Jeffrey kept on purring.
The refrigerator in the adjoining kitchen clicked off, and the house echoed with emptiness around me.
Something creaked.
I jumped up to make sure Pam had locked the back door. It was locked, but it wouldn’t take much to kick down a door like that if someone big wanted in.
I nuzzled my chin against Jeffrey’s head as I walked through the house, checking all the doors and windows. When I got to the front room’s window, I peered out into the wintery darkness. The two investigators were loading up their evidence finds. I squinted, but couldn’t distinguish anything interesting.
They started up their engines, washing the snow with a red glow from their tail lights. I watched as the unmarked crime scene investigation vehicles pulled away.
Now it was just me, Jeffrey, the regular neighbors, and the terrifying serial killer from Pam’s overactive imagination.
Chapter 12
Alone in my father’s empty house, I tried not to imagine a crazed killer coming from house to house.
Jeffrey meowed to let me know he might be interested in dinner. I took him to the kitchen, put out a can of soft food for him, then foraged in the fridge for something human. I couldn’t tell what Pam had been making for dinner, besides a mess. I settled on a roast beef sandwich.
I sat at the table in the kitchen, facing the back door to keep a lookout for serial killers, and took out my phone to check for messages.
There was a new text from one of my friends. She was an older friend, from Misty Falls. I didn’t usually chat with her much, so there were months-long gaps between our messages.
She wanted me to go for drinks with her and some of the other girls we used to hang out with, back in high school.
Short of getting a root canal, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less.
I turned to the Russian Blue cat and said, “Jeffrey, you need me to stay with you, right?”
He finished his food and came over on wobbly legs to investigate my roast beef. He was recovering well from the day’s surgery, and would be fine, but I saw what I wanted to see: the little guy was too weak to be left alone, fending off the neighborhood’s serial killer with nothing more than his wits and claws.
I lifted him up into my lap, where he sat politely as I dug through my sandwich for a small chunk of beef that didn’t have any mustard on it. He licked his glossy black lips in anticipation before I gave it to him.
“The vet did say someone should keep an eye on you tonight. So, since Pam has gone to her sister’s, I suppose I’ll have to stay over with you tonight. What do you say to a sleepover party? We can watch old movies in the guest room.”
He looked up at me with his beautiful green eyes and blinked twice to tell me yes. Then he looked at my roast beef sandwich and smacked his lips.
I gave him another small treat, then sent a message back to my friend: I have to look after my father’s cat tonight. He’s a little shaken up.
She wrote back: Oh, Stormy, you are my most hilarious and best friend! You are so funny! I heard about everything. Please tell the cat I’m very sorry for his loss, but maybe the new neighbor will be nicer to him!
I started to write back explaining that Jeffrey was shaken up from having his kitty-manhood surgically altered, and probably didn’t give a whisker about Mr. Michaels, but I simplified things considerably by texting back: LOL.
The cat and I finished our roast beef sandwich, then retired to the guest room to watch television.
I turned the TV volume down and put in a call to my father’s cell phone. It went to voice mail, and the mailbox was full. Either he forgot to bring his charger on the trip, or he was avoiding someone. He probably didn’t want to talk to Pam, because of whatever thing she was upset about.
I looked up the number for the hospital in the city. The call rang and rang, and then finally someone answered.
“May I have the room for Finnegan Day, please?” I