What the Cat Knew

by P. D. Workman

  Reg ate peanut butter straight out of the jar, topped up Starlight’s water dish, and headed to the bed. Starlight, disgruntled by this treatment, followed her, yowling and complaining. Reg kept an eye on him to make sure he wasn’t going to attack her legs, and climbed into bed. She wrapped herself up in the blanket and closed her eyes, sinking into the pillow.

  In a few minutes, Starlight had jumped up onto the bed, but Reg was too close to sleep to be bothered to push him back off. As long as he didn’t bite her ankles, she didn’t care, and her ankles were well-wrapped in the blanket. Starlight snuggled against her, making a warm little pocket against her, and he started to purr. Reg drifted off. Feeling glad for once that she had adopted a cat and had someone warm and comforting to keep her warm. Better than the boyfriends she’d had over the years.

  She couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few minutes when Starlight got up abruptly. He meowed as if answering some call, walked over top of her, and jumped to the windowsill. Reg tried to just go back to sleep, but his behavior was disquieting, and she found that she couldn’t close her eyes and return to her state of unconsciousness again.

  “Starlight? What’s the matter? What do you see out there?” she asked him.

  Maybe there was a bird or a squirrel or some other type of wildlife in the yard. They were close enough to wild country that there might even be a deer. Or a gator.

  Reg definitely couldn’t go back to sleep thinking that there might be a gator in the yard. Even if she wasn’t outside and knew that Starlight wasn’t outside, it still scared her.

  “What is it, kitty? Can’t you just come back to the bed?”

  He didn’t even turn and look at her, but put his paws up on the glass as if trying to get out. He was definitely watching something out there.

  With the blanket wrapped around her, Reg slid her feet off the bed and shuffled over to the window. It was dark outside. Not full dark, but pretty close. If there was a gator outside, she wasn’t going to be able to see it.

  But she did see something. Not a shape down low to the ground, but something upright, moving against the trees.

  She told herself it was a deer. Or maybe just the shadow of the house or another tree. But she knew by the way it moved that it was not a deer. It wasn’t anything wild. Not a wild animal, anyway.

  Her window was open a crack to let the light breeze in, along with the smells and sounds of the outside. She could hear the figure moving across the yard, getting closer and closer to her window. She hadn’t left the lights on, so he probably had no idea she was standing there by the window waiting for him.

  The dark shape drew closer. A man in a cloak or a long coat?

  “Who’s out there?” Reg demanded, her voice quiet in the stillness of the night.

  The man froze. She couldn’t see his features, but she could tell he was looking toward her, trying to analyze her and decide on his next move.

  “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”

  Reg shivered at the creepy whisper. She forced toughness into her voice. “The big, bad wolf? Really? That’s inventive.”

  He didn’t respond right away. “You’re supposed to say, ‘not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.’”

  “Seriously?”

  “I didn’t have an answer prepared. I didn’t expect you to see me.”

  Starlight moved on the windowsill and meowed.

  “Oh,” Corvin said. “I see. It was your familiar who saw me.”

  “He says the way you’re crashing around out there, it’s a wonder you haven’t woken the whole neighborhood.”

  There was another pause. “Did he really say that?” Corvin asked finally.

  Reg pressed her lips together. Did he think she could talk to animals? As ridiculous as it sounded, it wasn’t really any more far-fetched than being able to talk to someone who was dead or in a coma. Maybe there were mediums who could talk to animals. There were plenty of pet owners who would pay to know what their furry babies had to say.

  “Are you going to come in, or continue to crash around my yard?”

  “It’s Sarah’s yard.”

  “Should I call her to see if she wants you back there?”

  She heard a twig snap as he shifted his stance. “Uh… no. I don’t see any need for that.”

  “Come to the door, then.”

  Inviting him into her home might seem like a stupid thing to do, but Reg knew he was going to end up there sooner or later. She might as well be able to keep an eye on him and not waste her energy trying to prevent what was going to happen inevitably anyway.

  Corvin obediently went to the cottage door and Reg let him in. He hesitated in the doorway, looking in. Looking for Starlight, maybe?

  “Are you going to come in?”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  Reg rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she said in exasperation. “Come in.”

  He nodded and entered. He shut the door behind him and slid the deadbolt into place. Reg hadn’t used the deadbolt since her arrival. She frowned. No one would be able to come in if she needed help. Except Sarah must have a key for the deadbolt. It was her cottage. But Reg suspected she’d have to turn around and go back into the house to find it, and she wasn’t particularly fast. A lot could happen in a short period of time.

  Corvin’s eye darted around the cottage again. Starlight had been lurking in the spare room, and entered the living room area. He yowled when he saw Corvin and headed straight toward him.

  “Mind your own business, cat,” Corvin told him. “I was invited.”

  Starlight looked at Reg. He sat down and started to wash, flicking his ears at her every few licks. Reg understood clearly that he was not happy with her. If he was psychic, like Sarah suggested, maybe he had some knowledge about Corvin that Reg did not. Though Reg had already been told that he was dangerous.

  “So what were you doing lurking around my yard?” she demanded. “Our date isn’t until tomorrow. Couldn’t you wait?”

  “I wanted to check on you and make sure everything was alright.”

  She glared at him. “Really? You expect me to believe that?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  She held the stare for a few seconds longer. She could feel his pull. She tried to resist it, breathing shallowly and looking past him.

  “Maybe because a warlock of your description put a binding spell on Warren Blake.”

  His brows drew down. He sat on the couch, frowning at Reg. “You found Warren Blake?”

  “Yes. You didn’t expect that, did you? Thought you had him hidden away where no one would ever be able to find him. But you didn’t count on me being able to—” Reg cut herself off, not sure how to describe what it was that she had done. She hadn’t followed his trail. She hadn’t been told where he was. Even if she had channeled Warren for real, he hadn’t been able to tell her where he was. She had just looked at the map, pointed to the place, and walked in and found him. That kind of psychic phenomenon was just the sort of thing she didn’t believe in.

  “I said from the start you were powerful,” Corvin said, his eyes glittering as he studied her. “I wouldn’t put anything past you, once you had the faith in yourself to follow your own instinct.”

  Was that what it had been? Instinct? She had looked at a map and, knowing nothing about where he had gone down or what the water currents were like, had pointed to where he had been hospitalized. No amount of calling around to hospitals would have found him, because he wasn’t even there under his own name. They had tried their best to hide him.

  Who had? Corvin?

  He didn’t seem upset by her discovery. But why would he? The binding spell held. She couldn’t do anything to prove that he was the warlock who had put the spell on Warren, couldn’t do anything to make him release the young man. Reg was no closer to being able to save Warren than she had ever been. He was still just as dead to Ling as he ever had been.

  “No drinks today?” Corvin asked.

  “You
got me out of bed. I don’t need a drink, and if you do, you can go to the bar and get one yourself.”

  He chuckled. “Feisty, aren’t you? Got out on the wrong side of the bed?”

  “I shouldn’t be out of bed at all. I’m exhausted. You have no idea how tiring it is to maintain a connection with Warren.”

  Or did he?

  “I won’t keep you, then,” Corvin said. “But I would like to hear about what you found. Where was he? Could he tell you what had happened to him? I take it this information about the binding spell comes from the two witches?”

  “Yes. I wouldn’t know a binding spell if it hit me in the face. Well, maybe now I would, but I wouldn’t have before today.”

  His eyes were narrow. “You still haven’t told me where he was.”

  “And I don’t think I will.”

  “I’ll bet I could convince you.” He was leaning forward in his seat. His voice was soft and seductive. Reg caught her breath. She looked around for Starlight. At her look, he marched across the room toward them.

  “What do you think he is going to do?” Corvin challenged.

  “I don’t know. But I’ll bet you do. You know more about this stuff than I do.”

  “I won’t do anything,” Corvin said, shifting so that he was leaning against the couch, leaning away from her. “I’m just sitting here having a civilized chat.”

  Starlight jumped up onto Reg’s lap. She petted him and he stared at Corvin.

  “I’ll bet you always had cats while you were growing up,” Corvin suggested. “I can just see you curled up on a hammock with a book and a cat, whiling away the summer.”

  Reg snorted. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “No? Really?”

  “If you’re supposed to have psychic powers, I’m sorely disappointed. No cat, no hammock, and no whiling away my summers.”

  “Did I at least get the book right?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t read for pleasure.”

  “Hm.” He rubbed his short beard, looking thoughtful. Reg saw it for what it was, an act. An attempt to make her think that he was relaxed and unfazed by recent events, when really he was concerned. “You’re an enigma, Reg Rawlins.”

  Reg covered a yawn, unable to restrain it. “A tired enigma. I think you’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  “Yes. You will.” He didn’t seem inclined to leave.

  “Do I need to call the old crone to get rid of you? Or just sic the cat on you?” Reg slid her hands under Starlight, as if getting ready to launch him at Corvin.

  “No need,” Corvin held his hands up in surrender.

  Starlight twisted suddenly to nip at Reg, making her jerk back and let him go.

  “Testy, testy,” Corvin teased Starlight, earning himself a dark-eyed glare.

  But Corvin got up and headed toward the door without pushing Reg any further. “You’re coming to my place tomorrow, right?”

  So there would be no cats to protect her? Was that what he was thinking? Reg was pretty sure that she had told Corvin to meet her at the cottage.

  “I’m thinking maybe we should meet on neutral ground,” she countered. She gathered from his behavior that she had to invite him in for him to enter without consequences. Maybe because Sarah had put up some ward. And if she had, maybe Reg should let the ward do what it was intended to and not override it.

  She was definitely not going to his place.

  He couldn’t do anything to her if they were out in public, like when they had met at The Crystal Bowl.

  Corvin seemed disappointed, but not particularly surprised. “The more you retreat, the more I pursue,” he said softly, leaning toward her again.

  Starlight growled and hissed, unsheathing his sharp claws into Reg’s legs. Reg winced and tried to focus on her cat instead of the warlock.

  “Yes, you’re right,” she told Starlight. “We’re both tired and it’s time for bed.”

  Corvin eyed her. Reg got up, still holding the cat, and started walking toward the door. “Time for you to go.”

  He got up, face a tight mask, and swept after her. He drew the coat close, as if he were cold, and looked her up and down one last time before leaving.

  “You are a fascinating woman, Regina.”

  With that, he slipped through the door and disappeared quickly into the darkness.

  ⋆ Chapter Eighteen ⋆

  Reg had hoped that she would be able to come to some kind of conclusion while she slept. It had often been the case that she would go to sleep with a problem on her mind, and when she woke up in the morning, she would have a solution, or at least the beginning of one. Since her first session with Ling, she had been thinking and dreaming of Warren, and she had hoped that when she fell into sleep, she would have a dream that would reveal the path that she should go. The memories that he had provided her with would all be miraculously sorted and put in order, so that she could pick out all of the important clues.

  But that didn’t happen. She awoke in the morning feeling groggy and unrested, with the pictures in her head just as murky and confused as ever. She showered and dressed and put on the coffee machine, hoping to bring some clarity, but none of it helped.

  “Maybe I should go for a walk,” she said to Starlight. “Sometimes that helps.”

  He nudged her and rubbed against her, begging for food. With a sigh, Reg opened a can of tuna. She had sworn she wouldn’t spoil him, but he had to have something to eat. The smell of the tuna had Starlight just about climbing straight up the cupboard. Reg thought about Erin and her cat, Orange Blossom. And about years ago when Reg and Erin had been teenagers, and opening a can of tuna in the house was practically a guarantee that Erin would be racing for the bathroom and puking, her sensitive nose a curse to everyone in the family.

  Sometimes, Reg thought she would have preferred an overdeveloped sense of smell to psychic sensitivity or a wild imagination, whichever it was she had been blessed with. She sniffed the tuna, which didn’t bother her a bit, even first thing in the morning, and put a bowl down for Starlight. He immediately thrust his nose into it as if he’d been starved for days, purring loudly.

  The doorbell rang. Reg looked at her phone. A little early for callers, unless it was Sarah. And Sarah didn’t ring the bell, she just knocked and entered. The doorbell was immediately followed by loud, purposeful knocking.

  Reg looked at Starlight, who looked up with his ears back at the violence of the rapping.

  “I know that sound,” Reg told Starlight, her heart sinking.

  The first volley of knocks was immediately followed by a second, and a shout through the door. “Open up, Miss Rawlins!”

  Reg went reluctantly to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open.

  Detective Jessup stood there, hand on hip, looking as intimidating as possible for her small frame. She had a male partner who hadn’t been with her on her previous visit, a few inches taller and twice as broad, his face red and sweat on his forehead even in the cool of the morning.

  “Regina Rawlins,” Jessup pronounced Regina like the Canadian city, “You’re to come with us, please.”

  Reg didn’t move. She looked them over, trying to read their faces. “What’s this about?”

  “We’ll discuss it at the station.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Reg said slowly. She tightened her fingers on the door like she was going to close it. Jessup put her heavy shoe in the door.

  “Ma’am, I think you’d better cooperate.”

  “I haven’t heard you say I’m under arrest.”

  “No,” Jessup said grudgingly, “but you are wanted for questioning.”

  “In what?”

  Jessup just stared at her.

  “Come in to the police station, and we’ll get it all straightened out,” her partner advised. Reg and Jessup both glared at him, and he got still redder.

  “I don’t think so,” Reg countered. “I know my rights, and I don’t have to go anywhere. If y
ou want me to cooperate, then you’re going to have to act like a human being and try communication.”

  “You’re wanted for questioning in connection with the disappearance of Ling Lau.”

  Reg felt lightheaded. “What?”

  She lost her grip on the door. Jessup grabbed her by the arm, but she wasn’t dragging Reg off to the police station, she was helping to hold Reg up and get her inside. Jessup’s partner took the other arm and together they walked her into her living room and gently deposited her on the couch.

  “Are you okay?” Jessup asked. “Take deep breaths. Do you want a glass of water?”

  Reg shook her head. “I don’t know. What happened? Ling is missing?”

  “She was reported missing by her family this morning. The last place they knew she was going was to see you, and we already know what kind of an operation you’re running out of here.”

  “She was here,” Reg agreed. She was gasping, unable to draw a deep breath like Jessup had instructed. “I talked to her. Then she left. She was going to see…” Reg trailed off as she thought about it. Ling had gone to see Warren, who was supposed to be dead and was being held in a binding spell by someone with magical powers, and then she had disappeared? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened. Reg swore softly.

  “What is it?” Jessup demanded. “What do you know?”

  “Oh, no… they got her too.”

  “Who got her?”

  “I don’t know…”

  Reg blinked, trying to see through the fog, and saw Jessup roll her eyes at her partner. Had he even introduced himself? Reg was too wrecked to even squint at his name bar. He was too far away and it looked like a lot of letters.

  “So you think she’s been kidnapped by some unknown party,” Jessup summarized. “I’m so glad you were able to clear that up for us.”

  Reg moaned. She covered her eyes, resting her elbows on her knees. “You’re not going to believe any of this.”

  “Thanks for the warning. Now get talking.”

  “I don’t know what to say… why did I let her go by herself? I should have sent her with… the others.”