water in a bit of drainpipe. Before she went back to her digging, she called again to the little white kitten.
There was no answer from the cellar. Nothing stirred in the foam nest of the Ford seat.
The waiting was near over.
Time was up.
The boys at the bar already had their drinks in hand by the time Reddick arrived.
“I’ll wait till midnight,” Joe Close was saying. “I’m bringing Johnny along. He can watch his pa bust those pests. I might even let the boy take a shot of his own. I bought him an air gun, a real little beauty, for Christmas. Took him down to Lucky’s Range a few times. The boy’s set to go.”
The man with the red face ordered a second beer. “There’s a rumor that the mayor’s getting cold feet,” he griped. “My bet is he’ll pull the roundup afore it starts. Maybe I’ll give you and your boy a hand at the chapel. Show you a trick or two. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
The men all shifted to let Billy’s dad fit at the table. “Hey, Walt,” said the man with the red face. “I heard you had a bad moment on the old chapel house roof today. Glad to see you’re all right. A bit of cat-hunting might lighten your mind.”
Reddick chugged back his brew. “Gayle, I’ve already put the day behind me. As for your hunting plans tonight, that’s asking for trouble. The press is nosing around. We don’t want the town to get a bad name.”
The men guffawed. “Walter, that’s the first time I ever heard you care what anyone thought,” one of them joked. “Next thing you know, you’ll be siding with the strays.”
Reddick didn’t answer. The beer tasted like sawdust. Curse that cat. He took a long, dry swallow and shoved his chair back. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “The way I see it, the cats —”
He didn’t get any further. The bartender pointed to the screen over the bar. “Looks like the cats got a reprieve,” he declared. “Roundup’s cancelled.”
Joe Close slammed his fist on the table. “The mayor’s a wimp,” he declared. “And my mind’s made up.” He looked Reddick in the eye. “The old chapel’s crawling with feral cats. My boy and I are hunting cat tonight. I don’t want to hear any more lax talk.” He walked out.
Reddick watched him. He let the conversation swirl around him as he reviewed his day. The house he was shingling backed onto the chapel yard. Maybe that fool cat sheltered there. The more Walt thought about that, the more he faced what he had to do. He stood up andslapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “I think I’ll call it an early night,” he said. “You boys have another round on me.”
As soon as the pub door slammed shut, Reddick turned toward the chapel alley. He’d take a shot at finding the cat ahead of Joe and his boy.
He had a debt to pay.
Time was up.
TWENTY-FOUR
D own in the yard, the cats took their night stations. The three copycats climbed into the low branches of the mulberry tree. Mac and Cheese hunkered down between the rafters of the stable roof next to Nosey Parker. And Scat shredded the manger scraps into a cloud woolly enough to fill the space left by a gun already claimed.
On top of his castle of crates, the gray tom scanned the alley. The moon turned his coat into silver armor. When the boy and the man showed up, he eased into the shadows.
“There!” said the boy. He pointed to the crates. “There’s a cat up there. It’s a big one. Got eyes like slick ice. Get it, Dad!”
“Easy as pie.” Joe Close nodded. “You get over toward the old stable, away from the mulberry tree. I’ll back up a bit the other way. We’ll coax that brute into the open.” Hehanded his son the gun, and reached into his pocket for the shot. “Load her up. Keep the cat in your sight.”
“Now hold on, Joe.” The quiet warning sliced through the dark yard. Walter Reddick stepped into the moonlight. He stood with his back to the alley, his hands up.
Johnny’s father spun around.
There was no answer from the cellar. Nothing stirred in the foam nest of the Ford seat.
The waiting was near over.
Time was up.
The boys at the bar already had their drinks in hand by the time Reddick arrived.
“I’ll wait till midnight,” Joe Close was saying. “I’m bringing Johnny along. He can watch his pa bust those pests. I might even let the boy take a shot of his own. I bought him an air gun, a real little beauty, for Christmas. Took him down to Lucky’s Range a few times. The boy’s set to go.”
The man with the red face ordered a second beer. “There’s a rumor that the mayor’s getting cold feet,” he griped. “My bet is he’ll pull the roundup afore it starts. Maybe I’ll give you and your boy a hand at the chapel. Show you a trick or two. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
The men all shifted to let Billy’s dad fit at the table. “Hey, Walt,” said the man with the red face. “I heard you had a bad moment on the old chapel house roof today. Glad to see you’re all right. A bit of cat-hunting might lighten your mind.”
Reddick chugged back his brew. “Gayle, I’ve already put the day behind me. As for your hunting plans tonight, that’s asking for trouble. The press is nosing around. We don’t want the town to get a bad name.”
The men guffawed. “Walter, that’s the first time I ever heard you care what anyone thought,” one of them joked. “Next thing you know, you’ll be siding with the strays.”
Reddick didn’t answer. The beer tasted like sawdust. Curse that cat. He took a long, dry swallow and shoved his chair back. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “The way I see it, the cats —”
He didn’t get any further. The bartender pointed to the screen over the bar. “Looks like the cats got a reprieve,” he declared. “Roundup’s cancelled.”
Joe Close slammed his fist on the table. “The mayor’s a wimp,” he declared. “And my mind’s made up.” He looked Reddick in the eye. “The old chapel’s crawling with feral cats. My boy and I are hunting cat tonight. I don’t want to hear any more lax talk.” He walked out.
Reddick watched him. He let the conversation swirl around him as he reviewed his day. The house he was shingling backed onto the chapel yard. Maybe that fool cat sheltered there. The more Walt thought about that, the more he faced what he had to do. He stood up andslapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “I think I’ll call it an early night,” he said. “You boys have another round on me.”
As soon as the pub door slammed shut, Reddick turned toward the chapel alley. He’d take a shot at finding the cat ahead of Joe and his boy.
He had a debt to pay.
Time was up.
TWENTY-FOUR
D own in the yard, the cats took their night stations. The three copycats climbed into the low branches of the mulberry tree. Mac and Cheese hunkered down between the rafters of the stable roof next to Nosey Parker. And Scat shredded the manger scraps into a cloud woolly enough to fill the space left by a gun already claimed.
On top of his castle of crates, the gray tom scanned the alley. The moon turned his coat into silver armor. When the boy and the man showed up, he eased into the shadows.
“There!” said the boy. He pointed to the crates. “There’s a cat up there. It’s a big one. Got eyes like slick ice. Get it, Dad!”
“Easy as pie.” Joe Close nodded. “You get over toward the old stable, away from the mulberry tree. I’ll back up a bit the other way. We’ll coax that brute into the open.” Hehanded his son the gun, and reached into his pocket for the shot. “Load her up. Keep the cat in your sight.”
“Now hold on, Joe.” The quiet warning sliced through the dark yard. Walter Reddick stepped into the moonlight. He stood with his back to the alley, his hands up.
Johnny’s father spun around.
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