Leann Sweeney - The Cat, The Professor and the Poison

My three weren’t sleeping as I’d expected. Chablis and Merlot were crouched nose to nose, staring down at something between them-what, I couldn’t tell. Syrah circled them, he, too, intent on whatever they’d captured this time. Maybe that spider had given birth before they killed it and my house was now infested. Sheesh. I didn’t need this right now.

I disconnected from the feed and speed-dialed Candace. She sounded tired when she answered-I remembered then that she’d told me she had to go in on the evening shift this afternoon. She told me she was at Belle’s Beans getting a coffee fix. No criminal activity was happening in Mercy at the present time, and she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Man, I envied her that coffee.

When I told her about the professor and what I’d seen, she said, “That’s horrible. I’ll call this in to county animal control right now. I can’t promise they’ll move quickly, though. They’ve got one guy.”

“ Chester, right?” I said. “Shawn won’t be happy.”

“Shawn knows there are steps we have to follow,” she answered, sounding more than a little irritated.

“Can’t you tell Chester this is an emergency? Because those cats sounded miserable.”

“You think that will make a difference to him?” she said. “Don’t repeat this, but my opinion of Chester matches Shawn’s.”

“Okay, tell Chester I’m about to call the Mercy Messenger. Animal stories like this one draw lots of media attention, and-”

“Jillian. Are you resorting to extortion?” She was definitely tired, and I’d pressed the wrong button.

“I won’t really do it,” I said quickly. “But you could tell him I will.”

“Oh. So I deliver the extortion message?” She sighed wearily. “All right. I’ll call you back.”

And she did. Seems Chester succumbed easily to threats of bad publicity. He would be meeting her at the property, which she’d already located on her police cruiser computer.

“Can I come with you?” I asked. “I promise I won’t get in your way.”

“Only if you stay in the car,” she said.

“Yes. Absolutely,” I answered.

“Pick you up in five,” she said.

She arrived at the sanctuary several minutes later, and she’d brought me a big cup of rich, dark coffee. I almost kissed her.

She gave me the once-over. “You look like you fell in a thicket.”

“Nothing a shower and a little Neosporin can’t fix.” I took the lid off the coffee so it would cool quicker, while Candace went inside the sanctuary to talk to Shawn.

I climbed into the passenger seat of the green and white squad car. When Candace returned and slid behind the wheel, she said she’d told Shawn to stay here and wait for a call from her or from Chester.

“Bet he liked that.” I sipped at my coffee. Man, I needed this, I thought.

“He did a quick computer check, and no cattery or kennel licenses have been issued for these parts in years. Looks like we do have cats in trouble. Again.”

We took off and ended up on a different road from the one leading to the other farms we’d been to in the last two days. I was grateful that Candace was driving more carefully. I could actually drink my hot coffee instead of wear it.

Chester had not yet arrived when we pulled up to a mailbox that bore the number 911. Prophetic, I thought. We might need a special 911 emergency number for cats in a little while.

Candace said, “We’ll wait on Chester. He gets paid to deal with these situations.” She parked the cruiser on the side of the road next to a driveway similar to Ruth’s and left the engine running.

No cow grate, I thought. That’s why Harriett had been able to leave and wander on home. “You mean situations that might be considered animal neglect?” I said.

“Right. Kinda makes me sick even to think about,” she said.

“My stomach’s been churning since I saw what’s going on here. Dirty outdoor runs. Unhappy cats. And some that might be in bad shape like the gray.” I checked my watch. Almost seven p.m., with the sun hanging below the tree line and painting the sky blood orange.

We waited in silence, the tension in the car as steady as the loud purr of the engine.

When Chester hadn’t arrived by seven twenty and he wasn’t answering his phone or his page, Candace finally spoke. “For pity’s sake, I can’t sit here forever waiting on this man.”

I felt the same way-anxious and worried.

Before Candace got out of the car, she pointed a finger at me. “I know you. You want to see if those cats are okay. But stay put. If the animal control wagon arrives, tell Chester I’ve gone to check this place out.”

“I’ve got a bad vibe, Candace. Let me go with you. My gut told me from the minute I met him that he’s got serious issues, and-”

She patted the weapon on her hip. “I have help right here.” Then Candace slipped from behind the wheel.

I called, “Be careful,” before she slammed the door.

Once she was out of sight, I shut off the air-conditioning and rolled down the window. The evening’s muggy warmth and the smell of jasmine engulfed me. On another day and another occasion, that combination might have been soothing. Not today.

I poured what was left of my coffee into the dirt. The coffee seemed only to have made my stomach feel worse. Candace had been thoughtful to bring me the boost I needed, but I would have preferred a purring Chablis in my lap. A purring cat helps me through any tough time.

I told myself that with Candace on the job, the cats would be taken care of. I should just calm down.

A mere thirty seconds passed before I realized I couldn’t calm down and was too restless to remain in the car. I turned off the engine, took the keys and began to pace at the end of the driveway. I heard the rumbling sound of an engine and looked out on the road. A white panel van sputtered by, and the driver waved his hand out the window as he passed. I waved back-that’s what you did in Mercy. But I was distracted by the situation at hand. I began to gnaw on my index fingernail. I was listening for cat cries. But I heard nothing. Maybe they were happier than the last time I’d been here-which seemed like a hundred years ago.

Or perhaps the breeze was carrying their pleading voices in the other direction. I ventured several steps down the curving, hedge- lined gravel driveway, hoping I could hear something-anything. Soon the peaked house came into view. White clapboard-or used to be white. More like gray now.

Still hearing nothing, of either the cat or the human variety, I edged closer to get a full view of the house.

And that’s when Candace bolted out through the front door, pressing the walkie-talkie she usually wore on her shoulder close to her mouth.

Her already pale skin was sickly white, and suddenly she dropped the walkie-talkie and fell to her knees.

She began to retch.

Iran to Candace and knelt beside her. “What’s wrong? Are there… d-dead cats?” I rubbed circles on her back, noting that sweat now dampened her brown and green uniform shirt.

She took a deep breath. “No. A dead professor. I’ve called for backup.”

My hand covered my mouth in shock, and I mumbled, “Oh no. Is it awful?”

“Yup. Pretty darn awful. But that’s not what made me sick. It’s all the raw meat. Looked like a hind quarter of beef on the counter.”

“Deep breath,” I said. “You’re hyperventilating.”

She closed her eyes and took in a huge breath, let it out slowly. “This is so stupid. But when I was a kid, my daddy used to make me lend a hand dressing the deer he shot. The last time he forced me into helping, I threw up on his shoes. That was the end of that.”