Part 16 (1/2)

”What?” I said. ”Ten minutes ago you run away from me, then you jump through a window to hide, find yourself trapped, and decide maybe I'm not so bad after all? I should leave you down there.”

He yowled louder.

”Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.

I looked around. One shutter near the front of the house had come unfastened and tapped in the breeze. I walked over, opened it, and stood on tiptoes to peer into the house.

The room was as empty as the bas.e.m.e.nt.

The owners hadn't just left for a while. No one lived here. I stepped back for a better look. The house was in excellent shape for its age. Well tended, too. How could a place like this sit empty without even a For Sale sign on the lawn?

Not my concern, really. What mattered was that it was empty and my d.a.m.ned cat was trapped in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

I went around to the back door. While I had no issue with breaking into an empty house for good cause, I sure as h.e.l.l wasn't doing it from the front.

The backyard was at least a half acre-cla.s.sic Victorian garden, with gra.s.s replaced by cobblestone walks and flowerbeds. There was an empty fishpond, too, with a fountain. Moss and ivy covered fantastical statuary-fairies and green men, mermaids and fauns. Cleaned up and filled in, it would be a showpiece. Right now, it had a desolate, almost haunting air, and I paused there, feeling the tug of it, inviting me to wander in the twilight. Lovely thought, if my d.a.m.ned cat wasn't still yowling.

I went through a walled patio and tried the back door. Unlocked. Not surprising. I was the only person in town with a security system, or so Grace had muttered when I explained to her how it worked.

I eased open the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

The house was so silent even my breathing seemed to echo through the empty rooms. TC had stopped yowling, as if knowing rescue was imminent. I stepped slowly into the kitchen as my eyes adjusted to the near dark.

No appliances. Bare counters covered in a layer of dust. Leaded-gla.s.s doors on the cupboards showed they were equally bare.

The bas.e.m.e.nt door was right there, in the kitchen. I took out my gun before opening it. Yes, I carried a gun jogging. Gabriel had bought me a holster and insisted on it after I found Ciara in my car. I was happy for it now. I didn't care if the house was obviously empty-I wasn't venturing unarmed into the pitch-black bas.e.m.e.nt of an abandoned house chasing my missing cat. That screams slasher flick.

I called TC from the top of the stairs. He responded with a cry, but it was m.u.f.fled, as if there was a door between us. I took it slow going down the stairs, ignoring his increasingly frantic yowls.

”I'm coming, I'm coming,” I called. ”Remind me again why I wanted you back? d.a.m.n cat.”

The bas.e.m.e.nt opened into a large room with several closed doors. It was as still as the main floor. I cast my mock flashlight around and saw more of what I'd spotted through the window. Dirt floor. Bare walls.

TC scratched at one of the closed doors. When I opened it, he darted out. I bent to pet him. As soon as I touched his side, I stopped. I could feel his ribs. His fur was matted and bedraggled.

Had he been trapped-?

No, I'd seen him outside. He must have just had a hard time on the streets.

A hard time on the streets of Cainsville? This wasn't Englewood. He hadn't been in this condition when he first adopted me. Thin, yes. Fleas, yes. But basically fine.

I pushed the door open farther and hit the light switch. Nothing happened. The power was off. I could see a puddle under the window, as if rain had come in. It hadn't rained since Sat.u.r.day night. There were mice, too, or what remained of them. Food and water.

”You were trapped down here,” I said. ”That wasn't you I saw.”

Yet it had been, in a way. An omen that had led me to him. When I bent, he rubbed against me and lifted onto his hind legs. I gingerly picked him up, expecting him to leap down-we didn't have a cuddly-kitty relations.h.i.+p. He settled into my arms and purred.

”That happy to see me, huh?” I said. ”Something tells me you won't take off for a jaunt anytime soon.” I settled him in my arms. ”Let's get you home. I think I've got a can of tuna in the cupboard.”

He purred louder. I carried him up the stairs, talking to him, reaching out to push open the door, and- My hand hit the solid door. Okay, apparently I'd shut it when I came down. That was an old habit from living at home, where my mother would get so fl.u.s.tered over an open bas.e.m.e.nt door, you'd think hordes of bats and spiders were preparing to launch an a.s.sault.

I reached for the handle. It turned easily. I pushed. Nothing happened. I pushed harder. Still nothing.

The door was sticking. Old houses. Swollen wood. Whatever. I put TC down, twisted the handle, and rammed my shoulder against it. Pain shot though my shoulder. The door didn't budge. I shone the light in the crack between the door and the frame, then turned the handle and watched the bolt disengage. I ran the light up and down, but there was no sign of anything else holding it closed.

”No need to panic,” I told the cat, who was placidly cleaning his ears. ”There's no one here, so we haven't been locked in the bas.e.m.e.nt. We're just stuck. Temporarily.”

He meowed and trotted back down the stairs.

”Good idea,” I said. ”Search for an alternate exit.”

I had just reached the bottom of the steps when my phone rang. Gabriel.

”What's up?” I said as casually as I could for someone trapped in the bas.e.m.e.nt of an abandoned house.

”I need information from the Meade file. You took it, correct?”

”Right. You asked me to have a look-”

”Yes, I know. But I need witness contact information from it. Are you at home?”

I looked around. ”Not exactly.”

”It's rather urgent. A new development in the case, and I have to check with the witness before the prosecution does. If you aren't close by, I'll need to go out to your apartment.”

”I have a security system now and updated locks.”

”Then I'll take the code. You can change it after.”

That didn't cover the updated locks, which he presumably could still pick. h.e.l.l, I was sure he could disarm the alarm, too-he was just pretending otherwise to make me feel secure.

”I'm close to home,” I said as I walked across the bas.e.m.e.nt, looking for doors or large windows. ”Just give me-”

The cat yowled.

”Is that TC?” Gabriel said.

”It is. I found him.”

A louder yowl as the cat called my attention to something. I hurried toward him. It was a dead mouse. Lovely. He kept yowling even when I patted his head.

”He doesn't sound very happy, Olivia,” Gabriel said.

”I know. He wants to get home.”