Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

I closed my eyes. If I looked down, I’d see my feet dangling in thin air, freak out, and do something stupid, like move. If I looked up, I’d see the man who, mere moments ago, I’d thought was going to kill me. Then I’d freak out and do something stupid, like move. So I did what Greg said. I stayed still.

From above I heard grunts and groans and scrapings of feet and then I felt myself pulled higher. A few grunts more and I could feel my face being shoved against the glorious dirty sand. More grunts and my shoulders were scraping against the edge of the bluff. A couple more and my hips were pivoting past the danger point. Then my knees came up and over and cleared, then my ankles, and finally, happily, thankfully, my toes.

He dragged me a few more feet for good measure, then released me and rolled onto his back. “Man,” he breathed. “Good thing you’re little, Minnie. If you’d been much heavier I never would have been able to haul you over that edge.”

I flopped onto my side, then sat up. From head to toe I was covered in sand, dirt, and bits of leaves and grass. I brushed off my face and looked at Greg. He was just as dirty as I was, if not more so.

“Thanks,” I said. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have fallen for sure.” Then again, if it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t have been skating the edge of the bluff in the first place, but I couldn’t see how it would be a bad thing to offer up some gratitude.

“Hey, no problem,” he said, his breaths already slowing to normal speed. “Glad to help.” Then he gave me a look that seemed to be half question, half wondering if I was bat crazy.

If he was Carissa’s killer, surely he would have let me drop. But he’d risked his own safety to secure mine, so he probably deserved an explanation.

“Well,” I said, “for a second there, I thought you might have killed Carissa. And that maybe I was going to be your next victim. Sorry about that.”

“Huh.” Smoothly, he sat up into a cross-legged position. “I guess my feelings should be hurt, that you’d think I could be a murderer, but you know what?” He grinned. “It’s kind of cool that you’d think I could be a dangerous bad guy.”

I blinked. Men were mysterious creatures. Not as mysterious as cats, but close.

“Thing is,” he said, “I have a great alibi for the murder. I had to call the veterinarian and he was out here all night. Dr. Joe, do you know him?”

The vet? What on earth was he talking about? “Sure, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Greg rubbed his chin, considering me. “Tell you what. Pop your bike into my rig and I’ll take you over to the house. You can get cleaned up and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Oh. Uh…” Was this the proverbial offer from a stranger? What was he going to do next, offer me candy?

“Come on.” He jumped up easily and held out a hand to me. I took it and he lifted me to my feet as if I weighed nothing. “It’s just down the road.”

I dusted off my shirt. My shorts. My arms. Legs. Face. Dusted some more while thinking about how to turn down his offer without seeming ungrateful for saving my life.

“I haven’t told hardly anyone any of this,” he said, “but Chris Ballou says you’re okay. He said that if any woman can keep a secret, you can.”

“Chris said that?” I looked at the sky and all around. “Where’s the lightning? It must be about to strike.”

Greg laughed and bumped his fist lightly on my shoulder. It was a brotherly sort of gesture and it comforted me in an oddly deep way. If he was willing to trust me with his secret, whatever it might be, maybe I should be willing to trust him.

At least a little.

“Hang on.” I trotted over to my bike, upzipped the handlebar pack, took out my cell phone, and pushed at the buttons. “Hey,” I said loudly into Kristen’s voice mail. “I’m headed to Greg Plassey’s house. I’m on my bike, so if I’m not home by dark, come looking for me, okay?”

I thumbed off the phone and looked up at him. “Ready when you are.”

• • •

The wide gates at the entrance to Greg’s driveway swung open slowly. My jaw dropped at approximately the same speed. How on earth had he done that? There were no humans, or even elves, around to do the opening, and his hands had never left the steering wheel.

He glanced over at me and grinned. “Pretty cool, huh? I had a guy install a transmitter on the front bumper. Don’t have to push a button or anything.”

We drove through the gate of closely spaced metal bars, a pattern that repeated itself in the tall fence that appeared to march all around the property. So, in addition to Greg’s being a gadget guy, he was also a man who took his privacy seriously.

Trepidation started to ooze into me. Why did he need security like this? Maybe he was famous to sports fans, but he hadn’t played baseball in years. And no matter how much money he’d made as a pitcher, there were lots of summer people up here who had more and I couldn’t think of anyone who had this kind of protection.

“Do you have a security guard?” I asked.

“Nah.” Greg braked and we came to a stop in front of a new and large brick house. It looked strange to me. Houses around here were sided with wood, not brick. Which only made sense because a good share of the Midwest’s early buildings had been built with lumber from Michigan’s forests. Brick? I blinked away the oddity and listened to what Greg was saying.

“Well, I had a guard at first, but he got bored pretty fast, so I didn’t replace him when he quit. All I really want is privacy, and people pretty much leave you alone up here.”

We got out of the SUV and started up the front steps. They, too, were made of brick, and my legs, almost half as short as Greg’s, found the spacing uncomfortable. I felt as if I were a little kid again, clambering up the stairs at my grandma’s house.

“So, anyway,” Greg was saying, “I knew I didn’t want a place on the water. Too many people around, you know? This property was exactly what I wanted. Nothing and nobody as far as the eye can see.”

He unlocked the front door, a massive wooden slab, and it swung open. “Come on in.” Once we were inside the soaring entryway, he pointed to a door to the right. “Lots of towels, if you want to clean up.”

I thanked him, but once in the plush bathroom of marble floors, gilt mirrors, and shiny fixtures without a single water spot, I made a quick decision. Tempting though the shower was with its multiple jets, it would have felt too weird to take off all my clothes in the house of a guy I barely knew. A washcloth and a little soap would have to do until I got home.

Marginally refreshed, I emerged from the bathroom into the vacant foyer. “Greg?” My voice echoed off the hard surfaces and I didn’t want to think of the noise level if Greg ever hosted a party.

I moved into the main part of the house, calling Greg’s name. If he’d thought I’d take a shower, maybe he was doing so himself. Maybe I should just wait in the living room.

“There, there, little one.”

His voice was distant, yet clear enough thanks to the room’s acoustics. I wound my way through the living room, dining room, and kitchen and found a partially open door. I pushed it wide… and stood stock-still in amazement.

“You’re a handsome little guy, aren’t you?” Greg was sitting in the middle of a long upholstered sofa. “Yes, you are,” he crooned. “You’re the handsomest one of all. Except for you, of course.” He looked to his left and scooped a gorgeous long-haired rabbit onto his lap, crowding the rabbit that was already there.

“So,” I said slowly, “I take it you like rabbits.”

It was the understatement of the decade. Filling the room were short-haired rabbits and long-haired rabbits. Big rabbits and little ones. Floppy-eared rabbits and rabbits with their ears sticking straight up. White rabbits and black rabbits and multicolored rabbits. Rabbits in cages, rabbits on furniture, rabbits on the floor. I tried to count, but they moved around so much that I stopped when I reached twenty for fear of getting a headache.