Cat Pay The Devil

29

T he house was silent around Greeley, no sound from the dark upstairs rooms. Probably Lilly was asleep, but he waited a while longer to make sure-he’d waited long enough for her to stop knitting and go to bed, he guessed a few minutes more wouldn’t matter. He’d conned her into letting him stay overnight, but she hadn’t shown no hospitality; hadn’t offered one of the upstairs rooms, which were likely bigger.

Well, this downstairs cubbyhole suited him better, farther away from her room. Having spotted the safe earlier as those two cats prowled the basement, he meant to start there. Finesse open the safe, and that was likely where he’d hit pay dirt. If that turned up empty, he’d have to plow through that whole damn basement full of junk, and maybe the rest of the house, too. He wondered if she was one of them early risers, up before daylight. He hoped to hell not. The time now was just after one.

He wondered if Lilly knew where the stash was. Not likely. He’d never known Cage to tell her nothing.

Well, he’d find them trinkets before she was out of bed, he had to. Find them, and be out of there before first light. And the old man’s face brightened in an evil smile. Maybe he’d leave her a note, thank her all proper for her hospitality.

He had one more little drink, from the bottle he’d brought in his coat pocket, waited a few minutes more, listening to the silence of the house, then, swinging off the bed, he opened the door without a sound, and slipped out.

It was eleven thirty when Clyde pulled off the narrow dirt road onto the soft shoulder below the Pamillon estate, to make room for a police car coming down. Above them in the blackness, flashlight beams glanced across broken walls and twisted trees in a surreal tangle; they could see cops moving about, and half a dozen people gathered where the lights were concentrated and still. They passed the Greenlaws’ car parked off to the side, just after the ambulance went by, and they stopped, Clyde grabbing Joe before he could drop out the window.

Lucinda looked out the driver’s window at Clyde. “Wilma’s up there somewhere. She’s safe. And the cats-we brought Kit and Dulcie, they would have taken off up the hills by themselves…I never could have locked them inside, any more than I could lock a person in. You know how hardheaded they are…”

“But so much has gone on,” Pedric said. “We don’t dare go up there and be in the way. All we can do is sit and worry. It’s been mighty hard to hear gunshots, when the cats are up there…” Joe Grey stood up again with his paws on the window. “They’ll be among the rocks somewhere, hiding,” he said softly. He hoped to hell they were.

Lucinda reached across and touched Joe’s cheek, then Clyde pulled away, heading on up, studying the turmoil of flashing torches, trying to make sense of what was happening. Joe rode with his paws on the door, ready to leap out.

Clyde gave him a look, and restrained the tomcat by the nape of the neck as he parked behind a row of squad cars. “Let’s take a little time here.” Killing the engine, his hand tightening on Joe, he sat scanning the blackness as Joe hissed, and pawed to get free. “Just stay still a minute and look,” Clyde said. “There, on that nearest wall.” Above them, surrounded by twisted oaks and picked out by the flashing lights, five cats prowled along the wall, were lost, and then silhouetted again against the night sky.

“Dulcie and Kit?” Clyde said.

Joe nodded, twitching his ears with relief.

“And the other three? The ferals?” Clyde said with amazement. “What other cats could it be? But they…those wild creatures wouldn’t stay there, with all that’s going on!”

“Let me loose, Clyde, before I hurt you. The excitement’s over, someone’s coming down with a prisoner. Let me go!” They watched a squad car approach. “Look, there in the back…”

The squad car passed them, two officers in front, a thin man in the back, behind the security screen, sitting rigidly, as if shackled.

“Eddie Sears?” Clyde said, smiling. “But where-”

“Let me out now.” Joe twisted around, lifting an armored paw.

Clyde freed him and Joe was gone, leaping down, racing through the night to Dulcie.

Clyde looked after him, sighing. He remained in the car until three more police units passed, heading for the village. He watched two riders come out of the woods, breathing with relief when he saw Charlie. But where was Wilma? Was she safe? A cold hand touched his heart. Snatching the keys out of the ignition, leaving the windows down for Joe to get in, he hurried up the dark little road trying to look everywhere at once, watching for any eruption of violence. He was passing the last squad car when Wilma’s voice spun him around. “Clyde?”

She opened the door and stepped out, and the next minutes were a tangle of hugs and both of them talking at once; but then suddenly Wilma was shivering and had to sit down again. Sliding into the backseat she moved over to make room for him. “I guess it’s catching up with me.” Her hands in his were cold.

“I’d guess it would catch up with you. What did Cage…?”

Wilma looked at him. “It’ll take a while to tell. Charlie shot him. She shot Cage. She’s shaky, too. Pretty upset.”

Clyde held her hands. “I guess this will take a lot of telling. Have you had anything to eat?”

“Coffee, and a sweet roll Brennan gave me. Before that…Breakfast in Gilroy around eight this morning.”

“You need a rare steak and a drink.”

“I’d kill for exactly that. But where’s Joe! You went to Gilroy…Where’s Joe Grey?”

Clyde pointed up to the wall, where six silhouettes lingered, two of them sitting close together, Joe’s white markings bright in the flashing lights.

Wilma laughed, and relaxed. “Those other cats are the ferals. That, too, will take a bit of telling. You won’t believe what they did. I hardly believe it.”

“You need to eat. Tell me over dinner. You don’t need to hang around? Let me go up and see Charlie, then we’ll get you a steak.”

From atop the broken wall the six cats watched Clyde step out of the squad car and head up to where Charlie stood, safe in Max’s arms. Cotton was worn out; the white tom had never pursued the kind of madness he had tonight. Approaching the village, he’d been scared out of his skin, and he still wasn’t sure why he’d done it. But now that it was over, he was proud he’d found the courage. Now, he wanted only to sleep.

Willow looked at Cotton stretched out limply along the stone wall, and wanted to snuggle down with him. Until tonight she hadn’t known which of the two tomcats she favored; she thought she loved them both. But now she knew. Cotton was brave and staunch, Cotton made her heart race.

Coyote might be more dashing and handsome; certainly he would have no trouble finding his own lady. Maybe among their own ten, or maybe he’d slip back to their old clowder and lure away one of the discontented young queens. Coyote was her friend, they would always be close, but Cotton was her chosen.

Coyote watched her, and knew. He felt sad and a little lonely. Felt shy beside them now-but he was often shy. He looked away to the high boulders where the others of their small group were hidden, then lifted his nose to look south. Some miles away, their old clowder might still be ranging. He thought about the young queens there, and he wondered, and his green eyes lit up with speculation.

Joe Grey and Dulcie and Kit glanced sideways, watching the little scene, and they smiled. Dulcie and Kit felt sad for Coyote, but Joe knew the challenge that gripped the striped, long-eared tom. The hunt was everything, the hunt for game, the hunt for a mate. And, in Joe’s life, the keen and wily search for human prey, the hunt that drove him ever more powerfully. He glanced at Dulcie and twitched a whisker. The hunt that absorbed them both, a hunt no other cat in the world but the three of them would understand or care about.

Looking up the hill, they watched Clyde hug Ryan and hold her for a moment as they talked, then Clyde sat down on a fragment of broken wall beside Charlie, who was wolfing down coffee and a sandwich. There was some laughter, a few tears, and a lot of hugging. But then at last Clyde rose and headed back for his car.

Wilma stepped out of the squad car and stood with Clyde beside the Lexus, looking up at the cats. At once, Dulcie tensed to leap down. With a lick at the ferals’ ears and a nudge of noses, a special nuzzle for Cotton by way of a thank-you, Dulcie dropped from the wall and streaked for the road where Clyde and Wilma stood waiting. Joe followed close on her heels. Behind them Kit made her own farewells, then raced for Lucinda and Pedric.

Parting from the wild band was hard for Kit-but she’d already made her choice many months ago about how she wanted to live her life. In her deepest heart, she’d already left their wild ways-she did not want to change her own life, she wished only to see them sometimes, here among the ruins. If they remained here. With a wild band, who knew where they would go? She could only wish them well, wish them happiness. Nuzzling each cat, she spun around and raced away following Dulcie and Joe, her little cat heart hurting, but not regretting.

From the top floor of the Pamillon mansion, from the old nursery, Violet Sears had stood for some time watching the scene below. She felt sick when Charlie shot Cage. She knew he deserved it, but he was still her brother. She watched Eddie run, and saw those cats leap on him. That had shocked and deeply frightened her.

She had watched the police clean up Eddie’s wounds and force him into a squad car, and she didn’t know how she felt about his arrest. Maybe she felt nothing.

Eddie would be in jail now. For a little while, she was free of him. She shivered at the thought that she was on her own; she didn’t know what to do about that. How would she live? Where would she live? There had always been someone else to decide about her life. Their parents. Lilly and Cage. And then Eddie. She thought that woman, Wilma, wouldn’t really help her. She stood watching the dark scene before her, shivering and afraid.

Watching Clyde step out of the squad car and head up in her direction, Charlie had suddenly and inexplicably found herself crying. Pressing her face into Max’s shoulder, when he turned back to her after briefing Brennan and a handful of other officers, she felt weak and shaky-but she was safe now, safe in Max’s arms. He held her away from him and wiped her tears. She looked up at him, ashamed of her weakness, embarrassed at crying in front of his men. He handed her a paper bag.

“Hunger’ll take all the starch out. Here’s Brennan’s lunch. Roast beef and coffee and you’ll be yourself again.”

“I can’t take his lunch, he…” Knowing how Brennan loved his meals made her tear up all over again.

Max laughed. “He kept one sandwich of the three, and a slice of cherry pie. He gave his coffee roll to Wilma.”

Charlie glanced across at Brennan and blew him a kiss. The portly officer looked embarrassed, grinned at her, and turned away. She had sat down on the remnants of a tumbled stone wall and was wolfing down the second of the sandwiches and slurping hot coffee, nearly scalding her mouth, when Clyde sat down beside her.

“Glad you got out of that.”

She nodded, her mouth full.

Clyde laughed. “Wilma’s pretty hungry, too. I’m taking her for a steak. Want to come?”

She swallowed. “Going to ride back with Max, take the horses back. I think Ryan’s going with Dallas, her truck is at our place.”

He nodded. “How did the snitch know where you were?” he said softly. “She called Max, but how did she know?”

“The white cat, Clyde. That feral cat. He…Against all odds, that wild little animal went down into the village. Went to Kit for help. Dulcie was there at the Greenlaws’ with Kit, and it was Dulcie who called.”

Clyde shook his head. “Seems impossible.”

“But then,” she said, “the other two ferals…all three of them and Dulcie and Kit chewed my ropes. They had me almost loose when Wilma found me.” She swallowed the last of the sandwich, washed it down with more coffee. “And there’s a lot that we don’t know yet, that Dulcie and Kit will tell us. But you…You and Joe…”

“Same thing,” Clyde said, grinning. “A lot to tell. Too much for now, Wilma’s starving.” He hugged her and rose, stood a moment with his hand on her shoulder. “She’s pretty upset that Jones dragged you into whatever he wanted from her.”

“She doesn’t know what he wanted?”

“Not a clue.” He leaned down to hug her again. “Have a good ride home.”

She watched him stop to talk with Ryan and make a date with her for the next night, then head down to fetch Wilma.

“Where’d the sandwiches go?” Max said, coming to join her, looking at the wadded-up paper bag. “I was gone no more than three minutes.”

Charlie laughed.

“That hold you until we get home? Take about an hour. You’ve had a long day, you feel up to the ride?”

“Oh yes. Can you do that, can you leave, with…?”

“Dallas is here. Prisoners are secured. Wilma’s safe, with Clyde. We’ll take her statement in the morning. Right now, I think it’s time for me to take your statement.”

Flushing, she moved away to the horses. Leaving Max to wrap up a few details, she stood with Ryan, leaning against her mare. “You found me gone, and you called Max.”

Ryan nodded and put her arm around her.

Charlie said, “Guess I owe you supper.”

“Guess you do,” Ryan said. “If you two take the horses back, I’ll never see that potato salad and roast beef you had laid out.”

“Guess I can make more potato salad,” Charlie said, hugging her back, and as Max turned to join them, she tightened Redwing’s cinch and mounted up.