by Lynn, JB
I left Armani and Marlene whispering about melting g-strings, or some such nonsense, Leslie watching an episode of some fifty-year-old TV show, and Loretta and Templeton making strange noises in their bedroom.
The lizard, dog, cat, and I piled into the car. The four-legged mammals fought about who would ride shotgun while the reptile made himself comfortable on the dashboard.
Ultimately, the cat won the battle. The Doberman, relegated to the back seat, decided to rest her chin on my shoulder, breathing heavily in my ear the whole ride to Armani’s neighborhood, even though I opened her window so that she could stick her head out.
I parked a couple of doors down from Armani’s place and let Piss out so that she could go watch the back door.
“Hungry,” DeeDee whined as the cat disappeared from sight.
“You should have thought of that before we left the house,” the lizard berated.
Wordlessly, I gave the Doberman a rawhide chew and she happily disappeared with it into the back seat.
“Spoiled mutt,” God muttered.
Fidgeting in my seat, I tried to find a comfortable position for the long night.
God stretched out on the dashboard. I could tell from the way he flicked his tail that something was on his mind. I didn’t ask what was bothering him. I was enjoying the silence too much.
It didn’t last.
“You’ve got to do something,” the words tumbled out of his mouth in an avalanche.
“About Mike’s shooter? I’ll work on that tomorrow.”
“Not about Mike, you idiot.”
I resisted telling him that he’d insisted that this idiot bring the bird’s assailant to justice.
“Then what?” I instead asked grudgingly.
“Archie. He’s a menace.”
I didn’t disagree with the assessment. “What do you suggest I do?”
“Whack him.”
I glanced at the lizard sharply. “That seems a bit extreme.”
“I know,” he sighed. “But you have to admit it would be an effective solution.”
“Can we come up with a more workable alternative than me murdering my father?” I requested.
“He’s going to get Armani in trouble.”
“I’ve warned her. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”
“And then you’re going to have to bail them both out of whatever mess they end up in,” God continued like I hadn’t even spoken.
He wasn’t wrong.
I nodded, watching in my rearview mirror as a car slowly rolled up the street behind us.
“Your life is complicated enough,” God continued.
“So, the alternative is to force them both to live with the consequences of their poor decisions?”
The car continued down the road and pulled into a driveway a few houses down. The driver was immediately greeted by the home’s occupant.
“You’re talking in circles,” I told the lizard. “Archie’s in town. All I can do is wait for something to go wrong and then try to fix it.”
“That’s a reactive state, not a proactive one.”
“Proactive being I call the cops on him?”
“It’s a workable solution.”
I frowned. As much of a pain and a danger as my dad was, I didn’t relish the idea of being the one who sent him back to prison.
“Your good heart gets you trampled on,” the lizard warned. “You need to stop being such a pushover.”
“Company!” Piss yowled at the top of her lungs from Armani’s backyard.
“Coming!” DeeDee barked.
“Shhh!” Reaching back, I covered her muzzle for emphasis.
“Stealth, you dingbat. Stealth,” God lectured.
I stared into the dog’s dark eyes. “It’s important we’re quiet. Understand?”
She whined softly.
I released her snout.
“He’s in the house,” Piss reported on an ear-splitting caterwaul.
With God on my shoulder and DeeDee at my heels, we quickly crept around to the back of Armani’s home.
“Did you bring a weapon?” God asked.
“Why don't you ever make decent suggestions at appropriate times?” I whispered back. “Like before I’m in trouble, when I could do something proactive.”
“I guess that means you didn’t,” the lizard said.
“No, I didn’t.”
“But you knew you were taking on a dangerous criminal.”
“I was potentially taking on a dangerous criminal,” I argued. “I didn’t know for sure he’d show up.”
“If the two of you idiots,” Piss hissed, “are done arguing, you might want to see what said dangerous criminal is up to.”
“Maggie call idiot don’t,” DeeDee warned on a low growl.
The cat arched her back.
“Everybody shut up,” I begged. “I need to focus.”
“You need a weapon,” God opined.
“Or, you can just go in and see what the guy is up to,” Piss suggested, staring at the lizard, a bit of a malevolent grin in her voice.
“Do I have to do everything?” the lizard asked indignantly.
“Just this.” Plucking him off my shoulder, I gently placed him near the open door.
I could swear I heard him humming the theme to Mission Impossible as he scampered inside.
The dog, cat, and I retreated to the safety of some darker shadows.
“Could you see anything he was doing?” I asked Piss.
“Sorry, sugar. I really couldn’t see much.”
“Him stop?” DeeDee panted quietly.
“I don’t know,” I told her quickly. It was actually a pretty good question. Did I want to try to stop Armani’s burglar? Or would it be safer just to let him go, and then find out what God had discovered?
“I could trip him,” Piss offered.
“Pain I him could,” DeeDee said, not wanting to be left out of the action.
“Guys,” I said quietly. “I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I think I’m going to have to play this one by ear.”
“I’ll go see what I can see,” Piss announced, running back toward the building.
“Eye one she only has,” DeeDee pointed out.
Once again, she had a good point. Piss only has one good eye. Maybe it wasn’t the best plan to rely on her for her eyewitness abilities.
“You stay here,” I ordered the dog.
Sighing, she flopped onto the ground and put her head between her paws.
Hugging the shadows, I crept carefully toward the backdoor.
“Why are you tiptoeing?” Piss asked, startling me.
I yelped.
Then slapped my hand over my own mouth.
Blondie, the burglar, must have heard me because he walked to the door and peered out into the night.
I dropped to my knees, praying he wouldn’t see me.
“You?” the man thundered incredulously.
“I think he sees you,” God drawled drily from where he sat on the cat’s back.
I reached out and plucked him off the cat’s shoulder and put him on mine.
“Get up,” the lizard urged.
The burglar advanced toward me. “What is your problem?”
The man barreled toward me. I caught a glint of metal in his hand.
“DeeDee!” I screamed, scrambling to get to my feet.
“Yes?” she barked softly.
“Help!”
But it was too late, the man was practically upon me, and I’d been stupid enough to come unarmed.
Thankfully, Piss wasn’t.
With an ear-splitting yowl, claws unsheathed, she launched herself
at him.
Startled by the noise, the man tripped, falling to the ground with a thud.
“Impressive,” God told the cat as I put some distance between us and our would-be attacker.
“Fire!” DeeDee barked, galloping toward us.
“A little late and a lot wrong,” God
complained.
“Fire!” She skidded to a stop in front of me and stared up expectantly.
“Good try, sweetheart,” I told her, keeping most of my attention on the man who was getting to his feet.
“Fire!” she insisted with her loudest bark.
“Oh shut up!” God yelled. “You mindless mutt.”
“She’s right,” Piss interrupted. “I smell smoke.”
Forgetting the threat posed by the man, I turned around and saw an eerie glow illuminating the interior of Armani’s home.
“Fire,” God and I muttered simultaneously.
“So told you,” DeeDee pouted.
Blondie charged toward the door.
I darted out of his way, running into the Doberman, and found myself battling gravity to stay upright.
Once I’d regained my balance, I looked to see where the man was, but he wasn’t advancing on me. He was running toward the fire.
I hesitated, unsure of what to do.
“Call 9-1-1,” God urged. “You did bring your phone, didn’t you? Or would that require too much proactivity on your part?”
Fighting the urge to tell him where he could stick his sarcasm, I whipped out my phone and told the dispatcher the problem and location. I didn’t mention the intruder.
Or the fact that I was about to follow him into a burning building.
Chapter Eleven
“Fire, fire, fire,” DeeDee whined worriedly.
“Great,” the lizard muttered, “now she’s picking up the mouse’s speech pattern.”
“You stay out here,” I told the animals, lifting God off my shoulder and carefully placing him on DeeDee’s back so that he could hold on to her collar.
“You can’t go in there, sugar,” Piss pleaded. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I have to see what he’s up to. You three stay out here.”
“Go Maggie don’t,” the dog whined, heaving herself into a begging position.
The lizard scrambled to hang on to her collar, warning, “You’re taking this private private eye thing too seriously. Armani wouldn’t want you to die over it.”
“I’m not going to die. I’ll be careful.”
“Ha!” the lizard scoffed.
I didn’t have the time to argue with them, so I started running toward the door.
Piss was faster.
A streak of fur flew past me, bounding inside.
The closer I got, the more I doubted my plan. The smoke choked me. My face prickled from the heat of the flames. All I could really see was the giant wall of fire.
Piss yelled a warning, “Sugar, I think—”
I couldn’t hear the rest over the roaring and crackling of the flames.
I hesitated in the doorway, watching the fire devour everything in its path.
“Piss,” I called. “Come out!”
“Run, sugar! Run!” she yowled above the destruction.
“Piss!” I screamed back, not wanting to leave her in the inferno.
Then the decision was taken out of my hands. I was grabbed from behind and forcibly dragged away.
“Piss, please!” I screamed.
The explosion knocked me off my feet and stole my breath. The fireball that rose in the sky was blinding.
“Move, move, move!” God screamed, jolting me out of my shocked state.
Someone tugged at my shirt as I scrambled away from the heat. Looking back, I saw that it was DeeDee who’d pulled me from the path of the explosion.
I huddled on the street corner as the fire roared and sirens filled the air. The dog pressed herself against my leg. I wasn’t sure if she was looking for reassurance or if she was trying to hold me up. Either way, I was grateful for her steadying presence.
Fire trucks and police cars arrived on the scene, a crowd of neighbors and onlookers formed across the street.
God scrambled up my arm and planted himself by my ear. “You have to focus, Maggie. Be careful what you tell the cops.”
"Gone Piss?" DeeDee whined softly.
I didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that began to run down my face. The ache in my chest at the idea that I’d lost my beloved cat made it hard to breathe. I bent over at the waist, resting my hands on my knees, trying not to fall over.
“It’s my fault,” I choked out. “If I’d come better prepared… If I’d just left her at home… If I hadn’t tried to go into the house…”
Firefighters began battling the blaze. A uniformed cop waved for me to back up. I did so grudgingly, staring at the fire, silently willing Piss to emerge.
DeeDee sprawled out on the ground and covered her eyes with her paws.
“We had our differences, but I will honor her sacrifice by acknowledging she died a valiant death,” God declared solemnly.
“She died a pointless death,” I muttered, fighting the urge to flick the little fella off my shoulder. Part of me knew he was trying to offer comfort, but in that moment I didn’t want to listen to him spouting platitudes.
“Who died?” Piss coughed weakly.
“Piss!” The Doberman leapt to her feet and pounced on the poor cat. “Alive are you.”
“Observant are you,” God mocked.
“You’re crushing me,” Piss gasped, swatting at the dog’s nose.
Shoving the dog out of the way, I scooped up my favorite feline and held her against my chest. “You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive.”
“That damn mouse’s speech pattern is contagious,” the lizard complained.
I cried harder, though now they were tears of joy. “You’re alive.”
“Easy, sugar,” the cat purred, rubbing the top of her head against my chin. “I’m a cat. Nine lives and all.”
“I thought you’d used them all up,” I hiccupped hysterically.
“Are you hurt?” a voice called.
I turned in its direction, still clutching the cat tightly.
Detective Brian Griswald strode toward me, concern and anger jockeying for position on his face. “Are you hurt, Miss Lee?”
I shook my head.
“Choose your words carefully with him,” God whispered into my ear before diving into my bra.
Brian frowned at me, then at Piss, then at DeeDee. “I assume your menagerie survived whatever this was.”
I nodded, slowly bending over to put Piss down on the ground.
“I told you to be careful,” the detective berated.
I shrugged helplessly.
“Let me guess.” Brian looked from me to the firefighters battling
the blaze. “You came to pick something up for Armani.”
Not wanting to lie to him, but knowing it wasn’t wise to tell the truth, I remained silent.
“Was there anyone else in there?”
“Maybe?” The reply came out as a squeaky question.
“He got out the other door, sugar,” Piss purred.
“But I think he got out the other door,” I parroted.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Blondie.”
“The singer?” He peered at me closely, trying to determine if I’d suffered some kind of head injury.
“The same guy who broke in the last time.”
“What?” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a hard look. “No epic takedown this time?”
I shook my head.
“And I’m guessing that when the arson inspector takes a look around, this will have been deliberately set?” He waved at the building, which, despite the firefighters’ efforts, was being consumed.
I shrugged. I was a lot of things, but arson wasn’t one of my areas of faux-expertise.
Brian spiked his hand through his hair, signaling his frustration. “What the hell has Armani gotten herself into?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “She doesn’t, either.”
“Well, somebody better figure it out before somebody ends up dead.”
Chapter Twelve
I thought Armani was going
to kill me.
She didn’t take the news that her home had been blown to smithereens and burnt to a crisp well.
Usually, people are in shock when that kind of thing happens and they go into a bit of a denial phase. (At least, that’s what happened to me when my apartment had suffered the same fate not that long ago.) But not Armani.
She got mad.
Furious, really. So angry that she picked up the nearest object and threw it at me.
Unfortunately, the object was a kitchen knife since I’d interrupted her sawing a chunk of cheddar cheese in the B&B’s kitchen.
One second, I was gently revealing that her home had gone up in smoke and the next, I was ducking as the sharp kitchen tool flew toward me.
“Hey!” I protested, as the knife bounced off the wall and clattered on the floor beside me.
“You burned down my house!” Armani screamed.
“I did not.” I kicked the knife away to the other end of the room so that she wouldn’t get any ideas about trying that again.
“You didn’t stop it from burning down.”
“I tried.” For a split second, I remembered being dragged backward out of the house, but then she threw the block of cheese at me and I had to duck again. “Calm down.”
“Calm down?” she shrieked.
I winced. “Okay. Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words.”
She reached for a coffee cup to use as her next airborne weapon.
I held out a hand to stop her. “St—”
“Is everything okay?” Marlene ran in, startling both Armani and me.
Instinctively, Armani threw the mug at her.
Unlike me, a highly trained assassin with highly adaptive reflexes, or at least someone with a highly honed survival instinct, Marlene didn’t duck.
The mug hit her squarely in the sternum, then crashed to the floor where it shattered into dozens of pieces.
“Ow!” Marlene moaned.
“Don’t move,” I warned, since her feet were bare.
“Oh God,” Armani groaned.
The lizard, chilling in my bra, muttered, “What does she expect from me?”
“What the hell?” Marlene swayed and rubbed her chest, clearly stunned.
“I’m sorry,” Armani groaned.