by Molly Fitz
“I believe you,” I said, but that didn’t lessen my worry any. What would Matt say when he found out the cats I’d begged to babysit were now runaways? Whether or not he wanted to keep them, he mostly definitely would not be pleased that I’d managed to lose one of the last pieces of his mother.
I peered into the forest uneasily. Would I have to brave those woods again? Would Octo-Cat be willing to help? And just where was he anyway?
I spotted a little red sports car in front of the Harlow place. It seemed Thompson was over for a visit with Matt. Hopefully that would keep him occupied long enough for me to safely recover the missing cats. We looked for another half hour, but by that time, dusk had begun to settle in.
“I’m really sorry again,” Cal said when we still hadn’t made any progress. “Is it still okay for me to come back tomorrow?”
“Of course. And seriously, don’t worry about it. I know this wasn’t your fault,” I assured him.
He nodded grimly, then ambled into his truck and sputtered off.
“I’m going to go start on supper,” Nan announced, giving me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure they’ll show up soon.”
I worried my lip while taking another loop through the property. Why were these Sphynxes so good at hiding? And why wasn’t Octo-Cat here to help?
Giving up at last, I trudged up the stairs and went to investigate the upper floors of the house. Maybe they hadn’t gotten outside at all. It was possible they were just tucked into some other cold corner, shivering with abandon. Seriously, what was up with their desire to be cold all the time?
The house itself had dropped a few degrees since my last pass through. Much to my chagrin, I found that I’d left the bathroom window wide open following my chat with Charles. I eased it shut again, finally deciding I’d earned a break. I could search again later with fresh eyes. First, I just needed to sit a while.
As I approached the stairs, a shadow shifted at the end of the hallway. I squinted for a closer look, wondering if at last I’d found the Sphynxes, and just as I was about to give up the search, too. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the cats—just my poor, overworked imagination. Keeping my eyes on the beautiful stained-glass windows in the foyer below, I stepped down and directly onto Octo-Cat, who hadn’t been there even a second earlier when I’d glanced down to ensure I had a clear path.
He let out a terrible, twisted yowl, and I quickly adjusted my weight to avoid hurting him any further. This adjustment caused me to lose my balance and tumble down several steps before catching myself halfway down.
“You tried to kill me!” I shouted, clutching my throbbing head. I’d hit it—I’d hit everything—on the way down. “You really tried to kill me!”
Octo-Cat widened his eyes in horror. “It was an accident,” he insisted, hobbling down for a closer look. I could tell he was hurting, too, but he’d live.
Me? I’d almost been murdered by my cat, and I had no idea why.
Nan came rushing in. “Angie, goodness! Is everything all right?”
“Octo-Cat tried to kill me,” I screamed again. How could this be real?
“No, Angela, no!” he continued, not even flicking his tail or making any of his usual irritated gestures. “It was an accident. There was a shiny red dot. I didn’t mean to—”
Suddenly, the front door burst open. My mom stood there, backlit by the setting sun, her hair wild with twigs sticking out of it at odd angles. “Get in the car now!” she told me. “Mom, your keys!” she told Nan.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!” Octo-Cat cried, but I could deal with him later. I ran down the steps as fast as I could and hopped in the passenger’s side seat of Nan’s sexy red sports coupe.
“What’s happening?” I cried as Mom joined me and jammed the keys in the ignition.
The engine roared to life and she pushed the car into high gear, creating a giant cloud of dust behind us. We took off so fast, the momentum whipped me back against the seat hard. My head began to throb again, but the physical pain was nothing next to the morbid curiosity I had for whatever came next.
“Mom!” I shouted, holding on tight to the dashboard as we flew down my driveway and turned onto the road ahead. “What is happening?”
“I saw who tried to kill you,” she said, and for the first time I noticed she was panting with exhaustion. “I was in the woods and came running the second I saw him slip out of your window. He killed Harlow, and now he was trying to kill you. My little girl! If I catch him before the cops do, he’s dead.”
“Mom!” I screamed again just to ensure I could be heard over the roar of the engine. She made another sharp turn, and Nan’s hot little ride fishtailed onto the main road that ran through Glendale. “Who? Who tried to kill me?”
She gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, but she only gunned the gas pedal even harder. We crossed the train tracks, and Mom practically lost control of the vehicle. Still, we were moving forward at speeds faster than any car should even be able to drive.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered, her jaw set in a determined line.
Sirens wailed behind us, and I recognized one of the county patrol cars as it pulled up behind us and quickly gained speed.
“Mom!” I cried. I still didn’t know what was happening, but it felt like I’d been saved by one murder plot only to wind up right in another one. “Stop! The police are behind us!”
“Good,” she said, taking another deep breath as she accelerated even faster. The speedometer edged dangerously close to the one-hundred and sixty miles per hour mark. How was this possible? Why were we even doing this?
Panic gripped me hard as we continued our wild ride. Oh my gosh, someone had tried to kill me, and now I was going to die at the hands of my mother’s crazy driving!
“Where would he go?” Mom shouted at me. “Where would he go next?”
“Who?” I screamed again. I still didn’t understand anything.
“Your boss,” she ground out, changing lanes with abandon. “Richard Thompson.”
Chapter Eighteen
My mind reeled while my body slammed against the car door and my seatbelt dug into my chest. Did my mom really think that my boss had tried to kill me? That couldn’t be possible. Octo-Cat had tripped me. I’d never even seen Thompson that day.
“Mom,” I said, hyperventilating. “I’m not sure what you saw, but Thompson was never at my house.”
“Yes, he was,” she shouted, taking another sharp turn.
We were going toward the law firm, I realized then. The cop car stayed right on our tail. I turned back and saw Officer Raines’s determined face as she pursued us. She and Mom had already gotten off on the wrong foot, and this impromptu high-speed chase pretty much ensured they’d never be on friendly terms, no matter what happened next.
“I don’t know how he got in,” Mom continued. “But he climbed out through the window.”
“When?” I pleaded, still not understanding. How could any of this be real?
“About two minutes before I made it to your door,” she said, slowing slightly as we passed by the law firm. Thompson’s car was not there.
That timing Mom reported lined up pretty well with my fall, but…
“There weren’t any cars. I didn’t see or hear anyone leave before us,” I insisted. Even if Thompson had somehow managed to get in and out of my house without being detected, he hadn’t gone anywhere in that little red sports car with his. The irony didn’t escape me that the pursuant and the pursuer had the exact same type of vehicle. What a chase this would have been, had Thompson actually been a part of it.
“Of course,” Mom yelled, twisting the car in an action movie-like U-turn. “He’s still on foot! We have to get back! Your nan!”
Fear gripped every fiber of my being as I thought of my poor, vulnerable grandmother all alone with a killer. She was tough, but that was all attitude. If he came at her physically, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
<
br /> The sirens whooped behind us. “Pull your vehicle to the side of the road,” Officer Raines commanded over the loud speaker.
“C’mon, Mom,” I said, still clutching tight to the dashboard. “Get us back to Nan!”
I had no idea where my mom had acquired her wicked stunt driving skills, but she got us back to the manor house in record time, which was saying a lot considering how quickly we’d initially peeled away.
As soon as the scar skidded to a stop, I jumped out and raced toward the house, stumbling on the porch stairs as I went. “Nan!” I cried. “Please be okay!”
Nan appeared in the open doorway wearing her polka-dotted apron and drying her hands on a dish towel. “Of course I’m all right, dear. Just finishing up dinner. Did you and your mother have fun on that high-speed chase of yours?”
I hugged her tight but was quickly pulled back by one very angry Officer Raines. Somehow, she already had Mom cuffed and face down in the dirt. “Stop!” I screamed. “We aren’t the bad guys!”
Officer Raines slapped a pair of cuffs on me anyway and began to cite my Miranda Rights.
Mom struggled on the ground. “He’s still here somewhere. He tried to kill my daughter!”
The lady cop did not seem amused. “Likely story,” she mumbled.
But Nan poked her hard on the shoulder, causing us all to gasp. “You listen here, missy! If my daughter says there’s a killer on the loose, then you better believe there’s a killer loose. So what if she went a little over the speed limit? Is that as bad as having a murderer on the loose?”
Officer Raines laughed sarcastically. “A little! Try one hundred and twelve at least.”
“I had to get your attention somehow,” Mom groaned, trying desperately to flip herself over.
“Well, you got it,” the officer said, grinding her hand into my shoulder as she forced me down the porch steps. “My attention and a one-way trip straight to county jail.”
No, no, no. This was all wrong. I hadn’t had time to finish putting together the clues to figure out why Thompson would want to murder Harlow and then me. But I trusted my mom. If she said she saw him, then he was probably still here somewhere.
“Thompson!” I shouted, trying and failing to get away from my captor. “We know you’re out there.”
“Stop deflecting,” the officer spat. Why wouldn’t she just listen to us? If she hauled Mom and me away, then Nan would be in definite danger and Thompson would most likely never be brought to justice.
Officer Raines pushed me toward her cruiser with Nan hitting her every step of the way. “You let my granddaughter go!”
This was all going very wrong very fast. There was only one person left to turn to now. Well, not person exactly…
“Octo-Cat!” I screamed, craning my neck over my shoulder to glance back toward the house. “Help us!”
Right on cue, my dear, sweet tabby came running through his special electronic door flap and looked up at me with shaking eyes. “Angela, I’d never, ever hurt you.”
“I know,” I said tenderly, which was difficult considering I was still in police custody. “Help us. Help us catch Thompson. He’s the killer, not the cats.”
Officer Raines regarded me with a piteous look. “You might be able to get off on an insanity plea,” she said, and clearly this dissatisfied her greatly.
Octo-Cat ran into the yard and started shouting at the top of his lungs. We all watched as he cried, “Jacques! Jillianne! Now is the time! Let us bring your human’s killer to justice! Do as cats do! Do it now!”
I don’t know whether he actually knew where they’d been hiding, but a moment later a terrible growl sounded on the roof, followed by a hiss, and...
Thompson staggered into view, away from the spot he’d been hiding in behind the turret. My turret!
“There he is!” I shouted to Officer Raines, twisting violently to force her to look.
“Sir,” the cop shouted, spotting him at once. “Why are you trespassing here?”
“Oh, um,” My boss sputtered, running hands over his suit jacket. His face had fresh blood dripping down the side, and I instantly recognized the work of one ticked-off kitty—maybe two.
Thompson reached beneath his jacket, then pulled out a gleaming pistol. For the third time within a span of fifteen minutes, I was at risk of dying. What a day this was.
“Sir! Drop the weapon!” Officer Raines yelled, pushing me to the ground presumably for my safety.
Octo-Cat sprinted over to me and began to lick the dirt away from my cheek with his sandpaper tongue. “I’m so sorry, Angela. To think, I was used like that. I would never hurt you. You’re my human, and I love you.”
“I know,” I said, wishing I wasn’t cuffed so that I could stroke his soft, fluffy head. “I love you, too.”
A terrible scream ripped us apart. I looked just in time to see Thompson hit the ground. His leg twisted at an unseemly angle following his two-story fall, and he cried out in tremendous pain.
Rolling onto my side, I looked up and saw the previously missing Jacques and Jillianne sitting at the edge of the roof licking their hairless paws happily. And suddenly it all clicked into place. I still didn’t know why he’d done it, but Thompson had used the Sphynxes to trip the senator the same way he’d used Octo-Cat to trip me, the intelligent jerk. No wonder the poor, distraught cats had confessed to the crime.
Octo-Cat glanced toward Jacques and Jillianne on the roof and cried in delight. “They did as cats do!” he enthused, rushing toward Thompson’s prostrate form.
What happened next wasn’t pretty. He walked right onto Thompson’s back and popped a squat. A wet spot quickly darkened the light suit jacket, and the unmistakable smell of ammonia mixed with the fresh evening air..
“That’s for trying to kill my human!” he yelled, proceeding to scratch his hind legs in fury.
Nan laughed and clapped her hands together. Honestly, I’d have done the same if I wasn’t cuffed at that particular moment. “Wonderful,” she squealed.
“Officer Raines,” I mumbled, my face squashed to the ground. “That man broke into my house and tried to kill me. We’re pretty sure he’s also the one who killed Senator Harlow and tried to make it look like an accident.”
Thompson just moaned in agony.
“You’re lucky a fall like that didn’t snap your neck,” the policewoman said, taking the cuffs off me and my mom, then going over to snap a pair on Thompson. “Or maybe not, seeing as you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do once we get you to the station.”
She forced him onto his feet, and he cried out in pain again.
“Serves you right!” Nan shouted as Officer Raines stuffed him in the back of her cruiser and fled into the night.
So, now that we knew whodunnit, it was time to figure out why…
Chapter Nineteen
Mom, Nan, and I gathered around the formal dining table, the same table that had been used to serve the poisonous meal that caused the late owner of this estate to lose her life. I tried not to think about that too much, though, as I dug into the delicious and hard-earned meal before me.
Despite our posh surroundings, we were eating tuna noodle casserole with a Vienna sausage and breadcrumb topping.
“I can’t believe Mr. Thompson killed his friend. I can’t believe he tried to kill me,” I said, shaking my head sadly.
Octo-Cat sat beside me slurping a fresh dish of cream. He lifted his head, burped, and smiled at me unapologetically. It was amazing how quickly things reverted to normal around here.
“Well, you said he wasn’t a very good boss,” Nan pointed out, stabbing a mini sausage and taking a bite out of it, extreme bliss apparent on her face.
“Not a good boss and murderer seem miles apart to me,” Mom pointed out. She’d found an old bottle of pinot noir in the cellar and was now taking generous sips from an overfull wine glass.
“You solved it,” I said, giving her my best, most daughterly smile. “You’re the one who figured
everything out. How?”
She hesitated for a moment, took another drink, and then said, “Well, it wasn’t easy, but I knew when the death had been ruled an accident that it just couldn’t be the truth. Since you and Nan seemed to have formed your own investigative club, I decided to stake out the forest and watch. It’s what any good journalist in my position would do.”
“And then you saw Thompson creeping around,” I provided.
“Yes. It was especially suspicious when I saw him climbing out of a second-story window. Invited guests just don’t do that.” She took another slow sip and sighed. “I still don’t know why, though.”
“Harlow was planning to retire. She was grooming him for her spot,” I revealed. “Charles told me earlier today.”
“Hey, you never told me that!” Nan protested, setting her fork down and pressing a napkin to her lips.
“I didn’t tell either of you. I didn’t get the chance.”
“So, it seems,” Mom said, rubbing her finger around the top of her wine glass as she spoke. “That Charles tipped off Thompson, which is why he came sneaking around here.”
“Charles would never put me in danger,” I argued, dread pooling in my stomach once again.
“Not knowingly,” Nan agreed. “Do you think he was tricked?”
“It was my fault,” I mumbled, seeing now what had happened. “I asked Charles to talk to him about why he’d visited the crime scene on day one.”
“And that conversation was enough for him to know that you were onto him,” Nan said with a scowl. “I never did much care for that man.”
“You also never met him,” I pointed out, loving how ready and willing both my mom and my nan were to come to my defense.
“They were friends,” Mom said after a few silent moments passed. “He killed a friend. For what, power?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “Maybe Officers Raines and Bouchard will be able to get it out of him, though.”
“I really hope we’ve seen the last murder in Glendale for many years to come,” Nan added with a sigh.
