But then, what did she know? Maybe catswereas smart as dogs.
The kit, full of Charlie’s lovely mushroom omelet and warm milk, prowled the empty house ahead of Lucinda and Pedric, far too impatient to give the old couple a chance to show her around. Leaping to every sill to look out, nosing into every corner lashing her tail with interest, leaping atop every bookshelf catching cobwebs in her whiskers, she decided she liked this house. Liked it quite a lot.
The two-story dwelling was on such a steep hill that, even after the Greenlaws had made their offer and given the agent a check, the conscientious agent was uncertain about the old couple living on such a slope. But to Lucinda and Pedric, the house was perfect.
The high rafters of the great room filled Kit with delight as she leaped from one to the next. But where was the surprise? She could not ask in front of the real estate agent. Even if Mrs. Thurwell was a friend, she didn’t know Kit’s secret. The old couple had chosen her because she was Dillon’s mother, and had decided to work with her exclusively because she was a quiet, sensible agent who didn’t push. Who had, during all their weeks of searching, left them alone to prowl each house as they pleased, without comment. Unless of course, they asked a question. Neither one of the Greenlaws could abide a pushy Realtor, and neither could Kit.
Now, even though she must remain mute, she raced about eagerly looking, her tail lashing, drawing Luanda’s frown because she was not behaving like a normal cat, making Mrs. Thurwell glance at her, puzzled.
“She’s always been like that,” Lucinda said. “As hyper as a terrier. The vet says she has a thyroid problem. Makes her wild. We worry about her, we keep hoping she’ll settle down. She’s such a dear, when she’s quiet. But anything new sets her off-new people, new places�”
Lucinda laughed, as guileless as a cat herself. “I guess everyone thinks their pet is special. Do you have figures on the utility costs?”
Managing to divert Mrs. Thurwell, going over the utility figures and then leading the slim brunette into the kitchen to discuss the dishwasher, Lucinda freed the kit-and freed Pedric to lead Kit to a dining room window and open the latched shutters.
Leaping up to the sill of the open window, Kit looked and looked, then she turned to look at Pedric. The thin old man held his finger to his lips. Kit stared at him, then sailed out the window into the oak tree-into a realm that took her breath. Into a little house right among the tall branches. This was the surprise! A little house, hugged within the branches of the oak.
Scorching from the branch in through a small, open door, Kit was beyond speech. Lucinda and Pedric had never hinted that there was a tree house! She looked back to the window, to Pedric. Her tall, wrinkled friend grinned, his eyes sparkling. “It’s yours,” he whispered, mouthing the words. “Yours, Kit.”
Oh, the wonder!
Joe Grey had a tower on his roof butshehad a tree house! A tree house sturdily made of thick cedar boards, a beautiful tree house with its own little deck and door and windows. She imagined beautiful India cushions inside, a tumble of pillows in which to snuggle; it was a retreat far cozier and more elegant even than Joe Grey’s wonderful tower.
At the moment, there was a lovely pile of dry oak leaves that had blown into the corner. Flopping among them she rolled and wriggled, lay upside down purring, looking up at her own raftered ceiling. She prowled her own deck, sniffing the salty sea wind and looking away to the hills where scattered cottages rose, half hidden among pines and oaks. She looked down to the south, to Wilma’s house, and could see Wilma’s roof! When she looked to the center of the village, she could pick out Joe Grey’s tower. She looked through the branches down into the window of the dining room where Pedric stood looking up at her, his eyes bright, his wrinkles curved with pleasure. “Yours,” he mouthed again. He turned away as Mrs. Thurwell joined him.
21 [��������: pic_22.jpg]
In her cozy living room, Wilma paused from serving drinks, set her tray on the desk, and placed three saucers of milk on the blotter. Beyond the open shutters sunset stained the sky, as bright red as the rooftops in the painting hanging above the fireplace behind her. A reflection of sunset played faintly across her long, silver hair. As she passed drinks to Lucinda and Pedric, the three cats set to lapping warm milk, their own version of before-dinner cocktails.
Charlie had brought Wilma home at midmorning and ordered her to rest. Wilma, after a half-hour nap, had grown so restless she began to call her friends to tell them she was home and on the mend, ready to go back to work. Now, this evening, an impromptu dinner to celebrate her homecoming, as if she’d been gone for months. The Greenlaws had brought a salad, and Clyde was picking up takeout on his way to get Ryan. Charlie had promised a dessert.
Joe Grey had left the station before Harper did, galloping across the rooftops burning with information on the Rivas brothers, with statistics from arrest sheets and reports that had just come in by fax. He was tense with news to share; but with Kit so excited, he hadn’t been able to get in a word.
“It’s a real tree house, it was a child’s tree house and it’s so beautiful all hidden in the tree and it’s mine! Wait until you see!” She was lapping milk and talking so fast that she spluttered most of the milk across the blotter and on Dulcie’s ears. Joe waited patiently. With Kit’s nonstop narration, Dulcie and Joe and Wilma soon knew more about the Greenlaws’ new house than the real estate agent who had sold it.
“There will be cushions,” Lucinda said. “And a water bowl on the windowsill that Kit can easily reach. We thought maybe Lori or Dillon would take the pillows up, with a sturdy ladder. That is,” she said, “if they understand that the tree house belongs to Kit.”
Kit purred with contentment. Life was indeed wonderful. But beside her Joe Grey fidgeted and laid his ears back until at last she paid attention and shut up and let him talk before he exploded like a wildcat.
“Faxes are coming in, on the Rivas brothers,” Joe said, twitching an ear. “Twenty-seven burglaries and street robberies in two years, and those are just the arrests. Who knows how many when they weren’t caught? Luis has a rap sheet long enough to paper this room, and so did Hernando.
“Most of the time, Luis and Hernando worked together, apparently kept Dufio out of the way.” Joe licked his paw. “Poor Dufio. By the time Dallas finished reading off the details of his arrests, half the department was standing around the fax machine, grinning. I had to crawl under Mabel’s counter to keep from breaking up laughing.
“Dufio’s full name’s Delfino. I guess he’s been clumsy like this all his life. Last year he robbed an Arby’s in Arcadia, two o’clock in the afternoon, got out with the money okay. But for the second time, he locked his keys in the car. Can’t the poor guy learn? When he couldn’t get in, he dropped the paper bag full of money and took off running.
“Two blocks from Arby’s, three patrol cars were on him, bundled him off to jail. But, as they recovered the money, the judge went easy on him. He did seven months, got out, his brothers wouldn’t have anything to do with him. On his own again, he broke the padlock on a storage locker in Anaheim, backed his truck up to it, and somehow in the process he set off the alarm. Chain-link gate swung closed, and he was trapped.”
Lucinda and Pedric looked a bit sorry for Dufio, but Wilma was laughing. Whatever embarrassment Dufio Rivas had suffered at his own mistakes, the entertainment he afforded those in law enforcement was deeply satisfying.
“When he got out of L.A. County jail,” Joe said, “he pulled a holdup on a 7-Eleven. He had his keys in his pocket this time. But he flashed a holdup note at the guy. He got away all right, for six blocks, then a customer ID’d his car. A patrol car stopped him, asked for identification and registration.” Joe purred, twitching a whisker. “I love when humans do this stuff. He opened the glove compartment, handed them all the papers in it, including the holdup note.”