Leann Sweeney - The Cat, The Professor and the Poison

“He’s not working alone,” I said. “Tom, can you explain what you learned from the microchip?”

I wouldn’t have made sense if I tried to repeat the Pledge of Allegiance right now. My heart was hammering. John’s daughter was in that house with a cruel, desperate man, and I suddenly realized I felt as responsible for her as John once did. And just as worried as her biological mother would have been if she were standing in my shoes this minute. And where was Douglas Lieber? Was he in that house, too?

“I didn’t see that coming,” Candace was saying in response to Tom’s explanation. “Had my sights set on Hoffman as the only bad guy.”

Tom went on to tell Candace about Lieber getting a phone call and taking off.

“C-could Lieber be in there, too?” I said. My voice was tremulous.

“We won’t know until SWAT gets here,” she said. “But Deputy Dufner only saw three people in the house when he used his binoculars. Once Hoffman figured out we were here, he started staying low and away from the windows.”

I gripped Candace’s upper arm. “Please help her.”

Candace nodded solemnly. “I will. Promise. You and Tom wait in your car. And make sure you make room for SWAT to roll in.”

We both nodded, and Tom put his arm around me as we headed back to his car. But then I saw what was probably Evan’s rental as well as Kara’s car parked not far from the driveway. “Her gun,” I said. “Maybe she has it with her.”

“Ah, the gun. I warned her about that, too,” Tom said. “If she is armed, we need to tell Candace and the rest of the officers. She told me she knows how to shoot, but I’m guessing that means she’s had occasional target practice.”

“Let’s have a look in her car if Morris gives the okay.”

Morris said he was waiting for SWAT to brief them and couldn’t leave his position, that they were minutes away. But we could look in Kara’s car.

I wasn’t sure whether I was happy or upset to see that gun sitting in her glove compartment. Tom took it and checked the chamber.

“Not even loaded,” he said. “Wouldn’t have done her any good. We’ll just keep this safe.” He carried the gun flat against his thigh as we returned to the Prius. “Don’t want anyone going nuts if they see me with a gun. Those SWAT guys are pretty intense.”

He set it on my lap when we climbed back in the car. I held up my hands, not wanting to touch the thing.

“It’s not loaded. You need to get over your fear of weapons. I can teach you how to shoot when this whole thing is over. For now, just hold it. Get used to it.”

My heart wouldn’t quit pounding, especially now that I had a gun in my lap. Those two in that house had to get out alive. They had to.

“Come on, Jillian. Just touch the gun,” Tom said.

It felt heavy on my lap, heavier than it looked. I put a hand on top of it. No big deal, I thought. Just a hunk of metal.

A few seconds later the SWAT truck rumbled by us. It came to an abrupt stop right in front of Morris.

“Thank God,” I whispered.

But then something caught my eye in the woods beyond the ditch we’d parked next to. A white cat was trying to climb a tree, its hair standing on end with fear. But it couldn’t seem to do what all cats are good at-climb that tree.

“I have to help that cat.” I opened the door and headed for the woods. The ditch was deeper than I thought, and I nearly tripped but managed to keep my footing.

Why hadn’t I realized that some of the cats that had been released probably came back here? This was where they’d been fed, after all. We weren’t close to the house, so it wasn’t like trying to help a cat in trouble was dangerous.

“Jillian,” called Tom. “Come back.”

I turned and saw that he was following me, and following lots faster than he should have been. He’d scare the cat before I could rescue it. The cat fell down after yet another attempt to climb the tree. What was wrong with it? Weak from hunger, too?

Then something happened behind me; I heard Tom swear-very loudly. I spun and saw him lying in the ditch. I looked back at the cat and figured Tom needed my help more than the frightened white fur ball did.

But when I started back toward where he was groaning in pain, an arm reached around me from behind.

Not again.

But this person wasn’t Patrick Hoffman, as I’d feared. No, this person wasn’t nearly as strong. I gave my would-be attacker an elbow to the gut with all my might.

I heard a grunt as the assailant let go. I even heard him fall.

I didn’t even realize I had the gun with me. But what I did realize was that I’d dropped it when I’d elbowed the guy.

I whirled and saw Douglas Lieber scramble for the weapon. He got to it before I did. Then he stood and pointed it at me.

“You and your little police buddy have been more trouble than I ever needed. I’d shoot you right here, but I need leverage now that your friend in the ditch has seen me. You’re coming with me.”

I glanced back and saw Tom grimacing in pain and trying to crawl toward us. But those fifteen feet between us might as well have been a mile, and Tom knew that. He began shouting for Morris’s help.

Panic flitted across Lieber’s face. He said, “Come with me now.” He waved the gun back toward the thicker woods.

I didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Come on, idiot. Or you’re dead,” he said.

I held up my hands, stepped toward him. “You set this all up, even made it look like activists were the culprits, didn’t you? Set all those poor cats loose.”

His eyes hardened. “What if I did? You come with me, Jillian. Now.”

“No,” I said, taking another step closer. “I want you to look at me when you kill me-like you looked at the professor while he drank the strychnine. You must have slipped it into his drink. What did you do, tell him you’d come over to talk?” I took another step forward.

“I’ve killed two people, why not one more?” He squeezed the trigger at the same moment I kneed him hard between the legs. He collapsed, but he still held that gun and pointed it up at me. It didn’t seem to register with him that it wasn’t loaded, and he tried to fire it again. But the empty gun only clicked.

Two scary-looking black-clad SWAT officers were upon us all of a sudden, demanding that Lieber drop his weapon.

“It’s not even loaded,” I said.

Lieber complied, but not before giving me a venomous look.

I checked behind me, where Tom was being tended to by Morris. “Can I go to my friend?” I said as the officers laid Lieber on his stomach and pulled his hands behind him for the handcuffs.

“You’re sure you’re okay, ma’am?” one of them said.

“I’m fine.” I was beginning to understand why Candace said she loved her work. Kicking butt felt good. But I was worried about Tom.

The poor cat that started this whole thing had finally made it up to a low branch. I stopped on the way back to Tom and held my hand up. It rubbed against my fingers, and I said, “You stay there. I’m coming back for you.”

Then I hurried to where Tom lay. One of the paramedics was already at his side, and Morris was standing nearby, looking a little pasty. When I checked out Tom’s ankle, I saw why. Definitely broken, and sickening to look at.

I rested a palm against his cheek.

“You are a fool for cats,” he said, trying to laugh.

“I am so sorry.” I looked at the paramedic-I remembered meeting her once; her name was Diane. “Will he be okay?”

She was putting an air splint on Tom that resembled a boot. “He’ll be fine-after about six weeks.”

The SWAT officers were now taking Lieber to their truck. I stared up at Morris. “What about Kara and Evan?”