"The kit was up my back digging her claws in. The lion stopped again and stood looking at us. Just-looking. I wanted to run, and knew you daren't do that. I glanced at Hanni. She was standing stone still. I felt like we were glued to the ground. And then the kit, still digging in-she snuggled down by my ear and whispered, so soft. She told me to look big, to hold my jacket up, make myself look bigger."
From Kate's lap, the kit stared at her, trying to see what was so amusing.
"She told me to look him in the eye and speak clearly. She said, 'Tell him to get lost.'
"I held up my coat and spoke to him just as the kit said. And Hanni-Hanni knew what I was doing. She came up beside me, holding up her coat, and we stood together telling the lion very sternly to go away.
"And he did," Kate said. She sat back in her chair, hugging the kit. "He turned and melted away into the garden. He was standing on a fallen tree one second and gone the next. I thought he had dropped down behind the log, that he would wait, then attack. But then we saw him far up the hill, standing among the trees. Still watching us."
Charlie had to grin. She felt like she'd known Kate forever- Kate's animal sense, her humor, and the way she loved the kit. All were qualities that drew her to Kate-as did the fact that she and Kate shared the cats' momentous secret. They were bound together, with Clyde and Wilma, in a confidence that, if any of them broke it, would be the most horrible of betrayals.
"And we got out of there," Kate said. "The moment he was gone. Went straight to the police to tell them about the barrette."
"Wilma gave Dillon a barrette," Charlie said. "Silver, set with turquoise strips."
"It was there in the Pamillon nursery. Beside an old firewood box next to the hearth. A box big enough for a young girl to hide."
"But why didn't the searchers find it?"
"The kit found it in the chest, caught up under the lid. Must have pulled off when Dillon hid."
Kate grinned. "The kit found it, and the cats brought it to me while Hanni was distracted."
"And you gave it to Officer Wendell?"
"Yes. What's wrong?"
"I… nothing. When you went to the police, wasn't Hanni surprised that you brought the cats down from the ruins with you?"
"No. She wouldn't have left them, with the cougar there. It seemed perfectly natural to her to bring them down."
Charlie rose to pour boiling water into the teapot. She felt as comfortable with Kate as if she'd known her forever. Setting the teapot on the table, she fetched the lemon cookies, sliding them onto a plate.
Kate's color was coming back. "To see such a thing, Charlie. Can you imagine it? I felt terrified, but I was filled with such wonder. I still can't believe I saw that beautiful beast, so close to us."
How strange, Charlie thought, that Kate's voice seemed filled with envy.
And she saw envy again, a few minutes later, as Kate looked at the pencil and ink studies of animals that Charlie had lined up along the wall, and at the framed drawings hanging above them, sketches of cats and dogs and of Max Harper's horses. "And raccoons," Kate said. "These are all quite wonderful. And foxes. Where…?"
"In the hills," Charlie said, "around Harper's place. We've been working the pups on obedience, those two big pups Clyde found. Working them in Max's pasture."
"And the foxes were watching?" Kate teased.
"In the evenings," Charlie said, laughing. "That big fellow in the drawings, he comes near the porch. He knows when the dogs are shut in their stall. I think he comes to hunt mice. Max never puts out food."
The village of Molena Point imposed a stiff fine for setting out food for wild animals. The area was overrun with raccoons; they turned over trash cans and would break into people's houses, tearing through the screens. Even George Jolly had been criticized for setting out treats in his alley, though the deli was right in the center of the village, not on the outskirts where the smell of food was more likely to attract a wild beast. Raccoons hunting in packs had killed village cats and small dogs-and the raccoons and foxes drew the larger predators: bobcats and an occasional coyote, and now the cougar.
"You've been seeing a lot of Harper," Kate said tentatively, "what with training the pups."
Charlie nodded. "Clyde talked to you about that?"
"He mentioned it."
"And…?"
Kate shrugged. "Clyde's easily made jealous." She grinned. "Not to worry-jealousy's good for him, keeps him on his toes."
"Clyde asked you to pump me. To see how I feel about Harper."
"Would you mind?"
"I-I suppose not. What difference? Our petty feelings, right now… What difference? Oh, why did this have to happen! To a good man!"
"That's how you feel about him."
"Maybe. I really don't know how I feel, Kate."
Kate nodded. "Are there any leads to the murder? Any suspects? I know that everyone's looking for Dillon. What a terrible thing this has been."
"There's a parolee in town who might be involved. But I don't hear much. The department keeps pretty tight security." She looked at Kate. "Those officers will do everything that's humanly possible to find the killer and clear their chief."
"There's… no chance that Harper, under some kind of stress, in a moment of rage…?"
"Max Harper?" Charlie felt her face go hot. "Kill that woman and her daughter? No way in hell Max could do such a thing." She rose, refilled the teakettle, and put it back on the burner. Turning, she looked at Kate. "You can't believe drat."
Kate smiled. "No. I don't believe that."
"Still a fishing trip."
Kate shrugged.
From the couch, the cats watched this exchange with amused interest.
Kate took two more cookies, ate them quickly. "Do you remember when three men escaped from San Quentin?"
"Yes. From death row? You're talking about the one from Molena Point. The one who was sent to prison at the same time-"
"The same time as my ex-husband."
Kate swallowed half a cup of tea. "I think I may have seen him in San Francisco. Someone in the city is murdering cats. He did that, Lee Wark did that." She shivered. "He liked to kill cats."
On the couch, Joe and Dulcie moved closer together, their blood going icy. The tortoiseshell kit turned wide yellow eyes on Kate.
Kate looked back at them sternly. "You would stay far away from a man like that. A tall, thin man, Kit. Thin and hunched and pale, with muddy eyes."
The three cats shivered.
"The man in San Francisco," Kate said, "had a black coat that made him look squarer and broader. A black goatee. Black hat. But his eyes were the same. Like a dead fish."
The kit crowded closer to Kate. Frightened, Dulcie thought. Frightened down to her little black paws. And so am I. And she watched the kit, terrified for her.
Lee Wark had tried to kill Dulcie and Joe just as he had tried to kill Kate. And if he got one look into the kit's eyes, Wark would know that she, too, was not an ordinary cat.
But Wark was not there in the village, he would not come there. The very thought made her fur crawl.
"Dallas will be here in the morning," Kate said. "He's very aware of Wark."
"What's he like? What kind of man?"
"I work with his niece, I'm her design assistant. Dallas helped to raise Hanni and her sisters after their mother died. Hanni says he's totally honest. But…" Kate laughed. "I guess that's like asking what kind of man your father is. What are you going to say?"