The Cat, The Professor And The Poison

Five

I had no time to consider exactly what Miss Calico had led me to because just then the shed door squeaked open. I dropped to the ground, the sweet fragrance of jasmine engulfing me and the goldenrod hiding part of me, or at least I hoped so.

I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle my surprise when I saw him. That darn trespassing professor with the funny name had come through the shed to the cat runs, a notebook in his hand. His long gray hair was tamer than before, and he wore a baggy blue suit and a red bow tie. He looked ready to teach a class at the college.

Somehow I didn’t think the cats would be interested in anything he had to say. From the cries and mournful meows rising into the late-afternoon air, I could tell they were hungry. Very hungry. The sound upset me so much, it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I resisted the urge to stand up and shout out a few hard questions. The bad vibes coming from that man, the isolation this place offered and the fact that I had no idea what was happening here stopped me. Watch and learn, I told myself. And then get help.

The professor moved to the far end of the runs and took notes as he stopped at each caged enclosure. I raised my head a tad, hoping to see how many cats were imprisoned here. I saw tiger-striped ears, orange faces, torties, black cats-maybe five or six in each cage. Those poor kitties must hate every minute of this. Didn’t he know cats needed their own space? Obviously he didn’t care, because he seemed to have no problem ignoring their cries. But it was tearing me up inside.

After he’d taken his notes at each enclosure, he went back inside the shed. I hated leaving the cats here, but this problem was too big for me to deal with alone. I was about to turn and crawl back the way I’d come when he appeared again, dragging a huge bag of kibble. I was relieved to see him begin to fill cat dishes, but when he stopped halfway down the cement walkway and took the food back inside the shed, anger boiled up into my throat. What about the rest of them?

I wanted to march down to those runs and give him what he had coming, but he appeared again before I could even move, this time carrying a gallon-size jar. He fed the rest of the cats a slimy, red, nasty- looking concoction from the jar, using what looked like a half-cup measure. The cats quieted, and when I wiped the few tears that had escaped from the corners of my eyes, I noticed long red marks on my shaking hand. Apparently I’d scratched myself on the fence, but I felt nothing but the pain of seeing those poor cats having their meager meal rationed out to them. It made me ill.

I lay in the jasmine vines for several minutes after the professor finished his task and had disappeared into the shed again. I could see Miss Calico, her back to me, lying down in one of the jails closest to me. She must have dug under the fence to get in and out. At least she seemed to be housed without other cats that might have harmed her kittens. Since she was on this end, she’d gotten the red slop for her meal. No wonder she’d been out scrounging for food. And she’d arrived back just in time, or who knew what would have happened to the kittens I assumed she was now feeding?

The goldenrod finally pushed me into action. When I started sneezing, lots of surprised cat faces turned my way. One particular tabby locked eyes with mine. He had the biggest, most gorgeous ears, but those eyes-I wouldn’t forget them. I whispered, “I’ll come back for you,” before the next sneeze hit.

I reluctantly crawled away until I was out of sight of that shed, trying hard to keep what was now nonstop sneezes as quiet as possible. I’d paid no attention to what other buildings might be on the property. A barn? A house? I’d been completely focused on the cats. But by now I feared the professor might spot me or hear me any minute.

I clambered over and down the wildflower hill, but not without stumbling on two more unpleasant surprises: dead rats. I wondered whether this was the work of the cats who’d managed to escape and make it to Ruth Schultz’s place. I stepped over them, swiping at my dripping nose. My eyes felt like they were on fire as I started back the way I’d come.

I glanced ahead in the direction of that wicked fence. Surely I could make my retreat without further injury and get back to the sanctuary. I had to tell Shawn about this. Maybe he could help me figure out what was going on with those cats.

The trek back to Ruth Schultz’s farm was taking longer than the trip out, without a calico cat to guide me. It wasn’t like I had any real path to follow. Turned out the lack of a path was the way I was supposed to walk after all. I’d stopped sneezing long enough to hear the weak sounds of a cat meowing.

I turned, thinking Miss Calico had followed me, but no, these mews were persistent, soft and up ahead to my right. I stepped slowly in the direction of the sound and soon found the source: a thin gray cat lying in trampled grass. Another escapee from the professor’s farm? Probably.

The gray made no attempt to move as I knelt and extended a hand. The mews stopped, and sunken green eyes looked up at me. Unlike the other cats I’d been close to, this one definitely needed help. I reached a hand out and gently ran my fingers along the side of the gray’s face. A minute later, he was in my arms and we were on our way without so much as a protest from the cat. He was weak, possibly dehydrated and far too thin for his frame.

I found Ruth in the field tending her tomato plants.

Since she was kneeling, she saw my nicked and scratched shins first. She looked up, her eyes wide. “What happened to you?” She rose. “And what happened to this one?”

“I found out where the cats are coming from, so I’m heading back to get this one to Shawn. This gray needs help.”

“But you need those cuts cleaned up first,” she said. “And your eyes-why are they so puffy?”

“Allergies. Really, I’m fine,” I said, shrugging off her offer and heading for my van. “Do you know your neighbor, the professor?”

She walked alongside me. “Professor? Who are you talking about?”

“There’s property about a twenty-minute walk from here. Do you know the man who owns it?”

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Someone bought that place?” She shook her head. “I get so involved in planting this time of year, I literally have my head in the sand. That old farm has been vacant for years. Most of them in this area are abandoned. Small farms are nearly extinct around here.”

“It’s not vacant anymore. Can you open the front passenger door?”

Ruth did so, and then I had her grab an old cat quilt from the back. She spread it on the passenger seat, and I laid the gray down. He meowed but made no effort to move.

I scratched an itch on my left arm. Geez. The bug bites from slithering on the ground were almost as itchy as my nose.

“All my new friends belong to this professor, then?” She nodded toward her barn, rubbing dirty hands on the front of her jeans.

“Probably-but it doesn’t seem like they’re his pets. When I met him, that’s what he called them-pets. What a liar.”

“You talked to him?” Her gaze traveled back and forth between the cat and my cuts and scratches.

“Not at his place. I’ll explain later. This cat needs help now. Since you have cat food now, will you be okay with a few extra mouths to feed?”

She smiled. “Certainly. I do want to help.”

We said our good-byes, and she reminded me once more to get first aid as soon as possible. Sweet lady, I thought as my van rumbled down the back roads of Mercy toward the sanctuary.

When I walked back into Shawn’s office fifteen minutes later, his gaze immediately went to the limp cat in my arms.

“Looks like you’ve been in combat, Jillian,” he said. “But I get the feeling it wasn’t with this cat. Give him here.”

I eased the gray into Shawn’s arms and then followed as he took him through the office and into the part of the sanctuary where he had a stainless-steel examination table. The gray didn’t like this much, tried to get up, but didn’t have the strength to resist Shawn’s firm hold. Shawn lifted the cat’s right cheek to expose the gums and pressed a finger above the upper gum. He then ran his big hands over the gray’s body, all the while murmuring that everything would be fine.

“Dehydrated,” Shawn finally said. “I’ll give him some IV fluids under his skin.” Shawn looked me up and down. “Did any of the cats scratch you?”

I held out my hands, glanced down at my legs. “These? No, these are from sneaking around in the country on my belly. Mother Nature bites sometimes. We have a situation that needs immediate attention-but I don’t know where to start.”

I gave him a hurried summary of what I’d seen, where I’d found the gray cat and how I knew about this professor.

Shawn’s reaction was instantaneous anger. “I’ve got to see this for myself. Can you stay with this guy after I give him fluids?”

“Hang on. There’s too many cats-at least fifty by my quick count. You can’t handle fifty cats alone.”

He took a deep breath, the tips of his ears scarlet. “But I have to do something.”

“I feel the same way,” I said gently, hoping my tone would transfer an air of calmness to him, even though I felt less than calm myself. “But we need help.”

“If this professor has a cattery license and those cats aren’t being properly fed, he’s in big trouble.” Shawn walked over to a cabinet and retrieved a clear plastic bag of what I assumed were the fluids the gray needed. “But that means we have to go through the animal control officer. Last thing I want to do is call that dumbass Chester. I’ll go over to that farm and see what’s what first.”

I’d left the door to the office open, and Snug took the opportunity to pipe in with “ Chester ’s a dumbass. Chester ’s a dumbass.” I guessed the parrot had heard that refrain plenty of times.

“Not a good idea to go there alone, Shawn,” I said. He’d been suspected of murdering a catnapper last year thanks to the combination of his quick temper and his passion for the well-being of animals. I wasn’t sure he could be trusted to keep his anger in check once he saw what I’d witnessed.

He threw up his free hand. “You’re the one who came back with this poor animal asking for help, and now you don’t want me to do anything?”

“I didn’t say that. Listen, Candace did the stakeout at the West place, where we caught that professor red-handed. She’s already warned this man about his questionable behavior. If he’s doing something illegal, she can step in. Meanwhile, you start calling volunteers to be ready to take in cats. I’ll gladly take the calico and her litter.”

“I don’t have a long enough list of volunteers around here to handle fifty cats. So you’re right. We do need a plan.” He paused, scratched his head. “I have friends in other parts of the state who’ll help. The cats might have to stay at this idiot’s so-called farm until volunteers can get here.”

“You sure you can’t call on Chester? I mean, how will we get around him?” I asked.

“ Chester ’s a dumbass,” Snug called.

I had to smile.

Shawn sighed. “I probably can’t keep him out of this, but I sure as hell wish I could. Okay, phone Candace. Meanwhile, I’ll make some calls, check the state licensing board online about new catteries-’cause I sure haven’t heard a peep about any new ones around here. If there’s no license, well, seems to me this professor’s in big trouble every which way you look. This poor guy is evidence of mistreatment if he came from that farm-and I’m sure he did.”

While Shawn tended to the gray cat, I went outside to call Candace. A late-afternoon breeze helped me feel a little less grungy. Seeing all those cats locked up had me thinking of my own three. All of them had stayed in shelters after Katrina, and that’s no life for a cat, even when the animals are surrounded by loving volunteers. Before I called Candace, I checked my cat cam.

My three weren’t sleeping as I’d expected. Chablis and Merlot were crouched nose to nose, staring down at something between them-what, I couldn’t tell. Syrah circled them, he, too, intent on whatever they’d captured this time. Maybe that spider had given birth before they killed it and my house was now infested. Sheesh. I didn’t need this right now.

I disconnected from the feed and speed-dialed Candace. She sounded tired when she answered-I remembered then that she’d told me she had to go in on the evening shift this afternoon. She told me she was at Belle’s Beans getting a coffee fix. No criminal activity was happening in Mercy at the present time, and she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Man, I envied her that coffee.

When I told her about the professor and what I’d seen, she said, “That’s horrible. I’ll call this in to county animal control right now. I can’t promise they’ll move quickly, though. They’ve got one guy.”

“ Chester, right?” I said. “Shawn won’t be happy.”

“Shawn knows there are steps we have to follow,” she answered, sounding more than a little irritated.

“Can’t you tell Chester this is an emergency? Because those cats sounded miserable.”

“You think that will make a difference to him?” she said. “Don’t repeat this, but my opinion of Chester matches Shawn’s.”

“Okay, tell Chester I’m about to call the Mercy Messenger. Animal stories like this one draw lots of media attention, and-”

“Jillian. Are you resorting to extortion?” She was definitely tired, and I’d pressed the wrong button.

“I won’t really do it,” I said quickly. “But you could tell him I will.”

“Oh. So I deliver the extortion message?” She sighed wearily. “All right. I’ll call you back.”

And she did. Seems Chester succumbed easily to threats of bad publicity. He would be meeting her at the property, which she’d already located on her police cruiser computer.

“Can I come with you?” I asked. “I promise I won’t get in your way.”

“Only if you stay in the car,” she said.

“Yes. Absolutely,” I answered.

“Pick you up in five,” she said.

She arrived at the sanctuary several minutes later, and she’d brought me a big cup of rich, dark coffee. I almost kissed her.

She gave me the once-over. “You look like you fell in a thicket.”

“Nothing a shower and a little Neosporin can’t fix.” I took the lid off the coffee so it would cool quicker, while Candace went inside the sanctuary to talk to Shawn.

I climbed into the passenger seat of the green and white squad car. When Candace returned and slid behind the wheel, she said she’d told Shawn to stay here and wait for a call from her or from Chester.

“Bet he liked that.” I sipped at my coffee. Man, I needed this, I thought.

“He did a quick computer check, and no cattery or kennel licenses have been issued for these parts in years. Looks like we do have cats in trouble. Again.”

We took off and ended up on a different road from the one leading to the other farms we’d been to in the last two days. I was grateful that Candace was driving more carefully. I could actually drink my hot coffee instead of wear it.

Chester had not yet arrived when we pulled up to a mailbox that bore the number 911. Prophetic, I thought. We might need a special 911 emergency number for cats in a little while.

Candace said, “We’ll wait on Chester. He gets paid to deal with these situations.” She parked the cruiser on the side of the road next to a driveway similar to Ruth’s and left the engine running.

No cow grate, I thought. That’s why Harriett had been able to leave and wander on home. “You mean situations that might be considered animal neglect?” I said.

“Right. Kinda makes me sick even to think about,” she said.

“My stomach’s been churning since I saw what’s going on here. Dirty outdoor runs. Unhappy cats. And some that might be in bad shape like the gray.” I checked my watch. Almost seven p.m., with the sun hanging below the tree line and painting the sky blood orange.

We waited in silence, the tension in the car as steady as the loud purr of the engine.

When Chester hadn’t arrived by seven twenty and he wasn’t answering his phone or his page, Candace finally spoke. “For pity’s sake, I can’t sit here forever waiting on this man.”

I felt the same way-anxious and worried.

Before Candace got out of the car, she pointed a finger at me. “I know you. You want to see if those cats are okay. But stay put. If the animal control wagon arrives, tell Chester I’ve gone to check this place out.”

“I’ve got a bad vibe, Candace. Let me go with you. My gut told me from the minute I met him that he’s got serious issues, and-”

She patted the weapon on her hip. “I have help right here.” Then Candace slipped from behind the wheel.

I called, “Be careful,” before she slammed the door.

Once she was out of sight, I shut off the air-conditioning and rolled down the window. The evening’s muggy warmth and the smell of jasmine engulfed me. On another day and another occasion, that combination might have been soothing. Not today.

I poured what was left of my coffee into the dirt. The coffee seemed only to have made my stomach feel worse. Candace had been thoughtful to bring me the boost I needed, but I would have preferred a purring Chablis in my lap. A purring cat helps me through any tough time.

I told myself that with Candace on the job, the cats would be taken care of. I should just calm down.

A mere thirty seconds passed before I realized I couldn’t calm down and was too restless to remain in the car. I turned off the engine, took the keys and began to pace at the end of the driveway. I heard the rumbling sound of an engine and looked out on the road. A white panel van sputtered by, and the driver waved his hand out the window as he passed. I waved back-that’s what you did in Mercy. But I was distracted by the situation at hand. I began to gnaw on my index fingernail. I was listening for cat cries. But I heard nothing. Maybe they were happier than the last time I’d been here-which seemed like a hundred years ago.

Or perhaps the breeze was carrying their pleading voices in the other direction. I ventured several steps down the curving, hedge- lined gravel driveway, hoping I could hear something-anything. Soon the peaked house came into view. White clapboard-or used to be white. More like gray now.

Still hearing nothing, of either the cat or the human variety, I edged closer to get a full view of the house.

And that’s when Candace bolted out through the front door, pressing the walkie-talkie she usually wore on her shoulder close to her mouth.

Her already pale skin was sickly white, and suddenly she dropped the walkie-talkie and fell to her knees.

She began to retch.