Free The Devil's in the Details by Mary Jane Maffini Page B

soon.
    â€œCall me when you’re finished. I’m really busy,” P.J. bleated from the cellphone.
    â€œDon’t you give a hoot about the welfare of animals?”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?
    â€œCats trapped in vacant houses. Ring a bell?”
    â€œThat’s cruel, even for you, Tiger.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, cruel? I’m serious. It’s not why I called, but just keep your shirt on until I check out this noise. Then I’ll give you the scoop on the woman without a history.”
    I knew he wouldn’t hang up after that. I clutched the phone and moved toward the stairs to the basement. I opened the door and peered down into the darkness.
    I didn’t plan to go downstairs and check. I’ve seen way too many teen horror movies for that.
    â€œHere, kitty kitty,” I said.
    â€œWhat?” P.J. squawked from the phone.
    No kitties emerged.
    The nice thing about an alarm system is that you know you are alone in a house. The not-so-nice thing is you might not be correct. I felt rather than saw the movement from the dining room. I had no time to turn around fully before the impact of the blow between my shoulder blades pushed me forward. The phone shot out of my hand and bounced down the stairs. I grabbed for the walls, trying for anything to stop my fall. I connected with the vacuum hose, which slid off the hook and rattled down the stairs. I howled as I tumbled through the dark after it.
    The only image in my mind was the concrete floor below. The impact when I hit the bottom put an end to that.

Eleven
    I opened my eyes to see a familiar paramedic. I didn’t remember which of my many recent disasters he’d shown up for.
    â€œHave we met before?” I said.
    Apparently this wasn’t all that intelligible.
    â€œTry not to move until we check you out, ma’am.” I closed my eyes again. I liked the sound of his voice, soothing yet uplifting, like ice cream. Mint chocolate chip.
    That voice was an appealing contrast to the sounds of my three sisters fussing in the background. What were they doing here? Where was here?
    I said, “Is it a cliché to ask, where am I?”
    â€œYou’re at the bottom of a staircase in the basement of someone else’s house in the middle of the night giving everyone you know heart attacks, Missy. That’s where you are.”
    Ah, Edwina. Always one to stab a manicured nail into the real issue.
    For some reason, there were two of her. And two of Alexa and Donalda. I didn’t see any of my father. Two Mrs. Parnells stood close by, hunched near the wall and smoking a couple of Benson & Hedges. It was possible they stood next to some Alvins, but I couldn’t be quite sure. It hurt to turn my head.
    â€œTry not to move,” the mint chocolate chip voice said.
    Meanwhile, Edwina was warming up for a rant.
    â€œSave me,” I whispered to Mrs. Parnell. All I got was smoke rings. Quite a lot of them.
    â€œLadies,” the paramedic said, “you’ll have to move off. We need quiet and light. And we don’t want the patient upset. That goes for you too, gentlemen.”
    I spotted two P.J.s lurking in the corner, next to the two gas furnaces. Four policemen were making notes in matching notebooks.
    â€œI repeat, you’ll have to clear the area.” The paramedic sounded like he meant business.
    Edwina grumbled. “Of course, let’s not upset her. She can scare us out of our wits, so we can drive an hour into town in the middle of the night, and that’s all right.”
    A slight scuffling ensued. Alexa said, “Come on. You can give her hell later.”
    â€œSure, rough me up when there are no witnesses,” I mumbled.
    A cloud of sisters ascended the staircase, followed by a pair of P.J.s. The Alvins’ ponytails flicked out of sight along with them.
    The paramedic had less success with Mrs. Parnell.
    â€œI am equal parts disabled and litigious,” she