Free Dangerous Deception by Peg Kehret Page A

the opening in the basket’s handle, Mrs. Spangler returned to the kitchen. I heard the sounds of a cupboard door closing, and then an electric can opener. As I tied off the yarn, she called, “I have bait, so kitty will get in the basket.”
    She held out an open can of tuna.
    â€œThat’s a great idea!” I said. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Spangler. You’ve been a huge help. I’ll bring your things back as soon as I rescue Midnight.”
    I took the step stool out first and opened it next to the Dumpster. When I climbed up, I could see Midnight standing forlornly on a pile of trash. Eggshells, coffee grounds, wadded-up paper napkins, orange rinds, and plastic bags filled with unidentifiable items were mixed together in a horrible hodgepodge of odor.
    Next I carried out the laundry basket and the can of tuna. I placed the tuna in the basket, climbed back up the step stool, and tried not to inhale as I lowered the basket over the side. Midnight smelled the tuna right away and stepped toward it.
    Get in the basket
, I thought as he sniffed and craned his neck forward, trying to reach the tuna without stepping into the wicker container. Luckily, he couldn’t reach the tuna without getting into the basket. The second he stepped into the basket, I pulled on the yarn. Midnight turned when the basket moved, and for a second, I thought he was going to jump back onto the piles of garbage.
    â€œHey, kitty, kitty,” I said. “Hi, Midnight. You’re a good boy. Stay where you are now. Good kitty. Good Midnight.”
    My voice seemed to soothe him and, although his tail swished nervously, he stayed in the basket while I slowly hauled it up and over the top. As I lowered it to the top of the step stool, he leaped to the ground and ran.
    I climbed down and put the can of tuna on the ground. “Here, Midnight,” I called. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
    I thought he might be more likely to come if I moved away from the tuna, so I folded up the stool and returned it and the basket to Mrs. Spangler, who waited for me with her door open, peering anxiously out.
    â€œI got him,” I said. “The tuna did the trick.”
    â€œWhere is he?” she asked.
    â€œHe ran off, but I’m sure he’ll be back to finish his tuna. I left the can where he can find it.”
    She nodded.
    â€œWould you like to keep him until Sophie comes home?” I asked. If Midnight was shut in Mrs. Spangler’s apartment, he would be safe until Sophie came looking for him.
    â€œI wish I could,” she said. “I always had animals in the old days—dogs and cats and once even a pet rabbit named Ralph. Ralph chewed through all my electric cords, but I loved him, anyway. I can’t take care of an animal anymore, though. It’s all I can do to keep myself going. I can’t lift an animal or bend enough to clean up a mess.”
    â€œThank you so much for helping me,” I said as I put the step stool in her kitchen.
    â€œWhat if whoever threw him in there does it again?” she asked.
    That awful possibility had occurred to me, too. If No Help had dumped Midnight once because the cat cried outside Sophie’s door or attempted to get into the apartment building whenever the front door opened, he might try to get rid of Midnight a second time. I didn’t want him to have another chance.
    â€œI’m going to take the kitty home with me,” I said.
    Until the words came out of my mouth, I had not considered taking Midnight with me, but once I said that, I knew it was the only way to be sure No Help didn’t harm him.
    â€œMy parents will let me keep him until I can give him back to Sophie,” I said.
    I was not at all sure my parents would let me keep Midnight but I spoke confidently, as if by convincing Mrs. Spangler, I was also convincing Mom and Dad.
    I untied the yarn, and wiped off the basket with a soapy cloth before I returned it to Mrs.