by Nic Saint
“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I guess this is where I tell you I want to speak to my lawyer.”
“And this is where I tell you that it won’t do you any good.”
“Are you going to charge me? If so, go right ahead. If not, I think I’ll be leaving now.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Miss Sting.”
All around Odelia, cops were glued to the one-way window, following the back-and-forth with relish. Just then, Odelia’s phone chimed and she walked out of the small space and into the corridor. “Yes, Gran?” she said, stepping into her uncle’s office for a moment.
“You better get over here,” said her grandmother.
“Why? What happened?”
“It’s Dooley. He’s not well.”
Ice suddenly curdled her veins. “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Come to Vena’s. That’s where we took him.”
Chapter 29
The whole family was gathered at Vena’s, hovering around Dooley’s sickbed. The scene resembled one plucked straight from one of Grandma’s soap operas. Well, minus the beefcake doctor. Instead we had to make do with Vena, not a picture of beauty and grace, unfortunately. Then again, she’d saved Dooley’s life, which made her a hero in my book.
“Why the hell did he take those pills?” asked Tex, shaking his white-haired head.
“I just wanted to see what they tasted like,” said Dooley in a thin and reedy voice.
“You know what they tasted like,” I said. “I told you they tasted horrible. And would more than likely make you puke your guts out.”
I’d jumped on top of the cat bed and was keeping my buddy company. I was the one who’d alerted Grandma that something was wrong when I found Dooley passed out on the kitchen floor, unresponsive and pretty much dead to the world. Apparently he’d hopped on the kitchen counter and had gobbled up all the remaining vitamin pills.
“I never should have left those pills out,” said Odelia.
“You couldn’t have known,” said Marge soothingly.
“Who would have thought that vitamins could be bad for you?” said Grandma.
“Some cats have an adverse reaction,” Vena said. “If you ingest as many as Dooley did, it causes havoc to the digestive system, which in turn puts pressure on the heart.”
“Good thing Max was there to save him,” said Grandma. “If not for him, he might have died.”
“Thanks for saving my life, Max,” said Dooley, smiling weakly.
“Any time, buddy,” I said. “Just don’t swallow so many pills again, will you? You almost gave me heart failure.”
Vena left to attend to some of her other patients, and Odelia addressed Dooley directly. Since Chase wasn’t here, and it was just family, she could talk freely. “Never do that to me again, all right, little guy? I thought I lost you. You scared the hell out of me.”
“I just thought… if you and Chase have those babies—”
“What babies?”
“The babies you and Chase are having. The reason Gran has moved in with us.”
The humans all stared at one another. This was obviously news to them.
Dooley gave them a sad look. “There won’t be a place for us at your home once those babies arrive, and you’ll be forced to take us to the pound. And we all know what life at the pound is like. Not a place for sissy cats like me and Max. A cat needs to be tough to survive life at the pound. Clarice would thrive, but Max and I? Not so much.” He coughed. “We have to toughen up, Max. And we don’t have a lot of time. Those babies will be arriving any day now, so I figured if I took some vitamin pills now and again by the time they drop us off at the pound I’ll be all butch like Brutus or Clarice.” He frowned. “I guess I took too many at once. Should have started with one, then ten, then take it from there. Plus, I thought they’d boost my love life, like I told you. If we’re going to be on our own from now on I want a girlfriend.”
“Oh, Dooley,” said Odelia, stroking the small cat’s fur. “I would never take you to the pound. And where did you get this idea about the babies?”
“But you and Chase…”
“Chase and I are simply boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“But boyfriends and girlfriends have babies. Everybody knows that.”
“Damn Discovery Channel,” Grandma grunted.
“I promise you there are no babies on the horizon just yet,” said Odelia gently. “And even if there were, nothing will change for you and Max. Your home will always be with me.”
Dooley gave her a look of such hopefulness it almost brought tears to my eyes. “Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” said Odelia. “Babies or no babies, you’ll always be my baby, too.”
“Aww,” said Marge softly, and even Tex’s eyes suddenly grew moist.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” I told Dooley.
He sighed contentedly. “Yeah, but I’m Odelia’s idiot.”
Just then, Vena walked back in. “And how is our patient?” She checked Dooley and nodded with satisfaction. “His vital signs are fine. He’ll be up and about in no time. I would like to keep him here overnight, though. Just to make sure he makes a complete recovery.”
“I’ll stay, too,” I said quickly. No way was I going to let my friend stay in a creepy place like this. Clinics, whether for humans or for animals, always give me the heebie-jeebies.
“That’s fine, Vena,” said Odelia. “I know he’s in good hands with you.” She patted my head. “And if you don’t mind, we’ll leave Max here, too. He and Dooley are inseparable.”
“Yeah, they’re not your typical cats,” Vena commented. “Most cats are solitary creatures. Not given to fraternizing with their fellow cats. Max and Dooley are different.”
Odelia smiled. “They sure are.”
This was the point when Vena told the Pooles that visiting hours were over and that it was time to let the patient get some healing shut-eye. She didn’t put it in those exact terms, though, but still managed to shoo everyone out, which was a nice change of scene for us. Usually humans shoo cats out, and to see a human shoo other humans out was a lot of fun.
And then it was just me and Dooley.
“You didn’t have to do this, Max,” he said.
“Of course I did. You think I’m going to let you languish at this horror clinic alone?”
He gave me a startled look. “Horror clinic?”
“Sure. Aren’t all clinics horror clinics?”
He conceded my point. “Do you think Vena does all kinds of weird experiments?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me one bit.”
A sudden sense of foreboding stole over me. I was at an animal clinic. A clinic for animals. Who knew what went on here when visiting hours were over? My flesh crept and flashes of a horror movie I’d once seen with Odelia returned to me. It was about a man who liked to experiment on the dead. Re-Animator, the movie was called, and scenes from the movie still creeped me out to this day. Particularly one disturbing scene where the doctor in charge of the proceedings reanimates a dead cat by injecting it with reanimator reagent.
Just then, Vena entered the room, and carefully closed the door behind her until it clicked into its lock. She was holding a huge syringe in her hand, and a strange and oddly disturbing expression on her face. Then she held up the syringe and pushed on the plunger, squirting some clear liquid from the needle. As she approached, she grinned ominously, syringe poised over her head, and then she grabbed for me. “Who’s a good kitty-kitty?”
Both Dooley and I screamed, memories of Re-Animator returning in full force.
Barbara Crampton might be the scream queen, but we are definitely scream cats!
Chapter 30
Odelia arrived at the police station just in time to see her uncle walk out with Tracy Sting on his arm. For a moment she thought she was seeing things. But then her uncle escorted Miss Sting to his pickup and gallantly opened the door for her and helped her in.
“Unc
le? What’s going on?”
Alec looked up, and so did Miss Sting. “Oh, hey, Odelia. May I introduce you to Tracy. Tracy, this is my niece Odelia.”
“Hi, Odelia,” said Tracy, getting out of the car again. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Odelia had trouble keeping her jaw reeled in. “But I thought—weren’t you—didn’t they—”
Alec smiled. “Oh, that was just a misunderstanding. All cleared up now I’m happy to say.”
Odelia automatically shook Miss Sting—Tracy’s—hand. “But… Burt Goldsmith…”
“Another little misunderstanding,” Tracy said. “I explained all that to Alec.”
“And once I explained it to Chase, he understood,” said Uncle Alec.
“Understood what?”
“That I would never harm a hair on Burt’s head,” said Tracy. “After all those years on the road, staying in hotel rooms and traveling the country, Burt and I had become thick as thieves.”
“Thick as thieves,” Alec stressed.
“So you see, Miss Poole—”
“Odelia,” Alec offered.
“Odelia, I would never hurt Burt. And I do hope you catch whoever is responsible.”
“Oh, we’ll catch the bastard,” Alec assured her. “Just you wait and see.”
Tracy placed a hand on his ruddy cheek. “I know you will, you handsome chief.”
Odelia had heard her uncle be called many names but never this. And seeing him all loved up like this frankly astounded her. Furthermore, she wasn’t as confident as he seemed to be that Tracy Sting wasn’t the person they were looking for. She certainly was one tough baby, as far as she could determine. “Do you… have plans?” she asked, gesturing at the car.
Alec smiled at Tracy. “We’re going out. Dinner and a movie. Isn’t that right?”
“Something romantic,” said Tracy. “The Rock has a new movie. Some Die Hard clone.”
“I love Die Hard,” said Alec. “One of my all-time favorite movies.”
“Me too!” Tracy cried. “Another thing we have in common.”
“Very romantic,” Odelia agreed. She’d never seen her uncle look like a lovesick puppy before, and she decided that was just what he looked like right now. Well, maybe not a puppy. More a lovesick bulldog. “Just be careful, will you?” she said, not hiding her worry.
“Oh, we will,” he said. “I’m always careful when I’m traveling with precious cargo.” He gave her a wink, then practically raced to the other side of his pickup, a skip in his step, and hopped in, limber as a foal. “Ready, Tracy?”
“Ready when you are, Alec,” Tracy said, and gracefully placed her shapely legs in the footwell of the truck before closing the door. She cranked down the window a few inches. “I’ll take good care of your uncle, Odelia,” she said with a purr to her voice. “Don’t you worry.” Then she gave her a wink and a smile and the odd couple were off at a healthy clip, Uncle Alec gunning the engine a few times for good measure. Like a young Bruce Willis.
Odelia stood staring after them, conscious of her head moving from side to side of its own accord. Moments later, she became aware of the presence of Chase next to her.
“We had to let her go,” the cop announced somberly. “Alec insists she’s innocent.”
“He might be biased.”
“You think?” He shook his head. “The woman has cast a spell on him.”
“And he fell for it.”
“Hook, line and sinker.”
They stared after the chief’s car as it disappeared around a corner with squealing tires and smoke pouring from the muffler. This wasn’t good. “What if she blows him up?”
“She won’t.”
“She might.”
“He’s a grown man, Odelia. What do you want me to do? Tell him he can’t go out with that girl? Tell him he’s grounded and take away his phone and internet privileges?”
“Maybe we should tail them? Make sure she’s not up to more funny business?”
“He’d spot us five minutes in. The man is a seasoned cop.”
“I don’t like it, Chase.”
“I don’t like it either, Odelia, but there’s nothing we can do.”
He was right. Just then, the cop’s phone chimed. He put it to his ear, listened for a moment, then locked eyes with Odelia. He disconnected and put his phone away. A grin spread across his face. “I think we just caught a break, babe.”
“What?”
“Crime scene people pulled a partial print from a bottle retrieved at the scene.”
“And?”
“Curt Pigott.”
Chapter 31
Turns out Vena wasn’t The Re-Animator, nor was she The Exterminator or The Terminator or some other dastardly creature. Instead she was worried we wouldn’t sleep well, what with being forced to spend the night in an unfamiliar environment, and had given us a mild sedative to make us relax and rest while Dooley recuperated from his ordeal.
And I might add that it worked. Soon after the terrible moment had passed—I hate shots, don’t you?—I’d fallen into a deep and healing sleep and so had Dooley. When I woke up again it was because some altercation had occurred somewhere in the small clinic.
Vena’s clinic is a modest affair. Two rooms and that’s it. Dooley and I had gotten a nice comfy microfleece-lined perch to rest and recuperate on, accompanied by some of her other patients. I counted at least six: a puppy with mumps, a hamster with tendinitis of the elbow—those hamster wheels are a health hazard, I’m telling you—a parrot suffering a vocal issue, a parakeet with a beak sprain, a rabbit with toothache, and a pet mouse with pink-eye. Not that I could see the difference. As far as I know all mice have pink eyes. But I digress.
As I said, I was resting peacefully when all of a sudden I was awakened by the arrival of Vena with a fresh patient. It was another cat, this one of a more raggedy appearance. For a moment I thought it was Clarice, but when Vena finally left her modest ward, I saw it was a ginger cat, smaller and more diminutive than Clarice. When she caught me glancing over, she said, “Oh, hi. So nice to make your acquaintance. My name is Shadow. What is yours?”
I won’t deny that I was stunned. For what felt like days we’d been searching high and low for this elusive Shadow, and now, through some strange twist of fate, here she was!
“Do you by any chance go by the moniker Most Fascinating Cat in the World?” I asked, holding my breath.
“I do, sir, yes. That’s me. I’m the Most Fascinating Cat in the World. At least,” she added, sagging a little in the soft and plush bed Vena had put her in, “I used to be. Before my human was blown to bits. Sad story, sir. Very sad story, indeed. Shall I tell it to you?”
“I think I know the story,” I said. “Burt Goldsmith, right?”
“Best human a cat could ever hope to adopt. Bar none. Though I have to admit I also spent a lot of time with his grandson. Philippe Goldsmith. Have you made his acquaintance?”
“I have—though we were never formally introduced.”
Next to me, another patient stirred. “Who is she, Max?” Dooley asked sleepily.
“Dooley, meet Shadow. Shadow, this is Dooley, my friend and housemate.”
“And what is your name, friend?” asked Shadow.
“Max. Not the most original name, perhaps, but better than Princess at any rate.”
“I used to know a Princess,” said Shadow musingly. “Most Compelling Cat in the World. Though not a very nice one, I’m afraid. If you ever do meet her, try to steer clear.”
“We met,” I said, “and I have the scratches and bites to prove it.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss, Shadow,” said Dooley. “We’ve been trying to solve your human’s murder, but so far we haven’t been able to.”
“We got sidetracked,” I admitted. “Some family drama that cropped up.”
“Family drama will always crop up,” Shadow agreed. “It did in my family, too. Like the time Philippe accused his grandfather of hogging all the atte
ntion and blocking his own rise to fame as the next Most Fascinating Man in the World. Or the time when Burt threatened to cut Philippe out of his will if he didn’t stop annoying him with his constant nagging about taking retirement and allowing his grandson to take over his crown.” She smiled. “Burt used to tease Philippe about being the Most Annoying Man in the World. Philippe didn’t think it was funny. These things happen in every family,” she assured us. “Best not to linger on it too much.” She sighed. “Remember the golden nuggets and forget the darker moments is my advice. Before you know it your human is gone. Blown to bits by an exploding bottle of beer.”
“You know about that?” I asked, surprised.
“I heard about it. You’d be surprised by the things one picks up when sleeping rough.”
“You’ve been living on the street all this time?”
“I have. After what happened I was afraid to return to the hotel. When people start blowing up your human it’s best to stay away. I don’t enjoy the prospect of suffering the same fate, you see. I have this phobia about being blown up.” She shuddered visibly.
“I think we all have a phobia about being blown up. Unpleasant experience.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Where were you when it happened?”
“Sleeping peacefully underneath the bed. Normally I sleep on top of the bed, but I like to change things up from time to time and that morning I’d opted to sleep underneath it. And a good thing I did. Suddenly the whole world seemed to come apart at the seams.”
“How did you get out?”
“The connecting door had been blown off its hinges. I hid in there for a while, then out into the corridor the moment Philippe returned, and out through the fire escape.”
“Philippe and his grandfather occupied connecting rooms?”
“Yes, they did. Philippe insisted on it. Said his grandfather was so old he needed to be nearby. In case something happened with his ticker. Not that Burt was fond of the idea. Said it cramped his style. Told his grandson that if he wanted to bring a couple of birds up to his room it was none of Philippe’s damn business. Not that he ever did invite a couple of birds up to his room mind you,” she added with the air of one harboring a secret regret.
