Cat Scratch Fever

by Sophie Mouette

  Mel laughed. ‘Besides, Felicia, I know what happened to that aloe I gave you. We want the plants to live!’

  ‘If you need more hands,’ Gabe said, ‘I’m a pretty good gardener for a city boy.’ He smiled a little oddly and Felicia remembered how he’d supposedly done community service on a farm.

  It wasn’t until the others left to go about their day that Felicia realised how quiet Gabe had been. He hadn’t said a word other than to volunteer, and hadn’t met her eyes for the whole discussion. And, since she’d been having trouble not staring at him, she was sure about that.

  He’d been friendly earlier, if a little cautious. But that made sense. The whole not-exactly-a-date and caught-in-a-towel situation might make him unsure how to treat her, and they hadn’t really had a chance to talk since. Now, it seemed like he was ashamed of something.

  And what was he still doing here anyway, let alone volunteering to help out on Saturday? Most of the real staff had gone home, except for the ones who might as well stop paying rent and move into their offices.

  She didn’t like where her mind was going, but he’d said he was a former juvenile delinquent, a vandal. What if the damage to the pipes hadn’t been accidental? He’d been here at some mighty odd hours.

  Was he staying on site hoping for a chance to make more trouble? Or at least to poke around and see how much more dirt he could unearth while things were quiet?

  All she knew for certain was that it was going to be a long weekend. An even longer one, if Gabe was on site for all of it.

  * * *

  Alan walked carefully through the dark Sanctuary. At least they’d got a lot of the contaminated soil out of the way during the day, and a fresh breeze was picking up, cutting through the heat and dispersing the stench, but the work had left large holes behind. They were marked off by caution tape, but he still had this fear that the ground might open up under his feet. Strange shapes loomed in the darkness – just a backhoe and some other equipment the Sanitation Department team had left behind, but they looked like something out of a monster movie.

  He glanced behind him at the machinery and swore he saw movement. ‘Who’s there?’ he yelled, and trained the beam of his Maglite on the destroyed courtyard.

  Nothing.

  And who the hell did he think would be there anyway? The Jolly Green Giant’s smellier cousin? He was looking at a hole that led down to the sewer pipe.

  Still, he investigated, checking around the construction equipment.

  Nothing. Not a sign of life, not even a footprint other than the baked ones left by the work crew.

  Ever since that incident with the open cage, he’d been on edge. Too many weird things had been happening at the Sanctuary, enough that he was starting to see a pattern when maybe there wasn’t one.

  Occam’s Razor, they called it: the simplest explanation was usually best. The simplest explanation was that they’d just been having a run of bad luck. All the equipment was old and most of it was jerry-rigged – no wonder things broke down.

  But he’d been a cop for thirty years, and something stank here besides the sewage. Occam, whoever he was, was no doubt a smart guy, but Alan was keeping his eyes peeled, just in case.

  And, if he jumped at shadows, well, there was no one here to see him.

  After crossing the courtyard and cutting behind the buildings, he began to patrol the area along the back fence. Away from the road, it was blessedly quiet. He could hear insects whirring and the night sounds of the cats.

  And a voice and some rustling.

  Maybe he was imagining things again, but he didn’t think so. It sounded like they were coming from near the back corner, where the fence came close to a quiet cul-de-sac.

  Cautiously, he approached, moving as quietly as a rather large older man could.

  Yes, someone was definitely there. Maybe a few someones. They weren’t talking much, but he heard movement and what sounded like the clink of metal on metal.

  He wheeled around the corner, regretting he only had a Maglite and a security guard’s uniform, not a gun and a whole department to call for back-up if he needed it. If the intruders were armed, it could be trouble.

  ‘Hold it right there, buddy!’ he said in his best cop’s voice, illuminating the area.

  Two figures were fleeing. He tried to give chase, but in the dark lost them quickly. He hadn’t got a good look at the punks, but they’d appeared to be young guys, maybe Lance’s age, one white, one darker. And they’d left their wire cutters behind.

  * * *

  Lance stopped his work to watch Mel walk away, pushing a wheelbarrow full of plants. Sweet. That chick’s ass was just about perfect, and even her baggy khaki shorts and the smears of dirt on her legs didn’t hurt the scenic view.

  He’d always had a thing for Asian girls, but he’d met two kinds: the snooty, college-bound type who didn’t have time for guys like Lance Boudreaux and the tough type who hung out with the Vietnamese gang members. Some of them were pretty hot, but he liked keeping his skin intact, thanks. Besides, they probably wouldn’t have time for him either. He didn’t have a fancy ride or money to spoil a girl. Maybe someday, but not now, and the guys who ran with the gangs already had it.

  Mel was different. She talked to him for real and, what’s more, she listened. She was one of the smart ones – she’d gone to Stanford and you don’t get there by being dumb – but her family didn’t sound like rich snobs. More like normal people who’d produced some real brainy kids. And, smart as she was, she obviously didn’t care about money or expensive stuff or she’d be…oh, a lawyer or something.

  Or a porn star. She could make a lot of money doing that. She was definitely hotter than Asia Carrera. Not as stacked, but what she had was obviously real, and that was nice. Oh yeah, he could picture her moaning and writhing before the camera…

  No, actually he couldn’t. Despite the best efforts of what he liked to consider a pretty creatively dirty mind, he couldn’t convince himself it was Mel’s style, although some of the images he came up with in his efforts were worth remembering.

  Now that blonde chick, the one he’d heard was the new caterer, he could definitely imagine her as a porn star. She had the awesome body, the big hair, and even the right ‘look at me’ attitude.

  And he’d caught her looking at him like he was ice cream or something. He wondered if she was really interested or just a flirt. She’d be fun to do – too high-maintenance to date, probably, but definitely fun to do. He’d love to get his cock between those tits to warm up, and then let her wrap those mile-long legs around him and drive into her hard. Maybe he’d come on her tits and her face, a real money shot, because she really did remind him of a porn star and he could picture her grinning lecherously as her tongue darted out to catch a few droplets.

  Now with Mel it would be different. He’d be gentle, take his time, lick her until she was babbling and begging for his cock. She’d probably like to be on top. It wasn’t his favourite position, but women seemed to enjoy it and, if you managed to get someone as special as Mel into bed, you’d want to make her real happy so she’d come back again. On the other hand, she was a little thing, but strong. They could try some exotic positions, standing up, holding her upside down, stuff like that.

  Someone swatted him on the head. ‘Hey, anyone home?’

  He looked up into two very familiar faces. Just (‘because Justin’s a wuss name’) and Dog were a couple of his oldest friends, but he hadn’t been seeing a lot of them lately. Not since he’d been given a choice between cleaning up his act and spending some quality time in jail. Just was small and scrawny, but wiry, with nocolour hair and almost colourless eyes. Like Lance, he was white trash to the bone and, unlike Lance, proud of it. Dog, by contrast, was about six foot three, a solid muscular dark mixture of, as far as Lance could figure out, every race that had ever set foot in North America.

  ‘Hey, guys.’ He realised he should probably sound happier to see them, but they’d interrupted a really
sweet fantasy.

  ‘What’s on your mind, dude? We’ve been standing here for like five minutes trying to talk to ya,’ Just said.

  ‘Look at his boner, man. What do you think’s on his mind?’

  ‘Quit looking at my crotch, Dog.’ He glanced down, trying to be casual about it. Dog was always saying shit like that, so it was probably a lucky guess. How bad could it be under the baggy coveralls?

  Oh. That bad. He felt his face getting red and decided he had to defend himself.

  ‘Do you think I’d be out here playing with flowers if there wasn’t a hot piece of ass involved?’ He felt bad calling Mel a piece of ass, but it was the way the guys always talked when there were no girls around. But Mel would probably be mad if she heard him talking about her that way. And he wouldn’t be surprised if she could kick his butt. He’d seen martial arts movies. It was the tiny pretty ones you needed to watch out for.

  ‘So there’s a hottie here?’ Dog, in keeping with his nickname, was always interested in the ladies.

  ‘Plenty of ’em,’ he bragged. The caterer definitely fitted into that category, and Felicia was good-looking too, even if she was a suit. Even the director was cute in her way, although she was old, at least forty, and he was pretty sure she was a dyke. ‘But one super-special hottie.’ He raised an eyebrow and grinned, letting them think she was special as in his girl, not special as in, well, special.

  Dog nodded knowingly. ‘That explains it. We thought you’d gone all goody-goody on us or something. But, if you’ve got a new girl, maybe you’ve just been busy.’ He thrust forwards with his hips, making Just snort with laughter.

  ‘You might say.’ It wasn’t actually a lie. He had been busy, just not that way (which was a damn shame). It wouldn’t occur to those guys that he might be busy working. He actually had a job now, plus the community service here and the classes he was taking. But they’d probably laugh if he told them that.

  They snorted again, giving each other high fives.

  And, for the first time ever, Lance looked at his friends and thought, Get some class, assholes.

  Did he sound that dumb sometimes?

  Yeah, maybe. At least he used to. He’d been trying, listening to some of the guys who worked at SCCS and at the restaurant, hoping it would help him make a good impression on Mel. And now that he had some idea of how ignorant he sounded, he was almost scared to talk sometimes.

  At least with Just and Dog he could relax about that. Next to them, he’d sound like one of those brainy public-TV guys.

  ‘So, what’s up? This ain’t your kind of cat house. They don’t have that kind of pussy here.’

  That got them. He knew it would.

  Once they stopped laughing, Just said, ‘We was looking for you. Your cell phone must have lost its buttons or something, so we went by your place and your mama said you were here.’

  ‘Phone’s dead. I gotta get a new one, but I put some moves on this geek girl at Best Buy and she said they’d have some sweet deals next week so I’m waiting.’

  Actually the phone was fine. He just hadn’t called the guys back because…well, he really wasn’t sure why. Now that he saw them again, it seemed stupid. He’d missed them, even if they were asshats sometimes.

  Dog looked around several times before he spoke. ‘Isn’t it about time for you to have a smoke?’

  Lance had just about quit smoking – he couldn’t do it here, at school or at work and by now he’d almost stopped jonesing – but he got the point immediately.

  ‘Sure.’ He stuck his head through the gate. Mel wasn’t anywhere in sight, but Gabe was. (That guy was everywhere. What did he do, anyway? Right now he was helping with the plants, of course, but usually he was wandering around with a clipboard, looking busy but not actually working in any way Lance could recognise. Whatever it was, it left him with time to bug Lance about his plans for the future sometimes, like he was his social worker or something.) ‘Hey, if you see Mel, tell her I’m taking a ciggy break. I’ll be back in a few.’

  He was gone before Gabe could react.

  Instead of smoking, though, he headed down the street and climbed into Dog’s car with the guys.

  ‘So,’ Just said bluntly, ‘you want to help us on a job?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t do jobs any more. Not while I’m on probation. It’s not worth it.’

  ‘It’s not stealing or nothing,’ Dog said quickly. ‘Just kid stuff – breaking shit, a little tagging. Stuff we used to do for fun, only we’re getting paid this time.’

  ‘How much?’ Money was tight. He’d like to move out of his mom’s place, but that took cash. And Mel wasn’t all about the bling, but girls always appreciated a nice dinner out, or real presents, not crap like the coffee mug from the Dollar Store he’d left on her desk the other day.

  Just named a figure that sounded ridiculously large for what Dog had described.

  Lance whistled. ‘And I’d get a third of that?’

  ‘Dude, that would be your cut!’

  Forget taking Mel out to dinner. He could take her to Vegas for the weekend with that kind of cash and still have money left. (First he’d have to get her to agree, of course, but hey, she was single and he knew women liked his looks, and she’d been working hard and could use a vacation. Why would she say no?)

  But something didn’t sound right. Lance hadn’t been a whiz kid in school, but money made sense to him. ‘Wait a minute. If all you’re doing is trashing some stuff, why do you need me? You’re less likely to get caught with just two guys and you’d make a lot more.’

  Dog put his hand on Lance’s shoulder. ‘We miss you, man. We want you running with us again.’

  ‘And it’s no big deal. No stealing, no messing people up,’ Just emphasised. ‘Just wrecking stuff and spray-painting. Almost no chance of getting caught. It’s a nobrainer. We’ve done this a million times.’

  ‘Only when we’re done, we’ll get some sweet money.’

  Lance thought hard. He kind of liked the straight life, not that he’d admit it to the guys – no looking over his shoulder all the time, no worrying about the cops or about stepping on the toes of someone a lot bigger and meaner than he was, and actually getting to meet people like Mel instead of just stealing their wallets – but being goddamn broke all the time was getting to him.

  ‘Let me think about it. I’ll call you later. But I’ve got to get back to work before they ask too many questions.’

  It was tempting. Seriously tempting. But why would someone pay so much for kid-stuff like vandalism? And what weren’t the guys telling him?

  10

  Felicia called a meeting in the vet clinic – herself, José, Mel, and Alan. She checked outside the door before she joined the others, propping one hip on the examining table and trying not to think about the raucous sex she’d had on it less than a week ago. José sat on a metal rolling stool, and Mel had pulled out the desk chair and straddled it backwards. Alan stood in a corner, his expression serious; Felicia realised she rarely saw him sit when he was on duty.

  ‘No Katherine?’ José asked.

  ‘She’s got enough on her plate,’ Felicia said. ‘I want to reduce her stress, not add to it.’ She turned to Alan. ‘In no way am I questioning the work that you do – you’re fantastic, and you almost caught the bastards last night. But you’re only one man, and you can’t be everywhere on site at the same time.’

  ‘Could we get Brett to help out?’ Alan referred to the college student who covered for him two nights a week. ‘Not that I think he does much but hide in the office and do homework.’

  ‘We can’t afford to pay him for more hours, and he hasn’t been here long enough that we can expect him to just volunteer.’ She looked at all of them. ‘It’s up to us.’

  ‘I’m already staying on site to watch over Noelle and the cubs,’ José said. ‘They need a couple more days’ attention.’

  ‘Which is the best thing you can be doing,’ Felicia said. ‘If Mel and I also stay
on site tonight, we should be able to patrol effectively.’

  ‘I’m in,’ Mel said firmly, a determined look on her elfin face.

  José nodded, looking like he was about to say something, but then didn’t.

  ‘I’m not offended – I appreciate the help,’ Alan said. ‘I’ve thought about calling in some favours, but I know you don’t want word getting around that we have a problem.’

  Felicia’s jaw clenched. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax before she gave herself another tension headache. ‘It may be too late for that, but I appreciate the fact that you thought about it,’ she said, and the security guard flushed, ducking his head to hide a shy smile. ‘I want to keep things quiet – I don’t want anyone else to know that we plan to stay tonight,’ she said to the group. ‘I hate to say it, but we don’t know who we can trust.’

  * * *

  ‘Who there is trustworthy?’ Tom asked.

  Gabe scanned his surroundings before replying, making sure nobody was within hearing range. The tables in the centre of the Sanctuary green were perfect for keeping an eye on a fair radius, but not at all private, except for the fact that nobody could sneak up on him.

  Christ. He sounded like a paranoid spy. A spy up to his eyeballs in shit – literally.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I haven’t been here long enough to do psych profiles on the entire staff, OK? Most of them seem to be on the up and up and to really care about the place, but anybody could be a good enough actor when I’m around.’

  He’d seen a semi-furtive enclave gather in the vet clinic. At this point, as much as he wanted to believe the people inside were the good guys, he had no proof either way. They could be plotting. They could be having an orgy, for all he knew.

  He forced his mind away from that before his body joined the mental party. ‘All I know is that there’s been vandalism, and they don’t have enough security to keep an eye on the whole place. Under normal circumstances, one or two people would be enough, but not now. Too much shit has been happening to be random, Tom.’