Six Cats A Slayin'

NINE

I stepped past Melba to get a clear view of the front of the house. “Which side?”

Melba pointed to my left. I stepped onto the lawn and began searching the shrubbery. I continued around the side of the house and into the backyard, but with no results. The child had disappeared.

Melba and Diesel waited for me at the door. “Did you see him?” she asked.

I shook my head, frustrated. “No, not a sign. Come on in.” I stopped to look at the door, having remembered the note I had left there. I was not surprised to see that it was gone, tack and all.

I motioned for Melba to precede me. Once we were all inside I shut the door and led the way into the kitchen. “I made us fresh coffee. Let’s have some, and you can tell me exactly what you saw.”

“All right.” Melba chose a chair while I poured coffee for us. Diesel settled on the floor by her chair. I knew she liked cream and sugar in her coffee, and I set those on the table.

While she stirred her coffee, she said, “It was when I was pulling in to the driveway. I happened to glance over toward the front of the house, and I thought I saw something moving in the shrubs. I stopped the car a moment, and then this head popped up. I blinked, and then it was gone. The kid must have realized I was in the driveway and ducked down.”

“Anything descriptive you can tell me about the head you saw?” I asked.

“Darkish hair on the short side,” Melba said. “Looked like a girl’s cut to me, but I can’t be sure.” She sipped at her coffee. “This is good. Are you going to check for footprints?”

I laughed. “I’m not Sherlock Holmes. What would I do with footprints?”

Melba shrugged. “That’s what they used to do in old mystery movies. You could make a plaster cast.”

“If I had plaster on hand, I could,” I said. “But I’m not in the habit of keeping it in stock.”

“It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to sound so snarky.” Melba scowled at me. “You’re the one who goes around solving mysteries, not me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, penitent. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. It simply struck me as funny. Can you really see me getting down in the dirt in the flower bed, pouring plaster and whatever else you do to get a cast?”

Melba laughed. “Well, no, I reckon not. I bet your knees aren’t any happier than mine doing that kind of thing.”

“No, they’re not.” I grimaced at the thought. “Okay, dark-haired child, probably a girl. Did you get any impression of height or age?”

Melba considered my question while she drank her coffee. She shook her head. “No, not strong enough to be helpful. I didn’t see enough of her to judge. I couldn’t tell whether she was crouching at the window or standing upright.”

“How about the size of the head?” I was grasping for anything that could help identify the child.

“Wasn’t real big, so I’d say a younger kid maybe.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I figure ten years old at the most.” I told her about the note I had put on the door for the child. “She had obviously already taken it down, but if she was looking in the window of the living room, she might not have read the note yet.”

“Does it matter?” Melba said.

“No, I don’t suppose it does. She’ll read it at some point.”

“Have you thought of rigging up a camera there by the living room windows? You could probably get video of the kid and be able to identify her from that,” Melba said.

“I hadn’t really considered it,” I replied, “though I suppose I should think about it. I wouldn’t have a clue how to do it myself.”

“I bet you Frank would know how. Sean might, too. They both know a lot about computers and wiring and things like that.”

“True.” I drained my coffee and set the cup aside. “They’ll both be here at ten to put up Christmas lights on the front of the house.”

Melba got up to refill her cup. “You haven’t done that before. Why’d you decide to do it this year?” She returned to her chair. “Surely not because most of your neighbors do it every year.”

“Certainly not for that reason.” I had never gone in for competitions with neighbors over holiday decorations. “The family suggested it because we used to do it in Houston when Laura and Sean were young. I guess now that they both have children of their own, they want to revive the tradition.”

We finished our coffee, and Diesel and I took Melba up to see the kittens. After half an hour with them, Melba looked like she was ready to adopt all of them. She seemed particularly taken with Ramses. He easily claimed first place in the personality stakes among the five, but the adorability factor stood consistently high. By the time we left the kittens, I think Melba had already begun planning for adoption.

“Until we know where they came from,” I reminded her, “I can’t give them away. I don’t imagine the child will be able to keep any of them, frankly, given the situation, but things could change.”

“I know,” Melba said, “but I’m an optimist.” She gave me a quick hug, and Diesel a rub on the head, at the front door. We watched until she was in her car, and then I stepped back inside and shut the door.

I checked my watch. About three-quarters of an hour before Sean and Frank were due to arrive. Diesel and I spent a few minutes in the living room, watching Haskell and Stewart. They had the mesh on both segments now, and Haskell had begun work on the door. They were making such rapid progress, I knew it wouldn’t be long before we could bring the kittens back downstairs.

Diesel stayed with them to supervise, and I went upstairs to retrieve my book. I had been in a historical-mystery mood lately, and I was revisiting an old friend, Ellis Peters’s medieval monk, Brother Cadfael. I had already reread the first five in the series and was now midway through the sixth, and perhaps my favorite, The Virgin in the Ice.

Back in the den, I settled down with the book. When Sean and Frank arrived, I was deeply immersed in twelfth-century England. I would have preferred not to have been interrupted because I was near the end, so it was with considerable reluctance that I put down the book to go over the design plan one more time with Sean and Frank.

“Everything is in the garage,” I told them after I had once more assured Frank I liked his design. “Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“We can handle it, Dad.” Sean looked tired, but I knew better than to comment on that. Other than asking how Alex and Rosie were doing this morning, I didn’t inquire further.

Frank, after a quick sideways glance at Sean, said, “Laura and little Charlie have gone over there to visit while we’re working here. Laura’s going to help Alex catch up on laundry and a few things like that.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Sean looked away. I gathered from his body language and his silence that he hadn’t made any further headway in getting Alex to agree about hiring a nanny. I felt bad for Sean and Alex, and I prayed that this wasn’t going to cause significant harm to their relationship. Surely Alex would see sense before much longer; otherwise she was going to end up in the hospital.

“I’ll be in the den if you need me.” I left them to get on with it and went back to my book.

Frank found me in the den two hours later, sound asleep on the couch. Once I’d finished the book, I had thought about getting the next one in the series. The couch had felt too comfortable, though, and before long I had dozed off.

Frank grinned as I sat up and blinked at him. “Sorry to disturb you, Charlie, but I want you to have a look at everything before Sean and I pack up and go home.”

“I didn’t mean to nap this long. I’m glad you woke me up. I don’t know why I was so sleepy.” I yawned and got off the couch.

As we passed by the living room, I stuck my head in to see that, while I napped, Haskell and Stewart had finished. There was no sign of them downstairs, and the kittens were now installed in their new corral. They were sleeping, and Diesel kept watch nearby. He chirped softly when he saw me, then went back to his vigil.

I followed Frank outside, and he led me to the street to get the full view. While we waited, Sean flipped the switch to turn on the lights. The effect wasn’t the same, of course, in broad daylight, but I could see that the lights would be beautiful at night. Frank had created a simple forest scene with a few trees topped by stars and the words Merry Christmas strung across them. One star was larger than the rest, and I took it to be the North Star. The lights were set along the wall between the second and third floors.

They had also strung lights over the shrubbery, and I imagined that, in the dark of night, they would twinkle like stardust. Overall a simple but attractive effect, nothing overpowering, unlike what some of my neighbors chose to do.

I turned to Frank and smiled. “Perfect.”

He looked relieved. “You said you wanted simple, not extravagant.”

“That’s what you’ve provided,” I said. “Tasteful and lovely. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Charlie,” he said. “Now, I’d better pack my tools so I can get Sean back to Alex. He’s really worried about her.”

“I am, too,” I said. “I’ve talked to her, but until she’s willing to accept help, I’m not sure what else anyone can do.” We started for the garage, where Sean stood waiting for us.

“Laura was planning to talk to her,” Frank said in an undertone as we neared Sean.

“Thanks for helping with this, son,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

Sean shrugged. “Glad to do it, Dad. Feels good to be outside doing something physical, to tell you the truth. It’s going to seem more like Christmas with the house decorated.”

“Yes, it will. This will be the best Christmas we’ve had in a long time. Having Rosie and Charlie now makes it even more special,” I said.

“I hope so,” Sean said. “Look, I really need to get back home and check on Alex. Are you ready to go, Frank?”

“Soon as we get my tools back in the trunk,” Frank said. “If you’ll put the ladder back in the garage, I’ll pack the rest away.”

Sean nodded, and after thanking them both again, I went back into the house. I decided I might call Laura later this afternoon to find out how things had gone with Alex today.

I heard sounds coming from the direction of the kitchen. I headed there, hoping to find Haskell and Stewart. I wanted to thank them for their hard work and for transporting the kittens downstairs and installing them in their new habitat while I was napping.

Stewart had his head in the fridge, and Haskell occupied his usual place at the table. “There’s some chicken salad left from the other night,” Stewart said over his shoulder. “Oh, hi, Charlie, just foraging for lunch. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” I replied. A glance at the clock informed me that it was almost one. “I was sound asleep in the den until Frank came and woke me up.”

“Are they finished with the lights?” Haskell said.

“Yes, and they’ve done an excellent job,” I replied. “I wanted to thank you both again for building that corral for the kittens and for toting everything back downstairs again. I’m so embarrassed that I slept through it all.”

Haskell grinned. “Stewart looked in on you, but we decided not to wake you. You were sawing some serious logs.”

“I’m not surprised,” I said. “Look, why don’t you two go out to lunch, on me, if you’re feeling up to it. It’s the least I can do. Anywhere you like.”

Stewart shut the fridge. “Sounds good to me. How about the steakhouse?” He looked at Haskell. “I’m in the mood for a big, juicy steak and a baked potato stuffed with butter, sour cream, and cheese. My cholesterol can take an occasional hit.”

“Works for me,” Haskell said. “Why don’t you come with us, Charlie?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stay here with Diesel and the kittens. Y’all go on and enjoy yourselves.” I pulled out my wallet and handed them four twenties.

“If you’re sure you won’t come,” Stewart said, “I guess we’ll head out. Be back in a couple hours.”

Haskell followed him out the door into the garage, and soon I heard Stewart’s car backing out.

I walked back to the living room. Diesel lay stretched out on his side, but he sat up when he heard me enter. The kittens had woken and started to play. They looked secure in their pen. The frames stood about seven feet high. I didn’t think even Ramses would try to climb that high to escape.

“Time for lunch,” I told Diesel after a glance assured me that the kittens had enough water and dry food to last them awhile. Diesel meowed and started for the door.

I was about to follow him when I heard loud voices outside. I moved over to the window and looked out, trying to locate the source of the noise.

I found it across the street at Gerry Albritton’s house. Gerry and a man stood on her walk, only a couple of feet from the sidewalk, yelling and gesturing at each other. I couldn’t make out the words, but from the tone I could tell that they were arguing. While I watched, the man whirled and headed for a car parked on the street in front of the next house. Gerry shot him the finger before she turned and stomped her way up the walk.

As he was getting in the car, the man turned in my direction, and I got a clear look at his face. He was familiar, but it took me a minute to place him. He was Billy Albritton, the city councilman—the man who told Melba he didn’t know Gerry Albritton.