As I approached the stairs, a shadow shifted at the end of the hallway. I squinted for a closer look, wondering if at last I’d found the Sphynxes, and just as I was about to give up the search, too. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the cats—just my poor, overworked imagination. Keeping my eyes on the beautiful stained-glass windows in the foyer below, I stepped down and directly onto Octo-Cat, who hadn’t been there even a second earlier when I’d glanced down to ensure I had a clear path.
He let out a terrible, twisted yowl, and I quickly adjusted my weight to avoid hurting him any further. This adjustment caused me to lose my balance and tumble down several steps before catching myself halfway down.
“You tried to kill me!” I shouted, clutching my throbbing head. I’d hit it—I’d hit everything—on the way down. “You really tried to kill me!”
Octo-Cat widened his eyes in horror. “It was an accident,” he insisted, hobbling down for a closer look. I could tell he was hurting, too, but he’d live.
Me? I’d almost been murdered by my cat, and I had no idea why.
Nan came rushing in. “Angie, goodness! Is everything all right?”
“Octo-Cat tried to kill me,” I screamed again. How could this be real?
“No, Angela, no!” he continued, not even flicking his tail or making any of his usual irritated gestures. “It was an accident. There was a shiny red dot. I didn’t mean to—”
Suddenly, the front door burst open. My mom stood there, backlit by the setting sun, her hair wild with twigs sticking out of it at odd angles. “Get in the car now!” she told me. “Mom, your keys!” she told Nan.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!” Octo-Cat cried, but I could deal with him later. I ran down the steps as fast as I could and hopped in the passenger’s side seat of Nan’s sexy red sports coupe.
“What’s happening?” I cried as Mom joined me and jammed the keys in the ignition.
The engine roared to life and she pushed the car into high gear, creating a giant cloud of dust behind us. We took off so fast, the momentum whipped me back against the seat hard. My head began to throb again, but the physical pain was nothing next to the morbid curiosity I had for whatever came next.
“Mom!” I shouted, holding on tight to the dashboard as we flew down my driveway and turned onto the road ahead. “What is happening?”
“I saw who tried to kill you,” she said, and for the first time I noticed she was panting with exhaustion. “I was in the woods and came running the second I saw him slip out of your window. He killed Harlow, and now he was trying to kill you. My little girl! If I catch him before the cops do, he’s dead.”
“Mom!” I screamed again just to ensure I could be heard over the roar of the engine. She made another sharp turn, and Nan’s hot little ride fishtailed onto the main road that ran through Glendale. “Who? Who tried to kill me?”
She gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, but she only gunned the gas pedal even harder. We crossed the train tracks, and Mom practically lost control of the vehicle. Still, we were moving forward at speeds faster than any car should even be able to drive.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered, her jaw set in a determined line.
Sirens wailed behind us, and I recognized one of the county patrol cars as it pulled up behind us and quickly gained speed.
“Mom!” I cried. I still didn’t know what was happening, but it felt like I’d been saved by one murder plot only to wind up right in another one. “Stop! The police are behind us!”
“Good,” she said, taking another deep breath as she accelerated even faster. The speedometer edged dangerously close to the one-hundred and sixty miles per hour mark. How was this possible? Why were we even doing this?
Panic gripped me hard as we continued our wild ride. Oh my gosh, someone had tried to kill me, and now I was going to die at the hands of my mother’s crazy driving!
“Where would he go?” Mom shouted at me. “Where would he go next?”
“Who?” I screamed again. I still didn’t understand anything.
“Your boss,” she ground out, changing lanes with abandon. “Richard Thompson.”
Chapter Eighteen
My mind reeled while my body slammed against the car door and my seatbelt dug into my chest. Did my mom really think that my boss had tried to kill me? That couldn’t be possible. Octo-Cat had tripped me. I’d never even seen Thompson that day.
“Mom,” I said, hyperventilating. “I’m not sure what you saw, but Thompson was never at my house.”
“Yes, he was,” she shouted, taking another sharp turn.
We were going toward the law firm, I realized then. The cop car stayed right on our tail. I turned back and saw Officer Raines’s determined face as she pursued us. She and Mom had already gotten off on the wrong foot, and this impromptu high-speed chase pretty much ensured they’d never be on friendly terms, no matter what happened next.
“I don’t know how he got in,” Mom continued. “But he climbed out through the window.”
“When?” I pleaded, still not understanding. How could any of this be real?
“About two minutes before I made it to your door,” she said, slowing slightly as we passed by the law firm. Thompson’s car was not there.
That timing Mom reported lined up pretty well with my fall, but…
“There weren’t any cars. I didn’t see or hear anyone leave before us,” I insisted. Even if Thompson had somehow managed to get in and out of my house without being detected, he hadn’t gone anywhere in that little red sports car of his. The irony didn’t escape me that the pursuant and the pursuer had the exact same type of vehicle. What a chase this would have been, had Thompson actually been a part of it.
“Of course,” Mom yelled, twisting the car in an action movie-like U-turn. “He’s still on foot! We have to get back! Your nan!”
Fear gripped every fiber of my being as I thought of my poor, vulnerable grandmother all alone with a killer. She was tough, but that was all attitude. If he came at her physically, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
The sirens whooped behind us. “Pull your vehicle to the side of the road,” Officer Raines commanded over the loud speaker.
“C’mon, Mom,” I said, still clutching tight to the dashboard. “Get us back to Nan!”
I had no idea where my mom had acquired her wicked stunt driving skills, but she got us back to the manor house in record time, which was saying a lot considering how quickly we’d initially peeled away.
As soon as the scar skidded to a stop, I jumped out and raced toward the house, stumbling on the porch stairs as I went. “Nan!” I cried. “Please be okay!”
Nan appeared in the open doorway wearing her polka-dotted apron and drying her hands on a dish towel. “Of course I’m all right, dear. Just finishing up dinner. Did you and your mother have fun on that high-speed chase of yours?”
I hugged her tight but was quickly pulled back by one very angry Officer Raines. Somehow, she already had Mom cuffed and face down in the dirt. “Stop!” I screamed. “We aren’t the bad guys!”
Officer Raines slapped a pair of cuffs on me anyway and began to cite my Miranda Rights.
Mom struggled on the ground. “He’s still here somewhere. He tried to kill my daughter!”
The lady cop did not seem amused. “Likely story,” she mumbled.
But Nan poked her hard on the shoulder, causing us all to gasp. “You listen here, missy! If my daughter says there’s a killer on the loose, then you better believe there’s a killer loose. So what if she went a little over the speed limit? Is that as bad as having a murderer on the loose?”
Officer Raines laughed sarcastically. “A little! Try one hundred and twelve at least.”