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Cat Nap

Page 16

by Claire Donally


  “Where is he?” she asked, beginning to get worried now.

  “Well, he was pretty mad at being chased around by that pup,” Mike said.

  Sunny remembered Shadow standing at bay on the living room chair, his tail sweeping back and forth like a metronome. “Maybe he took off to the garage.”

  But while the garage was full of a lot of things—like all of the stuff Sunny had saved from her New York apartment—it was definitely devoid of cat.

  “That was the last time I saw him,” she said, “up on the chair.”

  “A lot of stuff happened after that,” Mike pointed out. “We had that nasty spill for Helena, we rushed over to help her—”

  “We left the door open,” Sunny said through a suddenly tight throat.

  Mike blinked. “You think he wandered off while we were getting Helena back on her feet? Why would he do that? It had just snowed, for heaven’s sake. And between the wind and the cold, well, I was glad to get back indoors.”

  “Maybe he came out to see what was going on, and we didn’t notice him.” Sunny sped back into the house, to the front door.

  “We’d have noticed him, all right,” Mike said, coming after her. “That hairball is a regular Pavarotti when it comes to yowling and meowing. I’d have definitely heard him. Hell, you’d have heard him, even upstairs.”

  Sunny threw the door open to expose a carpet of white. There were tire ruts and sections of Wild Goose Drive where the snow had been scraped away. But the wind had pretty much erased her footprints coming back from the Wrangler. As for any other marks in the snow from earlier, they were just gone.

  A blast of wind froze Sunny’s face and sent a spray of loose snow onto the hall floor. But however frigid it was outside, that was nothing compared to the cold that Sunny suddenly felt around her heart.

  Mike gently touched her shoulder. “You thought he might be sitting there, waiting?”

  “I guess it was a silly idea, but yes,” Sunny admitted. “It’s freezing cold out there. Where would he go? Why would he go?” That question almost came out as a wail.

  “We don’t know that he went anywhere,” Mike told her. “We know he was upset at having his place invaded, and that he can hold a grudge—and sulk—for a while. Maybe he’s found a new hiding place and is using it to punish us. Maybe tomorrow he’ll wake up in a better mood and we’ll find him in the kitchen. I’d leave a little food in his bowl. If anything is likely to bring him out, it’s that.”

  “That’s probably good advice,” Sunny said. But she couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice as she spoke.

  She did as Mike suggested, even splurging on the canned stuff that Shadow particularly liked. But she spent the rest of the night patrolling the house, looking for any signs of her cat. Then she put on her coat and searched outside, too.

  Sunny awoke the next morning bleary-eyed. She hadn’t slept well, worrying about Shadow, and she certainly didn’t feel any better when she came down to the kitchen and found his food and water untouched. Mike was already down, starting on breakfast. He looked at Sunny and just shrugged.

  Bracing herself, Sunny opened the kitchen door to test the weather. It was cold and calm—no wind at all. Sunny held tight to the doorknob until her hand hurt. The newest layer of snow on the lawn had been disturbed. She saw footprints, and they were too big to be a squirrel’s.

  No, those were cat prints, and they led down to the newly plowed road and disappeared.

  *

  Maybe I’m being hasty, Shadow thought as he trotted along the side of the road. He hadn’t seen the usual things that happened before he got kicked out of a house. No arguments, no cutting back on food, no kicks or shouting. They’d just made such a big deal out of that stupid Biscuit Eater.

  Letting it chase me around my house! The memory still burned. If the beast had been older, a little bigger, he might have let the claws come out. But doing that to a little one, that was a sure way to get tossed out of the house. So he’d been forced to the top of the chair, like a stray chased up a tree, not by a real Biscuit Eater, but a toy one. And all the two-legs had made happy noises!

  He hadn’t seen much to be happy about. Oh, Sunny had come to him after the pup had left, but Shadow had had no intention of being second best. He had avoided her hands.

  And then Sunny had just left him! She’d run out and hadn’t even bothered to close the door. When he saw it standing open in front of him, Shadow had taken the hint. He’d left, too.

  Not the best planning. If he’d been smart, he’d have eaten something first. It would have been too much to hope that he could bring his pleasant bed or the furry thing that gave him comfort. He’d found shelter under the deck, a place he’d used before. There were still leaves to curl up under, and most of the wind hadn’t been able to get in at him.

  So, now . . . from his wandering days, he knew a couple of houses where the two-legs inside left out food for traveling cats. It would be cold, and he’d have to keep an eye out for competition, but he didn’t think he’d starve. He’d need to find a warmer place to sleep. The deck was all right for an emergency, but it wasn’t a long-term proposition.

  Besides, it was too close. When he’d wrapped his tail around his paws and settled himself as comfortably as possible, he’d spotted a light dancing in the darkness outside. And he’d heard Sunny calling his name. For a wild moment, he’d considered bursting out of his hiding place and running to her.

  Instead, he’d kept silent and lain quietly. He’d had disagreements with humans before, and they’d made up and been happy . . . for a while. Sooner or later, though, Shadow had ended up looking for a new home.

  He just couldn’t stand to do that with Sunny, to hope that things would be better and then have them not be better . . . No. He had gotten by without her before, and he could do it again.

  A truck came by, sending a thin spray of slush that Shadow dodged.

  He just wished it had happened in spring, not in the middle of winter.

  *

  Sunny went in to work, but luckily, winter Mondays were pretty light, because not much MAX business got accomplished that morning. She ran through the incoming e-mails with half an eye and made a few notes for later. Then she used the office resources for her own project.

  Before she left the house, Sunny had transferred several photos of Shadow from her laptop to a flash drive. Now she moved the pictures to her work computer and started composing a poster. LOST CAT, the headline read in nearly two-inch-tall type. Then she inserted Shadow’s picture, one where the stripes showed through on his gray fur. Then, GRAY TIGER-STRIPED CAT. ANSWERS TO THE NAME SHADOW. IF YOU FIND HIM OR HAVE ANY INFORMATION, CALL 207-555-4841.

  And after considerable thought, she centered a final word at the bottom of the page: REWARD.

  How much that would be, she couldn’t be sure. It would depend on whatever information she got, what condition the cat turned up in.

  God, she thought, I hope he turns up all right.

  She’d raided some of the boxes from her old apartment. The one holding stationery had the remains of a ream of fluorescent orange paper that she’d used for party invitations. If nothing else, it would catch people’s eye. Sunny printed out the finished poster, proofread it one last time, and then ran off copies on the office copier until she’d exhausted her paper supply.

  The pile of posters went on one corner of her desk with her stapler on top. She’d start putting them up around town during lunch hour. Now it was time to tap into the Kittery Harbor Gossip Hotline. Sunny had already asked her dad to spread the word, although she hadn’t mentioned the idea of a reward to him. Mike might find that just a bit too much.

  Sunny managed to time her call to Helena Martinson just right. Her neighbor was home and awake, but hadn’t gotten the news about Shadow yet.

  What Sunny hadn’t planned on was how upset Mrs. M. became when she heard. “He ran away? I know he got a little annoyed when Toby tried to play with him, but I didn’t think he’d ru
n off.”

  “We’re not sure what happened,” Sunny said. “Things were pretty confused.”

  “You and Mike came out to help when I fell down.” Helena’s voice only got more distressed. “And you left the door open. Is that when he got out?”

  Maybe this was a bad idea, Sunny thought as she tried to calm her neighbor down. “We really don’t know,” she said. “Speaking of that fall, how are you doing?”

  “I’m a little stiff,” Helena replied. “But that won’t affect my dialing finger! I’ll get the news out.” She paused for a second. “Are you putting up posters?”

  “Just made a bunch of them,” Sunny said.

  “Don’t waste time trying to put them all up yourself,” Mrs. Martinson advised. “Have your dad pick up some—he can post them around the neighborhood. I’ll take a few as well, to get them up in some other areas.”

  If she wants to turn into Cat-Finding Central, okay. Sunny’s hard-bitten reporter alter ego sounded a little rueful today. It’s better than having her blame herself.

  When Sunny estimated her father had finished with his three miles of hiking off in outlet-land, she called him at home. “I’ve got some posters to put up,” she told him. “And Mrs. Martinson asks that you bring her some.”

  “Always glad to see Helena,” he said. “I just hope that puppy of hers doesn’t try to chew on them.” He promised to be in shortly. Sunny set aside half of her pile for him.

  Even as she waited, Mrs. Martinson’s telephone tree began to bear fruit. First came a call from Ken Howell. “I hear your cat has gone missing,” he said.

  “I don’t think that’s front-page news,” Sunny told him.

  “No, but I think we could run a notice in the community bulletin board on the back page,” Ken replied. “Do you have a picture?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “It’s not an ad,” Ken told her. “It’s just professional courtesy.”

  “It’s darned nice,” Sunny corrected. “I’ll e-mail you a picture right away.”

  “Got an office cat, you know,” Ken said. “In an old building like this, you sort of need one.”

  Sunny blinked in surprise. “Really? I’ve never seen him.”

  “He hides whenever people come in,” Ken explained. “And there are a lot of places around here for a cat to vanish himself.”

  “That’s true,” Sunny had to admit.

  “I call him Harvey, because people think he’s my imaginary friend.” Ken paused for a second. “I’d sure hate it, though, if he started hiding from me.”

  No sooner did Sunny hang up the phone than Zack Judson appeared at her door. “I heard about Shadow,” he said. “You know, before he went to live with you, he’d stop by the store sometimes.”

  Sunny sat straight in her chair with surprise. “Really?”

  Zack nodded. “If he turns up, I’ll try to keep him there—and at least let you know.” He looked down at her pile of posters. “And I’ll put one of these up in our front window. If you can spare a few, I’ll give ’em to my delivery guys to post farther out of town, get those Piney Brook people looking for him, too.”

  Sunny peeled off a sheaf of posters for him. “I really appreciate—”

  Zack shrugged off her thanks. “Your dad and I go way back. Happy to help.”

  He left, and Sunny sank back in her seat. Maybe I’m not as much of an outsider as I imagined, she thought.

  Just as she was considering closing up the office to plaster the downtown area with posters, Will Price knocked on the office door.

  “If you’re coming to tell me that the sheriff’s department is joining in the hunt, that’ll just be too much.”

  “What hunt?” Will asked in bafflement.

  Sunny handed him a poster. “Oh,” Will said. Then he looked at her more closely. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear this.” Even though he was in uniform, Will dropped his usual cop persona. “I’m back on the day shift now, so I’ll try to keep an eye out for Shadow.” He smiled at her, trying to cheer her up. “I don’t know if I can convince Sheriff Nesbit to join in the hunt, but you have a couple of friends among the constables. I’ll get the word out there.”

  “Thanks,” she told him. “Every bit helps.” She took a deep breath, thinking of how quickly Shadow had adopted her. “Even if he’s landed with another family, I just want to know he’s all right.”

  “I know,” Will said gently.

  “So, if my cat didn’t bring you in, what brought you by?”

  That snapped Will back to police mode. “I spent the weekend carefully reaching out to some buddies on the Portsmouth force,” he said. “They tell me there are some newcomers in town, lending money.”

  “Oh-ho,” Sunny said. “From foreign parts?”

  Will nodded. “Turns out they’re Ukrainian, not Russian. Guy named Danilo Shostak seems to be the brains of the operation, with someone called Olek Linko acting as the muscle.”

  Sunny nodded. The names matched what she knew, and what she’d told Will.

  “It seems the Ukrainians made a specialty of smuggling, which includes moving money around,” Will went on. “Nobody is sure how big a deal this is, but it sounds like the major players in Providence gave the okay, and a Ukrainian operation in Montreal sent Shostak down. So far he’s kept a real low profile.”

  “Avoiding trouble,” Sunny murmured.

  “That’s one way to put it,” Will agreed. “So if Jane’s ex was involved with him, he can’t be very happy with Rigsdale getting killed. Sooner or later, Trumbull is going to start shining some light where this guy won’t want it shone. I mean, he’s got to be going over Rigsdale’s books.”

  And when that happens, Dani will have to go on vacation, Sunny thought. He’ll either have to find the money Martin stole to give his bosses, or he’ll squeeze it out of Jane.

  Will misread her expression. “I’m sorry to come in and mention this stuff while you’re worrying over Shadow.”

  “No, I think it helps to take my mind off that,” she told him.

  Because now I can worry about Jane, and the money, and who might have it. Sunny tried not to let her feelings show on her face. Because I haven’t got a clue.

  16

  Sunny went through the motions, gobbling a quick sandwich she’d brought from home and then putting up posters in the hopes of finding Shadow. Store owners offered space in their windows or by their cash registers. Some people she knew and many she didn’t stopped to read the notices and offer their good wishes. A few seemed to know about Shadow’s disappearance already. Sunny looked at the picture on her poster. You’re getting famous around these parts, little guy.

  Unfortunately, none of these folks had any information to offer. They promised to keep an eye open, though.

  Through all that time, Sunny’s brain kept spinning its wheels on the question of where Martin Rigsdale had hidden his ill-gotten gains. Stealing from the Ukrainians in the first place suggested that Martin had intended to get out of Dodge. She was sure that Dani—not to mention Olek—would take a dim view of him making off with the money, especially since it wasn’t even really theirs.

  Equally obviously, something had gone wrong. Dani mentioned finding out about the bank withdrawal before Martin had expected him to. He also mentioned a very foolish bank officer—another victim of Martin’s charm. Apparently, though, Dani didn’t consider the banker to be a coconspirator of Martin’s, which suggested that she had been squeezed dry of information already. Sunny could only hope she hadn’t been squeezed in other ways. She remembered Dani’s graphic demonstration of what Olek could do if he had to.

  If Olek wanted some information out of me, I’d just tell him. Sunny might follow the guy, but she knew her limits.

  Knowing Martin’s preference for feminine companionship, Sunny was pretty sure that he’d planned to run away with someone. But if Dani and Olek had pretty well dismissed the bank officer, it had to be someone else.

  Dawn Featherstone seemed the strong conte
nder—young, impressionable, and looking at her from Martin’s viewpoint, easy to control. Of course, Martin might have been wrong about her. She could be the one who’d killed him. But whether or not she was his girl of choice or his murderer, she should have her hands on more than a hundred grand. She could go someplace far from Maine and open her dream fitness club. Why was she hanging around?

  On the other hand, maybe she didn’t have her hands on the money and was looking for it. In that case, the only way that Sunny would know that Dawn had succeeded was if she suddenly disappeared. That might help Jane with the suspicion of murder thing, but it wouldn’t help her with the Ukrainians.

  Wait a minute. There was another woman in Martin’s life, the dark-haired classy one. Unfortunately, Sunny had no idea whatsoever who that might be.

  Sunny returned to the MAX office feeling tired and drained. And she still hadn’t started any of the day’s business. Stifling yawns, she went to work answering e-mails. The phone rang, and she snatched it up eagerly. Thankfully, she remembered to answer it, “Maine Adventure Xperience,” and not “Any news?” because the voice on the other end was Ollie the Barnacle’s. “Anything exciting turn up today?”

  Sunny decided he didn’t need to hear about Shadow running away. “Nothing that requires an executive decision,” she told him.

  “Okay, it looks as if I’ll be getting back in sometime late tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll probably be in on Wednesday.”

  Sunny was surprised. Ollie usually didn’t give her advance notice on when he was stopping by the office. Maybe he wants to make sure I get rid of all the pizza boxes and beer bottles before he comes in, she thought.

  “Okay,” she said. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” At least he hadn’t called while she was out putting up posters. At least she didn’t think so. Sunny paused for a second. “Do you know anything about loan sharks?”

  “What?” Ollie’s voice got a bit belligerent. “Is somebody saying I’m a loan shark—or that I need one?”

 

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