in the first place, was grayed with generations of dusty. The cushions were hollowed out in their centers.
Ugly metal shelves took up another wall. They were stuffed with papers and ledgers and maps, the corners of which were curled and yellowed.
Every available ashtray was full to overflowing.
The desk in the middle of the far wall should have been junked years ago. A deck of playing cards held up the corner where one caster was missing. It was piled with dated magazines, littered with empty coffee cups, and crisscrossed with scratches and scars. An egotistical vandal had carved his initials in one corner.
Jenny turned to Cage slowly. "What is this?"