by Nic Saint
He blinked as water soaked him. And then suddenly Harriet rose into his field of vision. She looked at him with such an expression of concern he didn’t mind getting wet.
“Are you all right, snookums?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.
“I’m fine,” he said. “You saved me.”
“I realized something last night, snuggle pooh,” she said softly.
“What’s that?”
“That I love you too much to let this thing between us be over.”
“Oh, Harriet,” he said, a catch in his voice. “I’ve been such a fool. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I talked to Darlene. Last night in the park? She told me the truth. That you were a real gentlecat. And that you were never anywhere near her butt.”
“She said that?”
“Not willingly. I may have mentioned slashing her throat.”
He laughed. “Oh, honey muffin.”
“Oh, love bug.”
“You saved me!”
“That’s something else I realized. Ever since we broke up you keep getting yourself into these dangerous situations. At this rate you’re going to run out of your nine lives.”
“I know. I think I’m at my sixth or my seventh.”
“You need me, buttercup.”
“I do need you.”
“Without me you’re going to fall from a cliff and there won’t be a fat man to cushion your fall.”
“Or I’ll stumble into a duck pond and there won’t be Chase to save me.”
“Or you’ll be swallowed up by a sinkhole and I won’t be there to turn on the sprinklers.”
They gazed softly into each other’s eyes, and gently rubbed noses.
“It’s almost like Jack and Rose on Titanic,” Harriet giggled. “With all this water?”
“Only I have no intention of crawling off that raft,” said Brutus.
“There was plenty of space on that raft for Jack!” Harriet cried.
“Right?”
They were quiet, and as Harriet lay down next to him, they both enjoyed this rare summer shower. And the pleasure of each other’s company.
“A sinkhole,” muttered Brutus. “In the rosebushes? How is that even possible?”
“I know, right?”
They gazed at each other. “I do need you, Harriet.”
“And don’t you ever forget it.”
“I won’t.”
“Oh, sugar puff.”
“Oh, cuppy cake.”
“Oh, love angel.”
“Oh, wuggle bear.”
“Ugh,” a voice softly pronounced nearby.
Brutus recognized it as Dooley’s, and both he and Harriet laughed.
Chapter 34
Alec was so nice to take us to the hospital: Me and Dooley, and a waterlogged Brutus and Harriet, who, for some reason, had turned on the sprinklers in the backyard and had been enjoying a rain shower. At least they’d reconciled, and were suddenly all lovey-dovey again. So much so it was giving me a pain in the butt. Maybe that was the reason they fought in the first place, I suddenly realized: to enjoy that sweet reconciliation afterward.
“Now, I’m going to have to smuggle you into Odelia’s room,” Alec warned. “I don’t think they like it when cats come to visit, so you guys will have to be extra-quiet, all right?”
“All right, Uncle Alec,” we all sang in unison, even though he couldn’t understand.
He smiled. “You guys are the best.”
He’d arrived at the hospital and tucked us in two big, bulky plastic shopping bags. I hate being tucked into bags, but I was willing to make the sacrifice for Odelia’s sake.
“What’s going on with Harriet and Brutus?” I asked Dooley as we bumped up against each other while Uncle Alec carried us into the hospital. The police chief was panting. Hard. Apparently four cats are a lot of weight to carry.
“I think they finally got over the whole Darlene thing,” I said.
“Oh, so Harriet finally believes the perspective story?”
“It’s not a story. There was a matter of perspective. I really believe Brutus’s nose wasn’t anywhere near Darlene’s butt. Though from where I stood it definitely looked like it was.”
“From where I was standing it looked as if his nose was up her tail,” said Dooley, “but then my legs are shorter than yours.”
“See? Brutus was right. It’s all a matter of perspective.”
This reminded me of the murder case Odelia and Chase had successfully solved. Ringo had claimed his master was right next to him when Dany was killed, but was he? Maybe he’d thought he was, but just like with Darlene, it was a matter of perspective.
But then we were set down on the floor, the bag was zipped open, and we hopped out of the bag and found ourselves in a hospital room. At least it smelled like one. Phew.
Uncle Alec picked me up first and deposited me on Odelia’s bed, then did the same with the others. Odelia looked pale but alive, and she smiled weakly at the four of us.
“Hey, there, you guys. What happened, huh?”
“You conked your head on the bed,” I said. “And scared the living crap out of us.”
“I scared the living crap out of myself,” she said.
I suddenly noticed we weren’t alone in the room: Marge, Gran, Tex and Chase were all seated around Odelia’s sickbed. Chase was staring at me intently, and I realized he probably figured this whole talking cats thing was really weird. Like, really, really weird.
“You better don’t talk to Max too much, honey,” said Marge. “You should rest.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” said Odelia, then realized her words could be interpreted as a little macabre, and corrected herself. “I’ll sleep when you guys have left, I mean.”
“The doctor is keeping her overnight,” Marge explained for our sake. “He says she has a slight concussion.”
“Nothing on the MRI, though,” said Gran. “Which is a good thing,” she added.
“Right,” I said.
“I know what an MRI is,” said Dooley. “I watch General Hospital, remember?”
“Of course you do,” said Gran with a laugh.
They all laughed, except Tex and Chase and Alec, who weren’t in on the joke.
“Dooley says he watches General Hospital all the time,” Marge translated for the sake of the others. When Chase stared at her, she realized her mistake, and quickly shut up.
Too late, though, for Chase asked, “What’s going on here?”
Marge said, a little uncertainly, “Oh, nothing. Just messing around. We like to pretend we can talk to our cats. Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“Just a little game we play from time to time,” said Gran. “And of course those little furballs are big talkers and talk right back at us—isn’t that right, Maxie?”
She tickled my ear and I said, “I think you’re in big trouble now, Gran.”
“No, I’m not.”
Chase was frowning, but didn’t say anything.
“So what’s all this about you guys being attacked by the man in the yellow parka?” asked Odelia, a little hoarsely.
“Not now, honey,” said Marge. “You have to rest. In fact we should probably leave so you can get some more sleep.”
“Don’t leave. Just tell me what happened.”
“A flowerpot was thrown at me,” said Tex, his voice quaking with indignation. “Can you imagine? Someone actually tried to kill me with a flowerpot. I’m so upset right now.”
“And I slipped on a roller skate,” said Gran. “And I saw the guy who planted that skate. He was dressed in yellow—clearly the man in the yellow parka is working overtime.”
“And a piece of the pirate ship almost dropped on me,” said Marge.
“I checked the mast. It looks like it’s been tampered with,” said Uncle Alec gravely.
“So it’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Gran. “Someone is targeting this family, and they’re doing everything they can to murder us and make it look like
a string of accidents.”
“Remember how they tried to run over Brutus?” Tex reminded the others.
“I don’t know about this, you guys,” said Odelia, her eyelids slowly closing. “It all seems far-fetched to me. Besides,” she added, making an ultimate effort to open her eyes and look at her uncle Alec, “you have the man in the yellow parka locked up, haven’t you?”
“I have,” Alec confirmed.
“So the case is closed. End of story.”
“He’s still out there,” Gran insisted. “And he’s targeting us.”
“Wolf Langdon has a mole on his hand,” said Odelia, her eyes closing again. “Ringo says the man who killed Dany had a mole in the shape of an owl on his hand. Case... closed.”
And so were her eyes. And this time she’d fallen asleep.
“Who is Ringo?” asked Chase in a low voice.
Uncle Alec waved his hand. “Just a witness who’s come forward.”
Chase looked taken aback. “What witness? I don’t know anything about a new witness, and I’m supposed to be in charge of this investigation.”
Alec shrugged. “Ask Odelia.”
Chase looked at Odelia and sighed. “Thank God her cats were home. I can’t imagine her lying there all alone.”
One by one, Odelia’s family members got up and left the room, to allow her some peace and quiet. Knowing them, they’d all stay right there, not leaving her side until she was well enough to return home.
And the same went for me, Dooley, Brutus and Harriet.
Only we had the luxury of being able to sleep at the foot of her bed.
At least until the nurse came in and ushered us off the bed and onto a couch in the corner. “Cats don’t belong in hospitals,” she muttered darkly, but allowed us to stay anyway.
Chapter 35
In the hallway, Gran confronted Chase and her son. “I don’t get it. You people are supposed to protect us. You’re cops, for crying out loud. Your family is being targeted and you do nothing?”
“We’ve arrested the man in the yellow parka,” said Alec, but he blinked under Gran’s intense scrutiny.
“That just goes to show you arrested the wrong man. Cause the man in the yellow parka is still out there, and he’s trying to kill us all. First Tex, then me and Marge. And it wouldn’t surprise me if this man in the yellow parka didn’t sneak into Odelia’s room last night and planted that rug for her to slip on.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Alec.
“Odelia never trips and falls. And now she does? Just when the rest of this family is attacked? I don’t think so.” She poked a hole in Chase’s chest. “And where were you when all this was going down, sonny boy?”
“I, um, was at the station interrogating Wolf Langdon, ma’am,” said Chase. At least he didn’t avert his eyes like Alec, who’d gone all weaselly under Gran’s furious glances.
“Well, you better interrogate him again, cause as far as I’m concerned, he’s probably the leader of a gang of yellow parka men, operating all across town, and trying to get this family to die!”
She stalked off, feeling she’d said her piece and now it was up to the law enforcement people to do their jobs for a change.
Marge and Tex were seated in the waiting area, Marge nursing a cup of coffee, while Tex was checking something on his phone.
“My patients will need a replacement doctor while I’m in here,” he explained when Gran sat down. “I’ve arranged for Dr. Rübler-Koss to take my place for the moment.”
“Rübler-Koss? Isn’t she specialized in palliative care?”
He shrugged. “She’s a perfectly capable physician and she’s stood in for me before.” He placed the phone in his lap and rubbed his eyes. “Poor Odelia. I can’t stop thinking about how if we’d been there half an hour later she might have suffered even worse.”
“I just told off Alec and Chase. It doesn’t do for them to twiddle their thumbs down at the police station while all of us are being hunted down by this bunch of maniacs!”
“Bunch of maniacs?” asked Marge. “You think there’s more than one?”
“Of course! Just think, honey. He was in the house across the street when Tex was attacked with a highly lethal projectile.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call a flowerpot a lethal projectile,” Tex protested.
“I would. Now shut up and listen to your mother-in-law for a change. Meanwhile, he was preparing a trap across the street. How is that possible? How can one man be in two places at the same time? Answer: he can’t. Which means there’s more than one attacker.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the more I think about this, the more I’m convinced there’s probably three or four, and that doesn’t even include the ringleader, who’s in prison right now. Though ringleader is probably a big word. If he allowed himself to be caught that easily, he’s probably an amateur. The ringleader is probably the one who came for Odelia.”
“It was a rug, Mom,” said Marge. “Anyone can trip over a rug.”
“Not Odelia,” she said decidedly. “Odelia never trips over any rugs. No, that rug was definitely tampered with. So what we need is CSI. We need Gil Grissom and we need him now. Only Gil Grissom can figure out how they managed to tamper with that rug. Plus, Gil Grissom can probably lift fingerprints and DNA and whatnot from that rug, identifying the bastard who tried to kill our Odelia.”
“I don’t think even Gil Grissom could find fingerprints on an IKEA rug,” said Tex, and Gran thought she detected a note of sarcasm in his voice.
She did not respond well to sarcasm, so she snapped, “Less lip from you, and more cooperation, Captain Underpants.”
Tex frowned, and glanced down to where Gran was pointedly looking. Indeed: his underpants were showing just above the waistline of his beige slacks. “Must have snapped my belt when I jumped away from that flowerpot,” he muttered, hoisting up his pants.
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating, Mom?” asked Marge. “I’m not even sure a roller skate is a real murder weapon. Or a flowerpot for that matter.”
“They are, and you better get with the program, missy. This gang uses everyday objects as murder weapons. They’re like the MacGyver of killers. Besides, you just had a pirate boat drop on your head. Or do you think a sawn-off mast isn’t a murder weapon either?”
She had Marge there. “Yes, that is odd,” she admitted. “But who would do this? Who would target us?”
“I don’t know but I’m going to find out,” said Gran, darting nasty glances at Chase and Alec as they strolled into the waiting room. “Cause it’s obvious to me that those two humpty dumpties would rather let us die than pull their heads out of their asses and lift a finger.”
Just then, the doctor in charge of Odelia’s recovery strode in. Dressed in his white coat, he looked particularly handsome, Gran thought. He was one of those hot young doctors you only see on medical shows, and she instantly took a shine to him. Though she knew from experience handsome young doctors were all hiding secrets. Like an evil twin. Or a fraudulent degree from a fake university. Or even a third nipple in a really weird place.
“Good news,” said the handsome young doctor as he addressed his audience. “Odelia will make a full recovery. We found nothing alarming on the MRI scan and there’s no swelling of the brain, no contusion, nothing to indicate any lasting damage. I would like to keep her overnight just to make sure, but apart from that, I’m positive she’ll be just fine.”
“Oh, thank God,” said Marge, bringing her hands to her face. Tears were falling like dewy rain, and Gran didn’t wonder. She herself had experienced a twinge of dread when she saw her beloved granddaughter in such a terrible state.
“She was lucky,” the doctor acknowledged. “If she’d fallen even one centimeter to the left or to right, things could have been a lot worse.” He turned to Uncle Alec. “Odelia told me this was an accident?”
“It was,” said Alec, giving Gran a look of defiance.
“It wasn’t,” Gran instantly shot back
. “My granddaughter was attacked in her own home by the notorious Yellow Parka MacGyver Gang, and the members of this gang have yet to be caught. All the while, the police are doing nothing to stop the carnage. Nothing!”
The handsome young doctor frowned. “That’s very disturbing. I hope you catch this… Yellow Parka MacGyver Gang before they cause more harm.”
Alec pressed his lips together. He clearly wasn’t happy with Gran’s intervention.
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Gran. She tapped her chest. “I’ll catch them. Because when the people paid to protect the citizens of this community fail to do their job, it’s up to us to take matters into our own hands and go after the bastards ourselves.”
The doctor gave her a puzzled look, then nodded. “Well, then. I’ll keep you all informed of Odelia’s progress. In the meantime, you can join her again. But don’t keep her up. What she needs right now is rest, rest, and more rest.”
And with these words, he was off at a brisk trot.
“What are you up to, Ma?” asked Alec, a note of ice in his voice.
“I’m going to catch the bastards, just like I said. Cause if they tried to kill her once, they’ll try again—and I promise you I’ll be there when they do, and I’ll strike them down with my fist of fury!” She shook her bony fist to emphasize her words and walked off.
Chapter 36
Alec and Chase stood conferring by the vending machine. Alec was nursing a styrofoam cup of watery coffee, wondering why the brew in these places always tasted like sewage.
“What do you make of Vesta’s wild accusations?” Chase asked.
Alec shook his head. “You know what my mother is like.” He just hoped she wouldn’t go out and start some kind of private vigilante search for this gang of men in yellow parkas.
