Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Peril

Just then, Vena entered the room, and carefully closed the door behind her until it clicked into its lock. She was holding a huge syringe in her hand, and a strange and oddly disturbing expression on her face. Then she held up the syringe and pushed on the plunger, squirting some clear liquid from the needle. As she approached, she grinned ominously, syringe poised over her head, and then she grabbed for me. “Who’s a good kitty-kitty?”

Both Dooley and I screamed, memories of Re-Animator returning in full force.

Barbara Crampton might be the scream queen, but we are definitely scream cats!

Chapter 30

Odelia arrived at the police station just in time to see her uncle walk out with Tracy Sting on his arm. For a moment she thought she was seeing things. But then her uncle escorted Miss Sting to his pickup and gallantly opened the door for her and helped her in.

“Uncle? What’s going on?”

Alec looked up, and so did Miss Sting. “Oh, hey, Odelia. May I introduce you to Tracy. Tracy, this is my niece Odelia.”

“Hi, Odelia,” said Tracy, getting out of the car again. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Odelia had trouble keeping her jaw reeled in. “But I thought—weren’t you—didn’t they—”

Alec smiled. “Oh, that was just a misunderstanding. All cleared up now I’m happy to say.”

Odelia automatically shook Miss Sting—Tracy’s—hand. “But… Burt Goldsmith…”

“Another little misunderstanding,” Tracy said. “I explained all that to Alec.”

“And once I explained it to Chase, he understood,” said Uncle Alec.

“Understood what?”

“That I would never harm a hair on Burt’s head,” said Tracy. “After all those years on the road, staying in hotel rooms and traveling the country, Burt and I had become thick as thieves.”

“Thick as thieves,” Alec stressed.

“So you see, Miss Poole—”

“Odelia,” Alec offered.

“Odelia, I would never hurt Burt. And I do hope you catch whoever is responsible.”

“Oh, we’ll catch the bastard,” Alec assured her. “Just you wait and see.”

Tracy placed a hand on his ruddy cheek. “I know you will, you handsome chief.”

Odelia had heard her uncle be called many names but never this. And seeing him all loved up like this frankly astounded her. Furthermore, she wasn’t as confident as he seemed to be that Tracy Sting wasn’t the person they were looking for. She certainly was one tough baby, as far as she could determine. “Do you… have plans?” she asked, gesturing at the car.

Alec smiled at Tracy. “We’re going out. Dinner and a movie. Isn’t that right?”

“Something romantic,” said Tracy. “The Rock has a new movie. Some Die Hard clone.”

“I love Die Hard ,” said Alec. “One of my all-time favorite movies.”

“Me too!” Tracy cried. “Another thing we have in common.”

“Very romantic,” Odelia agreed. She’d never seen her uncle look like a lovesick puppy before, and she decided that was just what he looked like right now. Well, maybe not a puppy. More a lovesick bulldog. “Just be careful, will you?” she said, not hiding her worry.

“Oh, we will,” he said. “I’m always careful when I’m traveling with precious cargo.” He gave her a wink, then practically raced to the other side of his pickup, a skip in his step, and hopped in, limber as a foal. “Ready, Tracy?”

“Ready when you are, Alec,” Tracy said, and gracefully placed her shapely legs in the footwell of the truck before closing the door. She cranked down the window a few inches. “I’ll take good care of your uncle, Odelia,” she said with a purr to her voice. “Don’t you worry.” Then she gave her a wink and a smile and the odd couple were off at a healthy clip, Uncle Alec gunning the engine a few times for good measure. Like a young Bruce Willis.

Odelia stood staring after them, conscious of her head moving from side to side of its own accord. Moments later, she became aware of the presence of Chase next to her.

“We had to let her go,” the cop announced somberly. “Alec insists she’s innocent.”

“He might be biased.”

“You think?” He shook his head. “The woman has cast a spell on him.”

“And he fell for it.”

“Hook, line and sinker.”

They stared after the chief’s car as it disappeared around a corner with squealing tires and smoke pouring from the muffler. This wasn’t good. “What if she blows him up?”

“She won’t.”

“She might.”

“He’s a grown man, Odelia. What do you want me to do? Tell him he can’t go out with that girl? Tell him he’s grounded and take away his phone and internet privileges?”

“Maybe we should tail them? Make sure she’s not up to more funny business?”

“He’d spot us five minutes in. The man is a seasoned cop.”

“I don’t like it, Chase.”

“I don’t like it either, Odelia, but there’s nothing we can do.”

He was right. Just then, the cop’s phone chimed. He put it to his ear, listened for a moment, then locked eyes with Odelia. He disconnected and put his phone away. A grin spread across his face. “I think we just caught a break, babe.”

“What?”

“Crime scene people pulled a partial print from a bottle retrieved at the scene.”

“And?”

“Curt Pigott.”

Chapter 31

Turns out Vena wasn’t The Re-Animator, nor was she The Exterminator or The Terminator or some other dastardly creature. Instead she was worried we wouldn’t sleep well, what with being forced to spend the night in an unfamiliar environment, and had given us a mild sedative to make us relax and rest while Dooley recuperated from his ordeal.

And I might add that it worked. Soon after the terrible moment had passed—I hate shots, don’t you?—I’d fallen into a deep and healing sleep and so had Dooley. When I woke up again it was because some altercation had occurred somewhere in the small clinic.

Vena’s clinic is a modest affair. Two rooms and that’s it. Dooley and I had gotten a nice comfy microfleece-lined perch to rest and recuperate on, accompanied by some of her other patients. I counted at least six: a puppy with mumps, a hamster with tendinitis of the elbow—those hamster wheels are a health hazard, I’m telling you—a parrot suffering a vocal issue, a parakeet with a beak sprain, a rabbit with toothache, and a pet mouse with pink-eye. Not that I could see the difference. As far as I know all mice have pink eyes. But I digress.

As I said, I was resting peacefully when all of a sudden I was awakened by the arrival of Vena with a fresh patient. It was another cat, this one of a more raggedy appearance. For a moment I thought it was Clarice, but when Vena finally left her modest ward, I saw it was a ginger cat, smaller and more diminutive than Clarice. When she caught me glancing over, she said, “Oh, hi. So nice to make your acquaintance. My name is Shadow. What is yours?”

I won’t deny that I was stunned. For what felt like days we’d been searching high and low for this elusive Shadow, and now, through some strange twist of fate, here she was!

“Do you by any chance go by the moniker Most Fascinating Cat in the World?” I asked, holding my breath.

“I do, sir, yes. That’s me. I’m the Most Fascinating Cat in the World. At least,” she added, sagging a little in the soft and plush bed Vena had put her in, “I used to be. Before my human was blown to bits. Sad story, sir. Very sad story, indeed. Shall I tell it to you?”

“I think I know the story,” I said. “Burt Goldsmith, right?”

“Best human a cat could ever hope to adopt. Bar none. Though I have to admit I also spent a lot of time with his grandson. Philippe Goldsmith. Have you made his acquaintance?”