Shirley Murphy - Cat to the Dogs

Wilma trailed to the bathroom, snatched up a towel, and tossed it to the bedroom floor. Joe, giving her a sour look, rolled on the terry cloth until he was relatively dry, then leaped to the bed.

"Why are you out in the rain?" Dulcie said. "You weren't hunting, on a night like this."

"I took a little jaunt by Cara Ray's motel, after you said she wasn't at Lucinda's for supper." He licked a few swipes across his shoulder.

Wilma shoved the cookie plate in his direction. He took one in his teeth, crunching it with pleasure, dropping crumbs. The quilt was due for a washing; this was why Wilma liked washable furnishings, so she and the cats could enjoy, and not fuss.

"So what did you see?" Dulcie said. "Was that Sam person there at her motel?"

"No. Nor Cara Ray, either. I nearly drowned climbing up to the roof, nearly broke my neck on those wet, slick shutters, slipping down to Cara Ray's window. Lucky someone didn't find me smashed on the pavement below, lying in the gutter broken and my poor cat lungs full of water. All I got for my trouble was a cold bath, and a view of Cara Ray's messy motel room.

"I waited for maybe an hour, thinking she might bring him back with her, and the rain pounding against the windows like shotgun blasts. Where would they go on a night like this? So damned wet-couldn't get a claw into anything."

"You haven't been home?" Dulcie said.

"I was home for dinner. Why?"

"Clyde didn't say anything?"

"About what?"

"Clyde was arrested."

Joe stared at her. Stared at Wilma. "You're joking. There's no way Max Harper… Arrested for what? Who would arrest him? In what town? For speeding? Oh, that would-"

"Not for speeding," Wilma said. "For creating a public nuisance."

Joe settled down on the quilt, his yellow eyes fixed on Wilma. "What stupid thing has he done now?"

"Selig broke his collar," Wilma said.

"I told Clyde the pups had been chewing on each other's collars," Joe said, "the whole time they were together."

"Clyde was walking the pups down Ocean," Wilma said, "when a big Harley came roaring around the corner. The pups went crazy, hit the end of their leads bellowing, and Selig kept on going, chasing the Harley and baying like a bloodhound-and Clyde chasing him, dragging Hestig through traffic, yelling and swearing."

Joe Grey smiled, his yellow eyes slitted with pleasure.

"A squad car came around the corner," Wilma said, "following the roar of the Harley." In Molena Point, motorcycles were just as strictly forbidden as were unleashed canines.

"Another black-and-white screamed down Ocean, and when they got the Harley cornered, Selig and Hestig and Clyde were right in the middle, Clyde trying to hold Hestig and slip the other leash around Selig's neck."

Wilma smiled. "All of this in front of the Patio Cafe, and half the village looking on." She and Clyde had been close friends forever-if she had a little laugh at his expense, he'd had plenty of laughs at hers. "My friend Nora was waiting tables and had a ringside view. Those two rookies that Harper just hired-they don't know Clyde."

"They arrested him," Joe Grey said, rumbling with purrs.

Wilma nodded. "Arrested him while the pups had him tangled in the leash."

Dulcie looked from one to the other, half amused, half feeling sorry for Clyde.

"Clyde got himself untangled," Wilma said, "but Selig wouldn't let the rookies near the Harley. The puppy seemed to think that he had caught the cycle, and they had no right to it. He stood guarding it, snarling like a timber wolf, and Clyde trying to pull him away.

"One of the rookies stepped into the cafe and bought a prewrapped beef sandwich. He distracted Selig with that until his partner could lock the Harley driver in a squad car. Ordinarily, a rookie wouldn't be assigned alone to a unit, but there was some kind of changeover at the station."

Wilma settled back against the cushions, and for a long, perfect moment, she and the cats envisioned Clyde Damen in the backseat of a black-and-white, confined behind the wire barrier.

"Nice," Joe Grey said. "Wait until I lay this one on him."

"He didn't mention it?" Dulcie asked.

"Silent as a mummy in the tomb." He looked at Wilma. "So what happened when they got to the station? Did you talk to Harper, get a blow-by-blow?"

"When rookie Jimmie McFarland tried to get the pups out of the unit, they set their feet and wouldn't come.

"McFarland had saved back a little of the sandwich. He bribed them out with that. But when he got them into the station, Selig took a look at all those nice uniforms and began to bark and leap in the officers' faces, kissing everyone. And Hestig grabbed McFarland's field book, raced around the station with it, dodging anyone who got close.

Wilma smiled. "When the dispatcher called the dog catcher, that's when Clyde began to shout."

Joe Grey rolled on his back, laughing.

"At about that time," Wilma said, "Harper came in the back door, saw McFarland tackle Selig, saw Officer Blake trying to corner Hestig. Harper grabbed Selig by the nape of the neck, shook him, and turned on Clyde as if he'd shake him, too."

Dulcie's purr bubbled into laughter. Joe lay grinning, thinking about what he'd have to say to Clyde.

"Before Harper could get them sorted out, Selig jerked loose from him, snatched a sheaf of reports from Officer Blake's desk, and ran off chewing on them. Three officers caught him but, without a collar, he slipped free of them-snatched Lieutenant Brennan's ham sandwich, then grabbed the photo officer's reflex camera. The officer tackled him, rescued his camera, stood cradling it like a baby. Harper was so mad, he told me, and was laughing so hard, that he could feel tears."

"And I missed it all," Joe said. "The event of the-"

A tremor shook the bed. Joe leaped up. Dulcie rose into a wary crouch. Wilma's cup rattled in its saucer.

But then the room was still again.

They waited, but no second jolt hit. The three friends looked at each other, and shrugged. A second later, the phone rang.

Wilma picked up, listened, then pressed the speaker button.

Lucinda's voice was weak and unsteady. "… he's… I'm at the hospital. He's hurt, Wilma. Broken arm, some broken ribs. He was soaking wet and so cold, shivering. I only hope… I don't know how long he lay there, in the cold and rain."

Wilma leaned close to the phone's speaker. "Start at the beginning, Lucinda. Tell me what happened. Take it slowly, please."

"The police found him-not our police," Lucinda said. "The highway patrol. They-in the dark. Pedric was lying halfway down Hellhag Hill. Someone…" Lucinda's voice shook "Someone tried…"

"How would they find him in the dark and rain? What were they doing… Never mind. I'll come. Who's the doctor?"

"Dr. Harliss."

"I'll be there." Wilma slipped out of bed. "I'll be…"

"No. Don't come here. I'm… I'll stay with him. Go there. Go to Hellhag Hill. Find out… Talk to the police. Find out who-what happened."

"But…"

"Hurry, while they're still there. Please find out what happened."

"But they won't be…"

"They'll still be there. I came away in the ambulance. They were still there, seeing to Newlon."

"Newlon?"

"Newlon's dead. They found him lying on the highway in the rain. Please find out, Wilma." Her voice shook. "Find out who killed Newlon, and tried to kill Pedric."

Wilma hung up the phone and sat looking at the cats. "First, Chambers is stabbed. Now, another man in the hospital, and a man dead. And all of them," she said, "connected to Shamas Greenlaw."

Swinging out of bed, she snatched up some clothes and slipped into the bathroom to wash and dress. Within minutes, she and the cats were headed for Hellhag Hill, Joe and Dulcie staring out through the rain-soaked windows, shivering in the cavernous, cold car.