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SHADOW’S FUR BRISTLED with alarm when first Karma then September ran into the bathroom. She gave him the hand signal to wait, so he hung back, quivering with tension. He sat on September’s bed next to Macy. The cat leaned against Shadow’s neck, cheek-rubbing him, but that didn’t calm him down.
“I’m okay, I’m fine. Just lost my balance.” Tee’s angry voice preceded her stumble out of the bathroom, clearly resenting September’s support. “Long day, that’s all. I’m fine. Don’t fuss.” She drew the damp towel more closely around her form.
Shadow stretched his neck to nose-touch Karma, but she ignored him, and took her place with Tee on the other bed.
September settled next to Shadow. He leaned against her. Her gentle hand on his shoulders immediately made him feel better. He could read her concern for the smaller woman, but she felt fine. Her calm voice kept him steady.
“How long have you had that rash? And the headaches?”
Tee shrugged. Karma whined and set her broad head across the woman’s lap. “Doesn’t itch or anything. Comes and goes. Guess I first noticed it back in the fall.”
September’s brow wrinkled, and Shadow nose-poked her to make the lines go away. He wished they’d stop talking and turn out the lights so a good-dog could sleep. A nap always made everything better. His tail thumped at the idea.
But the two kept talking and talking. Finally, Shadow hopped off the bed and trotted to the bedside table. Neither woman paid any attention, but Macy watched with interest. Sometimes, a dog knew best and had to decide for people. Shadow reached forward with his nose, found the button, and pressed down with his chin until the lights switched off.
Tee shouted with surprised delight. “Did you train him to do that?”
Laughing, September beckoned for Shadow to rejoin her on the bed. “He learned it from Macy. A hint, I think. Right, baby-dog?”
Shadow waited until Macy curled into the curve behind September’s knees, and then took his own place snugged tight against her other side. Karma’s quiet breathing morphed into soft snores, synchronized with Tee’s breathing.
But he couldn’t relax. September remained stiff, pretending to sleep. When she finally stirred hours later, and quietly rose from the bed, he whined with concern until she put a finger to her lips. She quickly dressed, scribbled something on paper by the bedside lights, and fit Macy with his tracking vest before placing the cat into his carrier.
Whines came in earnest. Shadow paw-danced despite himself when September cracked the door and they stepped into the hallway. He knew what the cat’s tracking vest meant. His own gear lived in the car. He loved following scent to find the lost. Shadow couldn’t wait to wear his own tracking harness.
“Stay with me, baby-dog. Don’t wake Tee. She’s so stubborn, but not invincible.” September’s worry filled her voice, even though Shadow didn’t understand half the words. That didn’t matter, as long as they stayed together. And he’d get to play his favorite tracking game again.
Once in the car, Shadow puffed his breath against the rear window, making nose smears on the glass. September turned up the heat, so the chill left the car. He hadn’t slept so the warm air made a good-dog sleepy. The drive took them out of the city, and soon only the dim shine of moon glow played hide and seek in the clouds.
“Thank goodness the plows cleared the roads.” September finally broke the silence, and Shadow roused from his doze as they drew near to a large house. “Now, let’s hope for more luck to find the cat.”
Shadow woofed and thumped his tail at the find word. He grew more excited when September climbed out the car. “Sorry, Shadow, this time Macy does the honors. Shadow wait.” She walked around to the rear of the car, let Macy out of his carrier, and left Shadow shut inside.
He yelped. He ran to first one window and then the next to keep September and Macy in view. She left the front eyelights shining the snow to a white sheen, bathing the small outbuilding in a reflective glow. He watched her open the carrier’s zipper webbing, and grasp Macy’s leash, and barked his protest again. He wanted to play the tracking game! September always gave him something to sniff—a toy, or dog sweater, or cat brush—so he knew where to start. But she offered no sniff-suggestion to Macy, just set the big cat down in the icy tire tracks revealed by the lights. His brow furrowed. Maybe September didn’t want Macy to track anything after all?
But after shaking himself hard to settle the fur beneath his jacket-harness, Macy padded quickly to the end of the leash September clutched. The big cat guided her forward, and September followed Macy’s paw steps toward the small building.
Shadow barked again. September glared over one shoulder at him, putting one gloved finger to her lips. His ears fell. He licked his lips. With a whine, Shadow settled onto the rear seat, and watched.
MR. BLEAK REMEMBERED the white animal leaped from the girl’s car, and figured it ran back to the house. But the police had secured all doors and windows, so he didn’t need to waste time searching inside. He checked nearby trees—cats supposedly liked to climb trees—and viewed every angle of the roof. As he’d looked in each nook and cranny, his impatience grew. Surely it couldn’t hide forever? He’d search the outbuilding last, and might have to torch the place after all. When a car’s headlights speared the night, he stepped into the shadows to watch. He didn’t feel angry at the miscalculation, simply made adjustments.
Huh. Not the baby cop after all. He recognized the black shepherd barking in the back seat. His research into the animal’s owner told him all he needed to know about the dog’s skills. What a weird-ass waste, to train a mutt to track lost animals, instead of something useful like to take down bad guys.
He sneered internally, but remained expressionless. The scalded skin felt so hot and tight on his face, it might split open if he blinked too hard. He settled in to wait. She’d come to him, so no need to track her down. Once she recovered the computer backup, he’d relish eliminating the cat, September Day, and her precious black dog.
MACY PULLED AGAINST the leash, padding with dainty grace through the cold powdery white. He detested the snow, but enjoyed the games he played with September. The jacket vest signaled what game she intended, so he delicately sniffed the air as he drew near the building.
His ears twitched, detecting the ultrasonic squeak of vermin. Macy licked his lips, and the tip of his long dark tail twitched. He’d already eaten in his carrier, on the car trip here, so felt no urgent need to hunt. But still... the hardwired instinct challenged his focus, until September spoke one word.
“Find.” She urged him on, her voice soft, and rattled the baggy in her pocket. The promise of stinky fish treats trumped Macy’s mousy temptation.
He tugged the leash again, eager to examine the scents that clung in the dips and hollows protected from the wind. Macy led September around the building, sniffing likely corners at cheek-rub height, seeking the signature territorial claim of another of his kind.
They reached the open doorway. Macy’s nose twitched at two competing smells. The scary human scent bathed the large car that squatted in the middle of the building. He hissed, arched his back, and turned aside when September repeated the request once again. Macy understood the man-smell didn’t matter in this quest. No, September only wanted to find a cat hiding nearby.
The missing cat’s urine scent permeated the enclosure. Male. Adult. Potent. Scared. The height of its check-rub marks told him the cat’s size, and more. He glanced up at September and mewed softly. She bent to stroke his cheeks—he loved that, and leaned hard into the caress. Macy understood she couldn’t detect the smell evidence of the friendly intact male. He rubbed his cheeks against her hand, refreshing his scent-claim. September belonged to him.
He loved September, even if she lacked the discriminating skills of an intelligent cat. Macy appreciated other cats more than dogs, although he’d grown to like Shadow—once the dog had been properly schooled in cat appreciation. He had watched her show Shadow, and already knew what to do before September finally understood he wanted to play tracking games, too.
Sometimes, people took a very long time to learn things that cats quickly understood. Humans did know how to harvest the best treats, though.
Macy sniffed the sides of the doorway, then tugged September around the wall, sniffing only a couple more times to be sure. He stood on his hind legs, and leaped up to the top of a nearby stack of bags and boxes. Yes, the strange cat rested here for some time, but then fled, leaving behind fear-stink. Macy lifted his head higher and scented the air. He hopped down from the perch and tugged September deeper into the storage area, sniffing the bases of boxes and bags along the way.
The pee-mail deposit emanated from midway down the back wall of stacked materials. Macy liked the location. It offered options to escape from two directions, and clear sight-lines to see approaching danger. He tugged harder, feeling the tension over his shoulders where the leash connected to his vest, and picked up his pace.
There! Under the table, back behind boxes, the freshest cat scent of all. Macy mewed, and pawed at the container. He scrunched down to stick his wide head farther inside, careful to test the opening by whisker-width.
In the far back corner, doing his best to shrink himself small, Macy spied the other cat. Bigger than Macy himself. But with his face turned into the corner. He shivered, not from cold—the strange cat’s body heat warmed the small enclosed space. The pale cat had hidden himself in a fine place, one only other cats could access. Macy approved.
And Macy began to purr. No threat, no threat, no threat...
Slowly the strange white cat relaxed. His ears flicked, one turning toward Macy. He finally swiveled his face to see. Macy licked his nose as he turned his gaze aside. No threat. Macy’s purrs rumbled louder in the still air, no threat no threat no threat, so loud even September’s feeble hearing could detect them. But she didn’t move or say a word. She waited as Macy continued his calming work.
The other cat’s answering purr began, sub-vocal, something only another cat could detect. Macy backed away, shook cobwebs from his fur, then looked up at September and pawed her leg, confirming the find. She smiled and knelt beside Macy, stroking him and murmuring softly a strange word over and over.
“Sherlock. Sherlock. Here kitty, pretty boy, Sherlock, Sherlock.” She opened the treat bag and gave Macy his reward of stinky dried fish flakes. She moved a box aside and peered into the cubbyhole, too, then tossed a couple of fishy treats to the white cat.
Sherlock stood, stretched and arched his back, and yawned wide. Macy backed away, also turning sideways, and head-butted September’s arm to remind her he’d finished his treat and needed another. He trilled and rubbed the mahogany length of himself against her calf, showing the strange cat that she belonged to him—and that she also posed no threat.
Sherlock padded to the tossed treat, sniffed it, but left it in the dirt. With an answering trill of relief, he came out from under the shelter, and briefly nose-touched Macy. And he let himself be lifted into September’s arms.
Macy licked his lips after finishing the second fishy treat, and accepted September’s soft praise with pride. He led the way, tugging the leash harder and harder, anxious to get out of the snow and back to the comfort of his carrier.
Before he reached the doorway, Macy skidded to a stop when he heard Shadow’s bark. September stopped, too. Macy heard her gasp when she peered out the doorway.
The wind puffed just right, carrying the scent of the scary man waiting for them just outside.
