Shirley Murphy - Murphy_Shirley_Rousseau_Cat_Coming_Home_BookFi

The man turned, and the light caught his face. When she saw him clearly, again her hand slipped to the ignition, ready to ease the car away down the far side of the hill. It was Garza.

Could he have given up trailing Benny, and started tracking her car? But how could he even know Maudie was gone? When the detective and Flannery and her husband left to search for Benny, Maudie had been safe in the house. Or so they thought. And once she had gotten Maudie away, who was going to come to the door in the middle of the night and discover Maudie wasn’t there? Not Jared, she thought, smiling. He’d be long gone, headed up the coast somewhere, maybe had hit some bar until closing time, to establish an alibi. She and the Colletto boys had escaped into the greenbelt together, Kent turning away downhill, she and Jared swinging back toward Maudie’s house. Jared had slipped in through the studio while she waited among the trees in the dark yard, then had gone in later to get the kid. Now, watching Garza, she glanced again toward the escape road, but if she moved the car, even without lights he’d hear her. Or the dog would, and make a fuss that would bring the damned cop straight to her.

Maybe they’d be gone soon, maybe the dog had lost Benny’s scent somewhere and the cop was just nosing around among the houses up here. Maybe he thought that, from above the woods, he might hear Benny crying for help. She had six hours until the bank opened, she could wait him out until he left. After the bank, she’d decide what to do with Maudie. She couldn’t turn her loose to run to the cops; she’d have to dispose of her or, as much of a drag as it would be, she’d have to take Maudie with her, kill her somewhere far away, dump her where no one would find her.

MAUDIE, FROM THE moment Pearl parked at the top of the hill under the trees, had known where she was. Below, fog lay thick along the ravine, the black line of roofs softly silhouetted against it. They were just above the senior ladies’ house. Even in the dark she knew the old established neighborhood, knew it from when she was a child and it had seemed so very far from the village. And knew it from more recently when she’d brought Benny up here to spend some time with Lori while she visited with Cora Lee, getting to know the four ladies, wanting to make friends her own age, establish some connections. Now, with the house so close, there had to be some way to reach them, to tell them she needed help.

She looked longingly at the soft light that burned around the back, most likely from the kitchen, and imagined the four women in their robes, sharing late-night cocoa. For her, they were worlds away; they might never know she’d been there. If she cried out for help, Pearl would hit her again or would drive off down the hill again. Even if she tried to cry out, she doubted they’d hear her since the dogs had started barking. She yearned to be down there safe in their kitchen. The thought of escape, of safety, brought tears of frustration that, with her hands tied behind her, she couldn’t even wipe away. She didn’t want Pearl to see how weak she was.

Whenever Pearl looked away from the rearview mirror, Maudie worked at the knots that bound her hands, picking and pulling at the soft belt, bending her fingers awkwardly. Pearl hadn’t found the gun in her pocket. Hadn’t felt it, hadn’t even looked. Apparently she didn’t think Maudie would have a gun or know how to use it. There were advantages in looking soft and helpless. And in not sharing all your personal information, even with your daughter-in-law. It hadn’t been any of Pearl’s business that she and Allen, on their weekend trips, had often included several hours at a county pistol range. They had kept several guns locked away, not only from Benny, but from any visitor who might enjoy snooping.

When one of the knots gave, a shock of excitement made her heart pound. It was almost loose. She tried to keep her upper body still as her cramped fingers fought to undo it. She was startled when, below at the seniors’ house, lights suddenly blazed on in the front windows, the front door opened, and Detective Garza emerged with Ryan’s tracking dog. She couldn’t believe he was there, not a hundred yards from her.

Had they found Benny? Had they brought him here? Was he all right? She jerked her hand loose from the last knot, tearing her skin in a long burn. Then she remained still again, not daring to divert Pearl’s attention from the scene that held them both riveted. And now with help so near, she was jolted to action. Slowly, watching Pearl, she reached toward her coat pocket.

HOLDING ROCK ON a short lead, moving along the porch away from the lighted doorway, Dallas stood against the wall of the house surveying the dark neighborhood. Beside him Rock was tense, predatory, his attention fixed on the wooded hill above. Light from the thin moon faintly defined the rising street, the big square houses and overgrown trees. Dallas couldn’t see into the woods at the top of the hill, but the big dog was alerting him in every way, straining to move out, wanting to have a look. Slowly Dallas edged toward the hill, keeping Rock close, knowing better than to approach the car alone.

Earlier, in the seniors’ kitchen, after he got the snitch’s call, Dallas had tried to call Maudie at home. He had gotten no answer, though she’d promised to stay near the phone. He’d alerted Brennan, but the officer, watching both houses, hadn’t seen or heard any disturbance. Brennan had seen Maudie’s bedroom light go on, and in a little while go off again, and had assumed that in spite of the missing child, she might be lying down, preparing herself for whatever came next.

The dog was tense with nerves, and so was Dallas. Where was Max? Too risky to move up on that car without cover and blow the whole thing, if Maudie was up there, maybe get her killed. Staying to the darkest part of the yard as Rock tried to pull him up toward the woods, he paused when he heard a vehicle coming up the hill. Rock stopped and looked expectantly in that direction, knowing the sound of Max’s truck. They heard it park somewhere in the dark below, and Dallas’s phone vibrated.

“Rock’s fixed on the top of the hill,” he told Max. “Something’s there, all right. We’re just at the base of the hill, and he’s hyped to have a look.”

In a minute Max’s shadow moved toward him through the dark. Rock wagged his tail and licked Max’s hand, but then again he fixed his attention on the hill above, his ears sharply forward, his pale yellow eyes never wavering from the black tangle of woods.

Max looked at the eager dog, looked up the hill. “Let’s go with it,” he said, and the three headed silently up through the dark, Rock straining at the leash, the officers’ hands close to their holstered weapons. Neither officer saw Joe Grey behind them slipping from the shadows. Moving swiftly, Joe picked up Pearl’s scent from the damp air, just as Rock was doing, a scent that made the fur along his back bristle. The instant they glimpsed the car the two men separated, circling around to come at it from the back, and Joe moved unseen into the woods. When Dallas was deep among the trees he gave Rock the command to “down, stay.”

Rock obeyed, but so grudgingly Joe thought he’d soon break position. Shivering, Rock stared at the car, the rumble in his throat so faint only Joe could hear it.

As Max moved along beside the car hunkered down, keeping below the windows approaching the driver’s door, Joe saw movement behind the glass that made him want to yell, to warn the chief. Pearl had turned in the driver’s seat, watching Max. Joe saw the gleam of a gun as she swung on Harper—and he did yell, yelled a warning, he couldn’t help himself. Dallas appeared on the far side of the car, his flashlight blazing in on Pearl, her gun pointed at Max. At the same moment, Maudie rose up in the backseat, a dark silhouette.