Shocked, Dulcie and Kit stared at each other. Max never talked to Charlie like that. The Harpers had been married not quite a year, they were still newlyweds, he loved his redheaded bride more than life itself. Loved every freckle, loved her unruly carroty hair, loved her sense of humor and her quick temper. The tall, lean police chief loved Charlie Harper in a way that made both cats feel warm and safe. Now, did Max feel guilty that Charlie’s aunt Wilma had disappeared, on his watch? Was that what made him cross? That didn’t make any sense; it wasn’t his fault.
But a lot about life didn’t make sense, a lot about humans didn’t make sense. They watched him step out of his unit and head up the brick steps to the wide porch; as they trotted across an oak branch to Kit’s little cat door in the dining room window, and pushed through into the house, they heard the door chimes and watched Lucinda hurry to answer.
Opening the door, the tall old lady laughed with pleasure. “Max! This is a nice surprise. Come in.” Then she saw his expression and drew in her breath. “What? What’s happened?”
18
B eyond the Greenlaws’ open windows, an owl hooted; and a pleasant breeze wandered through the big living room of the hillside house, cooling the hot night as the tall, lean, eightysomething newlyweds welcomed Max Harper; they stood waiting quietly for whatever bad news Max had brought them. Across the room, on the upholstered bench before the big front windows, Dulcie and Kit listened, trying to look as if they’d been there a long time, quietly napping. This was going to be terrible, Kit thought. It was scary enough that Wilma had disappeared; she didn’t want Lucinda to become sick with worry over her good friend.
Kit worried about Pedric, too; but Pedric Greenlaw was tougher. Equally thin and frail looking, but wiry and hardy, Pedric Greenlaw’s dry humor had seen him through all kinds of crises in his younger days, and through some questionable scrapes with the law, too. His checkered past had left him with a quick turn of mind, fast to act and shocked by very little.
Now, though Lucinda turned pale as Harper laid out the details of Wilma’s disappearance, Pedric asked clear, precise questions: Had Wilma left San Francisco? Had she checked out of her hotel? At what time? Which stores did she favor? Did she usually pay with her credit card, which could be traced? Had the sheriff been notified? Max hid the little twitch at the side of his mouth and patiently answered Pedric’s questions; Pedric should know he had done these things, but that was how Pedric Greenlaw approached a problem.
The cats smiled, themselves, as the captain explained that everything in Wilma’s house had been fingerprinted and photographed, all possible evidence duly bagged, and that the house would be sealed. Ordinarily, much more time must pass in a missing person report before the police undertook this thorough an investigation, but there had been a witness-and in Wilma’s case, ordinary procedures went out the window.
“Detective Davis is on her way to Gilroy,” Max said. “And so is Clyde. I couldn’t stop him; I just hope he stays out of Davis’s way.”
Lucinda glanced across at Dulcie and Kit, clearly wanting to know if Joe Grey was with Clyde. Kit twitched her ears in a little private yes that seemed to brighten Lucinda’s mood. The Greenlaws had great faith in Joe Grey. No cop could track scent, as Joe would do.
“What?” Max said, watching her. “Why the smile?”
“I…That will give Clyde something to do,” Lucinda said, “to keep him from worrying so much.”
Max nodded. “Charlie would want to head up there, too. If I could reach her. I guess she and Ryan are riding.”
“We saw on the news,” Pedric said, “that Cage Jones escaped this morning. Pretty shoddy way to run a jail. And then the paper said Wilma’s partner was shot. We’ve been worried about Wilma. Lucinda called the house and her cell-”
“Wilma’s quick,” Max said, “and careful.” But his face had gone closed with the extent of his concern.
Lucinda said, “Do the seniors know any of this?” The four senior ladies, who had bought a home together, were close friends of both the Greenlaws and Wilma.
Max nodded. “Mavity came into the station to ask advice about evicting her brother. Greeley’s become a real headache, and she wants him out of there. She told Mabel that she’d been trying to call Wilma, she said if they heard from her, they’d call the station. Apparently Mavity and her housemates hadn’t seen the paper or had the news on, they didn’t know about Jones’s escape, and Mabel didn’t tell her.”
Lucinda nodded, then shook her head. “Poor Mavity. Greeley camping in their nice house, letting those women feed him-poor all of them.” She spoke with sympathy, but with a laugh, too. “I think I’d spice up Greeley’s supper with a touch of rat poison.”
“Every time Greeley shows up,” Pedric said, “he brings trouble. I hope Mavity booted him out for once and all.”
“Mavity got down to the station,” Max said, “nearly lost her nerve, but finally filed a complaint.”
Lucinda shook her head. “This news about Wilma will be hard for those ladies, they’re all close to her.”
“Maybe Wilma’s disappearance,” Pedric said, “as terrifying as it is, will load Mavity up with enough worry that she’ll stop tolerating that old crook. Mavity will stand for just so much frustration before she pitches a fit.”
Max rose, and so did Lucinda. He put his arm around her. “All agencies are alerted and looking for Wilma. An APB out for Jones. Sheriff’s men all over Gilroy. Wilma isn’t…” He paused when his cell phone rang. He answered, then put the caller on hold, looking up at them. “Wilma was a federal officer, Lucinda. She knows how to handle herself.”
Lucinda and Pedric walked Harper out, watched him move quickly down the steps, pausing on the stone walk to speak with the waiting caller-and the cats slipped out behind them. They were crouched to race for Harper’s patrol car, intent on hiding in the back and hitching a ride wherever he was headed, when Lucinda snatched them up by the napes of their necks-an indignity usually reserved only for kittens.
“It’s hot!” she whispered crossly, turning her back to Harper, and ignoring the cats’ anger. “Think about it! You get locked in that car, you’ll suffocate.”
“We never-” Kit began.
“Yes you did!” Lucinda looked hard at the tortoiseshell. “You’ve done it before, both of you! Slipped into cars, and at great danger!” She held them close against her. Neither Dulcie nor Kit would insult Lucinda by trying to get away-at least, not if they could argue their way out of a scolding.
“We just meant to listen to his call…,” Kit lied, whispering into Lucinda’s ear. She looked beseechingly at her thin, wrinkled friend. “We just wanted to listen…”
Dulcie had the good sense to keep her mouth shut.
Frowning, Lucinda put them down again, giving them another stern look; she stood and watched as they slipped into the bushes behind Max.
“…hardly dark,” he was saying, “and the other two happened around midnight. What’s the coroner say? Does Bern see similarities? Dallas is at Wilma’s place. Get him over there.”
The cats looked at each other. What was this? Another murder, a third one?
“No witnesses, no one heard anything? Who did you send?” Then, “Tell her to print everything! Every damn surface! Light switches, dirty dishes, soap dish, whatever! Everything in the kitchen where you found her-salt shaker, table legs, trash can, every damn surface she can find! Stuff in the trash, jars and cartons in the refrigerator, stay there and print if it takes her a week. I don’t like this-this isn’t going to continue, not on our watch! Keep someone with the husband; I’m on my way.”
Crouched in the bushes, the cats burned with questions. Who was the victim? Where? As Harper punched in a number, Kit took a sneaking step toward his squad car, but Dulcie nudged her, looking up guiltily at Lucinda. “You promised her, Kit,” Dulcie whispered, her green eyes fixed hard on Kit. “You came flying home to comfort Lucinda and Pedric, not to worry them-you go off on some wild hair now, you’ll have them pacing all night!”