Cat Laughing Last Read Online Free PDF

He’ll go with me.”
    â€œHe’s a fine, dignified fellow. Does he hunt?”
    â€œNo. My daughter never trained him. She got himfor companionship. She’s working in San Francisco now, so I inherited Lamb. Do you have dogs?”
    â€œI used to raise pointers. I have two that I’ll be bringing down later, when I get the backyard fixed up for them.” He smiled. “Go on to brunch, Mrs. Brittain—you and Lamb. I’ll wait while you pack an overnight bag.”
    She gave Detective Garza her spare house key that she kept in her dresser, and packed a bag while he waited. His presence in the house was reassuring. Before she left, they checked the doors and windows together. As she drove away, she saw Detective Davis canvassing the neighborhood to see who might have been at home, who might have heard or seen anything unusual. The disappearance of the body—of the wounded man—distressed her. She didn’t like the idea that he might return.
    But, comforted by the officers’ thoroughness, she began to feel easier. She was not a flighty woman, she was not going to get hysterical over this. After the wreck that had left her so crippled, which had taken a year to recover from, she had been able to keep herself together. So why go to pieces over something so much smaller? All the time she was in the wheelchair she had not lost her nerve or resolve—at least, not very often. She told herself that this break-in, this ugly invasion of her privacy, was nothing compared to that nightmare. Yet she couldn’t shake the sense of being totally violated.
    She supposed everyone felt this way when such a thing happened, felt incredibly angry at their own helplessness. If she could get her hands on either of thosemen, even the hurt one, and if she was strong enough, she wouldn’t answer for what she might do.
    Parking a block from the Swiss House, she smoothed her short hair and put on some lipstick. Detective Garza was right, she needed her friends. Clipping on Lamb’s leash, she let him out of the car and headed for brunch, praying that she wouldn’t end up crying in her pancakes, making a fool of herself.

4
    W hen the ambulance screamed again through the village, Mavity Flowers jumped, startled, dropping the handful of old beaded evening bags she’d been sorting through. That violent noise tore right through a person. She never got used to it, not since the ambulance came when her husband died, when Lou was taken away.
    Pushing back her kinky gray hair, she knelt to pick up the little old purses, clutching them against her white uniform. Rising, she laid them out across the cluttered table atop a mess of other bargains so she could choose the best ones. You’d think she’d be used to sirens at her age, and with so many older folk in the village. The ambulance went out often, even if only for some poor soul who had taken a bad fall—went out more frequently than she liked to think about. She felt uneasy suddenly, thinking about her Senior Survival friends. But Cora Lee and Gabrielle were right there at the sale. Wilma never came to these events—but Wilma was healthy as a horse, working out twice a week and walking every day.
    She hadn’t seen Susan, and that was strange. Susangot up so early, she was always among the first, eager to get the best buys. Looking around for her, Mavity wanted to use the McLearys’ phone, see if she was all right.
    But that was foolish, that was the kind of fussing that would deeply annoy Susan. She was too independent to tolerate her friends’ checking on her for no sensible reason.
    Mavity sorted through the purses, selecting the nicest ones, and looking to see if any beads were missing. She hoped that when her time came to depart this world, there would be no need for sirens. That she’d go fast, that she wouldn’t have some terrible, debilitating stroke to leave her lingering. It terrified her to think