Shirley Murphy - Cat Deck the Halls

Now, as she finished her shopping and left the market, wheeling her loaded cart, she paused beside the newsstand, the headline of the Molena Point Gazette catching her eye. So that was what the sirens were about, last night.

COPS CONVERGE ON PLAZA CHRISTMAS TREE POSSIBLE MURDER? NO BODY FOUND

She scanned as much of the article as she could see above the fold. She was damned if she’d buy a paper; they paid for newspaper delivery. It was terrible to think of a murder at Christmastime. The circumstances sickened her-to kill or wound a man beneath a Christmas tree. She frowned, reading the strange details. Blood, but no body. Maybe the victim had been injured, but had gotten away. Except, the paper said, there had been a witness; someone had seen a body.

But could that be a hoax? A false report? Maybe the blood wasn’t that of a person at all. Animal blood? That thought didn’t comfort her.

The police wouldn’t have had any lab information last night, when the paper went to press. Maybe…A hundred conjectures ran through Cora Lee’s mind, and with them, the coldness. Hoax or not, this was ugly. Death, violence, the defiling of Christmas. Ugly, when there should be only love.

She was loading her groceries in the trunk when a squad car pulled into the parking slot next to her, and Juana Davis gave her a yawning “good morning.”

“You’ve been up all night,” Cora Lee said.

Juana nodded. “Most of it.”

Cora Lee looked at the little girl huddled in a blanket, in the front seat next to the detective, crowded up next to the complicated console, as close to Juana as she could get. A little girl with eyes darker even than Juana’s eyes, black as obsidian in such a thin, white little face. Long, ebony hair framing her milk-white skin. And such a sad expression that Cora Lee longed to pick her up and hold and comfort her. The child’s eyes were filled with fear, as she pushed closer to the detective-eyes as wary as those of a wild creature.

“There was an incident last night in the plaza,” Juana said, scanning the half-empty parking lot.

“I saw the paper.”

“The paper doesn’t mention this little girl, but she was part of it. We found her hiding in the plaza, pretty scared. Blood on her clothes. The call came in from an unidentified informant who saw the child at the scene with the body. Max kept that out of the paper.”

Cora Lee nodded. The child had said no word, she only watched Juana. Juana’s eyes told Cora Lee that the officer hated talking about the little girl in front of her, as if she weren’t there, told her it couldn’t be helped.

Cora Lee wondered if the child did not speak English. Or if, perhaps, she couldn’t speak at all.

“We have no identification, no idea who the man was, or who this young lady is. She came home with me last night.” Juana waited a moment, watching Cora Lee. “We don’t want to take her to Children’s Services.”

“Of course you don’t.” Cora Lee had heard plenty about situations with various child welfare departments from Lori Reed. She looked at Juana’s dark eyes, the detective’s sternness gone now. “You need somewhere for her to stay.”

“We’re not sure, yet.” Juana held the child’s small white hand. “Maybe for a few hours. There’d be an officer with her.”

“We have plenty of room for both of them to stay. Susan’s in San Francisco for the holidays. Mavity and Gabrielle and Lori and I are just rattling around, and my cousin Donnie is downstairs. We’d love to have any officer you send, two if you like. We’d really love to have another child for the holidays.”

“Overnight might not be safe, for any of you. But for a few hours, so she could spend some time with Lori and Dillon, and play with the dogs. She loves animals-cats, at least. When we found her last night she was snuggled right up to Clyde ’s cat and the Greenlaw cat.”

“The dogs would be thrilled to have someone to play with. Lori and Dillon have been so busy on their contest entry they’ve had no time to roughhouse with them. And of course the girls would love to have her.” Leaning down, Cora Lee looked in at the child. “I think our guest might be the first one to test out the new playhouse.” She smiled. “Would you like that?” Then, to Juana, “Would you like to come on up now? I’m headed home.”

“On my way,” Juana said. “If you’re sure you’re comfortable with this.”

“I’m sure,” Cora Lee said. “Our dogs are good protection, they can be fierce, when someone threatens.” She looked at the child again. “And yesterday evening, Mavity baked pumpkin pies.”

Juana laughed. “You know my weakness. I won’t follow you, I’ll take another route.”

Cora Lee, swinging into her car and heading up the hills, glanced in her rearview mirror to see Juana’s white Chevy leave the parking lot, turning in the opposite direction. But when she pulled into her drive, the squad car was already there. Down the street two neighbors were out in their yards, looking, making Cora Lee smile. Every time a squad car showed up at their house, she’d see a neighbor or two peering out, and that highly amused Cora Lee and her housemates-though most of the neighbors knew of their friendships within the department, there had been one time that was serious police business, and some folks preferred to remember the unpleasantness. That case, Cora Lee thought uneasily, had also involved children.

But nothing would happen to this little girl, not with police protection, and two big dogs on guard. Parking in the drive, she made two trips into the house loaded down with grocery bags while Juana sat in the squad car talking in a one-sided conversation with the little girl, until at last the child seemed willing to get out. Across the yard, Donnie was at work on the garden wall he was building along the side of the property.

It seemed a very cold day to be mixing mortar, but maybe that didn’t matter. As Juana helped the child out of the car, Donnie turned away, heading for his truck. Cora Lee went on into the kitchen to put away her groceries, leaving the door unlocked behind her.

Soon Juana and the little girl came into the kitchen hand in hand, Juana letting the child take her time. Cora Lee thought the dogs were in their fenced yard, in the back, but when the big poodle and the Dalmatian heard a strange voice, they came racing through the house. The child shrank against Juana, and Juana lifted her up, to make her feel more secure. Cora Lee grabbed the dogs’ collars, telling them to sit and stay.

It had taken several months for Susan Brittain’s three housemates to learn to handle the dogs properly and insist they respond to commands, but the training sessions had paid off. As the dogs sat obediently, avidly watching the child, the little girl looked down at them, big-eyed-and the next minute she struggled out of Juana’s arms, straight to them; Lamb, the big chocolate poodle, surged forward, and then the child and dogs were all over one another, the dogs licking and whining, the frail, silent little girl hugging and hugging them.

Juana stood close over her for a moment, in case of trouble, but then she looked up at Cora Lee, grinning, and backed off-and the women watched with wonder the child’s transformation from a terrified and shrinking little being to a vibrant and lively creature. Still silent, but very much more alive.

“She needs animals, all right,” Cora Lee said.

“She only trusts the animals.”

The two women sat at the kitchen table with coffee and pumpkin pie. There was milk and pie for the child, but the little girl wouldn’t sit down, she wanted only to play with the dogs.

“That was your cousin who just pulled out?”

“Donnie, yes. He’s been working on the garden, building plastered garden walls, the way we’ve planned for so long. He laid the new stone walks, too.”