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Sam gives me a look when I say “super.” He’s probably right; I need to tone it down.
I slip my hand into my pocket and take out the bracelet. It shines in the fluorescent lights. “Look at this gaudy collar.” I laugh. “Who puts a cat in something like this?”
“I think I might know the owner,” the guy says slowly. His eyes sparkle like the stones.
As convincers go, I’ve seen worse.
“Man, my sister’s going to be disappointed.” I take a breath, let it out again. “Well, tell your friend to call me.”
This is the moment of truth, and when I look into the face of the mark at the counter, I can tell that I’ve got him. He’s probably not a bad guy, but that five hundred dollars is quite a lure. Plus the collar.
Plus, he’d have an excuse to call Daneca.
“Wait,” he says. “Maybe you could bring the cat here. I’m sure I know the owner. The cat’s name is Coconut.”
I turn toward the door and then back to him. “I was stupid to tell my sister, but now she’s all excited and—well, I don’t suppose you have a white cat here? All I told her about it was the color.”
He looks eager. “We do. Sure.”
I let out my breath. I’m not faking the relief that I know floods my face. “Oh, great. I’d love to have a white cat to take home to her.”
He grins. Like I said, people love to help, especially when they can help themselves in doing so.
“Cool,” I say. “Let me fill out the paperwork and we’ll take the cat. Your friend’s fluffy kitty is at this guy’s house, so we’ll go get her and bring her right to you.” I gesture toward Sam.
“The thing’s probably giving fleas to my mother’s couch,” Sam says, which is perfect. I wish I could tell him that, but all I can do is give him a grateful glance.
The mark hands me the form, and this time I know what to do. I write down my age as nineteen, specify a veterinarian, and make up a name that’s not even close to my own.
“Do you have any ID?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, and reach into my back pocket for my wallet. I flip it open and touch the place where driver’s licenses go. Mine’s not there.
“Oh, man,” I say. “This isn’t my day.”
“Where’d you leave it?” the guy asks.
I shake my head. “No idea. Look, I totally understand if that breaks the rules or whatever. I have one other place to hang up fliers, then I’ll go look for my license. Maybe your friend can give me a call and I can just drop the cat with her. My sister will understand.”
The guy gives me a long evaluating look.
“You have the adoption fee?” he asks.
I look down at the paper, but I already know what it says. “Fifty bucks, sure.”
The door rings, and some people walk through it, but the man behind the desk keeps his eyes on me. He licks his lips.
I take out the cash and set it down on the counter in front of him. I’ve blown through a chunk of my savings in the last few days, between bad bets and spending. I’m going to have to be careful if Lila and I wind up having to get out of town on the rest.
“Okay, I’ll hook you up,” the mark says, taking the money.
“Oh,” I say. “Cool. Thanks.” I know better than to overplay it.
“So, this long-haired cat,” Sam says, and I freeze, willing him not to stick his foot in it. He’s looking at the guy behind the counter. “Do you need to call your friend or anything?”
“I will,” he says, and I can see the red creeping up his neck. “I want to surprise her.”
A woman walks up to the desk, a filled out form clutched in her hand. She looks impatient. I have to push.
