Well, that was a surprise. Cat, a fighter? I smiled at the thought as I handed a pape to Mrs. Crowston. She wasn't a fighter. Aside from the fact that she wasn't particularly strong, she just didn't have a fighter's instinct. Still, the thought made me smile because she was simply so adorable and because teaching her could be really fun. I wondered what had brought it on.
In truth, I'd had a bit of a day. It had started pleasantly enough, and there is always something nice about familiar routines and regular customers, but my mind was still a bit preoccupied. We had to find additional witnesses and possibly victims. I had an idea on how to go about it, but I worried about being discreet. Katja probably didn't want anyone knowing what had happened to her, and I wasn't going to be the one who let t he cat out of the bag. I spent the morning mulling over the problem, and my lunch date with Katja was a welcome break from the constant worry. In that respect it was a bit like old times-a mid-day selling break spent with Katja.
The banter was fun; it was good to see that we could still tease one another lightly. Not only that, but I was allowed to kiss her. In fact, she seemed to enjoy that part almost as much as I did. I did worry about her request to learn to fight, though. Did she feel she needed to learn to protect herself? Maybe I should have told her that I had Pike and Trug keeping a discreet eye on her today as she was on her own. Nah. She needed to feel independent and confident, and the boys had really only been for my peace of mind. She had been too embarrassed to tell me, but I figured maybe in time she would. As I sold my afternoon papes, my mind went back to the predicament of finding out if Santorelli had any other victims, and eventually I was able to formulate some semblance of a plan.