Kate rose, looking around her into the tangled bushes. The cats watched her with interest. Usually she was so calm, so in control. Now she moved with a lithe, almost animal wariness, nervous and watchful.
"Is there something about this place?" Dulcie said. "About the Pamillon mansion-some strangeness, the way the kit imagines?"
"I don't know, Dulcie. I don't feel anything strange. You and the kit-"
A small voice behind them said, "There is something. Something shivery."
The cats turned to look at the kit where she sat atop a vine-covered dresser, her forepaws neatly together, her long fluffy tail wrapped around herself, her round yellow eyes intense. "Something elder, here in this place."
But Joe and Dulcie's attention was on the dresser top. They leaped up to see better.
Beside the kit's paw, half hidden among the green leaves, lay a piece of shiny metal. Joe pushed away the leaves.
"What is this, Kit? Where did you get this?"
A silver hair clip gleamed among the leaves, its turquoise settings blue as a summer sky. Joe sniffed at it and fixed his gaze on the kit. And Dulcie's green eyes widened. "Dillon's clip," Dulcie said softly. "The barrette that Wilma gave Dillon."
Joe pushed close to the kit. "Where did you find this?"
The kit looked across the jungly nursery to the pale stone fireplace that loomed against the afternoon sky.
"In the fireplace? Show me."
The kit leaped away among the vine-covered furniture and vanished behind the fireplace beneath a heap of fallen timbers beside the chimney. Joe was there in a flash, a gray streak pawing and pushing in where she had disappeared. Shouldering under the timbers, he pushed his head beneath the partly open lid of a long wooden box the size of a coffin-the lid would open only a few inches. The kit crouched within, on the rusted floor. The interior was metal lined; had perhaps, at one time, held firewood.
"Here," the kit said. "It was right in here." Even the inside of the box reeked of wet ashes. They could not smell Dillon. There was nothing inside but the kit. Joe backed out again, where Dulcie pressed close behind him.
"We have to get the barrette to Harper," she said softly. "Or tell him where it is. I suppose whatever prints were on it are smeared with paw marks and cat spit."
Joe Grey flattened his ears. "Harper mustn't have anything to do with finding this."
Her green eyes widened. "But-"
"Prosecution could say he planted it." He looked keenly at Dulcie. "The detectives need to find it here. The department detectives-or Garza."
"Then we'll have to phone the station."
"We're not phoning the station. An anonymous phone tip would make Harper look like dog doo."
"Well what, then?" Dulcie hissed.
"Someone uninvolved could find it," he said with speculation. "Find it and call the station." He looked down into the garden.
"Kate," she whispered.
"Kate," he said and leaped down the broken stairs toward the garden.
Joe didn't know he was being watched, just as Kate and Hanni were being watched.
From higher up the hill above the ruined mansion, the three cats had been observed for some time, with keen and unwavering attention-as had two human creatures.
The movements and noises of the humans puzzled and interested the young lion. The mouth noises of his small feline cousins puzzled him far more.
The cougar was uncertain about whether two-legged beasts should be considered food, but the three little felines were certainly edible. They were nice and fat, and were out in plain view waiting to be taken-except that these small cat creatures made noises like the two-legs, and he did not know what to make of that.
And as Joe Grey descended to the garden, to lure Kate away from Hanni and lead her to the hair clip, above them on the hill the cougar slipped closer, padding among dense cover and silently down the slope. Intensely curious, the lion stalked toward the patio, moving as smooth and silently as a drifting cloud-shadow, his big pads pressing without sound among the vines and stones, his broad head cocked, listening, his golden eyes seeking to separate possible lunch from possible threat-his teeth parted to taste cat scent and human scent, trying to sort out another strangeness, in a world filled with dangers from the unknown.
11
CHARLIE GETZ was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor of her one-room apartment when Kate arrived, an hour earlier than they'd planned. Charlie answered the door with the knees of her jeans sopping, her red hair in a mess, and a ketchup stain down her T-shirt. Opened the door to a gorgeously turned-out blond, sleek golden hair, clear green eyes, her creamy merino sweater immaculate and expensive. Charlie felt like she'd crawled out of a Dumpster. She'd meant to shower and change, make tea, put the bakery cookies on a plate, try to act civilized. She had never met Kate, only talked with her on the phone last night. If Clyde had told her what a stunner this woman was, she'd have spent the morning fretting over her clothes and trying to do something with her hair.
Kate held in her arms the relaxed and purring tortoiseshell kit. Joe Grey and Dulcie stepped out from behind her, Dulcie's tail waving, Joe's docked tail erect and cheerful, the two cats smiling up at her as they pushed past Kate's ankles into the room. But the expression on Kate's face made Charlie hurry her inside and hastily shut the door.
"What's wrong? There's nothing wrong with the kit?"
"No, she's fine. I'm sorry I'm so early. I'm Kate. Hanni and I were up at the Pamillon place, we hurried straight down to the police, and I…"
Charlie led Kate to the dinette table and pulled out a chair. Kate sat, still holding the unprotesting kit, cuddling her as if she needed the kit's warmth. Behind her, Joe and Dulcie leaped onto Charlie's daybed and began diligently to wash, their expressions smug and secretive. Charlie looked at them intently. "Start again," she told Kate, turning on the burner under the teakettle and sitting down opposite her.
"We were-we found something of-that might be Dillon's. I…" Kate looked deeply at Charlie. "I found it. I left it there, didn't touch it. I came right down to the police. A silver barrette. With turquoise. They-Officer Wendell has gone up to look. But I…" Kate stared absently at the teakettle. When she looked back at Charlie, her eyes were filled with fear and with a strange and powerful wonder.
"What?" Charlie said.
"We saw the lion," Kate whispered.
"The mountain lion? The cougar?"
"Yes. And it saw us. It came toward us. The kit went up my back like a bullet." Kate turned to show the bloody splotches down the back of her sweater. She didn't seem concerned about the wounds or the sweater. Tenderly she stroked the kit. And she began to laugh.
"She clung on my head and she…" Kate doubled over, cradling the kit, laughing until tears came.
When she looked up, she said, "You know about them."
Charlie was silent.
"It's all right," Dulcie said softly. "Kate knows-more then you'd guess."
Charlie looked at Kate with speculation. "Then what happened?" she said. "What did the lion do?"
"He came right down into the ruin," Kate said. "Came directly toward us-as if he was curious. He paused not twenty feet from us. We were terrified, we daren't move. He kept coming, watching and watching us. I thought he would attack-but he was so beautiful. I can't explain how I felt.