Shirley Murphy - Cat Breaking Free

"What?" Max said. Though his back was to the wall, his view in toward the dining room was partially blocked by the ferns.

"Chichi Barbi and Roman Slayter. They met in front of the courthouse while I was waiting for you. I didn't know they knew each other."

Ryan said, "I didn't either; but they're a perfect match." "Maybe Slayter will keep her occupied," Clyde said hopefully. "I wonder if she's a pickup."

"I don't think so," Charlie said. "They know each other well enough to be arguing, she seemed really angry."

"How long were they there?" Dallas asked. "Could you hear any of it?"

"Only that he didn't like meeting in that particular location." Charlie studied Dallas. He nodded offhandedly, and said no more.

Max asked for the French bread and sipped his O'Doul's. He didn't seem interested in what Chichi Barbi did or who she met. He seemed, Charlie thought, strangely miffed at Dallas for his own interest.

But he could be annoyed over anything, could have had a bad morning. Some small problem in the department. Both men seemed edgy.

"They're still arguing," Ryan said with interest. "They do know each other well."

"I'd like to be a fly on the wall," Charlie said. She thought Chichi could be really attractive with less makeup and better taste in clothes. She longed to know what they were talking about.

But even as she wondered, she saw that a spy was already on the scene.

Crouched between two tall pots of ferns beside Roman and Chichi's table, the kit, with her dark fur, was nearly lost among the fern's lacy shadows. How intensely she was watching them, ears sharp, tail very still, her whole being fixed on the couple- as intent as if she were crouched over a mouse hole.

The tiles beneath Kit's paws felt smooth and cool. The potted ferns helped hide her; their shadows blended with her darkly mottled coat, providing a nice disguise. But the restaurant's delicious smells distracted her, made her want to leap onto the next table, into the middle of that broiled lobster or into that great brimming bowl of meaty spaghetti. It took all her strength to resist. But then the conversation directly above her became so fascinating that she forgot her hunger.

"That time in L.A. was hard on you," Roman Slayter was saying. He was very handsome, lean and tall, his dark short hair blow-dried just so, and those gorgeous brown eyes-like a movie star, Kit thought. Yet he scared her.

"I'm glad to be out of that friggin' town," Chichi said. "I'm never going back there, damn L.A. cops are a bunch of hoods."

Slayter's voice turned serious and gentle. "I know you miss him, Chichi. We all do."

"They murdered him! Damn cops murdered him-friggin' cops never pay for what they do. Cheap, lying Gestapo. 'Line of duty,' my ass. He wasn't in the damn bank, no way they could put him there!"

Slayter gave a sympathetic murmur, patting her hand and looking around them like he hoped no one was listening. Quietly he sipped his wine as the waiter appeared with a bowl of French-fried onion rings. Their scent made Kit's claws itch with a powerful need to snatch a pawful. Slayter took some onion rings onto his bread plate and sat munching one, watching Chichi; Kit could not read his expression. She wouldn't want to be trapped with this man. If she were a human lady, she'd stay away from Roman Slayter.

"Never even had a proper funeral," Chichi said. "Stuffed in that vault like a side of meat." She looked up accusingly at Slayter. "And everyone ran, saved your own skins. You vanished quick enough, Slayter."

"What could we do, Chichi? Get ourselves killed? You didn't hang around!"

"Luis dragged me! Luis…"

"Bank guards and cops all over. What the hell could we do but run?"

Kit's heart was pounding. Slayter was part of that gang with the two men Joe Grey saw in Chichi's room. A gang that had robbed an L.A. bank, and the village jewelry store.

Roman stroked Chichi's hand. "Why did you come up here with us? Frank was dead. You could have…"

"I guess I came because Frank would have. I guess," Chichi said softly, "I just did what Frank would do."

Kit itched to find a phone. Captain Harper and Detective Garza needed to know about this. Chichi had started to cry- the kind of crying when a person doesn't want to talk about something, when a woman hides her silence with tears and most men think they're real tears. "And… I didn't have any money. That's part of why I came. Nowhere else to go. That's why I found that house-sitting job, a free place to live. I didn't want to stay up there with Luis…" She looked at Roman. "I'm still pretty broke, Roman. Could you…?"

"I have men in place, Chichi. Rent to pay, food. Those guys don't live on air!"

Chichi reached to stroke his cheek. "But you're living in a nice place, the Gardenview is really nice, I could stay with you. It wouldn't…"

"It's a tiny room, Chichi. The cheapest they had. And right now…" Roman shook his head. "Wouldn't work. You're better off where you are."

He had men in place? Rent to pay, and food? What men? A whole gang of men? And why was Chichi so interested in moving in with him?

To get in his bed? Was she feeling like a queen in heat? Kit thought, shocked. Or did she want to snoop, search his room? Kit's imagination soared, she could hardly be still. She had to tell Captain Harper, had to tell him now.

She looked across the dining room into the patio where Captain Harper and Detective Garza sat. They would have their cell phones, and if she could tell them now..

But she couldn't use a phone in this public place. The idea made her laugh. She had to go home, to call him. And this person named Frank who was killed by the cops, who was he? She was so excited she had to put a paw on her tail to keep it from lashing. She watched Slayter move his chair closer to Chichi's.

"It hurts me to see how you miss Frank, I wish there were something I could do." He took Chichi's hand again, in both of his. "There's nothing either of us can do about cops," he said angrily. He removed his hand only when the waiter appeared, bearing elegant plates of pasta. The smell of shrimp and scallops made Kit lick her whiskers.

There was only silence, then, as the couple occupied themselves with their lunch. She looked around the restaurant. All the tables were full, and people were waiting, too. Those who'd been served were happily enjoying lovely things to eat. And it was not until she looked again into the patio at the Harpers' table, that she saw Charlie staring at her. Staring right into her eyes, trying not to smile.

I'm not doing anything! Kit thought fiercely, giving Charlie a flick of her tail. Cats are born curious! But then she smiled, too, because Charlie only wanted to know what Chichi and Roman Slayter were saying; Charlie was just as curious as she was.

The caged cats were very hungry. Even Joe and Dulcie were growing hungry, and they'd been eating better than the prisoners. The kibble, which had been old and dry anyway, was all gone. To Joe and Dulcie, kitty kibble was meant for a dire emergency. The stale cat food at the bottom of the bowl stunk so bad it made them all flehmen, baring their teeth and pulling faces. Joe thought the three ferals must surely be longing for fresh game, for freshly killed squirrel or rabbit; Joe thought lovingly of the delicacies that Clyde regularly provided, and of the fresh selections that might be waiting in the alley behind Jolly's Deli, gourmet fare laid out for any village cat who cared to partake-who was free to enjoy George Jolly's largesse.

Maria had returned from shopping just after Chichi went flying out the door. They could hear her in the kitchen putting away groceries, and then soon they could smell searing meat. The three captives sniffed the good scent and looked hopelessly at each other. And Cotton pressed his white face to the bars, searching the floor. "Where did they drop the key? You think it's really lost?"