Клеа Саймон - An Incantation Of Cats

Set next to the bathroom that had permitted Becca to enter, the kitchenette appeared to have been built into a repurposed closet. On the bottom sat a tiny refrigerator, with shelves above climbing up to the ceiling. Becca’s search was methodical, starting with that fridge. But if she expected a bottle of poison, or even an interesting herb, she was bound for disappointment. The dorm-sized appliance held only an ice cube tray, empty, and a sad lime, brown at its edges. Becca ran her hand over the top of the fridge, but it came away so dirty she went into the bathroom to rinse it off.

Her examination of the shelves wasn’t any more fruitful. The first held a microwave, but that, like the fridge, proved to be empty, if one didn’t count a sticky film that even a human might notice. The second was also empty, and even from the desktop, Clara could see the fine layer of dust that had settled there. That left one shelf, above Clara’s sight line. While she could have leaped up with a minimum of fuss, she didn’t need to. Becca, on tiptoes and holding onto the shelf’s lip for balance, had struck gold. With an exclamation of glee—“A-ha!”—she reached back to grab a mug that had been pushed back, apparently the only dishware of any kind left in the sad kitchenette.

“So you did sometimes take a break with—” Becca’s head snapped back just as the acrid stench reached Clara. “Whoa!” Becca blinked as she stepped back reflexively, bumping into the desk with a thud and causing the empty drawer to rattle open. Clara didn’t have to get that close to catch the reek of burned coffee and something sharper—whiskey?—mixed in. What she didn’t smell was any of that bitter root or the sad, sick odor that had clung to Gaia. She looked at her person, wondering if Becca could tell that, too, or if there was some way she could share her insight. But Becca had shaken off the burned and bitter stench and had turned to push the desk drawer back into place. It rolled easily enough with a gentle rumble. But as soon as she released it, it once again slipped open, nudging against her like a hungry kitten.

“Oh, come on.” She pushed it in once more. Only this time, the drawer didn’t quite close. And as soon as she released it, the drawer rolled open once again.

“Becca?” Maddy’s voice, tight with anxiety, reached her from outside. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Kneeling now, Becca pushed the drawer shut deliberately. But this close even she could see that the metal front wasn’t flush with the desk’s frame. Something was keeping the drawer from latching.

“If it’s nothing, maybe we should get moving.” Maddy was keeping her voice low, but the tension had her pitch rising like a young bird’s. “I did say I’d be in sometime before noon.”

“Just a minute, Mad.” Becca tried again, opening the drawer to its full extension before pushing it closed. But no amount of force that the petite young woman could exert would make it click into place. Then, as Clara looked on, Becca opened the drawer once more, pulling it out as far as it would go. Watching, the little calico felt her ears twitching, taking in the distant sounds of the traffic by the river as well as the anxious fussing of Becca’s friend. The cat couldn’t tell for sure what Maddy was seeing outside, but she could hear her breath quickening, just as she caught the rising fear in the other girl’s voice. This was no time for Becca to keep trying what clearly wasn’t working.

“If only…” Leaning on the opened drawer, Becca managed to tip the metal desk ever so slightly. As she did, she reached her arm back into the drawer. Alarmed, Clara rose from where she had been sitting. The slight tilt wasn’t enough to dislodge her, but seeing Becca strain like that was concerning. And the way her arm disappeared into the desk brought to mind a small creature being devoured, one limb at a time.

“Hello there!” Becca even sounded like she was talking to a beast, although a friendly one, if her growing smile was any indication. “Come to Mama.” Becca leaned even further in, the motion of her fingers rattling something inside the desk.

When she pulled her hand out, she was holding another flattened piece of metal. The back of the drawer, Clara thought. It was certainly bent and a little battered, as a broken piece would be, and although one side had been painted blue and white once, the colors were nearly scratched away. But the way Becca was eyeing it, turning it over in her hands, made her pet wonder. Standing on her hindquarters, the plump cat reached up to sniff. If only Becca would hold it a little lower…

“Becca!” Maddy’s stage whisper was coming directly from the bathroom window, and Becca turned away from the desk.

“Just a minute, Mads. Reynolds can wait.”

“I think someone’s coming.” The whisper became more of a hiss.

“Bother.” Becca looked at the piece in her hand and then, holding it at arm’s length, took several photos of it with her phone.

“Becca!”

A few more pictures, and then she slipped it back into the drawer, which closed this time with a satisfying click. Clara jumped noiselessly to the floor as it did and eyed the desk. It was metal, but she could shimmy through it if she tried. Only, she could already hear Becca in the bathroom. She was climbing up on the toilet tank to the window, and so the calico joined her, out on the pavement, where Maddy was shuffling anxiously.

“What is it?” She asked as Maddy ushered her off the lot. “Was there really someone?”

“I think so.” Maddy dared a glimpse over her shoulder. “I’m not sure, but there was a big black car, like a town car or a limo, and I’m pretty sure I saw it twice. I think it circled back.”

“Did you happen to see the plates?” Becca strained to see the road. Clara didn’t think she sounded convinced.

“No, sorry.” Maddy nearly pushed her friend along. “Please, let’s get out of here.”

Becca let herself be hurried, and after a long look at her friend’s face, she picked up the pace herself. “You’re scared,” she said.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah.” But the ice seemed to have broken. “So, did you find anything?”

“I did, but it’s odd.” Becca spoke almost as if to herself. “I didn’t find anything in the office that I expected. No teapot or tea bags.”

“I’m sure the cops took all of that.” Maddy might have relaxed, but she wasn’t slowing down.

“Yeah, but there’s not even a kettle or a hot plate. Just a microwave.” She slowed, lost in thought. “And they did leave one mug, but unless I’m very wrong, nothing was ever in that except for coffee and booze.”

“Becca, please.” Maddy had her arm know and was dragging her further up the street. “The police are investigating. It makes sense that they’d take everything.”

“Everything? Even the kettle?” She paused. “Though I guess you could make tea in a microwave.” The grimace that followed showed what she thought of that idea. “They sure cleaned the files out.”

“You looked at the files?” Maybe it was the question, or that the two were simply over a block away by then, but Maddy had turned toward her friend. “What were you looking for, anyway?”

“I’m not sure.” Becca stared off in the middle distance, reminding Clara of nothing so much as Laurel when she was trying to focus on a moth. “Insurance records maybe, or vehicle registrations. I mean, have you ever seen any cars down there?”

“Maybe one or two.” Maddy shrugged. “It never seemed like the busiest lot, but I don’t know the used car business.”

“I did find some license plates. Dealer plates, for the most part. You know, the ones you put on a car when someone takes it for a test drive or has to move it? But there was also an old Rhode Island plate. It looked kind of beaten up.”