Fur-miliar Felines Page 3

  “That Treacle knows where to keep safe. I’m sure he’s fine. But he’ll be staying in most of the time just as soon as we get our first snow, and that might be tonight. He always hates…”

  My telepathic conversation was interrupted as the front door quietly opened and shut. I looked up at Bea, who turned around and looked toward the front door.

  “Jake?” she called.

  There was no answer.

  I got up from my stool and walked around the counter to stand next to Bea after scooping Peanut Butter up in my arms.

  “Jake?”

  “Yes, Bea. It’s me.” Jake sounded as if he wasn’t really sure about that statement. Bea hustled around the counter and down the hallway, where I could hear a muffled conversation and then a gasp.

  “Oh no!”

  That sounded like bad news. At first I thought it had something to do with Jake’s partner, Blake Samberg. I felt queasy as I waited for Bea and Jake to come into the kitchen.

  “Cath is here,” I could hear Bea say in reply to Jake’s mumbles.

  Before I could listen to any more, I heard a frantic scratching at the sliding glass back door.

  “Treacle’s back!” Peanut Butter announced.

  I walked over to the door, flipped the lock, and pulled it open. Within a second of stepping into the warm house, he jumped up into my arms. He was shivering.

  “My goodness, beastie,” I said soothingly as I stroked the cat’s cold fur. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Treacle said nervously. “I just needed to get inside is all.”

  “What? Was something chasing you?”

  “Nothing I could see.”

  Obviously, I didn’t care for the sound of that.

  “Did you get into a fight with one of those other alley cats? Maybe they didn’t like you slinking around their neighborhood.”

  “No.” He jumped out of my arms and sat facing the glass door, looking out into the darkness. “I just needed to get inside. I can’t say I saw or heard or smelled anything. But I knew I needed to be home.”

  “Okay.” I bent down on one knee and looked out with my cat while scratching him behind the ears. “Get warmed up, and after I have some hot chocolate, we’ll head on home.”

  “Alone?”

  Just then, Bea and Jake walked into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Jake.” I waved. He looked pale, and his eyes were tired. “Bad day?”

  “Hey, Cath. Yeah, you could say that.” Jake was a really nice guy. He was like the brother I never had. More importantly, he treated Bea really well. They were a bit of an odd couple, her being a witch who cooked vegetarian food and him being a police detective. But like the red and green colors of the season, they complemented each other. “We had to reinterview some of the kids from Bibich High School. It’s an ugly situation all around.”

  “I was just making some hot chocolate for Cath and me. You want some, hon?” Bea asked, putting her hand on her husband’s forearm as he leaned against the countertop like a cowboy at a saloon.

  “That sounds good.” He smiled, but it was obvious he was tired. “You know, at this time of year I should be hauling in guys who maybe just threw back one too many at their office parties, or maybe dealing with an accidental fire from too many Christmas lights on a dry Christmas tree. Not…child molestation.”

  “Crime never takes a holiday,” Bea said as she stirred the delicious-smelling chocolate and poured the thick concoction into three coffee mugs.

  “Neither does dry skin,” I offered as I scratched my neck. “Can I ask you, Jake, do you have an opinion on Mr. Wayne? Do you think he did what those kids are saying?”

  “I can’t really tell.” He wrapped his hands around his mug and smiled up at Bea as she sprinkled shaved peppermint on top of the chocolate. “I think he’s hiding something, but I’m just not sure it’s what everyone thinks. But if I’m not careful, I might miss something. It’s a real mess. And the guy is really up on his rights. He won’t even ask to go to the bathroom unless he knows we’ve crossed every T and dotted every I because he’s the kind of guy to catch us on a technicality if he can.”

  “There are a couple of kids, though, right?” I asked. “Are their stories the same?”

  “Sort of,” Jake said sadly. I could tell it was hurting him to talk about it. “But I don’t make a call on it until I’ve seen everything and talked to everyone. I’m just not looking forward to that. Either the guy did it, and that’s bad, or he didn’t, and that might just be worse.”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to me that maybe Mr. Wayne was innocent. Sad to say I am probably like most of the people in Wonder Falls who heard about the story and instantly assumed it could not be made up. I decided to follow Jake’s lead and let everything fall into place before I gave my two cents’ worth.

  We sipped our hot chocolate, and I commented on Bea’s beautiful Christmas decorations. She had her house tactfully decorated with ornaments and candles and small twinkling lights that gave the whole place a very grown-up, very mature and elegant feel. It suited her.

  Aunt Astrid’s house was covered with over sixty years of collecting and buying and, well, hoarding all kinds of trinkets and tassels. Stepping into her house at Christmastime was like time travel back to my childhood. Even with my parents gone, I couldn’t help but always feel the warmth and love stepping in the front door. Sure, I wished my parents, especially my mother, could be around. But they aren’t. My aunt Astrid and Bea are. Through all the years, they have made sure no boogeyman from underneath the bed has ever come to take me, as it did my mother. I feel safe and warm when I am with them.

  “Well, I think I’ve had enough hot chocolate for tonight.” I stood and stretched. I slipped on my coat and gave Jake a kiss on the cheek. “Get some rest. You’re starting to look your age.”

  “Thanks, Cath. You smell,” he teased back.

  “Oh, what about what Mom said?” Bea’s eyes widened.

  “I think you could just watch from your door that I make it home,” I offered. I didn’t want to be a thorn in Jake’s side, especially after him having such a bad day. “Besides, I’ve got Treacle. We’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, but flip your porch light when you are safe inside,” Bea ordered as she walked my cat and me to the door. “Treacle, make sure Cath doesn’t get in any trouble.” She scratched him behind his ears then kissed me on the cheek.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” I assured Bea as I stepped outside and began my short journey across the street. I thought about my decorations in my house and was looking forward to getting home. My Christmas tree was small but was loaded with secondhand ornaments I’d bought at the thrift store. Nothing matched, and gold and silver tinsel covered just about every surface, hung around every picture, door, and window frame, and the tackier the lights, the better. My tree was covered with two strands of lights that were three hundred bulbs each. It almost lit up my whole house.

  But before I could get inside my house, the snow started to come down. I turned and thought I saw Bea standing in her doorway, waving. I waved back and pulled my coat tighter around me, but when I looked in the direction of my house, I couldn’t see it. It was just snow. A great wall of falling snow.

  “Treacle?” I looked down and saw the black fur being almost completely devoured in the white precipitation. “Treacle!” I reached down and pulled him up by the scruff of his neck as if he were my kitten. “What is this?”

  “I don’t know. But there’s a cat around here.” I felt Treacle’s body go rigid in my arms. He was staring off down the street, and he didn’t blink. I looked and didn’t see anything. But I heard it. The familiar low growl of a cat that was not happy.

  My porch light was getting dimmer, and I was afraid that if I didn’t get to it right away, we’d never see the light of day again. Squeezing Treacle to my chest, I trudged toward the light. The snow was at my ankles, then my calves, then my knees within seconds. How could this be?

  The growl
ing sound was even closer. I couldn’t see where it was coming from, but I was sure I could feel the heat of its breath cutting through the cold, icy snowflakes, and I bolted. Hiking my legs up as the snow reached my thighs, I ran as best I could to what I hoped was my front porch. I was so disoriented that I wasn’t sure anymore. But there was a light, and it was getting closer, so I held on to Treacle and lumbered as fast as I could. Finally, I fell onto my cement sidewalk, nearly smooshing Treacle in the process.

  “Thank God for Aunt Astrid’s protection spells on our houses. Are you okay?” I asked him.

  “What was that?” He leapt from my arms and circled along the sidewalk, looking back in the direction we had come.

  Remembering the growl, I jumped up and whirled around, only to face my yard. A slight dusting of snow fell to the ground, barely enough to make a snow angel, let alone the blizzard I was sure I’d just fallen out of.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. Quickly, I pulled my keys from my pocket, unlocked the front door, scooted Treacle inside, shut and locked the doors behind me, and then flicked my lights for Bea. I peeked out the window to see her flickering hers back. That was our code that we were home and safe. “But whatever it was, I don’t think Bea saw it. That’s it for tonight, kitty. You’re staying in.”

  “You won’t get an argument from me.” He rubbed his body along my leg then trotted off for a drink of water. I did the same.

  The night went by quietly with no other strange incidents. It wasn’t until I saw the tracks in the frost the next morning that I felt a chill race over me.

  “I told you there was a cat out here,” Treacle said as he came outside with me to walk to the café.

  Maybe it was a cat. But the prints were about the size of car tires, and it looked as though they were dragging something alongside them. Before I could study them, the sun made quick work of the frost, and everything melted away.

  Greek Tragedies

  “I could count how many snowflakes I saw fall last night on one hand.” Bea shook her head as she listened to my story. “But I will admit that I blacked out for a flash of time.”

  “What do you mean?” Aunt Astrid asked. She was at her table with a deck of tarot cards for any emergency readings that might be requested from our customers.

  “Well, I was watching Cath cross the street and…”

  “Didn’t I tell you to have Jake and you walk her home?”

  “Busted,” I muttered. “Aunt Astrid, it was my fault. Jake looked so tired that I didn’t want to make him bundle himself up to walk me just across the street and…”

  “And when I tell you to do something, you do it!” Aunt Astrid yelled. I don’t think I have heard Aunt Astrid yell at Bea and me since we were in the ninth grade and tried to conjure a spitting demon to attack Darla Castellan, who was, and still is, my nemesis. We didn’t realize spitting demons multiplied like gremlins if a person screamed. And a person always screamed.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I felt horrible. “Sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Mom.”

  My aunt glared at us. A few bubbly older ladies came bustling into the café, setting off the bells over the door. It was obvious that they had been shopping, as they each had a handful of bags in their hands. Two coffees and two chocolate-and-raspberry scones with a sprinkling of peppermint candy cane over the top, and they were happily talking at a corner table, oblivious to the tension between us Greenstones.

  “There is something out there,” Aunt Astrid rumbled. “It gets darker earlier this time of year, and whatever it is, it’s using that to its advantage. Now you both better tell me exactly what you did last night, and don’t leave anything out.”

  I swallowed as if I were about to be grounded for not only sneaking out with a boy, but for smoking a cigarette, too. Bea and I told Aunt Astrid everything. I started with the snowstorm, and Bea ended by saying she had watched me cross the street but had fallen asleep standing up.

  “I didn’t think anything of it because when I snapped to, Cath was flipping her porch light on and off that she’d made it home. I just chalked it up to being tired.”

  Aunt Astrid pulled out a sheet of paper from her pants pocket. It was wrinkled, and from what I could see, it had scribbled notes all over it. She wrote down a couple of things then folded it and put it in her pocket.

  “You girls.” She sighed. “What would I do if anything happened to either one of you?”

  Bea and I had no idea what Aunt Astrid was talking about, but she was making both of us very nervous.

  “Mom?” Bea stepped up first. “What is this all about?”

  “I’m not sure.” Aunt Astrid smiled and put her hand to her daughter’s cheek. “But promise me that if I ask you to do something, you girls will do it!”

  “I promise,” I answered quickly. I didn’t want any more trouble, and the last thing I wanted was my aunt mad at me.

  “Me, too.” Bea crossed her heart.

  Aunt Astrid let out a big sigh and smiled at us.

  “Good. Now that we have that out of the way. Cath?” I held my breath. I wasn’t sure what she was going to reveal, and I wasn’t sure I was prepared. “Don’t you have a date with Tom tonight?”

  I slapped my forehead.

  “Yikes! I forgot.” What kind of girlfriend was I? In the history of girlfriends, there has never been one who would forget her date with a blue-eyed, black-haired, cowboy-boot-wearing Romeo like Tom except me.

  “Where are you two going tonight?”

  “Thankfully, he said it was casual, so I can wear what I’m wearing now.” I inspected my reflection in the toaster on the counter and shrugged.

  “You look lovely,” Bea assured me. “Navy blue complements your complexion and brings out your eyes.”

  I tugged at the blue Christmas sweater I was wearing. It was from my collection of ugly sweaters for the holiday season and had giant white snowflakes knitted throughout with silver and gold gems bedazzled onto the center of each one.

  “Is he picking you up here?” Aunt Astrid asked.

  “Yeah. Around seven, if I remember right.” I scratched my head.

  “Okay. I will put a protection spell on the both of you. He won’t even notice I’m doing it. The same goes for you, young lady.” Aunt Astrid pointed at Bea.

  “Can you tell us what we’re up against? I mean, usually we’re pretty strong together, and you seem to be flying solo on this one,” I interrupted.

  My aunt slipped her arms through Bea’s and mine and pulled us close to her. She smiled, but there was something scaring her, and that scared both of us.

  “Truthfully, I am not trusting my own sight,” she said. “I am afraid that my powers just aren’t what they used to be. There is something out there. I can feel it. I can hear it. I think at times I can even smell it. But I can’t see it, and I’m afraid of the reason why.”

  “What would be that reason, Mom?” Bea lost all the pink in her cheeks.

  “My time is coming.” Aunt Astrid straightened her back and blinked back tears.

  There was a story in those Greek tragedies of a soothsayer that could see everything coming but not the day of his own demise. I wondered if knowing or not knowing was better. Right now, I wished I didn’t know this.

  “I don’t need to go out tonight, Aunt Astrid,” I said. “We can stay at the house and figure things out and then…”

  “You most certainly do need to go out tonight.” She flipped her long, wild hair behind her. It was still pale blond with streaks of grey. Her body didn’t appear to be degenerating in any obvious way, and she didn’t complain about her joints or her hips or her hands, as some people her age might. “When a handsome man wants to take you someplace, you go. Now, enough of this negative business. As I said, I’ll put a protection spell on the both of you, and we’ll go on living as we always have, as a family.”

  “M-Mama?” Bea took her mom’s hands, and I could see she was trying to find something, anything that she could fix, unblock,
release, or tighten that would explain why her mother had said she was afraid she was losing her sight. But there wasn’t anything there. Bea bit her lip.

  “Come on now. We’re at work. We’ve got customers. It’s Christmastime.” My aunt took each of our hands and squeezed them tight. “And I’m not licked yet.” She winked.

  It was true that keeping busy and doing your job well could make you feel a whole lot better when you were down. In fact, Aunt Astrid, Bea and I had a rather jolly time at the café. Bea told us about the worst present Jake had ever bought for her when they first got married.

  “A garlic press?” I laughed. “And what else?”

  “Nothing!” she wailed, laughing until tears came out of the corners of her eyes. “He thought it would be what I wanted since I complained that my hands would smell like garlic when I crushed it and cut it with a knife. He didn’t know how much garlic can be used in magic and that using a press would ruin the spell.”

  For some reason, that detail made the story that much funnier. We held our sides, we were laughing so hard. By the time seven rolled around and Tom showed up, I was sure he thought we were drunk.

  “Have a good time, you two,” Aunt Astrid said after casually and discreetly putting a protection spell over us. I kissed her and Bea on the cheek before stepping out into the brisk night air with Tom. I felt his warm hand take hold of mine.

  “So where are we headed?” I asked, inhaling the wonderful smell of logs burning in a fireplace.

  “Bibich High School,” he chirped.

  “What? Why?” I was shocked. Surely he knew what was going on there. What could possibly be the reason for going there?

  “Because it is a home game for the football team, and with all the trouble they’ve been having, it’s important to show them support at a time like this.” He smiled.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a high school football game,” I muttered. “Not even when I was in high school. Okay. What’s in it for me?”