The Cat, The Professor And The Poison

Thirty-one

But this person wasn’t Patrick Hoffman, as I’d feared. No, this person wasn’t nearly as strong. I gave my would-be attacker an elbow to the gut with all my might.

I heard a grunt as the assailant let go. I even heard him fall.

I didn’t even realize I had the gun with me. But what I did realize was that I’d dropped it when I’d elbowed the guy.

I whirled and saw Douglas Lieber scramble for the weapon. He got to it before I did. Then he stood and pointed it at me.

“You and your little police buddy have been more trouble than I ever needed. I’d shoot you right here, but I need leverage now that your friend in the ditch has seen me. You’re coming with me.”

I glanced back and saw Tom grimacing in pain and trying to crawl toward us. But those fifteen feet between us might as well have been a mile, and Tom knew that. He began shouting for Morris’s help.

Panic flitted across Lieber’s face. He said, “Come with me now.” He waved the gun back toward the thicker woods.

I didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Come on, idiot. Or you’re dead,” he said.

I held up my hands, stepped toward him. “You set this all up, even made it look like activists were the culprits, didn’t you? Set all those poor cats loose.”

His eyes hardened. “What if I did? You come with me, Jillian. Now.”

“No,” I said, taking another step closer. “I want you to look at me when you kill me-like you looked at the professor while he drank the strychnine. You must have slipped it into his drink. What did you do, tell him you’d come over to talk?” I took another step forward.

“I’ve killed two people, why not one more?” He squeezed the trigger at the same moment I kneed him hard between the legs. He collapsed, but he still held that gun and pointed it up at me. It didn’t seem to register with him that it wasn’t loaded, and he tried to fire it again. But the empty gun only clicked.

Two scary-looking black-clad SWAT officers were upon us all of a sudden, demanding that Lieber drop his weapon.

“It’s not even loaded,” I said.

Lieber complied, but not before giving me a venomous look.

I checked behind me, where Tom was being tended to by Morris. “Can I go to my friend?” I said as the officers laid Lieber on his stomach and pulled his hands behind him for the handcuffs.

“You’re sure you’re okay, ma’am?” one of them said.

“I’m fine.” I was beginning to understand why Candace said she loved her work. Kicking butt felt good. But I was worried about Tom.

The poor cat that started this whole thing had finally made it up to a low branch. I stopped on the way back to Tom and held my hand up. It rubbed against my fingers, and I said, “You stay there. I’m coming back for you.”

Then I hurried to where Tom lay. One of the paramedics was already at his side, and Morris was standing nearby, looking a little pasty. When I checked out Tom’s ankle, I saw why. Definitely broken, and sickening to look at.

I rested a palm against his cheek.

“You are a fool for cats,” he said, trying to laugh.

“I am so sorry.” I looked at the paramedic-I remembered meeting her once; her name was Diane. “Will he be okay?”

She was putting an air splint on Tom that resembled a boot. “He’ll be fine-after about six weeks.”

The SWAT officers were now taking Lieber to their truck. I stared up at Morris. “What about Kara and Evan?”

“As soon as that jerk in the house saw that SWAT was here, he gave up. They should be bringing him out soon,” he said.

“But the hostages? They’re okay?” I said.

“The paramedics are checking them out, too. But no shots were fired, and that’s how we like these things to end,” Morris said.

I felt so relieved that tears stung my eyes. “Thank God.”

Tom took my hand. “It’s okay now, but no thanks to me.”

“You gave me that gun. Best defense I could have had-even without bullets,” I said.

He seemed confused, and I realized he probably hadn’t seen what had gone down between Lieber and me-or he was in too much pain to remember. I said, “Tell you later.”

I heard shouts coming from the driveway and saw Candace and two more SWAT officers leading Patrick Hoffman toward a waiting squad car.

He yelled, “I never killed anyone,” a couple of times, and then I overheard him say, “Give me a deal and I’ll tell you everything Lieber did.”

Candace yelled, “You have the right to shut up, dirtbag,” and shoved Hoffman in the back.

Two terrible men were soon carted off in separate squad cars. Meanwhile, a stretcher had arrived for Tom and I had to get out of the way.

“I never thought of myself as clumsy before,” Tom said as they wheeled him toward the ambulance.

“Can I go with him?” I asked.

“You can follow, but not ride. Liability issues,” Diane said.

Tom said, “My keys are still in the car. But you should wait, talk to Kara and Evan. They need you more than I do right now.”

I hurried to his side before they put him in the ambulance and kissed his lips. “Feel better,” I said.

As they drove off with Tom, sirens blasting, a ridiculous thought flashed through my mind: How long before Lydia knows about that kiss?

After I rescued the white cat, who was declawed and thus not very good at climbing trees, Deputy Dufner said he’d take it to the sanctuary. I thanked him profusely and then waited in the Prius for a good thirty minutes. Finally Kara and Evan came walking down the driveway accompanied by Chief Baca. Evan was on his cell phone. Kara was as pale as new snow.

I got out of the car, and Morris the gatekeeper didn’t stop me this time. I ran to her, my arms wide.

We hugged long and hard, and she whispered, “Thank you, Jillian,” into my neck. “Thank you for being so good to me.”

Then I reached out and pulled Evan in and embraced him, too. No words were necessary.

Baca smiled at me. “They’re free to go. I have their statements. But I’ll be calling them in to sign formal statements later.”

“We’re parked down that way.” Kara pointed toward where I’d already visited her car earlier. No way was she driving out right now. The SWAT vehicle was still in the way.

“We’ll take Tom’s Prius and head for the Pink House first,” I said. “Evan, you’ve got a mother and brother waiting for you, and Brandt knows enough about these events to be sick with worry.”

“I already called them,” he said. “But they both need to see me to believe I’m all right.”

On the drive, the two of them were pretty quiet at first and got quieter when I told them that Tom was injured. I was eager to get to the hospital once we dropped Evan off.

“Will Tom be okay?” Evan finally asked.

“Yes. He’ll be fine once they set his ankle. But I’m worried about the two of you. Weren’t you scared to death in there?” I said.

Evan said, “I wouldn’t want to repeat that experience, but Patrick isn’t the worst bad guy in all this. He told us everything Lieber did to my dad, said he thought they were partners. All Hoffman was supposed to do was look for any evidence that might have been left behind at the farm. Evidence connecting Lieber to my father’s plans. But then we showed up. I am pissed off-no, more than pissed off. I’d like about fifteen minutes alone with Douglas Lieber.”

“Don’t worry. He’s in jail, and he’ll pay for what he did to your father. Just chill tonight, okay?” I said. “You’ve been through a rough time.” Evan took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.

We rode in silence again until I dropped Evan off at the Pink House. Brandt must have been waiting at the window, because he raced out the door and grabbed his brother to him for dear life.

Dear life. Yes, indeed. “We need to head to the hospital, but could you check my cat cam, Kara? Chablis can’t get to her family, and she’s probably pouting.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to her. She pulled up the video feed, and for the first time since she’d come out of that farmhouse, I saw her smile.

She said, “I don’t see Chablis. It looks like there’s catnip scattered all over the living room floor. Syrah and Merlot are totally doped and acting stupid.” She laughed.

I silently blessed my cats for their wonderful power to heal.