Cat Pay the Devil by Shirley Rousseau Murphy Page A

parking in front of a low white house. Three men dressed in gray jump-suits got out. Moved in between the houses, one after another, as if checking the meters or connections. Men who, in Greeley’s opinion, got to work too fast for city employees.
    Well, he’d just arrived in town recently, he’d gone to school with Cage. He could come to the house if he liked, maybe come to see Lilly, see how Cage was doing. What business was that of Harper’s?
    Mounting the steps, he rang the bell, stood listening for sounds from within, for the shuffle of feet approaching, for Lilly’s slow, deliberate movement. Cage’s sister’d never liked him much, even when they was kids in grammar school, him and Mavity and Cage—and that Wilma Getz. Lilly was some older, in high school then. Tall, bone thin, dry as dust even when she was young.
    The door creaked open, and Lilly Jones stood there tall and plain and wearing the kind of shapeless cotton dress his own mother had called a housedress; Lilly was more dried up and skinnier than ever.
    â€œEvening, Lilly. It’s me, Greeley Urzey. Heard Cage was out of prison and I come over to visit.”
    Lilly looked at him like she might look at a frog skewered on a stick. “Cage isn’t here. I don’t know where he is. What did you want?”
    â€œLike I said, to visit. Been a while since I seen Cage.”Greeley gave her what he considered a winning smile. “You going to ask me in? It’s been a long time, Lilly. It’s hot out, I’d sure enjoy a drink of water. It sure is mighty hot, even this time of evening. Water, or that good lemonade you make. You always made the best lemonade, back when we was kids.”
    Lilly looked resigned or too tired to argue. She backed away from the door, motioned him in, pointed to the couch. The woman wasn’t big on graciousness. But then Greeley guessed maybe he wasn’t so smooth, either, in the manners department. Mavity said that often enough. But what the hell difference, anyway?
    â€œI can make you some frozen lemonade,” Lilly said shortly. “That’s the best I can do. There are some magazines there on the table. But he isn’t here, Greeley. And he won’t be.”
    This, Greeley thought, was going to take a while. She’d kill time in the kitchen fiddling with the lemonade, and then the long process of drinking the sour stuff and trying to draw her out. He glanced around the tired-looking, faded room figuring out just what questions to ask her, how best to pull this off. Old woman was prickly as a cactus. Looked like she hadn’t changed a stick of furniture in the room since he and Cage was kids slipping up the stairs to Cage’s room and locking the door behind them.
    When Lilly finally returned with the lemonade and handed him a glass and sat down, he took his time sipping and smacking, telling her how good it was. She looked at him coldly.
    â€œWhat did you come for, Greeley?”
    â€œCage didn’t call you? Well, he figured he might not be able to, said he’d try. He needs some clothes and things, plans to…be gone awhile. He’s out, you know.”
    â€œI thought you hadn’t seen him.”
    â€œWell, he told me to be careful what I said. Until I saw you was alone, saw that the cops wasn’t here.”
    â€œHiding from the law again,” Lilly said dryly, not seeming at all curious about why or how Cage was out on the streets.
    â€œWell, yes, ma’am. He didn’t have no clothes, and—”
    â€œHe can buy clothes.”
    â€œHe told me to come on down to the house, told me to check his closet, pretty much told me which ones to get. And his razor and toothbrush, like that…”
    â€œSurely he has money to buy what he wants.”
    â€œI guess he doesn’t want to be seen just now,” Greeley said diffidently.
    â€œI should think not. He almost killed a man today.”
    That shook