And Brady Chapman was at her side, their two heads bent together in what looked like an intense conversation. It also looked as if they were a lot more than friends.
19
Marcus picked me up in the morning and I set the cat cage on the backseat of his SUV before I got in.
“Do you think this is going to work?” I asked as I slid onto the passenger seat.
“I think if anyone can catch this cat, you can.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Maggie,” I said.
“You really do have a rapport with all of the cats,” he said as he backed out onto the road. It was cold but the sky was clear. It was going to be a nice day.
I patted the bag I was carrying. “I think that rapport might just be the fact that I smell like sardines a lot of the time.”
He shot me a quick look and smiled. “No, you don’t,” he said. And the look in his eyes made my heart beat faster.
As we drove out to Wisteria Hill, I told Marcus what I’d learned from Nic Sutton the night before.
“He’s right,” Marcus said. “The prosecutor was looking for Dayna Chapman. She’d stopped cooperating with them.”
“Do you think he’s right about the why?” I asked, putting the bag of cat dishes at my feet on the floor of the SUV. “Could someone from the shooter’s family have gotten to Dayna?”
As soon as the words were out, I realized that was probably a question he couldn’t answer.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You can’t answer that.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. It’s not exactly a secret. They don’t know why Dayna suddenly became so vague and evasive. If somebody from that kid’s family got in touch with her, no one seems to know who it would have been. The kid’s parents are dead. So are his grandparents. His girlfriend disappeared after he was arrested. All he has is a sister who seems to have pretty much washed her hands of him.”
I leaned my head back against the headrest. “So that’s probably just another dead end?”
“It looks that way.”
“Are you going to arrest Burtis?” I asked.
Marcus didn’t say anything.
“That you can’t tell me.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. You know how this works. I can’t.”
I did. I also knew that was closer to a yes than a no.
We fed the cats first. Once again Lucy came over to me and I told her all about my visit with Smokey.
Marcus put the empty water jugs and the dirty dishes back in his SUV. He got the cat cage and set it up in the same place under the big tree where we’d put the food the day before. I put two sardines on a little plate I’d brought with me and set it inside the cage at the back. Once Micah went inside and stepped on the pressure plate, the door would drop down and we’d have her without her being hurt. I knew she’d be frightened, but it was the safest way we had at the moment to catch her and I hated the thought of the little cat roaming around in the snow a lot more than I disliked the cage.
Marcus and I backed up all the way to the side steps of the house and waited. After a couple of minutes I thought I saw a bit of orange fur against the snow. I touched Marcus’s arm. “Over there. Is that her?”
He leaned sideways and looked. “I think so,” he said softly. We waited and in a few more moments we could see the little marmalade cat making her way through the snow.
She was so small and thin despite all the efforts Roma had made to make sure she was fed, and all I could think was Go in the cage, go in the cage.
We watched as she moved to the side of the wire crate first, whiskers twitching as she sniffed the sardines. She reached out and tried to poke a paw through one of the spaces, but the gap was too small. For a moment it looked as though the little cat was going to leave again. I felt Marcus’s reassuring hand on my shoulder.
Then Micah walked around to the front of the cage and craned her head forward to look inside. “Go, go,” I said just under my breath. I could see her whiskers twitching again. She could smell the sardines, but was that enough to entice her to go after them? It didn’t look as though it was going to be.
“Do you still have those kibble things in your pocket?” Marcus asked in a low voice.
I’d only given Owen part of the bag at tai chi. I fished it out of my pocket now and handed it to him. “What are you going to do?” I said.
“I just want to try something,” he said. “Is that okay?”
I nodded.
Marcus put the half-full bag of cat kibble in his pocket. He eased his way down the steps and moved to a spot about halfway to the cage. Then he bent down and put a few pieces of the dry cat food on the ground.
Micah watched him the entire time. I could tell from her body language that she might bolt at any moment.
Marcus didn’t move. Neither did I. After a minute or two that seemed to stretch out forever, the cat took a step forward, and then another. Her gaze stayed locked on Marcus, but she continued to get closer and closer to him.
Finally, she reached the little pile of food. She grabbed two pieces of kibble in her mouth and backed away several steps. She ate them, watching him all the time. When he did nothing, she came back for the rest of the food, eating quickly, her small furry body tensed, ready to run if she needed to.
I didn’t even see Marcus reach into the bag again. He slowly extended his hand and there were a few more bits of kibble on it. The cat’s whiskers twitched. Her eyes narrowed. I was certain she was going to run for the shelter of the bushes and the blackberry canes. Instead she took a step toward Marcus. He kept his hand out, holding it steady, and she took another step closer. One more and she was close enough to reach the food. She did the same thing with the first bite that she’d done before; she grabbed it and backed away. Then she crept forward and ate the rest from Marcus’s hand. It was the closest any of us had gotten to the little stray and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
When the few pieces of cat food had been eaten, I saw Micah hesitate. Then she licked Marcus’s hand. She looked up into his face and he reached out with two fingers to stroke her fur. To my complete surprise she didn’t run; instead she nuzzled his hand.
“You’re a beautiful cat,” I heard Marcus say. Oh so slowly he reached out his other hand. He had a chunk of kibble between his fingers and he fed it to her as his other hand continued to stroke her fur.
“Would you like another piece?” he said.
The cat made a soft murping sound, for all the world like what Owen and Hercules did when they were looking for a treat.
Slowly and carefully Marcus moved his hand back to his pocket. This time while Micah was eating he picked her up and got to his feet.
I expected the cat to turn into the same kind of Tasmanian devil—all claws and teeth—that Desmond, the clinic cat, had become when Marcus rescued him out here. Instead Micah licked his fingers again, then looked up at him and meowed.
He laughed. “Oh, you want more, do you? He reached into his pocket yet again and pulled out another bite. Then he walked over to me.
My foot had gone to sleep, I discovered when I tried to stand up. I wobbled and managed to catch my balance. The cat narrowed her eyes at me as she ate. She was probably wondering about the crazy dance I was doing.
“Hello, puss,” I said.
Micah continued to stare at me, but she made no move to get away from Marcus.
“How did you do that?” I said to him.
He gave me a half shrug. “I don’t know.”
I gestured at the cat cage. “I’m going to get the sardines.” I ran across to the cage, took out the plate of little fish, closed the trapdoor and raced back to Marcus. I held up the plate and the cat ate both fish, eyeing me curiously the entire time.
“Can you drive?” Marcus asked. “I’m not sure I should put her down.”