Donally, Claire - Cat Nap (A SUNNY & SHADOW MYSTERY)

Yeah, knowledge is power, Sunny thought, flopping back in her seat. Too bad it’s not money, too.

*

Shadow lay onthe topmost shelf of the bookcase, surveying his prison. It had been a good thing to work off some of his pent-up energy in climbing. And it was always good to be able to look down on everything around him.

He stared at the door between him and freedom. However hard he wished, though, it wouldn’t fall down, or break, or just swing open. But the next time the One Who Reeks opened it . . .

Shadow tried to estimate the angles. If he pushed off from here with all his strength, how high would he be when he reached the other side of the room? If he were head high, he could go for the face of the human who imprisoned him. The last two times she’d come in, she’d been carrying food, so her hands would be occupied.

He blinked that thought away, pleasant as it might be to consider. It was a long, dangerous leap from up here to down there, and most likely he would be much lower by the time he reached her. If he landed on her clothes, he wouldn’t be able to do much damage. And Shadow knew he’d have to hurt her, not just surprise her, if he really hoped to escape.

Finally, there was the thought of landing on her, of having to cling to the source of that awful stench . . .

He shuddered for a second, fighting to make that thought go away. Then, laying his head on his paws, he closed his eyes, trying to relax. Speaking of scents . . .

Maybe Shadow’s sense of smell had suffered, being trapped in close quarters with a human that emitted such an offensive odor. But up here, as he put his face close to the wooden shelving, he caught a trace of a different fragrance, a trace left by one of his own kind, not a human smell.

He rose on all four paws, nosing along the wood. Yes, definitely he was sniffing another cat. It reminded him of the scent of a she that he’d encountered down on the floor by the bowls. But he’d sensed sickness down there, pain and sickness nearly to death.

Then he realized. This was the scent of the she before she became ill. Yes, it made sense. A cat that sick wouldn’t be able to climb any great height. This was where she had gone before she became weak.

He followed the spoor to the other side of the shelf, noticing it get stronger as he moved. Not only did she come up here, but she spent a lot of time coming up here.

Well, if I were trapped in a room like this, with a human like the One Who Reeks, maybe I’d look for the farthest place away.

Realization made him stop in his tracks. He was trapped, just as the she had been. Would sickness and death be his only escape?

He reared back at the thought, sitting on his haunches. And when he did, Shadow discovered the real reason the lost she had come up here. Somehow, he caught a whiff of fresh air!

Shadow peered up at the ceiling above him. It wasn’t like the walls or floor—or the ceiling in Sunny’s room, which he’d explored one day from the top of her bookcase. The noise she made when she found he’d left a paw print up there! But that had been all in one piece, solid and immovable. This ceiling, though, was broken into squares, with thick borders. Looking more closely, he saw seams at the end of those borders. That’s where the trace of fresh air came from.

He stretched out a paw—no, still too short. So he pushed up with his rear legs. That was dangerous; it nearly sent him toppling to the floor. Was that what had happened to the she? Had she perhaps fallen and injured herself? Maybe she was just too short to reach that tantalizing square above.

But Shadow was longer than most cats. He backed up a little on the shelf and then extended his rear legs as strongly as he could, trying for a vertical jump while pressing up with his forepaws. He struck the rough-textured square—and it moved!

Again and again he tried, leaping at full extension, sometimes having to dance back desperately to avoid plunging off. A low guttural growl came from deep in his chest as he leaped, catching his claws in the rough-textured stuff . . .

He fell back again. But he had dislodged the square so that a narrow sliver of darkness showed above him.

A way out!

*

Sunny sat ather desk, watching the clock on the wall reach quitting time. At least, it would have been quitting time, except for the hour that Ollie the Barnacle was holding over her head.

Should I just call him now and say I’m staying late to pay off my debt?

She made a face, looking down at her computer screen. The problem was, nothing was happening now. No one would be calling or getting in touch when they expected the office to be closed. It wasn’t just unfair, putting in an empty hour to make up for what Ollie had described as an empty hour. It seemed stupid.

“To hell with this,” Sunny muttered, closing down her computer and then the office. Standing outside, she still felt rebellious—ready to do something stupid. So she left her Wrangler parked on the street and started walking toward the harbor.

The weather was milder this evening, and the wind had died down. When Sunny reached Spill the Beans, the café had a lot more people. Sunny could care less—she didn’t want a table; she just wanted a whoopie pie. All they had to do was sell her one, maybe put it in a bag so she could carry it to eat on the drive home.

Sunny looked around to ask if they did takeout—and froze. The table in the corner, the one where she and Will had sat and talked, was occupied by people she knew. Jane Rigsdale and Tobe Phillips sat with their knees touching below the tiny little tabletop, and their faces nearly touching above.

They burst into laughter. Seems as if they do that a lot, the tough reporter in the back of Sunny’s brain commented. And she couldn’t fail to notice the high color in both their cheeks. I don’t think that’s from the coffee—or from the overhead heater.

A waitress finally noticed her and came over. “How may I help you?” she asked.

Sunny shook her head. “You know, I don’t think you can.”

She got out of there. Better to leave the two some privacy. The whoopie pie would have to wait.

20

Before going upinto the darkness overhead, Shadow climbed down to the floor, to the food and water bowls. Better to finish off what he had before venturing into the unknown. With a full belly, he scaled the shelves again. Then he positioned himself under the opening he’d created and leaped. After a brief, undignified scrabble, he was up in a dim world, sneezing. Well, he’d learned one thing: the unknown was dusty.

Using his forepaw, he batted at the square he’d dislodged. Finally, he managed to get it back in place. That made the dimness darker. But unless the One Who Reeks could track by scent, she wouldn’t know where he’d gone.

Shadow set off across this new domain, walking slowly and carefully. Now that they were underfoot, the squares that made up the ceiling tended to give alarmingly as he stepped on them. By trial and error, he learned where to put his weight—and where not to.

Then he raised his head, trying to follow the crosscurrents of air up here. He also flicked his ears around. There was some sort of low, machine-made noise ahead and off to the left.

Shadow padded along gingerly, letting the sound get louder until he came to the source, a boxy metal construction that stretched off on either side into the darkness. When he extended a paw, Shadow found it was warm to the touch and let off a low, droning vibration. When he climbed on top, it felt a little bit like the refrigerator back in Sunny’s house.

For a second, he felt so low, he wanted to yowl.