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up?”
    “In the study,” Mildred suggested. “But I don’t understand how you expect to find Mr. Burberry with that thing.”
    “You’d be surprised.” He followed Alyssa out of the room. As soon as they were out of earshot of the kitchen, he said, “I’m sorry.”
    Alyssa glanced back at him, but didn’t stop walking, deciding to use an old cop tactic of pretending to know what was going on, and letting the guilty keep talking, hopefully inadvertently revealing the truth.
    “I certainly didn’t mean to upset Roscoe. It was thoughtless of me to bring it up.”
    “Maybe you owe him the apology,” she suggested.
    “You think so? You don’t think it’ll make things worse?”
    “Hard to say.” Especially since she had no idea what they were talking about. Still, she couldn’t help liking Pete a little bit more for being so concerned about the other man’s feelings. She pushed open the door of the study, flicked on a light, and pointed him in the direction of an ornate desk.
    Pete fell silent as he unpacked his computer.
    Realizing he wasn’t going to say anything else regarding Roscoe, she asked, “How do you expect to catch the catnapper with that thing?”
    Pete raised his eyebrows. “Catnapper.”
    “Kidnapper. Catnapper. Same basic concept.”
    “Well, I could come up with a list of suspects for you.”
    “Suspects.”
    “People who have reason to want Mr. Burberry.”
    She frowned. “Why would someone else want him?”
    “He’s got quite the pedigree. Plus, I’d imagine that certain people might enjoy having the mascot for Burr & Berry in their possession.”
    Alyssa closed her eyes, trying to absorb what he was saying. She’d heard some crazy stories when she’d worked the streets, but the one he was telling made her head spin. “Are you saying that the Michelmans own Burr and Berry?”
    “When you want a candy with a sweetness that sticks to your tongue,” Pete confirmed, quoting the candy company’s slogan as his fingers flew over the keyboard of his computer.
    “Wow.”
    “But actually, it’s just Mildred who owns it,” he elaborated. “She inherited the company from her first husband.”
    “That might explain why she keeps him near,” Alyssa murmured, thinking of the picture of her first husband standing by her pillow.
    “What?”
    “Nothing. So the cat’s really the mascot?”
    Pete nodded. “It’s his little face licking the lollipop.” He flipped his computer around so she could see a picture of a cat that did look a lot like Mr. Burberry licking an oversized rainbow lollipop.
    “So you think it’s a rival candy company that catnapped him?
    “Could you please stop saying that,” Pete teased. “It’s making me sleepy.”
    “Ha. Ha. Ha.”
    “It could be a rival company or maybe someone wants him for his pedigree.”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    He shook his head. “No. I did some research, and a cat with his pedigree is in high demand.”
    Alyssa moaned. “So basically our main suspects are sugar addicts and crazy cat ladies?”
    “Could be.”
    “Dinner’s ready,” Roscoe bellowed from the kitchen, effectively ending their conversation until the meal was through since Mildred outlawed shop talk at her table.
    Instead, the older woman quizzed Pete on how long and how well he knew Brady, and compared recipe tweaks with Roscoe. Alyssa would have found the situation maddening if she ’weren’t also enjoying the most delicious meal she’d had in months, maybe years.
    Pete might be a fan of Roscoe, the football player, but Alyssa liked him for something else entirely. The man could cook.
    She was just swallowing her last mouthful of stroganoff when the doorbell rang, souring her stomach. “Expecting anyone?” she asked Mildred.
    The older woman shook her head.
    Alyssa looked to Roscoe. “You’ll stay with her?”
    The big man nodded.
    Jumping up, Alyssa ran toward the front door, dimly aware of Pete keeping pace just behind her.
    Without bothering