That was the one who stopped when he saw Gus.
After asking where I’d found him, he took several photographs and stepped into the hallway to make a call.
When he returned, his expression had changed.
“We need someone to identify him properly,” he said.
I looked down at Gus, waiting beside my shoe.
“Identify what?”
The officer held my gaze.
“Sir, I don’t think you brought home a house cat.”
I laughed.
It was a short, uncomfortable sound, and neither of us smiled afterward.
“Then what have I been feeding for four years?”
“I don’t want to guess,” he said. “But I’d like you to keep some distance while we get an answer.”
Gus was still beside my foot.
He had finally stopped trembling.
I looked at the officer’s boots, the radio on his shoulder, the unfamiliar shape he made in my bedroom doorway.
