Cat Coming Home Read Online Free PDF Page B

the holidays. Why had she left all this in the car overnight? Maybe, Dulcie thought, knowing how her own housemate managed such matters, she’d wanted to clean and line cupboards before bringing in new kitchenware and linens. Looked as if she’d bought additional decorations, too, for the big tree that Joe had seen David carrying into the house.
    Pulling out half a dozen bulky white bags, most with her right hand and favoring her left arm, she eased the trunk lid closed and turned back toward the house. Loaded with packages, she had paused to peer over them to find her footing on the curb when, up the hill, the same brown pickup appeared again suddenly, racing around the corner, barreling straight down at Maudie, its engine roaring, its sides rattling, the driver only a shadow behind the smeared window.
    “Get back!” Ryan shouted as she dove for Maudie,grabbed her, jerked her from the truck’s path onto the curb, Maudie’s packages scattering around them, one bag hitting the curb with a crash of broken china. Inches from them, the truck veered out again to avoid the Lincoln, scraping down the car’s length as it passed, a violent wrenching of metal, then skidded into a sharp turn onto the side street and vanished.
    The two women stood on the sidewalk, the Lincoln between them and the street. Behind them on the porch, little Benny stood frozen, white-faced and seemingly unable to move. The cats’ own involuntary cries of warning had been drowned in Ryan’s shout. They raced down across the roofs for Maudie’s roof as Ryan snatched her cell phone from her belt. She was pressing 911 when Maudie grabbed the phone and hit the end button.
    “What are you doing?” Ryan snapped. “We need the police.”
    Maudie shook her head. She was as pale as Benny.
    “He could have killed you,” Ryan looked at her, incredulous. “Maybe they can catch him, you need to call in a report.”
    Maudie looked back at her, shaking her head. Behind them the sound of the Skilsaw had ceased, and Scotty appeared in the open doorway. Benny turned and clung to him. The big, steady man put his arm around the little boy, drawing him close.
    “Give me the phone,” Ryan said, biting back her temper. The cats expected her to force the phone from Maudie’s hand. She didn’t, but her voice was low with anger. “You have to report this, Maudie. If only for the insurance claim.”
    Maudie put her hand on Ryan’s arm. “I wouldn’t file for insurance. My … my deductible’s too high.” She studied Ryan. “Let it go. Please, just let it be.”
    Ryan stared at her then turned away and began picking up packages. Maudie took two white plastic bags from her and headed for the house. When the cats, peering over, got a good look at Maudie’s face, she looked far more excited than frightened. What was that about? As Maudie and Benny moved inside, the cats scrambled down an oak tree and followed them through the open door into the house where they could watch Maudie and listen.

6

    A N HOUR BEFORE the truck came roaring down at Maudie, and a dozen blocks away, the tortoiseshell cat paced the early-morning rooftops looking down from between the peaks and chimneys at the village shops below. Kit’s black and brown coat shone dark within the fog, drops of fog clinging to the tips of her long fur like tiny jewels. Below her, the shop windows were bright with a dazzle of small, lavishly decorated Christmas trees, with silver and gold packages which, while only empty inside, were festive and enticing. Several windows featured carefully arranged crèche scenes, and these always drew Kit. In the small hours of the nights before Christmas, when the streets were at last deserted, she and Dulcie would prowl the dark, empty village, standing tall on their hind paws peering in at the baby Jesus and the wise men and the little miniature animals all snuggled in their beds of straw—but there was never a cat, the crèches never had cats. Dulcie said therewere no