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snarl. But no, I don’t need him to come. Nobody knows about Daddy in Konigsburg—that I’m related to him. I’d like to keep it that way.”
    “Why should you be ashamed of your father?” She could hear the disapproval in Mama’s voice.
    “I’m not ashamed of him, Mama, honestly. But I’d just as soon people judge me on my own without knowing we’re related. I’m all right here. I just need to get some sleep.”
    “You do that, darlin’.” Mama’s voice was altogether too chipper all of a sudden. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye, now.”
    Docia disconnected with a dull ache in her stomach signaling the absolute certainty that her daddy, Billy Kent, would be darkening her door sometime within the next forty-eight hours. Probably with the Seventh Cavalry in tow.
     
     
    At midnight, Cal finally left the clinic. He wanted to make sure the little cat was stabilized and relatively comfortable, then that Armando knew what to look for when he checked on the animal and when to call him if something went wrong.
    Konigsburg was closed down tight—no cars, no noise, just a distant Texas moon silvering the black velvet sky. Cal had never seen the town looking quite so sedate before, the darkened shop windows like closed eyes. Far down Main he heard a distant guitar twang, meaning the Silver Spur was having some live music. Other than that, the town could easily have been Lander, Iowa at midnight.
    Bite your tongue. You’re in Texas now.
    Grinning to himself, he cut west on Milam, still feeling the after-effects of the adrenaline rush he always got from dealing with a crisis at the clinic. And he had dealt with it. Docia Kent’s cat had been sleeping peacefully when he left.
    Cal had gotten her address from the cat’s file—he cut down Spicewood, heading her way. If he saw a light, he’d ring her doorbell, so he could give her the news in person. Otherwise, he’d call her in the morning. He had a feeling she’d be up, though.
    She was. A light burned in a window above the darkened bookstore. Cal hadn’t ever realized someone lived upstairs before. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been inside the shop.
    There was a door at the side of the building with a doorbell button. Cal shrugged and pushed it. Either she’d hear him or she wouldn’t, but he didn’t feel like pounding on the door and raising a ruckus at this hour of the night. Not after what she’d been through already that evening.
    After a moment, he saw the curtain covering the glass panel in the door move slightly to the left. Then the door swung open.
    She wore a white cotton nightgown, without a robe. The neckline was trimmed in lace. Prim pleats stretched across her amazing bosom, almost concealing the shadowy outline of her nipples against the fabric. She was barefoot, her riotous hair pulled back in a clip. Her toenails were bright red in the hallway light. All in all, she was the most sensuous vision he’d encountered since he’d discovered girls at age eleven.
    Cal felt all the blood in his body flow directly to his groin.
    “Is he all right?” Her voice shook. “Is he alive?”
    It took Cal a moment to remember what she was talking about, given that no blood remained in his brain. “Yes, sure,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just…I wanted to tell you that everything turned out all right.”
    “Please come in.” Venus—no, what was her name? Docia—turned back up a flight of stairs behind her. “I’ll make coffee or something.”
    Cal watched her splendid calves climb the stairs until his better nature kicked in and he dropped his gaze. He followed her up and through the door of her apartment.
    “Please sit down.” She gestured vaguely toward the sofa. “I probably have some wine somewhere.”
    Cal had an impression of antique furniture and a glowing green lampshade near the window. He couldn’t take his eyes off the goddess in the doorway.
    “That’s okay.” He surreptitiously took a few deep breaths. “I