The Girl with the Cat Tattoo

Chapter 10

Joe heard Max meow. He blinked, trying to bring the cat into focus as he pulled himself to a sitting position, his back against a brick wall. In the dim light cast by the street lamp, Joe looked down and saw blood pooling around him.

Shot in the leg. The thigh. And from the looks of things, his femoral artery had been hit. He put a hand to the waistband of his jeans, expecting to find a belt. Something to use for a tourniquet. But no. He’d taken a shower earlier and hadn’t put on a belt. His fingers fumbled for his cell phone. Checked his pocket. No phone. He’d stepped outside to throw out the trash. A car had come up the alley with no lights. He played back the past few minutes, trying to piece the details together even as his life drained away. Not a random shooting. No, this was deliberate. Someone looking for him. Someone who knew his habits.

His vision blurred.

The cat.

There was the cat again.

Meowing. Pawing at him.

Joe put out his hand, his sticky, bloodstained hand, and touched the cat’s head. He tried to pet him, but his arm shook like crazy. His hand trailed down, dropping to the ground, his fingers coming in contact with a leash. Max was wearing a leash.

Joe didn’t waste time wondering about what had brought Max to this alley at this moment, a leash dangling behind him. While he still had strength, Joe fumbled, trying to unhook the clasp. His bloody fingers slipped, but he finally freed the leash from the cat’s collar. A skinny leash. Probably pink or some other pastel color. It was too dark to see, or Joe’s vision was too impaired. But skinny was good. He slipped it under his thigh, brought the two ends together and tied it off, tightened the knot.

And then he blacked out.

Voices.

Joe heard voices. Female voices. Whispering. Arguing.

“We have to get out of here,” one of them said.

“I can’t leave Max.”

Ah, Melody. It was Melody’s voice.

Beside him, Max meowed.

Melody and Max.

What a pair.

What a great pair.

“Max!” The joy in Melody’s voice was something to hear. She sure loved that crazy cat.

Joe was flat on his back now. He could feel the asphalt beneath him, and he could feel the night air against his face. He could smell the pollen and the blooming trees, and he could smell the barbeque joint down the street. Big Daddy’s. They made the best barbeque.

Above him, someone let out a gasp. Maybe the biggest gasp he’d ever heard. Like someone overacting.

“Oh, my God.”

That was Melody.

Suddenly a light was shining in his face. He flinched and squinted and wished she’d shut it off.

“Lola, call 9-1-1. Call 9-1-1!”

He tried to raise a hand to block the light, but his arm wouldn’t move. It just wouldn’t move. He squinted and could see someone bending over him. He could see long hair and a blue dress. A white apron. Melody. Dressed like Alice in Wonderland. And she was wonderful. She really was.

Another head appeared-Lola’s-then spoke. “I called 9-1-1. They’re on their way.”

“Here,” Melody said. “Hold my phone.” The light shifted.

He felt Melody’s hands poking around. “There’s so much blood,” she said. “So much.” Her voice trembled. Joe was sorry about that.

From somewhere in the distance came the sound of a siren.

Saint Paul had the quickest damn 9-1-1 service. They were known for showing up at the scene before the caller even disconnected. Joe liked that.

But Melody.

He wished she didn’t have to witness this.

He couldn’t see her face-it was in shadow-but he could feel what she was feeling. He could sense her horror. The sirens were getting closer. Then suddenly the alley was illuminated with what seemed like a million lights, Melody’s face washed in a ghostly pallor.

Joe reached up. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her it would be okay. “S-sorry,” he managed to whisper. Somehow he was able to lift his hand and touch her face. But only for a second. Then his hand fell away, his fingers leaving a trail of blood down one ashen cheek.