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out here again.”
    â€œBastard,” said Alberta, then followed up. “I mean him, not you, officer.”
    I thought Hutchinson might laugh at that, but he didn’t. He just nodded and said, “Come on, let’s pack these guys up and I’ll help you get them home.” He leaned over the chair for another look. “Cats don’t like to get in those cages, do they? How we going to get the mommy in there?”
    Alberta picked up the little tabby, kissed him, and placed him gently in the carrier. Gypsy craned her neck to watch, but she didn’t get up. I picked up the black kitten and lifted him to my face so that I could smell him and feel him. His body was warm and still slightly damp. Jay nudged my leg, and I held the kitten in front of his muzzle. Gypsy sat up and watched the interaction, but she didn’t seem to be agitated, so I let Jay get a good sniff. After all, he did find them .
    As if she were reading my mind, Alberta said, “Who knows what might have happened if that lummox had found them first?” The thought made me queasy.
    â€œYou’re a good boy,” said Hutchinson, riffling Jay’s fur.
    I handed the black kitten to Alberta, and she set him next to the tabby in the crate. She picked up the calico and turned to Hutchinson. “Would you like to hold her?”
    â€œReally?” You’d have thought he’d won the lottery from the look on his face, and when the kitten was nestled into his hands he whispered, “He’s so warm.” He looked at me and his eyes were wet. That did it. I was no longer on the fence about Hutchinson. I should have known he was a good guy at heart since Jay liked him.
    Alberta said, “She.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œShe’s a girl. Calicos are girls.”
    â€œAwww.”
    I think Hutchinson might have sat there all night holding that kitten if I hadn’t said, “Maybe we should get these guys home to your house, Alberta.”
    She lifted the kitten from Hutchinson’s hands and set her between her siblings. “Okay, mama cat, you want to ride with your kids or walk home?” Gypsy opened her mouth but nothing came out. She hopped off the chair, stepped into the carrier, and arranged herself carefully around her three kittens. Hutchinson closed the carrier, picked it up in both hands, and hugged it against his body. I pulled the door shut behind us, but I left the lights on. It was dark now, and someone had turned off the back porch lights. We needed the light from the studio, and I didn’t much mind running up Charles’s electric bill.

six
    Two hours later my taste buds were ecstatic. Tom and I were snuggled into a corner booth at the Bight of Bangkok washing down savory mouthfuls of pad thai with Singha beer. I had just wrapped up a fairly detailed account of the evening’s happenings.
    â€œI saw a photo of Charles Rasmussen not long ago,” said Tom.
    â€œWhere? The post office?” Ill-tempered as the man was, it wouldn’t surprise me if he were wanted for something.
    â€œ Connectivity .”
    â€œThe school newsletter?” The school I referred to is the Indiana-Purdue joint campus in Fort Wayne, where the two universities join forces. Tom teaches full-time in the anthropology department and I sporadically teach photography classes in their non-credit division. “Why was he in there?”
    â€œDonor. I skimmed the article and it was a couple of weeks ago, but he gave the school a pile of money. Golf scholarships, if I remember correctly. There was some controversy. Apparently he’s trying to develop in a wetland, and faculty and students in the environmental studies program objected to the university taking his money. I didn’t read the whole article, so I don’t know all the details.”
    I made a mental note to check the online edition of Connectivity for the article, but the little Janet demon who likes to poke her barbs