by Cy Wyss
Franklin’s eyes twinkled. “Now you have to explain what those are.”
“Well,” PJ said, “the flying turkey one was when someone was breaking into the Amish barns and stealing turkeys. Turns out it was a guy running a dog-fighting ring, trying to get free food. He thought their religion prevented them from going to the police.”
Franklin laughed. “Aren’t you glad they’re stupid?”
PJ chuckled. “Sometimes we’re stupid, so I guess it’s good the bad guys usually are too.”
Franklin and Robert nodded in unison.
Robert said, “The haystack incident was darker. A girl was attacked in a barn, and the main suspect denied it. Poor girl. Then PJ let it be known we thought there were probably traces of clues in the haystacks, and we caught him red-handed searching for them.”
Franklin guffawed. “That’s amazing. You got a perp looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack—literally.”
“Yep,” PJ said.
Robert winked at her. “She’s good, Andy. Real good. Good for this community.”
PJ smiled at her brother. She was surprised at his warm endorsement of her. She hoped she wasn’t getting him into any trouble by backing her.
Franklin said, “I can see that. She’s got a brain on her. Unlike her brother.”
“Ha, ha.” Robert said sarcastically.
PJ chortled. “I think the brains in our family run on the X chromosomes, so he only got half of them.”
All three of them laughed uproariously.
* * *
After work, Robert headed for PJ’s. By the time he got there, the sun had set, and PJ was nowhere to be found.
“PJ?” he called, looking through her trailer. There was no sign of her.
He came back outside onto the stoop and contemplated where PJ might be. He saw a small black tabby cat with a jeweled collar watching him from the driveway.
“Hello there,” he said.
The tabby closed her eyes at him, then opened them again.
“Don’t suppose you know where the woman who lives here is?” he asked.
The cat was silent.
Robert ran his hand through his hair. “I guess not.”
He needed to talk to PJ. After she had left, Franklin had given him a thorough grilling about her role in the Greene-Tate case. Apparently, Franklin was more on the side of Jake Tipton and inclined to believe PJ made up her story to get attention.
Robert also had other pressing issues to talk to PJ about. But he guessed they would have to wait until morning. He wasn’t about to wander into the woods around her trailer and look for her. He supposed she was out with those darn light goggles she’d been trying. Who knew when she’d be back?
He got back in his sedan and started it. As he pulled away, he saw the tabby cat watching him from the stoop. Her eyes struck an unconscious chord in Robert, and he wondered why he found the cat so compelling. He didn’t stop to think about it much, instead being preoccupied with all the other things on his mind.
— 16 —
Nanci
The next morning, PJ sat inside Coffee on Main and nursed a mug of hot chocolate. She had a copy of the Mayhap Mirror and was reading the crime beat. She was irked to see Sam Collins had beat her to the punch. The police had raided Trent’s father’s house, arresting four and picking up nearly two pounds of crystal meth for their trouble. PJ was happy the house was out of business but annoyed she hadn’t been the one to publicly break the story. She knew she’d been neglecting her freelance duties in all the confusion surrounding the Greene-Tate business.
Robert pushed open the double doors and walked toward PJ’s booth. He was in a navy suit with a gold tie that set off the highlights in his eyes. Those eyes were flashing emotions at PJ, and not good ones. PJ wondered if Robert was more angry or chagrined.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as he sat down.
He pointed to the paper lying next to her. “I take it you saw the bust.”
“Yeah. But isn’t that a good thing?”
The waitress came by, and Robert ordered coffee and an omelet. PJ ordered eggs Benedict with a side of toast and bacon.
After the waitress left, Robert stared at PJ, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“What aren’t you telling me?” PJ said.
Robert was silent. Before PJ could grill him further, the waitress dropped off Robert’s coffee. He took it up and sipped from it.
“No really, Robert,” PJ tried again. “What’s wrong with the bust? Why are you upset about it?”
“You know I can’t talk about open and active cases.”
“Oh. So the investigation is still ongoing?”
“Yes.”
“I read they arrested two women and two men. Was Sheldon Pike among those they arrested?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“You know, he was there the night Chip Greene went in the water.”
“What?!”
“He smokes these distinct cigarettes, and I smelled them.”
“And your story changes again. PJ, you’ve got to drop the whole Greene-Tate thing. Let the system do its job. You know they released Tate. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Well, they released him for now. But he won’t get far if Detective Tipton is still gunning for him.”
“How do you know Detective Tipton isn’t gunning for you?”
“He thinks I made everything up, that I wasn’t involved at all. So I guess he’s not going to try to pin anything on me for that.”
“And what about the thefts at Stoker Hills?”
“That was Trent and Sheldon Pike. They should be in jail. Why won’t you talk to me about Sheldon Pike?”
Robert sighed. “PJ, let’s change the subject. There’s something I have to talk to you about.”
“Okay, fine. But there’s something I wanted to talk to you about as well.”
“All right, you first.”
“Who is Special Agent Franklin? Why is he here? Is he going to be your new partner or something?”
Robert laughed. “No, he’s not going to be my partner. The opposite, really.”
“What does that mean?”
Robert took a swig of his coffee. “He’s here to investigate me. He’ll be doing my annual performance report.”
“What? Investigate you? That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s routine, actually. Every year our performance is analyzed. You know, next week I have to take a polygraph.”
“What!? A lie detector test? Why?”
“PJ, I thought I told you that before. It is standard every year in the Bureau. They have to make sure I haven’t gone over to the dark side.”
PJ ran her fingers through her hair. “That sounds stressful.”
“It is.”
“What does Agent Franklin have to do with that? Is he giving the polygraph?”
“No, I’ll drive down to HQ in Indy for the polygraph. Andy was just here to question me about my recent reports.”
“Your recent reports… you mean about the Greene-Tate business?”
“Yes. And the Stoker Hills thefts. Both of the reports featured you, PJ. And Franklin got the idea from somewhere that not only are you a busybody, but you make up events when you’re not involved.”
“By ‘somewhere,’ you mean he got that idea from Jake Tipton.”
“That’s who I would have guessed as well. I’m thinking the bastard is trying to go over my head to get me in trouble. I imagine he brought up the fact that you’re my sister so my judgment may be faulty where you’re concerned.”
“That’s bull.”
“I know that and you know that, PJ. Just because you’re my sister doesn’t mean you get a free pass. If you break the law in any way, I’ll bring you in myself.”
“I know that. I’m not a criminal; I love the law. I uphold it as much as you do.”
Robert nodded.
“So is Franklin going to make trouble for you? Give you a bad repo
rt?”
“I’m not sure. He seemed congenial by the time he left yesterday. And I think he was positively impressed by you. But it’s hard to say. He might just be lulling us into a false sense of security.”
“Great.”
“But, PJ, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay, so talk. What’s up?”
Robert became quiet all of a sudden. He took a swig of his coffee and ran his hand through his hair. In spite of declaring he wanted to talk, he said nothing for several moments.
PJ stared at him. She could swear he looked nervous. “Robert, are you all right? What’s wrong?”
His brow furrowed. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He shut his mouth again.
“Did something happen? Am I in trouble?”
He eyed PJ. “For once, this isn’t about you, PJ. At least, not directly.” Robert looked around. There wasn’t anyone sitting close to them, and no one seemed interested in their conversation. Still, he lowered his voice so PJ could hardly hear it. “It’s about Nanci.”
PJ’s hackles rose immediately. “Nanci? What about her?”
“Shh.”
PJ lowered her voice to match Robert’s. “Now I’m worried. Is she all right?”
“She’s all right. I think.”
PJ felt the blood drain from her face. “You think? What’s happened, Robert? What’s wrong with her? Was she caught trespassing?”
Robert frowned. “What makes you think that?”
“Her little investigation club. Isn’t that what she’s been doing?”
“Oh, that. No one’s complained about that as far as I’ve heard. She just walks up and down the ravine with Bridget, looking for clues with her magnifying glass. It’s cute, really.”
“Then what? Spit it out, dude. You’re freaking me out here.”
Robert sipped his coffee. He ran a hand through his hair again. His hair was already sticking up from his previous intrusion and now looked positively spiky.
“Robert, what?”
“It’s hard for me to talk about this. We haven’t mentioned it in years. And I never wanted to believe it.”
PJ’s heart thudded against her rib cage. “Spit it out! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What’s wrong with Nanci?”
Robert opened his mouth, but no words came out. He shut his mouth again. He smoothed his tie against his chest.
“Goodness, Robert. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Now tell me so I can help. What’s she done? Is she in trouble at school?”
“No, not that I know of. She always does really well.”
Suddenly, PJ had a thought. Nanci was twelve. It was possible her time of change was nigh. “Is it puberty?”
Robert froze and stared at PJ. “Puberty?”
“You know. Her… woman’s… thing.”
“Oh. You mean her period.”
PJ blushed.
“Jeepers, PJ. Don’t be embarrassed about that. I’m not. But it’s not actually anything like that. I don’t think, anyway.”
PJ sighed. “I’m out of ideas then. You’re going to have to actually tell me.”
“PJ,” Robert began. “Nanci, uh…”
“Yes?”
“Well, it’s stupid.” Robert snickered at himself.
“Fine, so tell me anyway.”
Robert took a deep breath and looked PJ directly in the eyes. “PJ, Nanci thinks she’s been turning into a cat at night.”
— 17 —
Camping
That Friday, PJ and Robert were in Robert’s pickup headed to school to pick up Nanci. After Robert’s incredible revelation, PJ could only think that they needed some time together, the three of them, alone, where she could watch Nanci and see if Robert’s fears were actualized. They decided to go on a campout, just the three of them. Didi was happy to have a weekend to herself.
Robert pulled into the middle school parking lot and stopped. They were a few minutes early.
Robert rubbed his chin. “It’s impossible, right, PJ?” he said. “People don’t turn into cats.”
For nearly two decades, they hadn’t talked about what Robert had seen that night in the weeks after their mom’s death when PJ moved in with him. They had avoided talking about the issue for so long that PJ found herself unable to speak for several moments.
“I need your help with this, PJ,” Robert said. “This is far outside my expertise, if you can call it that. I can’t believe it. But she’s my daughter. My baby. I can’t turn my back on her.”
“You mean like you turned your back on me.”
Suddenly, there were tears in Robert’s eyes. He swallowed and the waters lessened, but the sheen stayed in his golden-brown eyes. “That’s not fair, PJ. I did the best I could with you.”
PJ dropped her gaze to his brown-booted feet. “I’m sorry. That was mean. You have done a lot for me—more than I probably deserve.”
“PJ, I’m sorry, but this isn’t about you. Or maybe it is. But not in that way. That stuff is behind us, whether we like it or not.”
PJ nodded silently. There were tears burning behind her own eyes now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried in front of her brother—if ever. Her mom had instilled in her the need to be silent about her curse; it was physical in its intensity. Even now, she couldn’t bring herself to say the unspeakable. How was she going to help Nanci if she couldn’t even bring herself to talk directly about her own problem? This camping trip had to cover a lot of distance between her and Robert, and between her and herself.
“Robert…”
He stared at her. Their eyes locked.
PJ swallowed heavily. “Did you see her change?”
Robert’s sharp intake of breath startled PJ. She felt cold adrenaline pour down her neck, and her scalp tingled. The fight-or-flight instinct in humans was stupid, she thought. The last thing she was going to do was slug Robert, although she did feel like fleeing from the truck, screaming and waving her arms around. But she’d have to come back if she did that, come back and face her destiny. She’d have to struggle with it, like Robert was struggling with it. A flash through PJ’s mind made her realize Robert had been living with his worst fears for twelve years—the fear his child was a monster, and there would be no denying it when he finally saw it. PJ also recalled how he had to take a lie detector test every year. She wondered how deep the questioning got and if this was going to be an issue on Monday when he went to Indy for his test.
Robert was taking deep breaths. It had been nearly two minutes since PJ’s question, and he finally answered.
“I tried to stay up last night. But she was still a girl at midnight, three a.m., and five a.m. But, you know, I had to be in bed sometimes so Didi doesn’t get wind of this.”
“She doesn’t know? Nanci didn’t tell her?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Nanci not to?”
Robert’s lips pressed into a thin slit. Then he said, “Yes. You think that was wrong?”
The bell rang. Shortly, students started emerging from the building and congregating around the schoolyard.
“No, actually I think the fewer people involved, the better for Nanci. Whatever happens, she has a normal life now, and we can help her keep it.”
He exhaled heavily through an open mouth, and in his eyes, PJ saw distinct gratitude. “Yes, that is what I’m hoping for. More than I can hope for.”
“It’ll be okay, Robert, whatever is happening or not happening. She’s normal, and she’ll be fine. Even the freaky Peeping Jane photo-psychic has something like a satisfying life, with friends and everything. So let’s figure this out.”
“Tonight we’ll both watch her. You know, normally surveillance is done with two people minimum. One has to keep their eyes on the subject at all times, every second, and the other one keeps notes, tells jokes, or does whatever is necessary to keep the watcher awake, fed, and entertained.”
They saw Nanci emerge from the school doors and come t
oward them.
“Don’t worry, Robert,” PJ said. “We have the whole weekend. We’ll figure it out.”
* * *
The weather was perfect. They set up their two-chambered tent under a bright blue sky on a bed of pine needles and packed earth in the shelter of many budding trees. They moved the site’s picnic table into the mesh vestibule of the tent and hung a lantern so they had a serviceable dining room as well as a spacious bedroom with three fat air mattresses. By six, they were seated around a roaring campfire. Nanci was reading a Nancy Drew book, Robert was checking his messages on his tablet, and PJ was sitting comfortably and staring at the sky above the treetops. It would have been an idyllic family campout, save for the fact the sun was slowly but steadily dipping on the horizon. PJ figured she had two hours before her change. She didn’t quite know what to expect. She wasn’t going to do it in front of Nanci, and she wondered how they would react to her afterward, when she was a black tabby. Would they smack her with a broom and shoo her away? She hoped not because she was looking forward to helping Robert with his surveillance. He could watch Nanci, and she would be entertainment.
For dinner, Robert cooked steaks he pulled from a cooler in the back of his truck. They had salad with the steaks and apple pie with partially melted ice cream for dessert. Nanci said it was the best day ever and the best meal ever.
Just after eight, PJ said she had to go.
“Go?” Nanci asked. “Go where? It’s getting dark soon. Are you scared?”
One of the excuses for their camping trip involved PJ’s well-known phobia of the dark. They had told Nanci and Didi that PJ would be taking a long walk in the woods at sundown, sort of an exposure therapy, since being alone in the woods in the dark was the scariest thing anyone with PJ’s affliction could imagine. In reality, of course, PJ couldn’t be less afraid. As a cat, she felt she owned the darkness, being more comfortable and having better eyesight than mono-modal humans.
“Nanci, remember we talked about this?” PJ said. “Remember we said that if you can’t handle something, sometimes the best thing is to just dive in the deep end and see how it goes? But you and your dad will be close by if I really need help.”
“Okay.” Nanci returned to her book.