He lay still, hands beneath the back of his head, staring up at the ceiling, lights out, music on. Beyond his window he could see the top of the US Bank Corporate Center almost touching the slivered moon, a red light blinking at the top of the crown. Brazil stared, zoning out again, an unsettling realization coming over him. Tomorrow would be two weeks since the last Black Widow slaying.
"Christ." He sat up, sweating, and breathing hard. He kicked off sheets and stood. He began pacing, with nothing on but gym shorts. He drank more water and stood in his bare kitchen, staring out at US Bank thinking, worrying. Out there somewhere was another businessman about to become a victim! If only there were some way to prevent it. Where was the killer now? What was the bastard thinking as he loaded his gun, and thought his evil thoughts, waiting on the web of Five Points for the next rental car to innocently creep into the city?
Wft Niles was following West all over the house. She was certain the cat had gone haywire, and knew this was a danger with Siamese, Abyssinians, and all over bred cross-eyed creatures that had been around for thousands of years. Niles wound through her moving legs, almost tripping her twice, and she had no choice but to boot him across the room.
Niles cried out, but persisted, then he got angry. One more boot, he thought, and you've had it. West gave him the side of her foot, sending him under the bed, scoring another point.
Niles watched from his dark space between the box spring and hardwood floor, his tail twitching. Niles waited until his owner had taken off shoes and socks, then he shot out and bit the soft spot at the back of her heel, right behind the ankle bone. He knew this hurt, because he'd tested it before. His owner chased him around the house for ten minutes, and he ran with sincerity, because he recognized true homicidal rage when he saw it.
Niles returned to the bed and stayed under it until his owner got tired and wanted to sleep. Sneaking out, Niles returned to the kitchen. He curled up on the sill, where his kind and loving King kept watch over him during dark, lonely nights.
Morning came and brought rain. The unfriendly alarm clock buzzed loudly and stung West awake. She groaned, lying in bed, refusing to get up as heavy drops of water drummed the roof. This was perfect sleeping weather. Why should she get up? Memories of Brazil and his stranded BMW, of Niles and his outrageous behavior last night, depressed and excited her at the same time. This made no sense. She pulled the covers up around her chin, and images came, disturbing ones somehow relating to whatever she had dreamt. When she was absolutely still, she could almost feel Brazil's hands and mouth all over her.
She was horrified and stayed in bed for quite some time.
Niles, having free rein of the house for a bit, had crept into the laundry room. He was interested in the big white box with wet clothes in it. On top were several folded bills and some change. He jumped up, having yet another idea of how to pass along King Usbeecee's message to Niles's owner. Of course, Niles knew with joy that his owner could do something about the King's endangerment. She could act on it, roar in wearing her important suit with all its leather and metal and dangerous toys. That's what this was all about, Niles was convinced.
The King had spoken to him, and wanted him to pass along the information to his owner. She in turn would alert other fierce leaders. The troops would be called, the King and all Usbeeceeans saved.
Niles spent a difficult five minutes flipping open the cover on top of the washing machine. He dipped in a paw and pulled out a small, wet article of clothing. He grabbed a folded five-dollar bill in his mouth, and jumped back down, excited, knowing his owner would be so pleased. She wasn't. His owner did not seem the least bit thrilled to see Niles, and sat up in a rage when her face was draped with a pair of wet panties that had been dragged across the house. She stared at the panties, and the five-dollar bill on her chest, and a chill settled over her.
"Wait a minute," she said to Niles, who was fleeing.
"Come back.
Really. "
Niles stopped, and looked at her, thinking, his tail twitching. He didn't trust her.
"Okay. Truce," West promised.
"Something's up. This isn't just your acting kooky, is it? Come here and tell me."
Niles knew her tone was honest, and maybe even a little contrite. He walked across the bedroom, and hopped three feet up to the bed, like it was nothing. He sat staring at her as she began to pet him.
"You brought me a pair of panties and money," she said.
"Mean something?"
His tail twitched, but not enthusiastically.
"Has to do with panties?"
His tail went still.
"Underwear?"
No response.
"Sex?"
He didn't budge.
"Shit," she muttered.
"What else? Well, let me retrace this thing, work it like a crime scene. You went to the washing machine, opened the lid, fished this out, it's wet, and not been in the dryer yet. So what, exactly, did you intend to fetch and then bring to me? Clothes?"
Niles was getting bored.
"Of course not," West reprimanded herself. Niles could get clothes from anywhere, the chair, the floor. He had gone to a lot of trouble for one pair of panties.
"You went into the laundry," she said.
Niles twitched.
"Ah, getting warm. Laundry? It that it?"
Niles went crazy, twitching and nuzzling her hand. West next started on the five-dollar bill. It took only two tries to affirm that money was the operative word.
"Laundry money," West muttered, mystified.
Niles could help her no further, and believed he had carried out his assignment. He jumped off the bed and returned to the kitchen, where water washed out the King's morning greeting to his faithful subject.
Niles was disappointed, and West was late. She dashed out the door, then dashed back in, having forgotten the most important item, the little box she disconnected from her own telephone. She sped along East Boulevard to South Boulevard, and turned off on Woodlawn. Brazil was wearing a windbreaker with a hood, and waiting in the parking lot, because he did not want her to see his small place with nothing in it.
"Hi," he said, getting in.
"Sorry I'm late." She could not look at him.
"My cat's lost his mind."
Well, this was certainly starting off well, Brazil dismally realized.
He was thinking about her, and she was thinking about her cat.
"What's wrong with him?" Brazil asked.
West pulled out of the parking lot as rain sprinkled. Her tires swished over wet streets. Brazil was acting as if nothing had happened. It just went to corroborate her belief that all males were the same. She supposed that his foray through her private possessions was no different than flipping through a magazine full of naked women. A thrill. A passing turn-on like a vibrating motorcycle seat or the right person sitting in your lap when the car was packed with too many passengers.
"He's just crazy, that's all," West said.
"Stares out the window all the time. Drags things out of my washing machine. Bites me. Makes weird yowling noises."
"This is new and different behavior?" asked Brazil, the psychologist.
"Oh yeah."
"What kind of yowling sounds?" Brazil went on.
"He goes yowl-y owl-yowl. Then he's quiet, and does the same thing again. Always three syllables."
"Sounds to me like Niles is trying to tell you something, and you're not listening. Quite possibly he's pointing out something right under your nose, but either you're caught up in other preoccupations, or you don't want to hear it." Brazil enjoyed making this point.
"Since when are you a cat shrink?" West glanced at him, experiencing that same giddy sensation again, that wiggling in her bowels, as if tadpoles had hatched somewhere down there.
Brazil shrugged.
"It's all about human nature, animal nature, whatever you want to call it. If we take the time to try and look at reality from someone else's perspective, try a little compassion, it can make a difference."
"Gag," West said, and she flew right by the Sunset East exit.
"You just passed the truck stop. And what you do you mean, gagV " You sure got your lines down pat, don't you, boy? " She laughed in a not-so-nice way.
"I'm not a boy, in case you haven't noticed," he said, and he realized for the first time, to his shock, that Virginia West was scared.
"I'm a legal adult, and I don't deliver lines. You must have met a lot of bad people in life."
This honestly amused her. She started laughing as rain fell harder.
She turned on wipers and her radio, while Brazil watched her, a smile playing on his lips, although he was clueless as to what he had said to amuse her so.
"Met a lot of bad people. " I She sputtered, almost helpless.
"What do I do for a living, for Christ's sake? Work in a bakery, serve ice cream cones, arrange flowers?" More peals of laughter.
"I didn't mean just what you do for a living," Brazil said.
"The bad people you meet in policing aren't the ones who really hurt you. It's people off the job. You know, friends and family."