Unknown - 16_Cat_In_An_Orange_Twist

“Temple Barr was kidnapped? From Maylords’s loading dock? Why the frigging hell didn’t anyone tell me about it?”

“Maybe because it wasn’t your case, Carmen. You are Homicide, right?”

“CAPERS we call it now. Crimes Against Persons.”

“Same diff.”

“I can’t believe the drug task force would overlook that.”

“They had big, bad me to round up. Probably on your orders.”

“No. I had nothing to do with that. I want nothing to do with you, get it?”

“Yeah, but maybe you better forget that long enough to find out what happened to this little red-haired girl.”

Three o’clock in the morning.

Molina barreled into the Circle Ritz lot and killed the motor.

This was a world away from the tawdry neighborhood Rafi Nadir had bought into. Quiet. Crickets screaming, but quiet

crickets, relatively speaking.

The black marble building shone like a polished shoe in the night lights, everybody in it decently abed.

Except possibly Temple Barr.

Molina got out of her serviceable Toyota and shut the door as quietly as she could. She paused to survey the lot.

Something softly echoed her car door’s bang and she turned. A sleek silver car puddled like mercury under the big palm tree.

A man stood by the car door. The security light made his blond hair a molten gold.

“Matt.”

He walked toward her. “What are you doing here, Carmen?”

“And you, I might ask.”

“I just got off from work.”

“So did I. There was a big drug bust at Maylords tonight.”

“My God, you’re kidding.”

“You know me. I haven’t got a kid in me, excepting Mariah.”

“Yeah, but … why are you here, then?” His eyes flashed up to the Circle Ritz’s second floor.

“I just learned your neighbor was there, and whisked away by a rogue motorcylist.”

Matt met her eyes for the first time. “Rogue motorcyclist? You don’t think Elvis-?”

“Forget Elvis! That was a demented fan. This was a drug-dealing biker gang, rendezvousing at Maylords, and one got away.”

“With Temple? Why aren’t you shaking the city down for her? Why come here?”

“I have to start somewhere. If she isn’t here-”

They both turned for the building, trotting.

Banged through the lobby doors. Took the stairs without waiting for the elevator.

Rushed down the short hall to Temple’s apartment and rang the buzzer. She rang. He rang. They waited.

Suddenly Molina looked down. “Ugh! Poison cat hair on my navy blues.”

Matt confirmed her sighting. A big black cat was silently twining though their legs, depositing hair as if they were twentyfour-hour banks.

“It’s Midnight Louie. Why’s he locked out in the hall? He always goes in and out through the bathroom window, which is always left open for him.”

Molina’s grim blue glance crossed his. “Unless it wasn’t left open tonight, as usual.”

“Then Temple wasn’t here earlier-”

“I don’t know when she was here,” Molina said, “I just know that if she isn’t here now we’ve got something to worry about.” Matt rattled the door handle until the hinges shuddered. Molina stepped back and unholstered her weapon. Temple opened the door, and gaped at them.

She was wearing a Bugs Bunny T-shirt and bunny slippers. “Yes? Thank heavens! At least I opened the door to reinforcements.”

“Weren’t you kidnapped from the Maylords parking lot tonight?”

“You mean this morning, Lieutenant? No, not exactly kidnapped. I left, hastily, when I realized I was interfering with police business.”

“Nadir said-”

Temple turned a limpid gaze on Molina. “A well-meaning guy, but sometimes he sees conspiracies everywhere.”

“Well-meaning guy?” Molina was stunned.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Temple told them, glancing from one to the other with sleepy, innocent eyes. “I’m fine. I just

need to get a little rest.”

The door shut. The dead-bolt snapped to. The chain lock grated into place.

“She’s safe,” Matt said.

“She’s lying,” Molina said.

“I’m happy to have her alive and lying,” Matt said. “Then you’re a fool.”

“Maybe, but I’m a happy fool. Can you say the same about yourself, Carmen?” She took the fifth, and left.

Chapter 56

Louie, Louie

Naturally, I have eeled unnoticed back into my home, sweet home before my Miss Temple slams the door shut on unwanted humans.

Despite the aplomb with which she answered the door and shooed away human interference, I can tell something is wrong. If she has failed to notice me she is nervous.

She immediately trundles herself into our bedroom, where I am distressed to find Mr. Max Kinsella stretched out on the king-size bed as if he owns the place. Not lately, buddy.

It does not matter that he is pseudowounded. He has no right to be hogging my zebra-pattern comforter, not to mention the

midnight comforts of my little doll.

‘Who was it?” he asks.

“Your favorite couple: Molina and Matt.”

He grins, devilishly. “Didn’t I tell you they were an item in the making?”

Miss Temple concentrates on pulling the comforter up under his chin. “I wish I knew what had happened after we left”

“Give me twentyfour hours to recover from that rubber bullet and I’ll look into it.”

“Max, those weren’t rubber bullets. That was the real thing. And the only reason you’re even conscious now is that you wore that Kevlar vest.”

He lays back, right where I am accustomed to burrow my weary head nightly, and sighs.

“Yeah. Man of Steel meets Bullet of Magnum Force.”

“I cannot believe you got me out of there.”

“I cannot believe you put yourself into a position you needed to be gotten out of … actually, I can, and rather fondly recall

-”

“You’re delusional.”

She notices my faithful bedside presence and has the grace to turn scarlet. I do so love the human capacity to change fur color. Also the fact that my Miss Temple takes my presence personally.

“Just rest,” she tells Mr. Max, “and we will figure out what happened in the morning.” Righf. That is what they all say.

Chapter 57

Dead Ends

If a horse throws you, you’re supposed to get right back on it. If a motorcycle gang throws you, maybe you just breeze back into work the next day as cool as you please.

That’s what Temple did, leaving Max dreaming the dreams of the young and the restless. He hadn’t been kidding about being exhausted. Temple, awash with gratitude for all his good points, regretted that their reunion wasn’t a bit more up close and personal.

She also wondered what else he was doing besides writing Gandolph’s book and secretly following her adventures at Maylords. It would take a lot more than that, and a bullet or two in the back, to put Max down for the count in the sack.

Midnight Louie had awakened her with an orgy of licking and purring, seeming to press a certain advantage.

He too looked a bit worse for wear-could he really have been among those lean and hungry feral cats that had mixed it up with the motorcycle gang? Nah. She must have hallucinated his presence. Not Louie. Another black cat. Poor homeless creatures. They probably thought those saddlebags contained food.

She’d have to see that Maylords did something to help those poor cats, and Maylords, i.e., Kenny and Barb, would probably be eager to do anything now that would result in good publicity.

Temple could just see the sound bites and headlines: “Drug Bust Results in Homeless Cat Rescue: Catnip Trumps Cocaine.” Temple sighed as she reached the Miata in the Circle Ritz parking lot and hit the unlock button on her key-ring remote control.