Клер Донелли - The Big Kitty

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Sunny protested. “It was a murder case, and they needed a statement.”

“Well here’s a choice for you,” Ollie snarled. “Make up the four hours you owe me tomorrow, or have them docked from your pay.”

What a public-spirited prince you are, Ollie, Sunny thought. But aloud she said, “Okay. I’ll come in for the morning.”

When she told her father what the call was about, Mike had some choice comments to make about Ollie the Barnacle. Then he broke off, looking over to the doorway. “I must have woken up your friend. He spent most of the day sleeping in that expensive bed you bought him—and shedding hair on my good coat lining.”

Sunny watched Shadow come into the living room. Even on less than a day’s rest, he seemed to be moving with a lot more of his usual grace.

“How’s his breathing?” she asked.

“Well, he didn’t snore.”

Sunny shot a look at Mike. “Did he eat?”

“Not when I was around,” Mike told her. “But whenever I look in the kitchen, his bowl is always miraculously empty.”

Shadow wound himself around her ankles with more interest than usual.

Well, Sunny thought, even if I wasn’t in a cell, I was in the jail. Guess I must have picked up some interesting smells while I was there.

She dropped to one knee and went to scratch Shadow behind the ears, half expecting him to pull away now that he was obviously feeling better. Instead, he pushed his head against her fingers. Sunny gently ran her hands along his furry sides. Shadow was fine with that, except for a little squeak when she passed his left ribs.

“I’d be afraid to lose a couple of fingers doing that,” Mike told her.

“After what you pulled on him, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Sunny responded with a shake of her head. “Tipping him out a window into the cold like that.” She was still annoyed about her dad’s little trick, but the words came out in a sort of crooning tone as she petted Shadow.

“He seems to be okay,” she said, looking up from the cat. “No swelling, and not that much pain, as far as I can tell. Looks as if he’s getting back to his normal self.”

“Great,” Mike grunted. “Should I start nailing the lamps to the tables?”

Sunny ignored him, finally rising to her feet. “I’ll start making supper.”

“Wash your hands first,” Mike called after her as she headed for the kitchen.

*

Shadow felt muchbetter. He had appreciated the safe, warm place to rest, but now that Sunny was home, he couldn’t keep himself away from her as she worked in the kitchen. As the room filled with the smell of cooking, he twined around her legs, even though she’d been thoroughly marked.

She talked to him and even put a bit more food in his bowl. He ate a little, just to be polite, and then kept following her.

When she and the Old One sat down to eat, Shadow positioned himself under the table, butting against her shins every once in a while. He stayed away from the Old One, even though he’d been careful and kind today. From harsh experience, Shadow knew that two-legged males might well kick when they thought no one was watching.

When the meal finished, Shadow accompanied Sunny back and forth to the kitchen as she cleared the table. The Old One took up his usual place, looking at the picture box.

Sunny came out and sat down, and Shadow sat at her feet. After a little while, though, she got up and went back to the kitchen. But she didn’t go for food. For a moment or two she rummaged in a drawer. Then she came out with a ball of string.

Shadow ran circles around her as she returned to the other room, but then she sat on the floor instead of back in her chair. Were they going to play with the string? He remembered chasing and rolling with the stuff, but he hadn’t played those games since he was a kitten! Trailing the end of the string along the rug, Sunny brought it to the corner of the chair. Just before it passed out of his sight, Shadow pounced on it.

Sunny flicked out the end of the string, and again began pulling it out of sight. Again Shadow pounced just before it would have escaped.

Shadow crouched low to the carpet, hoping she’d flick out the string again. She did.

They played the string game for a while, and Shadow managed to get a claw into the string itself. He pulled the ball to him and lay back, playing with it. The ball got smaller and smaller as loops of string piled up around him.

Sunny made happy noises, and even the Old One joined in, showing his teeth in that peculiar way the two-legs had.

At last there was no ball left. Sunny stayed on the floor, rolling it up again. Shadow lay beside her, resting against the side of her leg.

He was almost surprised at the contented sound suddenly welling up from within him.

*

Sunny gently pettedthe warm, furry body beside her.

“Are you purring?” she asked Shadow.

Mike used the remote to push up the volume on the show.

Then the phone rang.

“Who can that be at this time of night?” Mike grumped. He picked up the receiver and a moment later held it out to Sunny. “It’s Will.”

“I’m on meal break,” he said when she got on the phone. “If you don’t mind the occasional sound of me eating pizza as I talk, I’ll bring you up to date on what I heard happened out at Gordie’s place.”

“Okay,” Sunny said. “So what’s the story?”

“They finally got the fire put out and started investigating the cause. More or less as we, or at least I, suspected, it looks like Gordie was apparently trying to synthesize crystal meth.”

Sunny passed that information along to Mike.

“How do they do that, anyhow?” he asked.

Will must have heard him over the phone. “To put it very simply, you add certain kinds of cold medication to a solvent to strip away some of the active ingredients you want,” he said. “Gordie had a pretty bare-bones setup. For a solvent, he’d managed to get his hands on some ether. For the rest, he had a bunch of different cold pills. Either he was buying them in different stores or taking them with a five-finger discount. More likely the second, since he had no money.”

“Maybe that explains why he went into the meth production business in the first place,” Sunny suggested. “He might have been desperate to raise money. Think about it. If he told Shays that there’d be cash to fund a serious meth operation and then there wasn’t, Gordie would have found himself in a real bind.”

“That does make sense,” Will said. “Anyway, it looks as if Gordie had laid everything out for a trial run before he went into town. But he didn’t close up the ether container tightly enough. The stuff must have begun to leak out. Since it’s heavier than air, the ether just filled the house out there on the edge of town until finally it reached the pilot light on the stove and—kaboom.”

Sunny relayed Will’s explanation to Mike, who nodded.

“That’s how some of our demolition guys used to take out tunnel complexes back in ’Nam. All they needed for the job was a can of ether and a candle.”

“Well, it certainly blew the hell out of that old farmhouse—and did a pretty good job on Frank Nesbit’s PR, too.” Will reported. “Those camera crews followed him out to the fire. His whole ‘Keep Elmet Safe’ campaign sounded a little hollow when a meth lab turned up under his nose. He’s been trying to spin it, saying that this was the work of evil outsiders, but Gordie was a local boy.”

Mike cackled when Sunny told him that.

“Another interesting point,” Will went on. “Gordie was paying week to week to stay at this old farmhouse—a distressed property picked up by none other than your beloved boss, Oliver Barnstable.” He paused. “With luck Ollie will be lying low for a while.”