Oh that kind of baby.

Ross joined in the search. They walked through the house more slowly this time and examined every nook and cranny. Nothing. Mo became increasingly hysterical as they checked first in this cranny then that nook and didn't find her cat. She went outside to call for Talley from the porch and then descended the steps to the sidewalk in front of the house. When they'd exhausted their search, she collapsed to sit on the steps.

"Oh, Ross, what am I going to do? He's nowhere in the house. He probably ran outside when... when whoever did this was still here."

Ross placed an arm around her shoulder and she turned into him, hiding her face against his chest.

"It'll be okay, love. He's probably hiding. He'll come out when things calm down," he soothed. Ross hugged her tightly to him. Her face was wet with tears.

"I'm soaking your chest," she said, wiping at the fabric of his dress shirt.

A distinct tingle radiated from the skin-to-skin contact. He suppressed the urge to press it further. This hug was all about comforting Mo, not about his urges. Anyway, he shouldn't have any urges. Hadn't he decided less than an hour ago to suppress his feelings toward Mo?

"It doesn't matter," he said, patting her hand partly to console her and partly to stop her from the stroking that gave him those dastardly urges.

"I know I'm being ridiculous, but Talley isn't an outdoor cat. If he got outside, he could get hurt. An alligator could get him."

Ross had heard about the extremely infrequent alligator sightings in downtown Savannah. Should he point out that her emotional concerns were probably unfounded? The cat would come out of hiding and come home in time. She only needed to wait. However, it felt wrong to try that type of reasoning with a hysterical Mo.

"If something happens to Talley, I don't know what I'll do," she cried, brokenly. Pulling away, she looked up at him, her eyes solemn.

Ross opened his mouth to try to rea.s.sure her again, but before the words had time to actually emerge, Mo flung herself against him again and resumed her crying jag.

With her rational mind observing from a distance above her, Mo knew she was stupid and weak to blubber like this on Ross. No man had patience for a crying woman for long. Besides, she knew that chances were in her favor that Talley would be all right. Get a grip Mo. Get a grip.

Ross disentangled her arms from around his neck and then stood up. She gazed up at him with hurt wet eyes.

"I'm going to go-" he began.

He was going to go? Just like every other man in her lifetime. They got going when the going got tough.

"I'm going to go search for him around the neighborhood," Ross said.

"What?" she asked just to hear him make the offer a second time.

His offer to find Talley-so unexpected- made her pause to process the words for a moment.

"I'm going to go look for Talley. Do you have a flashlight? It's getting a bit dark. Does he have a favorite toy? Or maybe a food treat. Something I could lure him out with. And I guess I better know what he looks like. Do you have a photo?" He glanced back at the house as if remembering the shambles the photographs were probably in. "Or give me a description. I don't think it would be advisable for me to drag every cat in the neighborhood back here."

At that moment, Ross appeared to her the most dashing, handsome, heroic man in the history of the world. Mo hopped up before hurling herself against his body, kissing him hard on the lips.

"You're wonderful," she said between more quick kisses.

His expression revealed a pleased surprise. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Oh, yes you have."

The endorphin effect of Mo's grateful kisses had largely worn off by the time Ross rounded the block, flashlight in hand, for the third time. At seven p.m. the comfortable dusk had turned to cold darkness.

Ross could probably indicate on a map the location of each tree, sewer grate, and foundation hole in the neighborhood after he'd examined them all tonight. Mo searched on the other side of the street with her own flashlight, inspecting the underside of bushes, the inside of trashcans, and the topside of sheds. Still no cat.

At one point, Ross had wrenched a smallish black cat out from under a car, resulting in several scratches for his trouble, only to have Mo say she'd never seen the hissing beast before in her life. Thank you very b.l.o.o.d.y much.

Ross almost p.r.o.nounced the task impossible, and even opened his mouth to admit defeat, when Mo blew a kiss in his direction and then smiled. Blast. He was trapped into more searching.

b.u.g.g.e.r the woman and her fantastic legs. Just b.u.g.g.e.r her. Yes, exactly the problem, Ross realized. He desperately wanted to b.u.g.g.e.r her...and other positions. He longed to have those fantastic legs wrapped around him, which was why he was out here forever searching the cold darkness for an animal which would likely make his eyes swell shut.

Being totally honest with himself, Ross had to admit that part of the reason he continued to search out here for the cat was that he wanted to be a hero for Mo. He stupidly wanted to rush in and save the day. Her dejected sobbing had stirred something primal within him. Ross wanted to be a superman. Worse than that, for the first time in his life, he wanted to be Stephen b.l.o.o.d.y Dagger.

Shivering, Ross pulled the ridiculous phantom cape around him and again set off. He had almost reached the derelict blue house three doors down from Mo's when he spotted a flicker of something shiny. If Ross had blinked he would've missed the faint gleam of two green eyes peering from the heavy shadows under the dilapidated front porch.

He trudged across muddy ground, overgrown with weeds, to obtain a closer view. His shoes would never be the same, but Ross wanted to be sure of what he was seeing. No need to excite Mo about finding her cat if this one didn't belong to her.

Kneeling down, Ross felt the icy muck seep through his pant leg, which probably meant saying bye-bye to his deposit from the costume rental booth at the convention. He leaned on one hand, the mud squishing around his fingers. Fab.

From this angle, Ross saw a cat crouched under the house's foundation. The creature hovered just out of reach by mere millimeters.

"Mo, I think I've found him," Ross called.

At the sound of his voice, the cat hissed and backed further away. Brilliant.

Mo darted across the street and then knelt at his side.

"That's him." She gave a gleeful clap of her hands. "Talley-baby, come to Mommy."

Talley gazed at them with solemn, unblinking, green cat eyes. He didn't move an inch.

"Are you sure it's him? He doesn't seem to know you," Ross said.

Mo held out a food treat, her hand reaching within six inches of the cowering mini-panther. "Mama's baby boy. Itobito baby. Come on, baby-boo." Mo tried to coax Talley by waving the treat back and forth. The cat didn't budge.

"Are you certain that's your cat?"

"Yes, of course," Mo grumbled. "He's obviously scared."

They sat in silence for long moments. Mo and Ross each stared at the cat who stared back at them. The only movement was the cell phone-sized palmetto bug that ambled out from under the house, crossed in front of them, and then scampered onto the sidewalk. At least they hadn't seen one of the city's famous armadillo-sized river rats. Ross didn't want to lose whatever veneer of manly bravado he had by screaming like a little girl at the sight of a giant rodent.

"We can either wait for him to come out or try to crawl in there after him," Mo suggested. She turned those sad brown eyes toward him again. "But what if he darts out from under the house while we're waiting and then runs in some other direction? We could lose him again. I think we should crawl in and bring him out."

d.a.m.n those eyes for being an effective weapon. But Ross wouldn't go down without a fight. "When you say we, are you actually asking me to crawl in there with the c.o.c.kroaches, rats, and any other beasties Savannah has to offer?"

"Please?"

His resistance melted.

"Oh, all right. Hold this." He dragged the cape from his shoulders before thrusting the garment toward her.

Eyeing the foundation in order to estimate the height of the opening, Ross realized he would have to slither on his belly. He lay on his stomach and then pulled himself forward.

The mucky ground tugged at him and Ross dug the tips of his shoes into the dirt to propel his body ahead. The motion reminded him of rock climbing in Australia. But the rocks had been a bit more scenic than the underbelly of this wreck of a building. He didn't want to think about what substance was pa.s.sing under his left elbow. The front of his white dress shirt was ruined no doubt. Yes, the deposit on this costume was definitely gone.

The cat, unmoving, continued to stare at him. Was he in shock? Poor little beastie.

"Hssss." Talley clawed the top of Ross's head.

"Ow. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l." He jerked back.

"What?" Mo asked.

"Your cat clawed my scalp."

"Awww. Poor baby."

Better. At last he'd received some of the concern his heroic deed merited.

"Poor little Talley. He must be really terrified. He never uses his claws," Mo said.

"Poor cat?" Ross grumbled, a hand going to his lacerated scalp.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he replied.

Ross slithered to a stop within reach of the h.e.l.lcat. Unfortunately, if he could reach the cat then the cat could also reach him.

"Mrrrrwwww. Hssss." The cat clawed at him, striking his hand.

"Ouch. Dammit," Ross yelled.

"He's not hurt is he?" Mo cried.

"He's not hurt, but my right hand may never be the same. I'll have to have a hand double for my next film. I'm certain I'm permanently scarred."

"Awww. Poor baby,"

"The cat is okay," Ross yelled with exasperation.

"I know. I was talking about you," Mo said softly.

So she'd finally offered some pity for his battle injuries. Bolstered, Ross inched forward again. Fortunately, the cat didn't move and didn't strike this time. Ross reached for the beastie.

"Come on, baby," Ross gritted out.

At the gravelly timber of his voice the cat's back arched, his hair stood on end.

"It's all right. n.o.body is going to hurt you," he said, trying for a soothing tone.

Ross's plan seemed to work as the cat moved a paw toward him, but a police siren ripped through the night.

"Hsssss." The cat scrambled out of reach again and into a piece of duct work that had come loose from where it had been connected to the house.

"That's brilliant. Just b.l.o.o.d.y brilliant."

The flash of the oscillating strobe lights seeped under the edge of the house, illuminating the crawls.p.a.ce. At the flashing of the lights Talley burrowed further into the piece of ductwork.

"The police are here. They must be responding to our call about the break-in," Mo said.

"Perfect timing as always."

The siren trailed off and the lights continued to strobe. Footsteps approached the rundown building.

"Hey there. We were called to a house about a breaking and entering. Were you and Mr. Dagger getting amorous against the house and somebody thought it was a break-in?"

"Ha. What a great sense of humor, Officer Tim." Mo's laugh sounded forced to say the least. "Good to see you again too, Officer Dan."

"What are you doing under that house, Mr. Dagger? Are you stuck?" Officer Tim asked.

Ross abandoned the attempt to clear up the ident.i.ty thing. "No. I'm trying to save Ms. Tuttle's cat."

The footsteps trudged closer. Ross glanced back over his shoulder to see a figure peering into the crawls.p.a.ce-Officer Dan.

"The cat really seems to like that piece of duct." Officer Dan moved away briefly and then reappeared making the cat hiss again.

"We've got an idea, Mr. Dagger."

"Perfect. I could use an idea at this point."

"I'll see if I can reach him from the other side."

The squishy footsteps moved to the far side of the house. Moments later, Officer Dan appeared, grinning at Ross from the opposite end of the crawls.p.a.ce.

"Where is he?" The officer flashed his hand-held torch around the darkness.

Ross held a hand up to his eyes to prevent being blinded.

"He's still in the duct."

"Oh yeah? I've got another idea."

The officer pulled at an object connected to a belt loop at the side of his waist. Ross hoped the object wasn't a gun. Surely, the officer wouldn't shoot at the cat. But Ross half expected it. He'd heard that things were a bit like the Wild West in the American South. Instead, as the officer brandished it forward, Ross realized the object was a nightstick.

"Officer, I don't think-"

Before Ross could complete his sentence, Officer Dan wielded the weapon. Bang, bang, bang. He pounded the stick against the backside of the metal duct.