Six Cats A Slayin'

SEVEN

“She’s certainly not going to buy this house.” I crumpled the flyer with both hands before discarding it in the trash bin under the sink. Having done so, I shut the cabinet door a little more forcefully than necessary. I wasn’t sure why the flyer made me angry, but that was how I felt.

Diesel, evidently alarmed by my tone, sat up and began to meow. I called him to me and began to stroke his back when he stopped and leaned against my legs. Dante was in Stewart’s lap, whining because he wanted to play with the cat. Stewart kept him firmly in place.

“Everything’s all right, boy.” I had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself, and Diesel relaxed under my touch.

“No doubt it’s standard business practice with her,” Helen Louise said. “Although she seems to have come out of nowhere. I certainly hadn’t heard of her or her real estate business before.”

“I hadn’t, either,” Stewart said, and Haskell shrugged. “Not something I pay much attention to,” he said.

“I wonder where the money is coming from.” I resumed my seat at the table, and the cat settled down by my legs. “Surely it takes substantial capital to go around buying houses. What if several people all want to sell at the same time? That would run into hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

“She either has amazingly good credit,” Helen Louise said, “or she has big cash reserves.”

“Or someone putting up the money for her,” Stewart said. “It’s strange that no one seems to know where she came from. She basically popped up like a mushroom after a good long rain.”

“She’s definitely an enigma.” I shrugged.

Stewart laughed. “I’m looking forward to this Christmas bash of hers even more now. No telling what might happen.”

As if they had heard Stewart’s last few words and considered them an invitation, the five kittens came running and tumbling into the kitchen. Ramses was in the lead, and George brought up the rear. Diesel jumped up from beside my legs and darted toward the playful youngsters. Dante jumped out of his master’s lap, the leash still attached to his collar, before Stewart realized what the dog was doing. The poodle joined the melee on the floor, barking excitedly while Diesel batted at kittens in an attempt to stop their antics. Two of the kittens seized sections of the leash in their mouths and began to chew.

Laughing, Stewart hastened to catch Dante and free the leash from sharp kitten teeth. Haskell and Helen Louise were also laughing as they both got up to help. They grabbed a kitten in each hand, and that left Ramses rolling and scrambling as Diesel continued to bat at him. I scooped up Ramses and brought his face near mine. He purred, and I could have sworn he tried to smile. He certainly looked smug for having led the charge, as it were.

Diesel seemed to sag with relief now that the junior set had been caught, and he stretched out on the floor. The kittens had worn him out.

“What do we do with them now that we’ve caught them?” Helen Louise held up Fred and George and grinned.

“Take them home with you,” I said promptly.

Helen Louise shot me a look that I had no difficulty interpreting. I chuckled. “I guess not.”

Haskell held Marlowe and Bastet close to his chest. “Unless you want them roaming free all night, you’re going to have to put them in a smaller room.”

“You’re right,” I said. “If it weren’t so chilly tonight, I’d put them on the porch, and they could ramble to their hearts’ content.” I thought for a moment. “The downstairs bathroom is too small for all five of them and their beds and litter boxes. I guess I’ll put them in one of the bathrooms upstairs for tonight.”

“Might as well do it now,” Haskell said. “How about the one in Laura’s old room?”

“That bathroom’s fine,” I said. Laura’s former bedroom was closest to mine upstairs.

“Y’all keep the kittens entertained.” Haskell turned over his two little monsters to his partner. “I’ll get the bathroom ready for them.”

Stewart offered to help, but Haskell waved him away. “Won’t take me long.” He left the kitchen.

“He certainly is handy to have around,” Helen Louise said.

“He is,” Stewart said. “He doesn’t mind doing things to help out, though. He likes to keep busy.”

In the brief silence that followed Stewart’s remarks, I heard Haskell trotting up the stairs. He returned to the kitchen in less than ten minutes, I reckoned.

“Everything’s ready,” he said.

I rose from the table. “Thanks for doing that.”

Helen Louise and I got the kittens settled upstairs in their temporary quarters. After I shut the door, we stood in front of it and watched. Two little paws appeared underneath the door.

“Didn’t take them long to find that,” Helen Louise said.

“They’re all a little too smart for their own good, I think.” I turned to lead the way out into the hall. I left the bedroom door open.

“I’m going to head home in a few minutes,” Helen Louise said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Are you working tomorrow?” I asked. “I can’t remember what you told me the other day about your schedule.”

“No, thank goodness, I’m off. Henry is in charge, and he and the others can handle everything,” she said as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Good,” I said. “Any plans?”

“I’m going to sleep late.” She followed me into the empty kitchen. “Then at some point I’m going shopping. I want a new dress for this party. I haven’t bought anything new in ages.”

“You’ll be a knockout no matter what. The belle of the ball.”

She grinned. “That’s the plan.”

I laughed. “Gerry Albritton may have a heart attack on the spot, especially since you’re a good eight inches taller.”

“That’s her lookout, not mine,” Helen Louise retorted.

“Absolutely.” I drew her into my arms for a kiss. After a brief but satisfying interlude, we stepped apart. I glanced around the room. No sign of Diesel.

Helen Louise read my mind. “He’s probably sound asleep on your bed.”

“Probably.” I watched while she gathered her purse and jacket. I held the jacket for her while she pulled it on. We went into the garage from the kitchen and out into the driveway, where she had parked earlier. The streetlights glowed in the early-evening darkness, and I felt the chill from the damp air.

Helen Louise unlocked her car before she turned to give me another quick kiss. “Get back inside. You don’t want to catch a cold.”

“I won’t.” I watched until she backed her car into the street and headed the few blocks to her house.

I started to head into the garage, but a flash of movement in my right peripheral vision stopped me. I turned and headed into the yard. I didn’t see anyone or anything moving now. I halted and stared hard at the shrubbery in the beds on either side of the front door.

I waited. Nothing moved, but I was feeling the cold more every second I delayed going back inside.

Maybe I imagined it. I shrugged and walked to the garage. When I reached the entrance to the garage, I turned to glance one more time in the direction of the front door. Still nothing.

Shrugging, I hit the button to close the garage door as I stepped into the kitchen. The house stood quiet around me. I paused for a moment before walking to the living room to survey the scene. The area the kittens had occupied needed to be cleaned, and I didn’t want to leave it for Azalea in the morning.

After setting the bookshelves upright and out of the way, I swept up the scattered litter and stray kitten hair; then I found one of those lint roller devices to remove more hair from the drapes. While I worked, a thought struck me.

What if I really had seen something or someone moving in the front yard a few minutes ago? Might have been the child who left the kittens on the doorstep. Perhaps I should have investigated further in case the child was still lurking in the shrubbery. I really didn’t think that was likely, however.

Surely the parents wouldn’t let their child run around in the neighborhood after dark without supervision. But I knew there were negligent parents who didn’t keep an eye on their children like they should. I would never have let Sean and Laura run around the neighborhood on their own at night.

I turned off the light in the living room and took the dustpan and broom to the utility room. Azalea would probably find dust or hair I had overlooked, but I had been as meticulous in my cleaning as I knew how. Then I realized that Haskell and Stewart would have the new corral built and in place by the time Azalea returned on Monday morning. The real inspection would take place once the kittens were either returned to their original home or placed in new forever homes.

Upstairs I got undressed and into my nighttime apparel of shorts and a T-shirt. Diesel lay stretched out on his side of the bed, his head on the pillow. He opened his eyes, yawned and stretched, and then appeared to go back to sleep. I climbed in with him, turned out the light, and soon drifted off to sleep.

I woke the next morning to the sound of Diesel warbling loudly from the floor beside the bed. Evidently, I didn’t respond quickly enough, because I felt a large paw on my arm. After a couple of yawns, I pushed aside the covers and sat up on the side of the bed.

“All right, boy, I’m awake.” I looked in the cat’s face. “What’s so urgent?”

He turned and padded to the door.

“Give me a minute,” I said. “Bathroom first, then I’ll follow you.”

Less than two minutes later I trod down the stairs behind him. He headed across the kitchen and into the utility room. He sat beside his litter box and meowed loudly.

“Sorry, I guess I forgot to clean it out yesterday.”

Diesel meowed again.

“I’m on it.” I quickly took care of the litter box, and after that I rinsed out and refilled his water bowl. Then came the dry food and half a can of wet food.

I left him happily munching his breakfast and wandered into the kitchen for coffee. I realized as I glanced at the window over the sink that it was still dark outside. A quick check of the clock on the wall informed me that it was about three minutes shy of five thirty.

After hitting the button to start the coffeemaker—it was set for six thirty every morning—I grabbed a jacket off the rack in the hall and opened the front door. I intended to retrieve the newspaper, and I had the door halfway open before I remembered that today was Saturday. There would be no paper.

About to close the door, I spied a folded piece of paper stuck to it with a tack. I removed the tack and unfolded the note. I immediately recognized the childish scrawl.

They’re gone! I thought you’d take care of them! What did you do with them? Where are they?