Sammy Keyes and the Psycho Kitty Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

cans?”
    She shrugged. “Well, why not just put them all in one Dumpster?”
    “Because if someone happens to notice one cat in a trash can, that's one thing. It's no reason to call the police, right? But if there are two, or three,
or four
, you're going to think, Whoa now! Something weird is going on.”
    “But—”
    “Is your trash pickup on Mondays?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Ours, too. Which means we've got today and tomorrow to check around. And tomorrow… well, tomorrow's out for me.”
    “So you're saying you want to go snooping through trash cans?”
    I nodded. “That's what I'm saying.”
    She laughed and shook her head. “Isn't that ironic.”
    I grinned at her and said, “Yeah, it's ironic,” because back before Meg and her mother, Vera, took her in, Holly was a foster-home runaway. She lived her life digging through trash, and even after she wasn't homeless any more, she
still
did it. I finally had to yell at her to stop, because it was so embarrassing walking around with someone who snooped through everyone's garbage.
    She laughed. “So when do you want to start?”
    “Well, my mom's here—”
    “Your
mom'shere
?”
    “Yeah. And I should get back up there, but I already need a shower so… “
    “So you want to go now?”
    “Just for a little while. Why don't we start behind your building and take a quick check around the block?”
    “Sounds good to me.” She nodded at the plastic sack. “What about Mr. T?”
    “Can we leave him behind the Pup Parlor for now?”
    She shrugged. “Don't see why not.”
    So we raced back across the lawn, jaywalked Broadway
again
, and after we'd shown Meg and Vera the Unfortunate Mr. T, we grabbed a couple of plastic liners and some clean gloves and got to work.
    There was nothing in Slammin' Dave's trash. Nothing in any of the trash cans on Wesler. Nothing down the next street or in the alley or the Heavenly Hotel's Dumpster. We ran from can to can, got barked at by a lotof dogs, and got some pretty strange looks from people, but we didn't find any cats.
    Well, not dead ones anyway
    When we got to Main Street, I sighed and said, “It sure
felt like
we were on to something.”
    “We've still got the whole Maynard's area and down that way,” Holly said.
    “Yeah, but I've got to get back home.” I handed her my gloves and sacks. “Thanks for doing this with me.”
    “Sure,” she said as I took off running. “I'll call you later!”
    “Bye!”
    When I got home, my mom said, “There you are!”
    “Sorry!” I said. “I found another dead cat down in the Dumpster—”
    “Another dead cat?” My mother's face crinkled up. “What on earth…?”
    “I know. So I went over to Holly's ‘cause—”
    “Enough talk of dead things,” Grams said. “Why don't you take a quick shower and I'll make us some lunch. We've got lots we need to talk about.” Then she looked over at my mother and said, “Right?”
    My mom smiled politely, then looked away.
    Lots to talk about? As I went to Grams' dresser and got a change of clothes, my whole body started feeling disconnected. Like my ligaments weren't holding my bones together right. Had the day finally come that my mom was going to tell me who my father was? Did she finally think I was old enough?
    I was going to be fourteen! Of course I was oldenough—I'd been old enough for years! I just hadn't had any luck convincing
her
of that. And Grams had always insisted on staying out of it. “It's not my place to tell you, Samantha.” How many times had I heard
that
?
    But now…well, there was obviously
something
, and what else could it be? So as I took my shower, I started getting nervous. Almost panicky. Why had my father been such a secret all these years? Was he a criminal? A jerk? Slimy?
Dead?
I mean, what was taking so long for her to tell me if there
wasn't
something weird about him? She wouldn't be keeping it from me if he was just some normal guy, right?
    But then maybe that wasn't it at all. Maybe she was