Catch as Cat Can

11

The air outside the car seemed even colder after the warm good night kiss. And the sleet had turned sloppy, more like icy mush flying into Sunny’s face as she hung onto her hood. She turned back and knocked on the window. Will brought it down. “Forget something?” he asked.

“Just that I want you to call when you get home,” Sunny told him. “It’s getting worse even quicker than we thought, and I want to be sure that you get back safely.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Okay, Mom.” Then, belatedly remembering what had happened to Sunny’s mother, he said, “Sorry. I’ll call. Promise.”

Sunny leaned in through the window for another kiss, then stepped back, waving, as Will drove off. She turned and made her way up a driveway that seemed to get slicker with every step until she reached the front door. Fumbling with the key, Sunny got the door open and stepped inside, stamping heavily to remove the slush sticking to her boots.

Shadow arrived in the middle of her ice removal dance. Sunny noticed that he didn’t do his usual circle and sniff routine, avoiding the melting glop sinking into the bristly fabric of the foul-weather rug they kept near the door. He waited until he had her boots off, intercepting Sunny as she headed for the arched entrance to the living room. Even then, he kept his inspection brief, wrinkling his nose at the cold that clung to Sunny’s legs after her short trip through the storm.

Sunny poked her head into the room to find her father dozing in front of a reality TV show he wouldn’t have tolerated if he’d been fully awake.

“Hey, Dad,” Sunny called.

Mike woke up, smiled at her, frowned at the TV, and then used the remote to turn the program off. “A boring night,” he announced. “I hope you had a better time.”

“I wouldn’t score it high for romance,” Sunny told him. “Val Overton came with, and she dragged Ollie along as her date.”

“That could have been entertaining.” Mike sat up straighter and stretched. “Did she chase him very hard? Did Ollie let himself get caught?”

“Mainly Will and Val picked Ollie’s brains about the local fish business and the situation in the market over in Portsmouth.”

Mike laughed. “Oh, boy. Lots of love stuff.” He paused as the wind suddenly picked up, flinging semisolid sleet against the window. “Sounds as though you got home just in time.”

Sunny nodded, dropping into a chair. “I asked Will to call when he gets in. Maybe I’m being too much on the nannyish side—”

Mike shook his head. “No. Not with this kind of weather.”

She rose and went to give her dad a hug. His arms went around her, and they stood together for a moment, not speaking.

The moment was broken as Shadow jumped up onto the couch, leaning into the hug as well.

Mike cleared his throat, and Sunny laughed, leaning down to pet the cat. “You didn’t want to be left out, did you?”

Reaching out carefully, Mike stroked Shadow’s fur, too. “I think your mom would have liked the little guy.”

“Right,” Sunny said. “Until he tried to walk along the keyboard of her piano.”

“Hey,” Mike spoke up in defense, “she barely let me touch that thing.”

They smiled at the happier memory. Then the phone rang.

“Safely arrived,” Will reported. “Although I don’t know how long I’ll be here. The weather forecast is getting rougher, and there’s a good chance the sheriff will call everybody in while they can still get to headquarters.” He paused for a second. “But I didn’t want you to worry.”

“No problems,” Sunny told him. “And look on the bright side. Overtime.”

“Yeah. When I get a day off again, we’ll have a nice evening out somewhere—without any tagalongs.” Will sighed. “Till then . . .”

“I know.” Sunny was silent for a moment. “Be careful out there, and good luck.”

They said good-bye, and she hung up the phone. When she turned to Mike, he was struggling to contain a mighty yawn. “Overtime?” he said. “Is he going out in this weather?”

“Not yet,” Sunny said. “But he expects to be called.” She put a hand over her mouth as she yawned, too. “Nothing much we can do about it. I vote for B-E-D.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Mike got up from the couch and stretched. Then they headed up the stairs, with Shadow trailing behind them.

*

Patrolling the house in the dark, Shadow pricked his ears. He knew it was just the wind outside, but it howled like some huge, angry beast. And the stuff from the skies rattled against the walls as if that beast were scratching at them, trying to get in.

He trotted over to the stairway and began leaping up the steps two at a time, trying to work off his unease. Upstairs, he made his way down the hall to Sunny’s room.

Might as well check things out, he thought, easing his way through the slightly open door.

Sunny lay on her side, unconsciously hunched up against the noises from outside. Shadow lightly jumped up onto the bed and daintily made his way over the hills and valleys of the covers to where Sunny’s head rested on the pillow. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed evenly. Fast asleep. Outside, the howl rose in intensity. Shadow shot a worried glance at the window. But it was closed, and it wasn’t too cold in here.

He could feel the warmth rising from Sunny’s body, and carefully edged his way under the covers to share it. Shadow crept into her arms. Even in her sleep, Sunny made a pleased noise and ran her fingers over his fur.

Shadow snuggled closer. Well, if it makes her feel better . . .

The howling outside seemed to fade a bit as he closed his eyes.

*

Sunny opened her eyes, surprised to hear a faint mew as Shadow stirred beside her. “What are you doing here?” she asked him as he pushed his head against her, looking for a scratch between the ears. Sunny obliged, but she frowned. On a good day, she could manage to get her eyes open just before the alarm went off. She’d gotten to bed early last night, so maybe she was up a little earlier than usual. But dim as her room was, it was brighter than her normal wake-up hour. She looked at the clock-radio—no digital display.

Rising from bed, she shivered as she got her cell phone from the bedside table. An hour past her usual time. She tried the lamp—nothing. Sunny walked to the window, finding the air even colder the closer she came. And there really wasn’t a view. Flying ice had frozen in place, creating a sort of pebbled glass effect.

She went to the closet, got out her heaviest robe, and headed downstairs. The house was definitely chillier than usual, but as she reached the front hall, she heard voices in the kitchen. Sunny paused for a second, getting a brief head-butt in the back of her right calf. Shadow was sticking pretty close to her this morning.

After a moment, Sunny realized it was the news radio station and walked in just as the kettle began to wail. Mike rose from his seat at the table, took the kettle, and poured the boiling water into a teapot. “No coffee maker this morning,” he said. “The power’s out.”

He pointed to the old transistor radio on the table. “Lucky we still have that around, and plenty of batteries. Matches, too, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to light the burner.”

Sunny stepped over to the kitchen door. This side of the house must have been sheltered from the wind, because she could see through the glass storm door. The backyard had been transformed into a winter wonderland, gleaming even in the dull light thanks to a coating of ice on everything: bushes, tree trunks, the patio fence—even a couple of holdout leaves glittered in the glaze.

It was as if everything in the world had been carefully preserved under glass . . . except for the tree limb that had broken off and landed on the ground.

That, and probably hundreds more, Sunny thought, turning back to the table and taking a seat. A moment later, she had a steaming cup of tea in front of her and had woken up enough to make sense of the reports coming from the radio. Foreign wars, politics, and pestilence were all shoved to the back of the line this morning, as the news anchors talked about car accidents and local power outages.

“You don’t have to worry about work,” Mike told her. “The sheriff’s told everybody to stay in because basically there’s nowhere to go. They’re still trying to clear the bridges to Portsmouth and the interstate. Any of the other local roads are either skating ponds or have downed trees across them.” He glanced over at her. “Looks like we’re in for a siege.”

He rose and went back to the stove. Sunny realized he’d replaced the kettle with a pot of water. “Looks like oatmeal instead of toast today—unless you figure on grilling the bread outside on the barbecue.”

Sunny shuddered, looking at the frozen landscape. “Oatmeal sounds fine to me. Nice, warm oatmeal.”

They spent the day hunkered down, reading as the clouds cleared away and the light got better. Shadow was in his glory, enjoying an unexpected play day with Sunny. Apparently his nighttime nap left him bursting with energy, which he used to race around the house, flying into Sunny’s lap and in numerous vigorous games of Pounce on the String.

The landline telephones worked, and Mike insisted on calling Helena Martinson.

Sure, Sunny thought, it’s the Kittery Harbor Way. And she is his girlfriend or whatever.

After a low-toned conversation with Helena, Mike turned to Sunny. “Abby would like to speak to you.”

Helena’s daughter seemed in a pretty good mood. “Now I really remember why I moved to California,” she joked. “We were on the phone with the power company. Mom spotted a downed line from our upstairs window. And thank heavens you guys called. Mom was about to dispatch me over there to make sure you were all right. It wouldn’t have been too bad getting down our driveway—Mom had me salting that last night. But the rest of the way, I’d have to see if I still fit into my high school ice skates.”

Sunny felt a pang of guilt, remembering how Mike had urged her to go out and enjoy herself the night before.

At least he wasn’t lugging around bags of ice melt, she thought.

“How are you guys fixed for supplies?” she asked.

“We also did an end-of-the-world shopping expedition before the weather got too bad—and the stores got too crazy,” Abby said. “So if you need anything, we probably have a couple weeks’ supply of it. Afterward we crashed. Talk about an exciting night.” She paused for a moment. “Mom mentioned you were going out.” Abby sounded a little wistful. “How was it?”

“Fine, if you don’t mind having your boss tag along.” Sunny cut herself off there. Yes, she was annoyed that her father had gossiped about her evening with Will. On the other hand, Abby had a boss she definitely didn’t mind going out with. “I guess it was all right, but getting home was sloppy and it was beginning to get dangerous.” She sighed. “And speaking of salting, I guess I have to go out and play catch-up now.”

She gave the phone back to Mike, bundled up, and headed for the kitchen door. Shadow accompanied her that far. He put a curious paw down on the ice-covered ground, slid a little, and pulled himself back inside. As Sunny stepped out, she was aware of him giving her that odd look he usually reserved for watching humans do something he apparently regarded as foolish.

Maybe he’s right, Sunny thought as she skidded her way to the garage. She was really glad Mike hadn’t tried this. If I fall, there’s a chance I might bounce, she thought. I’m afraid Dad might break something.

It was a surprising amount of work, making progress with baby steps, and her thighs began to hurt by the time she reached the garage. Sunny got the door open and rooted around for the sacks of ice melt Mike always kept on hand. After all, he used to deliver the stuff all over the Northeast. He’d consider it a professional embarrassment if he didn’t have a generous supply ready to go.

She found an open sack and began spreading the granules in front of the garage door. Then she went to dig out the metal scraper with the long handle. It was tedious, tiresome work, especially out in the cold. Mike made her take several breaks to come in and have a cup of hot chocolate. He might not be able to do the job himself anymore, but he wanted to make sure Sunny was well fueled.

The light was beginning the fade by the time she finished, but Sunny managed to clear a path from the door to both trucks in the driveway, and then a wider passage to let the vehicles get to the road.

Not that we’ll be driving soon, she thought. Wild Goose Drive is a sheet of ice.

They made supper by the light of two LED lanterns that Mike had picked up. “We’ll save the candles until we really need them,” he said.

The meal was simple: canned soup heated up on the top burner and thick sandwiches. They couldn’t cook anything on the stove, and Sunny was afraid that without power, the refrigerator wouldn’t keep the cold cuts fresh.

Shadow had his usual canned food and fresh water, but he kept turning from his bowls to regard the two lanterns up on the kitchen table.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sunny warned him.

She and Mike each took a light into the living room, where they also took the radio to hear how the recovery process was going. CMP had managed to restore power to a lot of folks nearby, so Mike rose and switched on one of the living room lamps. It stayed dark.

“But if it goes on, we’ll know we’re back in business,” he said.

They sat for a while, talking in the dim light. Sunny played a few more games with Shadow and kept him from trying to play with the lanterns glowing on the coffee table.

She was just about to suggest that they turn in when the lamp that Mike had turned on suddenly popped to life. Sunny blinked—the lamp’s bulb was a heck of a lot brighter than the LEDs.

Mike went to the window, looking out at the street. Light began to appear in the windows of the houses across the way. “Yep, they noticed,” he said. Then he frowned. “And here comes a damned fool.”

A vehicle made its way slowly along the dark, deserted street. At first, Sunny couldn’t even make it out. All she saw were headlights. It was a dark car, no, a pickup truck that skidded to a halt at the bottom of the driveway. When the driver opened his door, the dome light revealed Will Price’s features.

“Well, maybe not such a fool,” Mike said.

“What would bring him up here?” Sunny went back to the kitchen to open the door.

Will came slowly up the drive, checking carefully to make sure there was no black ice to slip on. He’d changed his clothes since their date the night before, but he had a day’s growth of beard, and his eyes looked tired.

“Are you okay?” Sunny asked.

“Had about enough time to change into some fouler weather gear before Lenore Nesbit called me in,” Will said. “Then a lot of slow-motion driving to accident scenes and enforcing no-drive restrictions. I was heading off people from using the road to Sturgeon Springs. A whole tree went down, cutting the route completely. Then, after we completed the emergency stuff, we went on a lot of well-being checks. One caught my attention. Charlie Vane’s wife—or almost ex-wife, considering she moved out on him a couple of months ago—called that he wasn’t answering his phone. We checked with the son, he hadn’t heard from his father, and his car was out of commission since before the storm. The Vane place is on the edge of town, so I said I’d stop by on my way back in.”

He reported all this in his usual cop voice, but Sunny caught an undertone that she didn’t like. “Something happened to Charlie Vane?”

Will nodded. “Three gunshots. Recently dead. And, as if that wasn’t enough, the place was like an arsenal, enough rifles and pistols around to outfit an army—or at least a platoon. Let’s just say, a lot more than for personal use, unless personal use involved starting a war. And he had all new locks—the place was like a fortress.”

He tried to joke, but his expression remained grim. “Looks as though he went from playing Pirates of the Caribbean to the Alamo.”