Cat Cross Their Graves Read Online Free PDF Page B

Lucinda went silent, cuddling Dulcie close as an officer wandered past them. Then she looked down at Dulcie and Joe. “We’ve tramped the village for over an hour, looking for her. Clyde is out there somewhere. Pedric’s still looking. I’m worried for him, he’s been gone a long time. Did you know that Kit’s been watching a stranger? Some tourist, I thought.”
    The cats’ eyes widened.
    â€œShe’s so secretive. All week, she’s been peering out the window at him, watching, and sometimes she would slip out and follow him—though she’s never gone long. As if maybe he takes off in a car. A thin man, small. Maybe five feet tall. I don’t—”
    At Joe’s expression, Lucinda stopped. “What, Joe?”
    â€œBlack hair,” Joe said. “Small hands like a child?”
    Lucinda nodded. “No taller than a twelve-year-old.” The old woman stared at him, just as Dulcie was staring. “Do you know him? Who is he? I’m terrified of what might have happened to her.”
    Joe kneaded his claws nervously on the redwoodbench. “I only saw him once, don’t know who he is. Guy made me edgy as hell.” Just thinking about that little man made Joe’s fur stiffen with apprehension.
    Three nights ago when he saw the small, strange man, he had backed away for no reason and hidden from him, not even ashamed of his cowardice. Maybe it was some subliminal scent, or maybe something in the guy’s movements. Whatever, he’d kept his distance.
    That was Monday night; it had been raining all night but had finally eased off. Entering Jolly’s alley, he had enjoyed a leisurely and solitary midnight feast, finishing up the fresh leftovers George Jolly had set out. Crouching beneath the little roof of the feeding station that Mr. Jolly put out in bad weather, a little decorative structure like a hand-decorated doghouse, Joe had taken his time enjoying his meal, hoping wherever Dulcie was, with her stupid secrets, she was hungry and cold. Jolly’s alley was one of Dulcie’s favorite places, and Joe had taken perverse delight in going there alone and pigging out on the fine deli offerings, including one of Dulcie’s favorites, creamy salmon salad.
    He had been sitting beneath the jasmine vine washing salmon off his whiskers when a strange little man passed by, out on the sidewalk. He watched the guy pause and turn back to stand at the mouth of the alley, looking in. Being that the man was silhouetted against the streetlights, Joe could see only that he was short and frail, couldn’t see his face. But even his silhouette made Joe’s fur stand up, gave him a jolt that he didn’t understand but that sent him backing deeper among the shadows.
    The stranger had peered in at the potted flowers and shrubs, idly studying the inky recesses beneath the benches and around Joe’s concealing vine. Joe, already crouched down, ducked his head to hide the white stripe down his nose, concealing as well his other white markings. Hunched there like a rolled-up porcupine, he had felt icy fear course through him, puzzling but quite real.
    Maybe the guy had stirred an ugly memory. Triggered an unpleasant association. Maybe jarred in him some emotion from that other incident in Jolly’s alley, three years earlier, when those two men entered and Joe witnessed one kill the other with a crescent wrench. Maybe this little man’s appearance reminded him of that singular and shocking moment.
    And maybe not. A cat couldn’t always account for his fear-driven reactions. But a cat had the sense to pay attention.
    Watching the small man, Joe had licked his shoulder, which was wet from the recent rain, and had wondered why this tourist was out in wet weather. A little rain was no big deal to a cat; there were countless niches where one could shelter out of the downpour and lick one’s fur dry. But not many tourists walked for pleasure