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at me with complete adoration. God, but I love that kid.
"We ready?" I asked, buckling myself in.
"Ready!" he howled, shoving a little fist in the air. "To infinity, and
beyond!" he added, which made our errands sound a whole lot more exciting than
I anticipated. Frankly, I wasn't sure that was a good thing.
Stuart and I have a joint checking and savings account at First Mutual on
California Avenue. We also have a safe-deposit box there for the kids' birth
certificates, the house deed, life insurance policies. The usual. And since
I'm the one who usually goes to the box, I also knew that our shiny gold key
didn't look a thing like the silver one that had mysteriously appeared on my
doorstep.
Even so, I decided to try there first. The tellers know me and, for all I
knew, maybe gold keys signified the better boxes. Or maybe the bank had access
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to some sort of booklet that identifies safe-deposit box keys. I wasn't
completely optimistic about this plan, but I figured it was worth ten minutes.
Eleven minutes later, I wasn't so sure. My favorite teller, Nancy, had no
clue, and even the manager on duty couldn't help. "I could make some calls,"
she offered.
I shook my head. "Thanks, but I don't want to be any trouble." Mostly, I just
didn't want to draw too much attention to myself. Not that I was doing
anything illegal, untoward, or even strange. But there was still something
very cloak and dagger about the whole situation.
Nancy handed Timmy a watermelon-flavored Dum-Dum, and we went back the way we
came, my little boy happily sucking on the lollipop. I was trying to remember
what other banks were in the area when I
heard a familiar voice call my name.
I turned around, searching the lobby, and finally saw Cutter rising from a
couch near a sign that read
Loans
. Cutter actually Sean Tyler is my sensei
. That is, he's my martial-arts instructor, training partner, and friend. He
doesn't know my secrets, but he's astute enough to know I have them.
He's also training Allie, Mindy, and Laura, all of whom I want in fighting
shape. To my infinite pride, Allies definitely at the front of that pack. Even
more, she's kept up with the training despite the addition of
cheerleading and a bunch of other extracurriculars to her schedule.
I like to think it's because she's good and wants to stay fit. More
realistically, I think it's because Cutter is a particularly fine-looking male
specimen. And my daughter is fourteen and boy crazy.
I am nothing if not a realist.
As soon as he saw Cutter, Timmy jerked free of my hand and trotted over,
holding out his candy for
Cutter to inspect.
"Looks good," Cutter said.
"You can have some," said my son, displaying just how much he liked my
martial-arts instructor. For
Timmy, the sharing of candy marks the absolute highest level of affection.
"Thanks, kiddo, but I'll pass."
Timmy looked confused how could anyone say no to a Dum-Dum? then popped the
thing back into his mouth, apparently realizing that since the invitation was
turned down, there was more candy left for him. He sucked hard, his slurping
noises underscoring my conversation.
"What are you doing here on a Saturday?" I asked. "Don't you have a class to
teach?"
"Lunch break. My landlord wants to sell, so I either have to buy the dojo or
find a new location." He waved, indicating the loan department. "So here I am,
wasting another lunch hour filling out small-business loan applications."
I made sympathetic and sincere noises. If Cutter moved I was going to be
severely inconvenienced.
His studio was located in a strip mall right at the entrance to our
subdivision, less than five minutes away from my house. Even better, there was
a 7-Eleven right next door, which meant that I could bone up on kip ups and
jump kicks, pick up milk and bread, and be back home in less than the time it
took for Allie to get dressed for school in the morning.
"Anyway," he said, "it's a pain in the butt sorry, rear
," he said, looking at Timmy, who happily yelled out "Baby butt!" just to
embarrass me.
Cutter mouthed an apology, then took Timmy's hand. On the sidewalk, Timmy kept
up with the "Baby
Butt" song, but eventually lost interest, and started pulling leaves off a
decorative shrub instead.
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"I hope you get your loan," I said.
"I will. I just have to find the right bank." He looked at me sideways. "Sort
of like you."
I reached out and grabbed the back of Timmy's shirt before he could launch
himself off the sidewalk.
"Not following you," I said to Cutter.
He took Tim from me and hoisted him up to his shoulders. Timmy yelped and
squealed and pulled at
Cutter's hair. No pain registered on Cutter's face, proving once again that
the military training he listed on his bio was absolutely true.
"I overheard you in there," he said, taking off his sunglasses and tucking
them into a pocket before Timmy destroyed them. "What's the deal? You're
trying to find a bank to match your safe-deposit box key?"
"Something like that," I admitted.
"Because people are always trying to match up mysterious keys," he said.
"Cutter& "
He held his hands out, surrender-style. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
"Actually, I can," I said, but with a grin. The truth is I trust Cutter. Not
enough to tell him about my secret identity, of course, but I do trust the
man. For one thing, he's known from the first day I showed up in his dojo and
pretty much beat the pants off of him that I wasn't what I seemed. He'd
questioned, but he'd never pushed. And, honestly, that had meant as much to me
as the training he'd given me over the past few months.
He flashed a trademark Cutter grin, then leaned in close to my ear. "One day,
Kate Connor," he whispered, his voice flowing over me like warm honey. "One
day you're going to tell me your secrets."
"You're probably right," I said, lowering my voice to match his. "But today's
not the day."
I stepped back, and looked at him. Our eyes locked, and for just a second, I
thought that he was going to push the point. Then he blinked. The moment
faded, and I let out a sigh of relief. I'd meant what I said.
Someday, yes. But not now.
"So I'll see you at practice?" he asked.
"I think so. But a few things have come up lately, and my schedule is crazy."
That, at least, was the absolute truth.
"Fair enough, but are you still interested in finding another sparring
partner?" A few weeks ago, we'd talked about finding me someone else to spar
with. Someone whose moves I hadn't started to anticipate.
"Of course I am. Why?"
"I may have someone. New guy. Seems pretty competent. I'll give him the
once-over, and if he passes muster, I'll give you a call."
"All right." I held my arms up, signaling for him to pass me my kid. "We need
to get going. I'm late for my secret mission."
"You're a riot, Kate. You know that, right?" He swung Timmy to the ground,
then held out his hand. "Let me just see the damn thing."
"Damn's a bad word," said Timmy helpfully, as I reached my free hand into my
back pocket and pulled the key out. I passed it to him, and he studied it,
then passed it back.
"What do I get if I can tell you what bank it's from?"
"
Can you tell me what bank it's from?"
"Maybe."
"You'd get my deep admiration and devotion."
"I already have that."
"Oh, right," I said. "Okay, how about a blind date with a single PTA mom?" I
could think of three or four who'd leapfrog over each other for the chance to
go out with Cutter.
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