The heat was rising quickly and sweat broke out on her brow. Worse, she was starting to have trouble breathing because of the lack of ventilation. She understood now what Hillary was trying to accomplish. She’d simply let her die from heat exposure. Make it look like an accident. Already she was feeling the strain, and dropped down on the wooden bench. She removed her T-shirt and jeans, and tried to stay calm and collected. Panic wasn’t her friend right now—slowing down her heartbeat and helping her body deal with this sudden assault was.
She closed her eyes and tried to remember the few yoga lessons she’d taken. Slow breaths. Centering herself. Someone would come. She’d get through this. She was not going to die.
As the temperature soared, she was now sweating so much her underwear was soaked and she was starting to feel dizzy. And just before she dropped down on the bench, she thought she felt a rush of cool air and a face swimming before her eyes. And then she passed out.
When she came to, she found herself gazing into Chase’s eyes. She was lying on the floor and someone was poking at her arm.
“Chase?” she asked weakly. “Where am I? What happened?”
He smiled. “Thank God. I thought I lost you, honey. How are you feeling?”
She smacked her lips. “Thirsty.”
He laughed, and when she looked down, she saw that a male nurse was checking her pulse. “She’ll be fine,” he said. “She’s going to need a lot of fluids, though.”
“I’ll make sure she gets what she needs,” Chase assured the man.
She looked around, and saw she was right outside the sauna, the sauna door open. Then memory returned and she tried to sit up. The moment she did, her head started swimming again. “Hillary!” she cried. “Hillary tried to kill me!”
“I know,” said Chase, gently easing her down again. “We got her. She’s in custody.”
“And how is my favorite niece?” asked her uncle, crouching down next to her.
“I’m your only niece,” she said weakly.
Her uncle seemed worried. “Please, Odelia, if you don’t want me to die from heart failure, never pull a stunt like this again. Next time you want to confront a suspect, call for backup.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t sure Hillary was the one—though I had my suspicions.”
“Good thing Chase had the same suspicions.”
She gave Chase a look of surprise. “You did?”
“After what happened on the beach I started looking for the name of that girl from Cleveland. Don’t ask me why. A hunch, I guess.”
“Women’s intuition,” she said with a smile. “It’s rubbed off on you.”
“That might well be the case. Cause that girl turned out to be Hillary’s daughter. Died seven years ago after an apitherapy attempt gone wrong. It wasn’t a big leap from that incident to Donna’s death by bee sting, so…”
“So you flew to my side like a rescuing angel.”
“Only a lot uglier,” Uncle Alec said with a grin.
Odelia placed her hand on Chase’s cheek. “Chase isn’t ugly. He’s gorgeous.”
“That’s just the drugs talking,” Chase grunted.
“’No, that’s me talking. I think you’re gorgeous, Detective Kingsley. And I thank you for saving my life.”
Uncle Alec shuffled uncomfortably. “I’ll give you kids some space,” he muttered, and got up.
“The Chief is right, Odelia,” said Chase. “Please don’t pull a stunt like this again. Next time call me first.”
“I will,” she promised him. “And my cats, of course.”
“Of course. Where would we be without your cats?”
“Nowhere! They solved this whole thing! Well, Dooley did, at least.”
“Of course he did. Let’s get you out of here. You’re not making any sense.”
He helped her to her feet and she leaned on him as they walked away from that fateful sauna cabin. She noticed someone had dressed her in a thick sweater. Since it said NYPD on the front she assumed it was Chase’s. “What happened to my bra and panties? They must have been soaked.”
“I… removed them,” he said, blushing slightly. “But I looked away as I did.”
“Of course you did,” she said, placing her hand on his chest and squeezing.
“Now what was that about me being a gorgeous rescuing angel again?” he asked when they were out in the open, and making their way to his car.
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?”
“It’s not something I hear every day.”
“Well, if you propose to me, Chase Kingsley, I promise I will tell you all that and more.”
He eyed her sternly. “Still the drugs talking. Let’s get you to your father.”
“Yes, because you’ll have to ask his approval. He’s old-fashioned he is, my dad.”
“Ask for his approval, huh?”
“Yep. Ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“And if he doesn’t approve?”
“Then you’re shit out of luck, buster.”
He laughed. “Now I know it’s the drugs talking.”
“I’m serious!”
“So am I. Let’s get you home and into your jammies.”
“Ooh. Naughty naughty, Detective.”
Unfortunately, the moment she stepped into his car, she passed out again. She had a dim recollection of Chase carrying her up the stairs and tucking her into bed. He pressed a kiss to her brow, hoisted Max onto the bed and then she fell into a well-deserved sleep.
Epilogue
When I finally looked up from my bowl, I was feeling extremely pleased with myself. In the days that had passed since Odelia had caught Donna’s killer, I’d stuck to my diet and Dooley had stuck to his. And as I had slimmed down, Dooley had packed on the pounds. It was probably too much to say we were the same weight, but we were a lot closer in size than before. Dooley would always be a skinny cat, of course, and me a more sizable one, but I liked to think we’d both benefited from this uncomfortable episode in our lives.
When Chase had brought Odelia home, half unconscious, it had come as quite a shock to us, and when I’d seen her like that, I’d sworn that I was going to lose those pounds no matter what. We’d obviously let our human down in her hour of need and I was feeling very badly about it, even though Odelia said there was nothing we could have done.
I still felt that if I’d been more alert, we would never have allowed her to go off without her feline assistants by her side. I needed to be fitter, healthier and stronger than ever, if I was going to be my human’s protector, and for some strange reason all of a sudden I didn’t feel so hungry again all the time, or so weak. And even the diet food suddenly tasted better.
Which just goes to show: it’s all a matter of psychology. I once saw that on the Discovery Channel, so it must be true.
It was barbecue time at the Pooles again, and for the occasion Odelia had placed four bowls in a row, our names printed on the sides: Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus. The fearsome foursome. And for the first time in days, I wasn’t eating diet kibble but an actual piece of red meat!
All the usual suspects were present and accounted for: Tex and Marge, Vesta, Uncle Alec, Odelia and Chase. After we’d eaten our fill, us cats jumped up on the porch swing and settled in for the evening, watching our humans eat. Watching humans is actually one of my favorite hobbies, apart from cat choir and snooping around, of course.
Odelia wandered over, a Coke Zero in her hand. “And? How was the food?”
“Delicious,” I said. “Though I don’t feel like I deserve it.”
“Oh, stop it, Max,” she said with a smile. “You guys cracked this case.”
“No, Dooley did,” I said honestly. “I just slept right through the whole thing.”
“You all worked together, just like you’re supposed to. And I’m very proud of you. All of you.”
“You are?” asked Harriet, who’d been feeling kinda bummed out at the role she’d played. Or not played.
“Yes, I am. You guys are a real team. My fierce feline team.”