The Pet-Sitting Peril Read Online Free PDF Page B

reached the landing, over the flat part of the garage roof, Eloise ceased licking her paw and watched suspiciously. She hunched down as if preparing to spring, and Melody stopped and began to speak in a soft, coaxing tone. “Pretty kitty. Nice girl. Nice kitty.”
    Eloise’s head swiveled, the unwinking eyes fixing on Nick where he watched below.
    Melody spoke without turning around. “Maybe if you got out of her sight, she wouldn’t be so tense and she’d let me walk up the rest of the steps.”
    It would be fine with him if he never saw the cat again, Nick thought, only he was stuck for now. He stepped closer to the building, out of the cat’s sight between a pair of garbage cans, expecting that any minute Eloise would leap over his head and take off down the alley.
    She didn’t, though. A moment later Melody called, “I’ve got her!” and then her feet sounded on the steps, coming down.
    She held Eloise in a reassuringly secure grip. “Maybe I could take her back to wherever she belongs? So you don’t upset her again?”
    â€œSure, fine with me,” Nick agreed. When he spoke, Eloise spat at him. “Boy, I don’t know how I’m going to keep on giving her medicine if she’s going to act like this.”
    As long as he kept his distance, Eloise seemed content to be carried by someone else.They walked back between the houses toward the front, where there was a new Cadillac parked behind the U-Haul van. Nick vaguely remembered seeing it when he’d come out earlier; it must belong to the man who’d allowed the cat to escape.
    Sure enough, the man was coming out onto the porch now, and Mr. Griesner was with him. The stranger carried a white envelope in one hand, and Nick suddenly guessed who he was. Mr. Hale, who owned the apartment house. All the tenants paid Mr. Griesner, who then handed the checks over to the owner.
    His guess was verified when he listened to their parting conversation, standing there on the sidewalk rather than interrupting until the men got out of the way.
    â€œWhat you want me to do about that linoleum, then?” the manager asked. “Anybody trips over it and gets hurt, I wouldn’t bet they wouldn’t sue.”
    â€œYeah, people sue over anything these days,” Mr. Hale said. He ran a hand over his head, smoothing down the thinning strands of gray hair. “Well, tack it down again, and I’ll see aboutgetting some new stuff for the whole hall. See if I can find some on sale, maybe.”
    â€œI’ll tack it down. It’s not going to last long, though, it’s too wore out,” Mr. Griesner said. “What about the painters? You interested in talking to ’em?”
    â€œI want the place painted, I’ll find my own painters. You know what they’ll do to my taxes if I paint this place? Up they go, every little improvement a man makes. No, better to take care of the stuff inside first, where the assessor won’t notice it for a while. They make it hard for a man to make a living on his investments, those tax people. Sometimes I don’t think it’s worth it, the little a man makes from a rental unit. I’d sell my places like this one, if I could. Trouble is, nobody’s got the cash to buy it, and it’s practically impossible to get financing on it. Banks want so much interest, people can’t afford it. And old places like this, banks don’t want to finance, anyway. They expect everything to be up to snuff—plumbing, wiring—like a brand-new house.” He shook his head at the problems of being a landlord. “Anyway, I’m not going to put any more money intoit than I have to. One of these days the recession will be over, and people will have money again. Maybe all the tenants could get together, then, and buy it themselves.”
    Mr. Griesner made a snorting sound. “Nobody lives in this place is ever going to have enough money