The Big Kitty by Claire Donally Page B

sitting in the cheap seats,
she thought, rolling back in her office chair.
This thing is barely one step up from the antique in Ken’s office.
    Sunny shifted in her chair. Fat chance that Ollie the Barnacle would shell out to upgrade the office furniture, especially after he’d just chewed her out for conspiring to damage local tourism.
    Well, he’ll see I did my best to fill the coffers today,
she thought as she locked up the office, stepped over to her trusty Mustang, and started the engine.
    Sunny suddenly bit her lip. That was a lot of money in the cash box—more than she’d ever left in the office. Shelooked along the street, at the deepening evening shadows. Most of the businesses had already closed up. This wasn’t like New York, where merchants pulled down metal shutters or gates. There was just an expanse of plate glass, a cheap drawer lock, and an antiquated lockbox between anybody out here and the money she’d collected today.
    You’re being silly,
she scolded herself,
but it would be just my luck that tonight would be the night somebody tried something.
She left her car running and went back to the office, opened the door, unlocked her desk, scooped up the cash box, and headed back outside.
    As she did, her car gave a loud
BANG!
She could see it shake for a second.
    Wonderful—a backfire. Maybe she shouldn’t try to stretch her dollars by buying cheap gas.
    She went to open her car door again and stopped. Something was wrong with the steering wheel—or rather, with the plastic sheathing on the steering column. A good chunk was torn out of it.
    Then she dragged her eyes from the damage inside to the damage to the top of her windshield—a spiderweb of cracks centering on a small, round hole.
    A bullet hole.

7
    Sunny didn’t know how long she just stood there, staring with her mouth hanging open. The sound of a car pulling up behind her finally snapped her out of her trance.
    She whirled around to see a midnight blue patrol car, the words “Kittery Harbor Police” in gold on the front doors. No flashing lights on top. And behind the wheel, grim faced as usual, was Constable Will Price.
    “Why should I not be surprised to find you?” he said, getting out of the car. “Zack Judson called from his store, reporting a gunshot. Dispatch thought it was probably a backfire, but they sent me by to check things out.”
    Will’s stern demeanor melted a little as he looked at her more closely. “Hey—Sunny? Are you all right?”
    Sunny wordlessly pointed at the inside of her car and the windshield.
    The constable did a double take when he spotted the bullet hole. But then he was back to business as usual.
    He took Sunny’s arm, almost dragging her over to Judson’s Market two stores away. At the same time, he spoke rapidly into the microphone attached to his blue uniform, radioing for backup.
    The next few minutes got pretty exciting as another blue town patrol car and two white cruisers from the sheriff’s department came flying up, sirens blaring. The area filled with uniformed officers, redirecting traffic away from Sunny’s car and trying to shoo away the onlookers who began to congregate.
    Will had already pulled his car away from Sunny’s. Now he pointed to her Mustang, talking to one of the deputies who seemed to be in charge. “Looks like something went off in there. The angle’s all wrong for a bullet fired from the outside.”
    “Some kind of booby trap?” The deputy, a tall, lanky guy in a forest green uniform, frowned unhappily.
    “Yeah—and we don’t know what else might be in there.” Will took the lead, approaching Sunny’s car with a large flashlight. “There’s something down by the gas pedal.”
    Sunny held her breath as he craned his neck, trying for a better look. “I think the panel is off the fuse box, and there’s some kind of gizmo attached. I see wires—”
    “You going in?” The lanky deputy swallowed audibly. Sunny saw his prominent Adam’s apple bob up and