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defensive gesture. “Hey, don’t blame us.”
    “Yeah,” Bruce mumbled. “We feel just as bad about this as you do, Ms. Wright.”
    “I doubt it,” she said. “I’m out of a job.”
    “I’m real sorry about that,” Bruce said. “We’re sure gonna miss you around here.”
    The regret in his face was sincere. She could not take her anger and frustration out on him. “Thanks, Bruce. If you don’t mind, I have to get Sphinx.”
    Bruce nervously checked the hallway behind her. “I’m not supposed to let you back inside, Isabel.”
    “I’m here for the cat,” she said evenly.

    He hesitated briefly and then squared his shoulders. “Go ahead and get the carrier. I’ll take the heat if Belvedere objects.”
    “Thanks, Bruce.”
    “Forget it. Least I can do after what you did for my grandson a few months ago.”
    Isabel moved into the office.
    Ken stood aside. “Are you okay?”
    “Yes, I’m fine.”
    “Sphinx is a little upset.”
    “I can tell.”
    Sphinx was crouched in his cage, ears plastered against his skull, eyes narrowed, fangs bared.
    “It’s okay, Sphinx. Calm down, sweetie.” She hoisted the carrier. “We’re going home.”
    “Belvedere can’t fire you like this,” Ken growled.
    “Yes, he can, actually.” She glanced at her cluttered desk and then determinedly turned away from the sight of all the work that was about to be destroyed. She had done her best to salvage Martin Belvedere’s research, but she had failed. There was nothing more she could do. She had her own problems and they were big ones.
    “Where is she?” Randolph called heatedly outside in the hall. “My instructions were clear, Hopton. Ms. Wright was not supposed to be allowed back into her office.”
    “She’s picking up the cat,” Bruce said quietly. “Figured you’d want him out of here.”

    “Cat? What cat?” Randolph appeared in the doorway, his anchorman features as tight and drawn as if he’d just been told that the network had decided not to renew his contract. “Damnit, that’s my father’s cat, isn’t it? What’s it doing here? I told Mrs. Johnson this morning that the creature was to be sent to the pound.”
    “Don’t worry, Dr. Belvedere.” Isabel walked toward the door, holding the carrier in both arms. “We’re leaving. The best thing you can do is get out of my way. You’re going to look awfully foolish if you decide to fight me over this cat. If I get really annoyed, I might open the door of this carrier.”
    Sphinx hissed at Randolph.
    Belvedere got out of the way.
    h ours later she sat at the table in the kitchen of her small apartment glumly regarding the array of bank and credit card statements. The windows were open, allowing the warm air of the early summer afternoon to circulate through the small space. She couldn’t see the smog when she looked out across the pool and gardens toward the other apartments, but she could taste it in the back of her throat.
    She had considered turning on the air conditioner but thought better of it after a short review of the state of her finances. A dollar saved on the electricity bill was a dollar that could go toward the payments on her precious furniture.
    “We’ve got a big problem, Sphinx. I’ve made all the cuts I can.I’ll cancel the gym membership and drop the insurance on the furniture first thing in the morning, but that’s not going to be enough to bail us out. There’s only one answer.”
    The cat ignored her. He was on the floor in the corner, hunched over a saucer of cat food. He tended to be extremely focused at mealtime.
    “Given your expensive tastes in cat food and my outstanding credit card debt, we have no choice,” she informed him. “The folks at the Psychic Dreamer Hotline are very nice and I could probably get my old job back, but, to be honest, it doesn’t pay well enough to keep us in the style to which we have become accustomed. Got to think of the furniture. If I don’t make the payments we’ll find a