The Cat Between Read online

  “So Harriet’s a police dog?” asked Gerry, scrunching the dog’s ears affectionately.

  “Almost,” he said. “Well, we should be getting back. I’ll have paperwork. And,” he added grimly, “another matter to clear up.”

  “So J-L isn’t the bad cop. His boss, his local boss, is. J-L was brought in as an unknown who could go undercover. And the bad cop thought J-L was investigating the small fry dealing on the ski hill, but really, he was trying to find out who on the local force was trafficking.”

  She munched happily, looking around at her friends seated in the formal dining room, at the flowers and candles and the remains of the good meal they’d all contributed to. “I never thought I’d like Brussels sprouts but I do. The way you prepare them, Prudence.” She drank from her second glass of red wine. “And the beef, Cathy! You’ve outdone yourself!”

  Cathy and Prudence exchanged an amused look. That Prudence’s Brussels sprouts, steamed then lapped in a brown gravy infused with garlic, onion and thyme, and sprinkled with freshly toasted almond slivers, were good, was a given. As for the beef Wellington, better not to tell how, in the confusion of people coming and going, the kitchen door onto the porch had been left open. Fortunately, Cathy had been able to repair the pastry, gnawed by Bob and Ronald, after they’d clawed through the plastic wrap. After all, as Prudence had noted, it was going to be sterilized when it was cooked.

  “He’s had to sort all that out. He said he probably wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.”

  Cathy and Prudence shared another look. Cathy shrugged. That her favourite, the exotic newcomer, had been elbowed out by the steadfast local, seemed indicated by Gerry’s cheerfulness despite the former’s absence. Prudence smiled and handed Doug another slice of beef.

  Gerry looked at him. She warmed as she remembered how, after J-L had skied off with Sharp and Harriet—Harriet giving little longing looks of adoration at Gerry over her shoulder—Doug had grasped one of her hands, tucked it in his pocket and strode down the hill, her snowshoes under his arm. He hadn’t said much but the action was enough.

  Cece was receiving his own share of fond looks. Having refused to go to hospital, he’d made the first entrance, long before Doug and Gerry, leaning on a police officer in a snowmobile suit, and reassuring everyone that, yes, he was fine, just a sprain, and yes, Gerry and Doug were also fine and hadn’t they better heat up the birthday girl’s supper so it was ready when she arrived?

  Bea was leaning against him. “Don’t worry, dear,” she reassured. “It will be my pleasure to wait on you for a change.”

  “Just need a pair of crutches and a pressure bandage,” he replied gruffly.

  Gerry took up the tale again. “There was never any danger. J-L knew he had his man as soon as Mrs. Shrike described him.”

  “But Doug didn’t know that before,” Prudence said quietly. “I think he was very brave.”

  “To Doug!” Cece toasted.

  “To Doug!” everyone agreed.

  “And to the birthday girl,” Cece added.

  “To Gerry!” all agreed.

  “When do I get my presents?” she plaintively asked.

  “After dessert,” Prudence said severely, clearing away the dirty dishes. Cathy rose to help her.

  “I wish Andrew could have been here,” Gerry remarked idly.

  “Oh. I heard from Markie today,” Cathy replied. “They’re having a wonderful time. And Andrew is coming back at the end of February.”

  “Well, I wish they could both be here,” Gerry said, smiling at Cathy, who she knew missed her sister.

  “Markie hinted they may both be here sooner than you think,” Cathy said.

  “Ooh!” crowed Bea. “More romance in the air.”

  Gerry sipped her wine and ventured a glance at Doug. He was frowning down at the table. “I don’t see that there’s any proof the police officer murdered the man in the woods or Mr. Shrike,” he said.

  Gerry shrugged. “Maybe J-L has evidence we don’t know about. Or maybe Mrs. Shrike does. She knows he would meet her husband at the empty house. She can certainly link him to drug trafficking. That should be enough to put him away for a long, long time. Oh!”

  Cathy had quietly been setting each place with a fresh plate, fork and spoon. Now Prudence had entered with a tiered pink cake plate on which were arranged many chocolate cupcakes, each with its own lit candle. This she set down in front of Gerry. A tub of ice cream and a can of whipped cream flanked the display.

  “A cupcake tower!” said Bea, triumphantly. “I was just about to construct it when you showed up for lunch!”

  “Was that today?” Gerry asked in an awe-struck voice. “I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime since then. Thank you so much. I’ve always wanted a cupcake tower.”

  “Of course you have. Now quit the chatting and serve them up!” Bea suggested.

  “Make a wish!” David and Judith spoke simultaneously, looked at each other and laughed.

  “Only twenty-seven candles,” Blaise said. “Imagine being only twenty-seven!”

  “One is for good luck,” Bea explained. “Gerry’s only twenty-six.”

  “Not yet,” said Gerry, counting on her fingers as she energetically shook the whipped cream. “I’m twenty-five for another five days.”

  After she’d plopped a cupcake, a spoon of ice cream and a spurt of whipped cream on each plate, the presents appeared. First Prudence pushed a squishy package at her. “For your outdoor adventures.” A grey scarf with little cream pairs of crossed snowshoes on it was revealed.

  “Oh, Prudence! You are clever! Thank you!”

  From David was a print he’d made at school; five kittens playing on a rug. Gerry beamed “Lovely. I wonder where I’ll hang it.” David looked gratified.

  Judith had bought three bars of homemade soap from a shop in the village: lavender, calendula-lemon and pine-scented. Blaise gave her a book of his poems; Doug two tickets to see a play at the local theatre. Cathy had made almond and apricot biscotti, dipped one end of each in dark chocolate and presented them in a large glass jar. The card read “With love from Cathy and Prince Charles.” And Cece and Bea had gotten her two tickets to the same show as Doug had.

  Bea removed the tickets after Gerry opened the envelope. “Never mind. I’ll get you something else.”

  “How about an orchid?” Gerry requested.

  “Done.”

  The friends dispersed around the house. Cathy and Prudence first cleared away the dessert dishes, then tidied the kitchen. Gerry, wandering from room to room, heard them laughing and Cathy say “you win!” and wondered what that was about.

  She saw Blaise, asleep in a chair by the fire, and Judith, sitting in the chair next to him with Min Min on her lap. David, seated on the hearthrug, appeared to be sketching the scene. Mother, with Jay tucked close, dozed on the hearthrug near David.

  The fire blazed cheerily. Other cats relaxed near the hearth. Bob, asleep on the mantel, opened one eye as Gerry chucked him under the chin. “I’ll save you a nice bit of beef for later,” she whispered, not knowing he’d already sampled it. He blinked one eye, as if to say, “knew I could count on you,” and went back to sleep.

  Gerry moved into the dining room where Cece and Bea, side by side, had propped their feet on a couple of chairs. Cats had drifted back into “their” room and retaken possession of the other dining chairs. Gerry drifted among them. “Hello, Cocoon. Hello, Harley. Hello, Max.”

  Cece and Bea each had a glass of wine and were toasting each other. Of course! Valentine’s Day! And they’d chosen to spend it with her. Her throat ached (but whether for fondness of them or recognition of her own need, who’s to say?) and she left them to it, closing the dining room door behind her.

  She moved into the darkness of the large foyer and sat on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. She wished—

 
“Gerry?” Doug let himself in from the back porch. He had fetched a bucket of firewood and a cold draft accompanied him. Gerry shivered. He put down the bucket and sat next to her. “Want me to get you your lovely new scarf?”

  “No.” She leaned and he took the hint, putting one arm around her.

  “Gerry, I—”

  “No,” she repeated. “I know you have three sons. I know they’re at a delicate age. I know you feel extra responsible for them because Uncle Geoff is gone and Margaret is—” She let the image of Doug’s violent ex-wife dangle in the air. “I know only David likes me and I’d have to work to get James and Geoff Jr. to approve.” His silence suddenly made her horribly afraid. “Or have I got it wrong?”

  “Gerry—” A knock at the front door bewildered them both. They froze. The knock was repeated. “Damn!” Doug said, got up and let Jean-Louis in.

  Jean-Louis gave him a brief look. “Hi.” He turned to Gerry. “Gerry! I have to go back to the station but I wanted to drop off your gifts.” Doug picked up the bucket of firewood and left the foyer. Gerry stood on the stairs.

  “Finally, you’re as tall as me,” J-L joked and kissed her. He stepped back and handed her two packages.

  Gerry held the gifts. “Come. Come through and meet the friends.” She took him through the dining room, empty now except for cats, and into the living room where everyone was assembled. “Look,” she said. “More presents.”

  Cathy brought J-L a slice of the Wellington, which he wolfed appreciatively. “Marry me!” he exclaimed and gave her a hug. Cathy looked like she wished he was serious.

  Gerry opened the first gift—a bottle of red wine. “That was a fun night, eh, Gerry?” J-L said boisterously. “And, in memory of it—” She unwrapped the second flat object and stared, puzzled by it.

  “A pizza stone!” exclaimed Cathy. “What a great present, Jean-Louis! I’ll show you how to use it, Gerry.”

  Everyone else, who knew Gerry’s penchant for take-out, ordering in, or just opening a can, instead of actually cooking a meal, smiled and agreed that it was, indeed, a great gift.

  “Maybe Jean-Louis knows how to use a pizza stone,” said Doug blandly.

  J-L looked kindly at the older man. “Ah, but I’ll be back in my home town this time tomorrow. Not that I won’t have to return to testify in the future.” He added, a trifle maliciously, “And court cases can drag on for years.”

  “Well, thank you very much for the gifts. And for showing me how to cross-country ski, especially how to go uphill.” She kissed him on both cheeks.

  The guests seemed to feel this was the signal to leave. Cathy helped Blaise with his coat, preparatory to accompanying him home.

  “I’ll give you a lift,” Gerry said to Prudence.

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Cathy snorted. “It’s your party. I’ll be back soon and I’ll take her. I haven’t had a drink since seven-thirty,” she added with a look in J-L’s direction.

  “And we’ll get these two home,” Doug said, indicating Cece and Bea. “David, you follow me in our car and I’ll drive Cece’s.” And then, in front of everyone, he kissed Gerry quickly on the lips.

  Judith left in her own vehicle. Jean-Louis walked back to his house after helping Cece and Bea into their car. Quicker than she would have thought possible, Gerry was alone with Prudence.

  “Well,” her friend said primly, “you have been going at it.”

  “You don’t even know,” Gerry said, her cheeks flushed, and helped herself to another cupcake with extra cream. “You don’t even know.”

  Prudence smiled. “Tell me on Monday.”

  Defiance licked his chops appreciatively. This pastry and meat combination was really rather clever.

  He jumped down off the coffee table and sniffed the old man’s leg. Motionless. The gentle snoring told him his friend had drifted off after their early supper. The frequency of the old man’s naps led the sleek grey cat to suspect his friend might be turning into a cat. Any time was a good time for a nap. He was tempted to join him.

  Instead he walked down the central hallway to the kitchen. He sniffed. The terrible smell was dissipating. Hours ago, his friend had switched on the oven at an extremely high heat and retreated into the living room with their supper, muttering, “There. That hasn’t been done in years.”

  The terrible smell accompanied by acrid black smoke had ensued, and the old man had opened the sliding glass door in the kitchen, just a crack. It was this crack that Defiance was now inspecting.

  The outside air wafting in smelled delicious. It had been a warmer day than usual, it seemed, and he could smell birds, trees and the cold tang of melting snow. He put his head into the crack and pushed. Nothing.

  He turned and used a shoulder. Ow. That hurt his side. But he was determined. He stepped into the crack with one paw and pushed again. The door-window thing slid. He repeated the effort until he could fit his head. If his head fit, so would the rest of him. He pushed through, wincing as his scar pressed on the frame.

  He knew he was forbidden to go outside—the old man was killing him with kindness—but therein lay the charm of it—being defiant.

  He stepped onto the cool wet surface of his back patio and lifted his muzzle. No sour musky smell. He’d beat a swift retreat if he ever caught a whiff of that again. Perhaps the hunter had migrated. But there were always going to be others. He’d not relax his vigilance.

  He padded the short distance to the gazebo where the old man liked to sit in summer, where they had in fact made their first real acquaintance. After the old woman had died and the new young one arrived to take her place. After he, Defiance, realized he could never fully relax with all those other cats around.

  He looked towards the house of many cats. He might as well stroll over there, see if anyone he knew might be in a window.

  He lowered himself under the gate and slowly walked the snowy path. Really, those women had been remiss. They hadn’t shovelled for days. How was he supposed—

  He froze, looking toward the house. His arch-enemy, the one the girl called Bob, the one who was now Top Cat since the old female calico had died, was curled up next to a lakeside window. He appeared to be sleeping.

  Defiance crouched, his tail thrashing, then made a dash for the stone path, partially cleared, which paralleled the back wall of The Maples. In one fluid motion he leapt up into the window box and found himself in a miniature forest of cedar boughs someone had stuck into its soil. Good camouflage.

  He crept slowly onto the window ledge, stretched up to his full length and tapped on the glass.

  Hah! That had gotten a reaction. Bob, startled by activity coming from an unexpected direction, sat up and puffed his fur.

  Defiance sat down, satisfied, and groomed his shoulder as Bob, meowing, agitated back and forth on the table on the other side of the glass.

  Defiance groomed his crotch. Some of us, he seemed to indicate, are free to go out.

  He crouched among the cedar boughs as he heard the young woman’s voice say, “There’s nothing there, Bob. Stop it! You’re disturbing my papers!” She began to pull the curtains.

  But as she did, he heard another voice, a man’s, low and laughing, and saw the man who cut the grass in summer fold the girl in an embrace. The black and white cat sat and stared at Defiance, baffled.

  Mission accomplished, Defiance leapt from the window box. He walked onto the parking pad, sat under the car and gazed at the empty house next door. His curiosity got the better of him and he jumped off the pad and into fairly deep snow.

  The cold startled him. He breathed deeply a few times, which made his side hurt, but enabled him to bear the coldness. Hopping (like a wretched squirrel, he thought disgustedly), he made it to the thicket. The roughness and prickle of burr and thorn hurt his scar but he eased through and paused again, surveying the long low white house.

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bsp; A tree creaked. Then another. He sniffed tiny footprints. Mice out foraging. He was tempted to follow the little tunnels they left on the surface of the snow. A mouse might be nice right about now. Then he heard a plaintive mew coming from the back of the house.

  He approached cautiously. Something shifted at the level of the foundation. It moved only slightly and he strolled over to confront it.

  The small female, black with white legs, was in a bad way. She was huddled into herself, shivering, and her eyes, gummy with discharge, barely opened to slits when she became aware of his presence. She crouched close to a small piece of wood that had been affixed low down to the house’s wall.

  He came close, and when she didn’t react, sat at her side. Too bad she didn’t have a cozy home with good food to which she could retreat. He sensed she didn’t have long and an unfamiliar feeling entered him.

  He left her and ran around to the side window. Why hadn’t she gone in that way? Too weak? He jumped up onto the sill and pawed at the plywood there. Where before it had been absent or leaning, it now appeared to be firmly in place. Maybe she’d had another way in and that had also been blocked. He jumped back down and returned to the little cat. He would keep her company as she died.

  He must have dozed off because he woke to find the other cat half underneath him. She seemed warmer and had ceased shivering. But what had woken him?

  He blinked at the flickering lights reflected on the snow. Oh, that. He wasn’t surprised when he heard first the window on the second storey above them slide up and then the child’s laughter.

  But tonight the child was more crying than laughing. It was annoying. It made the little female wake. She mewed.

  Defiance sat up and looked across the icy surface of the lake. A mist was forming, coming closer. Low to the ice it swirled, elongated until it took the shape of a woman holding a misty baby. She swept over the ice onto the lawn and close to the two cats.

  The cats’ fur stood on end and both of them bristled, ears close to the skull, teeth bared.