Cattitude (3 page)

Her tears dried. An eerie calm settled in
her, and she almost smiled. All her life she’d been frightened. Of
her visions, of other people. Now, with death as close as her
shadow, she felt...nothing. As if she were already dead and
gone.

Would dying be worse than living without
Fletcher? Or for the first time in her thirty-one years would she
be at peace?

***

Belle dreamed she was climbing a tree in the
jungle outside Max’s house. A squirrel fled from her, jumping from
limb to limb. She leapt after it. They were both flying. The hunter
and the prey. Finally, they reached the top branches. She stretched
out a paw and—

Something grabbed her ribs. Awake instantly,
she yowled.
Hands.
That’s what it was. She smelled a flowery
scent.
Caroline.

Long fingers covered with toweling tightened
around her ribs. Belle lashed out with her four legs, her claws
catching on cotton threads. She screeched. The towel wound twice
around her, restricting her movements, covering her face and
blinding her. She stopped squealing but kept trying to struggle
free.

“There’s one cat too many in this world.”
Caroline’s mutter penetrated the two layers of towel wrapped around
Belle’s ears. “And I’m going to take care of that. You’ll never pee
on anything of mine again. You’ll never steal Max’s attention from
me again. Without you constantly stealing his attention, I know
he’ll fall in love with me.”

Belle’s useless struggles stilled. Caroline
had killed her husband. Now it was her turn to die.

But she wasn’t dead yet. Beneath the
toweling, she kept her eyes open, her ears listening, her senses
alert. Her body ready, she waited for a chance to escape.

An up and down motion started as Caroline
hurried through the house. Caroline clasped Belle to her chest, her
heartbeat reverberating against Belle’s head, pounding almost as
fast and loud as Belle’s own heart.

The door opened. Beneath the folds of
material, Belle welcomed the chill air. Then the door closed behind
them and the up and down motion began again, this time faster.
Caroline was running.

She was afraid Max was coming home, Belle
thought.

Max. He would save her.

If he returned in time.

If he didn’t, she would have to save
herself.

Belle sensed when Caroline started toward the
woods. Her breaths rasped and she panted like a dog on a hot day.
The smell of trees and damp grass grew stronger, overpowering the
stench of her perfume.

Caroline stumbled. Instead of letting go of
Belle, her grip tightened. Belle tried flailing her legs. But the
snugly wound towel restricted her limbs, and she stopped. She
needed to save her energy.

What was Caroline planning? To kill her, yes.
But how?

Caroline caught her balance and began walking
again, Belle moving up and down, up and down. Caroline held her
almost in a lover’s embrace, except the blond woman loved only
herself.

From the curving country road came rumbles of
an occasional car, first distant, then nearer. Belle pictured the
thicket of trees surrounding Max’s house. Sometimes when Max was
working outside, washing his car or doing something on the house or
lawn, she roamed through the trees and tall grasses, chasing birds
and squirrels. She was the queen, the lioness.

Now she was the prey.

No! She refused to let Caroline kill her. If
Max didn’t come back in time to save her, she’d find a way to save
herself.

They seemed to walk for a long time. Every
once in a while, Caroline laughed wildly, a sharp edge to her voice
that reminded Belle of a squirrel she’d once seen running around
madly, its odor diseased. Through the towel, Belle felt her hands
shaking. Another car zoomed by, the engine louder and Belle smelled
exhaust through the towel. The road must be a few feet away.

“Here it is,” Caroline said. “No, it’s the
wrong place. It’ll be better around the curve.”

The curve of what?

She walked again. Her fingers dug into
Belle’s ribs, making her squeal.

“Yes, this is the place.”

The place for what?

Caroline boosted Belle higher, her hold firm,
but her hands trembling. Whatever was going to happen was happening
soon.

Belle tensed, ready to take action. A car
approached, its engine roaring too loud. It came closer. And
closer. And close—

Caroline tore off the towel and with her
strong arms that lifted weights in Max’s exercise room, heaved
Belle into the road.

Belle’s legs flailed the air, trying to stop
her flight path straight toward the car’s windshield. All her
senses expanded. She heard the squeal of tires. She smelled the
dust and the trees and the car exhaust. She saw the terrified face
of the woman driver. She saw the front of the car, the rust spots
and the dented fender. From behind her, she heard Caroline crash
back into the woods.

Belle’s mouth opened, and she cried out.
I
want to live! I want to live!

***

Sorcha slammed her foot on the brake pedal,
her hands clenching the steering wheel. The car zigzagged, tires
squealing. A cat was flying toward her car as if someone had flung
it, but who would do that? What would be the sense? Even the
homicidal megalomaniac chasing her across the Wisconsin countryside
killed for a reason.

For a second, Sorcha thought she’d miss the
cat. Then the car swerved and the small, gray creature smashed
against the windshield.

Sorcha stared into the cat’s green eyes, the
same shade she saw in the mirror every day. The next instant, the
cat flew backward.

The car followed the cat, slamming into the
bottom of a deep ditch. Sorcha’s head thumped against the
windshield, the driver’s door flew open and the air bag
deployed.

She tumbled onto the hard ground. The cat lay
inches away, its eyes staring like Fletcher’s after his breath had
stopped forever.

A cry of anguish escaped Sorcha’s throat. Why
the cat? Why not her? Without Fletcher, what was life to her?

“If you’re listening, God, let the cat live.
Take me instead.” Her fingers reached out to touch the cat’s front
legs and her voice rose to a scream. “Take me!”

***

Let me live.
As the life force seeped
out of her body, Belle stared into the woman’s green eyes. The
woman’s fingertips touched her left front paw.
I want to
live,
Belle thought.
I want to live, I want to—

The wind kicked up, swirling, whistling in
her ear. A glittering ring of light surrounded her and the woman.
The ground beneath Belle’s body heated. A jolt of energy passed
from the woman’s fingertips to Belle’s leg, traveling through her
muscles, blood and bones. The woman’s eyes widened, and Belle knew
she felt the jolt too.

Then everything went black.

“I can’t believe Mom agreed to join triple
A,” Ted said. “Bet she still calls you next time it happens.”

Max took his eyes off the S-curved road to
catch Ted’s grin. They’d turned onto Camel’s Back Road leading to
their home. One side was a wall of trees. On the other, a steep
ditch led to another thicket of trees. He switched his attention
back to the road ahead. He never knew what might be around the
curve—another car, a bicyclist, wild turkeys, deer, fox or a skunk.
In the four years since he bought the house and eleven acres, he’d
seen it all.

“She won’t call me,” Max said. Not when he
was half a world away, she wouldn’t.

“What’re you smiling about?” Ted asked. “Your
load getting a little lighter?”

Max took one hand off the steering wheel to
wipe it over his smile. “Your shoulders look wide enough to carry
some extra weight.”

“
Moi?
I’m having too much fun for
weight lifting.”

“You can have your fun and make some money
too.”

“Like you?” Ted’s tone said Max was as much
fun as a gray day.

Max steered the Jeep around the last curve
before his driveway. “Like me.”
The new me.
When they
reached home, he’d tell Ted about his plans—

A woman staggered out of the ditch, dark hair
curling wildly around her head and shoulders, her mouth open in a
plea. Looking straight at the car, she stumbled onto the road.

Max stomped on the brakes. Jesus! He was
going to hit her! The tires squealed and he steered to the right.
As if her feet were nailed to the pavement, the woman remained
standing in the middle of the road, her body swaying.

The car stopped inches from the ditch. Max
punched his seatbelt release, shoved the door open and jumped out.
He was halfway to the woman when Ted’s door slammed shut.

The woman faced him, her green eyes wide and
dazed. Her forehead was bruised, her cheek scratched and her jacket
sleeve torn. With her small-boned frame, she looked breakable, as
though a heavy breeze would take her down.

“You okay?” Max asked, reaching her.

She slumped forward. He caught her, holding
her upright. Her arms wrapped around his back. Her mouth opened and
a mewling sound came out. She blinked at the noise, her expression
surprised and scared. Shutting her mouth, she pushed her face
against Max’s brown leather jacket.

Ted slipped a blanket over her shoulders,
tucking the ends between her shoulders and Max’s chest. “I tried
calling 911, but my cell’s dead. Hand me yours.”

“Shit,” Max said.

“You forgot? I’ll see if there’s one in her
car.” He started to run.

“Don’t go inside if you smell gas,” Max
yelled.

“Think I’m stupid? Shit, her car’s totaled.”
Ted stared into the ditch that bordered Max’s property. “She say if
anyone was with her? I better check.”

“Were you alone?” Max asked as Ted clambered
into the ditch. He sniffed the air for gas fumes but only smelled
the woman’s hair, honey tinged with lemons.

Still silent, the woman shuddered in his
arms. He patted her back. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s
okay.”

The hum of a car engine carried to Max. “We
need to get off the road.” He drew the woman to the shoulder, her
feet tripping as if she’d forgotten how to walk. A silver car drove
around the curve and slowed to a crawl. Sunlight sparkled on the
tinted windshield, and Max saw a man’s silhouette. Good, Max
thought. The driver could call 911 or go for the authorities. And
if Ted found someone injured in the car, they might need
another—

The engine revved, the car raced away. Max
bit back a curse, aware of the woman hanging onto him as if he were
her lifeline.

“I didn’t see anyone else.” Ted hiked out of
the ditch, brandishing a small black purse. “No cell phone either.
Here, take her purse. I’ll run home. It’ll only take a few
minutes.”

A few precious minutes. Max shook his head.
He knew better than Ted what could happen in seconds. In less time
than to finish a last breath. “We’d have to wait another ten
minutes for an ambulance. I’ll take her to St. Joe’s. She’s not
talking. Could be in shock.”

Her fingers clutched his back and she made
another frantic mewl. He curved his hands around her shoulders and
used just enough pressure so she raised her head and peered up at
him.

“Are you okay?” He lowered his tone, calm and
reassuring, fighting his instincts to lift her like a baby and run
with her to his Jeep. “What’s your name? Can you talk?”

A mewl of distress came from her throat. Her
green eyes were dazed and she shook her head.

The wind whistled through the elm trees. The
woman’s loose jacket rippled and so did she. Max didn’t know
whether she reacted to the cold breeze or the shock of the
accident, but he folded his arms around her and drew her against
him again.

“You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it, I
promise.”

She made another sound in her throat like one
of Belle’s meows.

“Hand her over.” Ted held out his arms. “I’ll
check her out while you drive. I took the CPR class last summer,
not you.”

Cradling the woman against his chest, Max
glowered at Ted. No woman was safe from a twenty-four-year-old
man’s libido. Not even a woman who looked as if she walked out of a
fairy tale with a sad ending.

“You drive,” he said, his tone firm. He took
a step to the side, drawing the woman with him.

Her feet dragged and her fingers dug into his
back muscles through the layers of his jacket and shirt. She made a
protesting sound.

Max lowered his head, his mouth brushing the
thin shell of her ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you until the
doctors release you.”

“You don’t have to take care of the whole
world,” Ted said. “She doesn’t even know your name.”

“Max.” He looked down at the top of her
curling dark brown hair. “My name is Max.”

Her face lifted, her green eyes staring into
his. She opened her lips and a froglike croak came from her throat.
Her lips pressed together then opened again. Another croak came
out. Her forehead furrowed and her lips pulled back from her teeth.
She looked less dazed than a moment ago and more frustrated.

“Is your throat sore?” Ted leaned forward,
his face lit with interest. A kid solving a puzzle. “You want
water? Can you talk? Speak English?”

She didn’t glance at Ted, but her forehead
cleared. She continued to gaze at Max, as if memorizing his face,
feature by feature.

He felt caught by her stare, unable to break
eye contact. He studied the oval face, the too large eyes, the thin
nose and wide mouth. She wasn’t beautiful, she was
just...lovely.

Patting her back, he wished he knew what the
hell she wanted from him. At this moment, whatever it was, he’d
give her. Anything to make her feel whole and healed.

He shook his head. These bizarre thoughts
were coming from adrenaline. He didn’t even know her name.

A gray streak whipped by in his peripheral,
and he tore his gaze from the woman. Squinting at the trees edging
the ditch, he frowned. Belle? Impossible. He hadn’t let her out.
Scrutinizing the area, he saw only the wrecked car and the trees
thick and high, blocking the sun.