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nearby during the entire ritual, he asked her to hold the lug nuts. He couldn’t help but notice that when he asked for them back, she dropped them one at a time into his hand rather than risk touching him.
    When she handed him the last lug nut, he made a point of brushing her hand with his. Was it his imagination, or had he actually seen a spark flare between their two hands in the darkness? He heard her sharp intake of breath.
    “Keep your mind on business,” he murmured to himself.
    “What?” Tess said.
    “All finished.” He gave the last nut one final twist with the lug wrench. The wrench slipped, and he banged his hand against the rough road surface, scraping his knuckles raw. In deference to Tess, the string of curses that spouted from his mouth were only mildly obscene.
    “Oh, are you okay?”
    “I’ll live.” He stuck his injured hand under his arm and squeezed his eyes closed until the pain subsided a bit. How many tires had he changed in his life? he wondered. And he’d never hurt himself before.
    Hell, the damn panther statue was giving
him
the willies.
    Since Tess still seemed to want to help, he let herratchet the jack down while he wrestled the flat tire into the trunk. In a couple of minutes they were back on the road. They stopped at the first service station they came to for a shot of air into the spare, then continued on their way.
    “My place is a lot closer than yours,” he said as casually as he dared. “It’s been a long, miserable day, and I’ve got a good bottle of brandy tucked away for just such an occasion. What do you say we stop there and warm up a little before I take you back to your place?”
    “I really need to go home,” she said. Her voice held just enough hesitation that he persisted.
    “But what about the cat?” He knew she would feel guilty sticking him with it. “Maybe we should stop at the nearest bridge and drop it off.”
    Tess shook her head. “Won’t work. It’s been tried.” She glanced over quickly at him to see if he’d caught the significance of her revelation.
    He had. “You know this cat, then? You don’t just hate cats in general?”
    She sighed. “Can’t you just take me home?”
    He had her now. “
I’m
the one who plunked down fifty bucks for the cat and lobbed it into my trunk. It’s mine now. The least you could do is tell me about it. Explain what I’m up against.”
    Again she sighed. “Okay. Did you say something about brandy?”
    He suppressed a smile of satisfaction. Once he got Tess going about this bad-luck statue, the conversationwould naturally segue into her past as Moonbeam. Perfect.
    He felt only a small stab of guilt at manipulating her with this superstition nonsense. Maybe when all was said and done, he would do her a favor by convincing her that superstitions weren’t legitimate. After all, it couldn’t be much fun to live with this kind of fear all the time.
    Nate lucked out and found a parking spot within half a block of his apartment house. After he and Tess had gotten out of the car and he’d locked the doors, he headed for the trunk.
    “No!” Tess cried. “Leave it where it is. For God’s sake, don’t bring the thing into your home.”
    “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he said. “The less we handle it, the better. Right?”
    “I would think so.”
    Nate was more and more intrigued. He couldn’t wait to get her talking.
    As he unlocked his front door at the top of the stairs, he felt a sudden reluctance to allow Tess inside. He was such a … bachelor. Earlier, at Judy’s place, he’d been congratulating himself for knowing how to load a dishwasher. But how long had it been since he’d tidied up his own place? A couple of weeks?
    With a shrug he ushered her inside and flipped on a light. Could be worse, he decided. A couple of empty pizza boxes, a beer can or two, some unopened junk mail, and wilted plants. Besides that, everything was basically clean. He sat Tess down on his pride-and-joy leather