Six Cats A Slayin'

With note, thumbtack, and yardstick in hand, I went to the front door and opened it. Diesel came with me and watched, curious as to what I was doing. I stood on the stoop and pulled the door nearly shut. I measured with the yardstick, and as I had anticipated, the point where I calculated the note should be was in the center of the large wreath, itself hung several inches above the center of the door.

I tacked the note in place and stood back to look at it. Unless I’d known where to search, I don’t think I would have spotted the small camera hidden in the greenery of the wreath. I went back inside the house, and half a minute or so later my phone pinged to announce the availability of a new video.

I watched it once, amused to see that the camera had captured close-ups of my chest. Not so amused, however, to see the size and shape of said chest. Toned, I was not.

Half an hour later, finished with dinner, I was cleaning up after myself in the kitchen when my cell phone rang. After hastily wiping my hands on a dish towel, I grabbed the phone off the table and read the caller ID.

“Hi, son, how is Alex?” I said.

“Doing better. She’s home,” Sean said. “She’s slept for over twelve hours, and even though she’s a bit disoriented from some of the meds, I think she’s a little better mentally.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Do you think she’s in any condition to have visitors?”

“Maybe by tomorrow evening,” Sean replied. “Right now, they’re keeping her calm with medication while we try to build her up again. I guess I hadn’t realized how much weight she’d lost. She hadn’t reached the point of malnutrition yet, but she was too close.”

I had noticed the weight loss, and it had worried me, but recently Alex had taken to brushing off any inquiries about her appetite and her general state of well-being. I could only be thankful that she was now getting the care she needed.

“You need to catch up on your sleep, too, you know.”

“I’m going to after dinner,” Sean said. “Cherelle wants to make a run home to pick up some clothes and a few other things, so I’m going to take care of Rosie while she does that. I’m going to cook myself a steak, microwave a big potato, load it up with sour cream, butter, and cheese, and have a feast. Have you had dinner yet?”

“Yes, and as good as it was, yours sounds better,” I said with a laugh. “Enjoy your meal, and give my beautiful Rosie a few kisses from her old grandpa.”

“Will do, Grandpa,” Sean said. “I’ll call you sometime in the morning with another update.”

“Thanks. I’ll be praying for more good news. Good night.” I ended the call.

Satisfied that I had properly tidied the kitchen, I turned out the light and went to the living room to have a look at the kittens. Diesel and I watched for a few minutes while they tumbled and tussled with one another. They seemed perfectly happy in their corral.

In the den I settled on the sofa with Diesel stretched out beside me. I had recorded a program from one of the cable channels that I wanted to watch. I hoped a documentary on recent archaeological discoveries in Egypt would interest me enough to help me keep my mind off worries about Alex, concern for Milton and Tammy, and my interest in the murder case. Thanks to the writer Elizabeth Peters, I had become fascinated with ancient Egypt years ago.

I became engrossed in the documentary, and time slipped by. I checked my phone a couple of times, but no new video appeared. Perhaps the child wouldn’t come to check on the kittens until the morning. She ought to be home getting ready for bed. It was nearly nine o’clock.

Helen Louise called at nine thirty. The documentary had ended a few minutes before, and I was surprised that she called earlier than usual. When I mentioned this, she explained that two of her evening staff were closing the bistro tonight.

“I’m glad you got away early,” I said. “I know you’re tired.”

“About the same as usual,” Helen Louise replied. “Do you have any update on Alex? I’ve been praying that whatever treatment they’re doing is already making a difference.”

“I talked to Sean a few hours ago,” I said. “Alex is home now. Sean seems to think she has improved. She slept for over twelve hours, he said.”

“I’m so glad,” Helen Louise said. “I’ve been so worried about her. I tried talking to her one day last week, but she got upset, almost hysterical, and it was all I could do to calm her down again. She kept talking about Rosie being colicky. She seemed so worried that the baby wasn’t getting enough to eat. It’s a good thing Sean acted when he did.”

“I’ve been worried, too. I would never tell Sean this, of course, but I had hoped he would do it sooner, before Alex got quite this bad,” I said. “But I think she finally frightened him badly enough he did what had to be done.”

“To be fair, I don’t know that Sean was thinking all that clearly himself,” Helen Louise said. “From what I gathered, he wasn’t getting more than a few hours’ sleep a night. That kind of sleep deprivation can wreak havoc with your thinking processes.”