by Harper Lin
“Yes,” Mr. Tumble replied. “The superintendent has hired me on full time.”
“That’s great!” she and her friends squealed. “Got to go, Mr. Tumble. Merry Christmas!” And half a dozen more Merry Christmases were shouted as the crowd dispersed.
After Mr. Tumble waved good-bye, he turned around and instantly saw me. I smiled warily and nodded since my arms were full of kitty.
“Well, this is a nice surprise.” He strolled up to me as if he suspected I might have been following him.
“Hi, Mr. Tumble.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Treacle’s claws dug into my coat. “Something is up.”
“Please, call me Clyde. Mr. Tumble is my father.”
“Sure.” I squeezed Treacle to try and calm him down. “I’ve heard that one before.” I looked down at my cat and saw his eyes were wide and alert. He’d caught a whiff of something nearby.
“Yeah, it’s not a great joke.”
“Was that a joke?” The words just fell out of my mouth, but Clyde didn’t seem at all insulted. It wasn’t that I was trying to insult him. On the contrary. My ability to make small talk was being seriously handicapped by my introversion and my cat pushing his body further and further into my chest.
“Ha. Well, I wouldn’t dream of quitting my day job,” he replied, never taking his eyes from mine. “I’m a teacher. Those were some of my students.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the mob of boys and girls who had just left. “I was just a substitute, but I’ve been hired on full time. Just in the nick of time, too. A Christmas miracle of sorts.”
“What school will you be teaching at?” I asked while trying to shift Treacle. He was having none of that. All four sets of claws were attached to my coat.
“Something is wrong! I need to leave! We need to get out of here!”
“Bibich High School,” he answered enthusiastically as he reached to pet Treacle, who let out a deep and threatening growl from the pit of his gut. “She can’t hear you, but I can. Run, kitty!”
Before I knew what was happening, Treacle leaped from my arms, down onto the sidewalk, and darted madly in between the legs of the other pedestrians. I looked around but didn’t see Treacle, nor did I know where that menacing voice had come from.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into my cat,” I said. “I had him in the reindeer contest. He’s probably just tired and cranky from being on display.” I took a few nervous steps in the direction my cat had shot off in. “Did you hear something? Like someone yelling?”
Clyde shrugged and shook his head. “Would you like me to help you find him?” Clyde stepped dangerously close to me, and for a moment, I thought he was going to try and kiss me. The worst part was I was afraid I might have just let him.
“Oh, no,” I insisted and casually rocked back on my heel to put a little distance between us. “He’ll find his way home. So you’re at Bibich. Is that why you were at the football game?”
“I didn’t think you noticed me.”
I blushed like an idiot.
“So, Cath Greenstone. When are you going to let me take you out?” He smiled, and I noticed his teeth were perfectly even. He really was easy on the eyes.
“I told you before that I have a boyfriend.”
“Well, that’s fine, but it isn’t what I asked.” He shifted from one foot to the other, and as he looked at me, a couple of strands of his hair curled over his forehead.
“I wanted to know when you were going to let me take you out. That has nothing to do with your boyfriend.” He blinked innocently.
I was sure the temperature in the air was going up, because suddenly I was getting hot beneath my peacoat.
“I have to go.” I smiled. “I’m due back at work. It was nice to see you again, Clyde.”
“Don’t think I’m giving up, Cath Greenstone.” He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I don’t mind a game of cat and mouse.”
The fever spread by that kiss on my hand was deadly. I don’t know if the guy practiced on melons or something, but he certainly had a way with women. The worst part was that a little bit of me, maybe just the first knuckle of my baby toe, was enjoying the attention and wanting to ponder the what-if scenarios. The rest of me wanted to focus on Tom. But you’d be surprised at how influential the pinky toe can be.
“I’ll be seeing you.” He leaned over. Once again, I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to whistle “Jingle Bells” as he strolled away, turning to look at me again and smiling deviously.
A strange feeling settled into my stomach. I was attracted to Clyde Tumble, no doubt. But I couldn’t stop thinking he had a sort of sleazy, even a greasy quality to him like a thin layer of sweat. But it wasn’t sweat. He smelled really good, and his skin was perfectly smooth and clear. His clothes were neat and in traditional dude styles. But I wondered if he took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves that he wouldn’t have amateur prison tattoos of spiderwebs on his elbows and the names of his three illegitimate children written in some weird calligraphy on his forearms.
“It’s just nerves, Cath,” I muttered as I turned to continue toward the café. “How often do you get a guy like that flirting with you? Or any guy, for that matter.”
I knew that I didn’t usually arrange my face in the most welcoming expression, not because I was angry. I was just usually thinking deep thoughts. Okay, maybe not deep thoughts about world peace, but they were my thoughts and serious enough to have me focused as I walk down the sidewalk. No one would look at me and think, Now there is a girl who looks chatty. I think I’ll go have a pleasant conversation with her.
When I was back at the Brew-Ha-Ha, Treacle was not.
“It’s not terribly cold out there,” my aunt said to ease my worry. “He has a fur coat and knows how to keep warm until he’s ready to come home.”
“It was bizarre.” I tied an apron around my waist and stepped behind the counter to wash the huge mountain of dishes from the lunchtime rush. “Treacle was fine. A total gentleman through the whole reindeer contest, and he let lots of people pet him and stroke his head. Then we’re walking, and suddenly he says we have to get out of there. Before I could say a word, he jumped out of my arms and shot off like a bullet. I thought he’d meet me back here, but there’s no sign of him.”
Just then, Bea walked in the shop.
“The more I think about it, the more I think that contest was rigged.” Bea pouted while pulling off her coat and scarf. She looked from me to her mom and back. “Did you tell her about the dog that won?”
“Not yet.” I leaned on the counter. “I ran into Clyde Tumble on the way here. My cat took off unexpectedly, too. He wasn’t at your house, was he?”
“No, honey.” Bea batted her eyes. “But what did Mr. Tumble have to say?”
I rolled my shoulders and blushed while I smirked at her.
“He still wants to take me to dinner. But I’m not interested.”
“Are you sure?” Aunt Astrid straightened the papers and snapped a rubber band around the bulky stack.
“Yeah. There’s something about him. I know he’s handsome, but I don’t think going out with him would be a good idea.”
“Well, that’s up to you. You know best when it comes your love life.” Aunt Astrid smiled. It was annoying because she had that same devious smile on her face that Clyde seemed to have. It was as if she didn’t believe I didn’t want to go out with him any more than he did.
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I do.”
Radio Station
After closing the café just as the sky went from purple to black, I hurried to my house to find my cat. The temperature had dropped, and I was worried about him waiting outside for me for too long. But when I got there, Treacle was nowhere to be found.
I banged on Bea’s door. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about him, but he bolted so suddenly that afternoon. Something had really scared him, and that wasn’t like Treacle.
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br /> “No. I haven’t seen him,” she said, pulling on a thick, fuzzy wool sweater.
“Peanut Butter. Did you see Treacle at all today?”
“No. Is he all right?”
“I don’t know.” I wrung my hands. “I’m going to go check with your mom. Maybe Marshmallow’s seen him.”
“I’m going with you.” Bea grabbed her keys and then scooped Peanut Butter into one arm. She slipped the other through mine. We hurried to my aunt’s home. We let ourselves in with Bea’s key.
“Treacle didn’t come home. Do you know…” Before I could say another word, I saw the black bundle on a pillow in front of the fireplace.
“I’m here,” he loudly meowed.
“Where in the world did you run off to? I’ve been worried sick.” I walked over and scooped up the animal. “You just jumped out of my arms and ran away. What was that all about, Treacle?”
“Didn’t you hear him?” he asked.
“Hear who?” I asked.
Aunt Astrid and Bea talked between themselves as I gave Treacle my utmost attention.
“The man you were talking with. Didn’t you hear him threaten me?”
“I heard something garbled. I thought it was just some residual paranormal gunk from something that happened at another time.” I stroked his head.
“What’s wrong?” My aunt could tell by the way I was looking at Treacle that we were discussing something important.
“When I was bringing Treacle back to the café, we ran into Clyde. I thought I heard something in my head. Another voice, but you know, I’ve learned over the years that sometimes that happens.” I shrugged as I looked at my aunt and cousin. “Sometimes my thoughts get loud or explode into view like a popping balloon. Sometimes I’ll pick up the internal ramblings of a dog barking at me while I’m crossing the sidewalk. We were around a lot of pets today, and I guess when Treacle and I were walking alone, I didn’t realize it should have been quieter. I’m so sorry.”
“But you did hear him?” Treacle put his paw on my chest.
“Yes. ‘She can’t hear you, but I can.’ That’s what he said, right?” My whole body began to shake. “The voice I heard was choppy and sort of like a radio station that didn’t come in clearly. Maybe that’s why I didn’t link it to Clyde at first.”
The whole room was quiet as Bea and Aunt Astrid looked at Treacle and me.
“I’m not following. How come you can hear Clyde’s thoughts?” Bea asked.
I looked down at Treacle.
“Please don’t tell me I’ve been gifted with hearing human thoughts, now, too,” I whined. “The last thing I want to know is what humans are thinking, especially if it concerns me.”
“I don’t think that is it,” Treacle assured me. “I think Clyde is the other cat.”
“The other cat?” I barked out loud. “Who is the first cat?”
“That would be Mr. Wayne.” Aunt Astrid pointed to me as if I’d just won something. “He still had issues with the children at the school. Let’s not forget the portal we found in his house. That is a pretty good indicator that even if he isn’t the first Diabolus Formarum Catus, which I’m sure he was, he was definitely in cahoots with them.”
“So why does Clyde want to hurt my cat?” I asked, suddenly feeling angry that the big bully scared Treacle but tried to sweet-talk me.
“Remember, Cath.” My aunt looked at me with eyes that burned with an intense internal fire. “We are Greenstones. The bloodline that destroyed the great-great-great grand-pappy of this creature. It knows what we are and who we are and that we are stronger with our Familiars than with each other at times. Do away with the gatekeeper, and you have full access to the kingdom.”
“I don’t like being compared to a castle being stormed,” I replied, wrinkling my nose. “That comment you made has all kinds of double meanings, and I just feel dirty repeating it.”
“Who said anything about storming a castle?” my aunt sputtered. “I’m saying the Diabolus Formarum Catus will divide and conquer any way it can. It came after me when I was alone. It blustered after you when you were walking by yourself and may have accomplished its goal had Treacle not been there, too.”
“What about me?” Bea asked. “Do I have cooties or something?”
“Yes,” I answered, shaking my head sadly.
“No. But you’ve been either with me, with Cath, with both of us, or in your home behind locked doors,” Aunt Astrid observed. She finally put the food out, but suddenly I wasn’t all that hungry. Okay, I was a little hungry. But I chewed slowly and barely tasted the food.
“That would explain why I could hear him. But he doesn’t know that I can. If his true form is a cat and he maneuvers around as a human, I can pick up his thoughts,” I said. “But these cats, you guys still say there are two of them, right?” I looked at Treacle, Marshmallow, and Peanut Butter. They all agreed that yes, there were definitely two of them that they had either heard about or seen. “These cats are mean, right? They aren’t just using this dimension to get from one place to another. They are up to something.”
“Mr. Wayne isn’t up to too much anymore.” Bea shrugged as she pulled a container of hummus from the fridge. “Being he’s dead and all.”
Before I could comment on anything, the front door opened, and a gust of cold wind shot in behind it.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Jake walked into the kitchen and up to Bea to give her a kiss on the cheek then gave one to Aunt Astrid as well. I high-fived him then turned to Blake, who was a few steps behind him. He looked cold and rather annoyed.
“Are you all right?” I asked Blake. “You look more perturbed than usual.” I know it wasn’t a very Christmassy salutation, but we were dealing with Blake Samberg here. Mister I Don’t Believe in Witches but I’ll Date Darla Castellan.
“It’s the Gale Wayne situation,” Blake muttered then looked me in the eyes. “We found something so strange that I don’t even know what to think. Tell me what you think about this.”
Burnam
As Bea put on a pot of coffee and Aunt Astrid pulled out some more food, I took a seat and listened to the story of what Blake and Jake had found.
After Mr. Wayne was taken to the police station for questioning, the uniformed police officers still at his home conducted a search. Each room was meticulously scoured and searched for any trace evidence that Bruce Lyle or Donna Flint had been there. Starting with the bedroom, they searched every drawer, underneath the bed, and in the closets. The bathroom, the office, the living room, and the garage were gone over with a magnifying glass and a fine-tooth comb.
“It wasn’t until they found what was under the sink that this whole situation went sideways.” Blake looked at Jake, who nodded in agreement.
“My gosh.” Bea wrinkled her nose. “What did they find?”
“Anything put underneath a sink can’t be good,” I added.
“It was just a small bag,” Blake replied. “Like the kind big enough for a sandwich. But it had a barrette in it. There was hair still attached, and blood.”
“A trophy,” I exclaimed. “That’s what that is. He kept a trophy. Was that Donna Flint’s barrette?”
“No.” Blake shook his head and squinted as he looked at Jake.
“After we submitted it for testing and asked the Flints if the barrette was Donna’s, we found out that not only was it not Donna’s, but it was actually from a girl who disappeared over three years ago,” Jake said. “An unsolved cold case but not in Wonder Falls. This victim lived in Burnam.”
“Burnam is almost three hours away.” Bea poured two cups of coffee then looked at me, raising the pot. I shook my head no. The last thing I needed at the moment was an additional stimulant. “And it isn’t the safest town to live in.”
“No. It isn’t,” Jake said. “High crime. High poverty. Also, a high number of runaways. Our victim with the barrette ran away from home at around this time of year, and her body was found in the same shape as Bruce and Donna�
�s. We think Mr. Wayne was much more careful in his murdering at first. As he got bolder, he came closer to home.”
“But you said you didn’t find any evidence of Bruce or Donna at his home,” Aunt Astrid said as she stared into the darkness outside the window. “Bruce was found near the storage facility, but Donna was killed somewhere else before ultimately landing in his storage facility. I know it’s a stretch, but could it be a setup?”
“I suppose,” Jake said.
“I’m glad you said that, Astrid.” Blake slapped the counter. “Something has me thinking the exact same thing.”
“I don’t see how it can be possible.” Jake shook his head then took a sip of his coffee. “Who would have chosen Mr. Gale Wayne, high school teacher from Wonder Falls, who was a bachelor and had no family, no social life to speak of, and no enemies list that anyone could come up with?”
“I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out,” Blake said. “I’m saying something is rubbing me the wrong way about this. I’m thinking there are too many loose ends that, if threaded back together, will project a very different picture.”
“It’s just too hard to face.” Jake stood stock-still. “We have to accept the fact that we had a killer living not just among us, but teaching our children every day for years before he was finally brought into the light.”
Bea put her hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“To be honest, I’m glad he did the dirty work for us,” he continued. “He took his reasons and his methods to the grave with him. No one will know why or how, and we’re all better off for it.”
The room got awfully quiet, and I looked at Bea, who shook her head before quietly suggesting Jake go upstairs to take a hot shower and wash off the day’s residue.
“Blake, you are welcome to stay overnight. The guest room could always use a little company,” Bea suggested.
“No. Thanks, Bea.” He looked frustrated all over again. “There will be a briefing early tomorrow morning, and the weather station determined we’ll get a light sprinkling of snow. It would be best if my old jalopy rests inside the garage tonight. Most cars experience trouble when the temperature dips below thirty degrees. The older the model, the more trouble you can expect.”