A Paw-sible Theory

“For a man to truly understand rejection, he must first be ignored by a cat.”

––Anonymous

CHAPTER THREE: A Likely Suspect

Time isn’t something cats are generally aware of and I don’t know exactly how long we waited before Ethan finally showed up. Just as he took his keys out to unlock the door, Alyx’s best friend and business partner, Maggie Broeck, pulled in the driveway.

Ethan appeared surprised to see her, clenched the keys in a fist, and waited for her to get out of the car, wasting precious time. He didn’t look happy, not necessarily because he didn’t like her, more than likely because when she was around, she tended to side with Alyx, and he usually lost the argument. I know that because I’d comforted him many a time over the unfairness of it all.

I noticed that Maggie, elegantly dressed in beige slacks, a creamy white, silk blouse, and wearing her signature diamond studs, had recently added two more diamonds to her right ear.

Ethan greeted her with his usual grin, and a peck on the cheek, “Hey, Maggie, having breakfast with us?”

“Sure am. Your mother called me last night and asked me to join you. She said she wanted to clear things up, but didn’t say exactly what. She sounded a little mysterious about the whole thing.”

“Maybe it’s about that misunderstanding you two had the other day,” replied Ethan.

“Well, she’d better have a good reason for getting mad at me the way she did, and one breakfast isn’t going to make up for it,” Maggie said, not in a joking manner. “By the way, have you had a chance to speak to her about that matter we discussed?”

“I was going to do that today; I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he said as he inserted the key.

“You can still do that; I’ll just leave before you do. I have some work to do anyway.”

Although communicating with my kind was never a problem, humans used words, and I didn’t have that ability. I only knew two ways to convey my ideas––body movement and meowing, a language developed by the cat to communicate with his human. I tried to express the urgency of the situation by yowling, a sound coming from deep down my throat.

Misty understood immediately and picked up the chorus. Apparently, Ethan didn’t understand. He unlocked the door and squatted to pet me. Frustrated to no end, I tried body language, stiffened and took off, hoping Ethan would follow.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you? Aren’t you glad to see me?” Ethan asked with some unease reflected in his voice.

He called out a greeting to Alyx and when she didn’t answer, he dropped his keys on the bench by the door and instinctively rushed to the kitchen followed by Maggie. When he saw Alyx slumped over the table, he immediately checked for a heartbeat and yelled at Maggie, who was standing right next to him, to call 911. With shaking hands, he grabbed a kitchen towel and applied it to her head wound.

The ambulance arrived shortly after, followed by the Beachside police. I kept my eyes on Ethan who looked helpless while the paramedics took care of Alyx. Detective Smarts introduced himself to Ethan, surreptitiously taking note of his expensive clothes and his new eight hundred dollar watch, but he wasn’t so sly that I didn’t notice what he was doing.

“I understand you’ll want to follow the ambulance to the hospital, but we will need your fingerprints and a statement sometime today,” the detective said.

Ethan nodded absently as the paramedics placed Alyx on a stretcher.

“I’ll appreciate it if you’ll stop by the Osprey Avenue Station at your earliest convenience.”

In a hurry to follow the paramedics to the hospital, Ethan asked Maggie if she could stay and take care of things. The Detective introduced himself to Maggie. “Al Smarts,” he said, not looking at her but in Ethan’s direction.

Ethan searched his pockets for his keys, turned full circle, his eyes darting about until he spotted them where he had dropped them. Smarts openly observed his every move, ignoring Maggie, even though she was talking and gesturing excitedly.

“I’m Maggie Broeck and I just cannot believe what happened here. This is such a quiet neighborhood. Who could have done this to her?”

I sprinted to the front door, and Ethan, keys in hand, saw that his car was blocked and jogged to the ambulance before it peeled out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pooky, my other housemate, quietly disappear into the lush landscaping surrounding the renovated bungalow.

Too distraught to call anyone’s attention to Pooky’s escape or to speculate as to why Smarts had scrutinized Ethan so thoroughly; I pushed it to the back of my mind to think about later.