Chapter 16

She pushed her bike down the hallway to the back entrance of the building and carried her nearly weight-less carbon-framed bike down the narrow steps. Once on the ground, she slipped on her cleats and threw a leg over the bike. She stepped into the first pedal, clipped in, and pedaled down the alley, clipping the other foot in before anyone could stop her.

It felt good to push herself further, faster than she’d gone or done before. She let her anger drive her on. Telling herself that she was in charge of herself, that she could bring her body into submission, she pedaled faster and stood to pump as she climbed a steep hill. She felt the sweat pouring off her head, running in little rivers down her temple to her ears. The cool fall day was perfect for cycling, and she felt the rhythm of the bike and her breathing sync.

Her thighs were burning as she topped another hill and sat to pedal. She pulled the cold water into her mouth from the water bottle. She slid it back into its aluminum holder and wiped her nose with her jacket sleeve. She didn’t realize she was crying until her blurry vision finally made her stop. Her nose continued to run and her eyes burned from the mixture of sunscreen and tears. She cried and rode, prayed and rode and rode some more. Two hours and thirty miles later, she returned to find Sullivan and her mother gone and her Dad on the couch, watching TV.

“Your mother has gone to get some things. We aren’t giving you a choice. We are staying.”

She sighed as she leaned her bike against the wall in the living room, dropped her helmet and cleats by it and walked to the bathroom. Phillip could hear the water turn on in the shower and heard her jerk the shower curtain closed. He sighed and flipped through the channels on the TV, thinking about an afternoon nap.

When Cat emerged from the bathroom an hour later, she was dressed. Her hair had been washed and dried, but was pulled back into a ponytail. She had let little wisps of hair escape and they curled in ringlets near the nape of her neck. She had carefully applied mascara and eye shadow and used a dark raisin-red color on her lips.

She looked stunning, Linda thought, as she stirred sugar into a pitcher of tea. Linda had made lunch and set the table. She called Cat to join them, and the three of them sat around the dark oak table. Phillip held his hands out for his girls who took them and bowed their heads. As Phillip prayed for God’s blessings on their food, family and lives, he thanked God for the life of the precious little dog that had brought such joy to their lives for so many years. He asked for healing for Hannah, protection for Cat and their family and asked that the person responsible be caught quickly.

They ate their lunch in silence until the phone on the wall rang. Cat got up and crossed to it. She picked up the receiver and said hello. She didn’t say anything else for several sec-onds and then said hello again several times and finally hung up the phone. She had just gotten seated again and had picked up her sandwich when the phone rang again. She got up, made her way to it, picked it up and repeated the process of saying hello, getting no answer and then finally hanging up. She shrugged her shoulders and walked back to her seat.

“That’s aggravating,” she complained as she sat back down.

She placed her napkin across her lap and had lifted her tea glass to her lips when the phone rang for the third time.

“I wonder who that is?”

She sounded nervous, even to herself, as she walked quickly to the phone. “Hello?” When she got no answer, she slammed down the phone and stood there with her back to her parents. She felt how fast her heart was beating. She tried to breathe deeply to calm herself. He was terrorizing her. Whoever had broken in to her apartment and tried to kill her dog was now screwing with her head. She wondered who it could be. Rick? Warren? Or maybe someone from her past that she couldn’t recall. How could anyone try to kill Han-nah? Before last night and the incident with Rick, Warren would be the only person she would suspect. He was so mean sometimes. But she hadn’t seen him or talked to him. Why would he start attacking her now? What had changed with Rick? He wasn’t acting like himself either. He had always acted like he hated her, but now he was more venomous. His steely glare last night and those clammy hands he pawed at her with had made her feel nauseous. Who would do this, she wondered, and why?

“What did the caller ID show, Cat?” Phillip asked.

He stopped eating and dropped his napkin in his seat as he walked over to where Cat still stood with her back to them. “Honey, who was it? Do you know?”

Cat didn’t answer, just shook her head no. Phillip put a hand on her shoulder and she turned into him. She wouldn’t cry. She had to be strong. She couldn’t cry now, not with all this war paint on her face. A single tear escaped her defenses and slid down her cheek. She silently cussed it as it trekked southward across her face. She swiped at it angrily with her napkin and stepped away from her dad.

“The number says it’s unavailable.”

She and her dad walked back to the table and sat down when the phone rang again. This time Phillip beat her to the phone. He didn’t say anything until someone on the other end spoke.

“Hello?” A male voice said. “Cat, is that you?”

Phillip relaxed a little as he spoke, “Just a moment, I’ll get her for you. May I ask who’s calling?”

Hearing a young man clear his voice on the other end of the line before he spoke again, Phillip waved for Cat to come to the phone.

“Yes, Sir, this is Pat Gilbraithe from the Sooner Broad-casting Network.” Phillip covered the receiver with his large palm, “It’s Pat from the radio station.”

Cat reached for the phone. She listened as Pat described what was going on at the station. It wasn’t a surprise that Rick had lied about what had happened the night before. But it was a surprise that the station manager hadn’t even cared about her side of the story. Based solely on Rick’s version, he had pulled Rick off of her show and placed Pat in his place.

“Won’t it be great?” Pat was saying. He clearly was thrilled to get the opportunity to produce the live show. He didn’t realize like Cat did, that there were larger implications to the move. Cat tried to think positively, though, and agreed with Pat that the show was going to be smoother with Rick out of the way.

“When do you start?” Cat asked.

She looked at her parents and tried a small smile. It felt unnatural, so she stopped.

“Today, can you believe it?” Pat replied.

He told her he would see her at the station in a little while and hung up.

“Well, that was interesting. Looks like Mr. Davidson replaced Rick with Pat for my show,” Cat said as she plopped back into her chair.

“That sounds like good news. But since you don’t seem happy, I am perplexed,” Linda said with a frown. “You don’t want to be around Rick anymore, right?” Linda asked as she looked into Cat’s troubled eyes.

After a short pause, Cat continued. “No, I don’t. But Mr. Davidson wouldn’t have moved Rick off the show unless he said something to him. Mr. Davidson is likely to believe anything Rick said to him without giving me a chance to explain. It doesn’t feel like a good thing, but I guess I’ll have to wait until I get there to know for sure.”

She picked up her sandwich and tried to eat it, but her appetite was gone. After clearing the table and enjoying a cup of coffee, they discussed alternate living arraignments.

“How about if I go stay with Susan when I get off work tonight?” Cat suggested. “I called Susan a little while ago to tell her what was going on. She asked me to stay with her. She reminded me that she only lives a few blocks from the station, and she said she would come meet me after work so I wouldn’t have to leave alone.”

Her parents looked uncertain as they exchanged glances. It wasn’t fair to ask them to spend the entire evening there when she wasn’t even going to be home. Since Hannah was gone…Hannah was gone! It hit Cat like a punch in the stomach. Hannah might never be coming back. Hannah might never sleep with her again or nuzzle her little nose in Cat’s hair or wiggle her little body uncontrollably when Cat entered a room.

“I have to get out of here,” Cat choked as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “Please go home. I’m going to stay with Susan tonight. I’ll call you when I get to her house.”