The Truth About Cats & Dogs (19 page)

M
ACK WATCHED
Sergeant Greene collect the piece of paper that bore the drawing of the tattoo and the words “bad teeth.”

“Those two old gents on the porch reluctantly confirmed that one of the men chasing your daughter had a dragon tattoo and the other had bad teeth. Looks like your daughter is pretty smart,” the officer told Mack. “That's in her favor. Now that we know she's been abducted, we can focus our search.”

The police officer and Penny, heads bent together in a whispered conversation, walked back to the patrol car.

Mack felt his dread deepen.
Abducted.
There was no doubt now. Miranda had been taken by unprincipled and possibly violent men. His nine-year-old daughter was beyond his protection.

Mack's fears were compounded by the total fall of darkness. Officers had almost finished searching the junkyard, and so far there was no sign of Miranda or the cat. With the moonlight touching the last bits of shiny metal and glass on the sea of cars that
stretched out for acres, Mack felt hopelessness settle over him. Miranda could be anywhere.

“She's going to be okay.” Peter walked up behind Mack. His voice held determination. “Let's head back to your house. If she can get home, that's where she'll go. If the officers find anything, they'll contact you at home. Penny is giving them all the pertinent information.”

Mack turned and followed Peter down the block. “I hope so.”

“I don't blame you for being skeptical, but keep in mind, Familiar is on the case.”

“He's a cat.” Mack couldn't help himself. He didn't intend to hurt Peter's feelings. After all, Peter was a total stranger, yet he had just spent the past four hours searching for Miranda. They were moving slowly away from the junkyard, and he looked back over his shoulder. “There's not much a cat can do at this point.” Penny was rapidly catching up with them, and he felt a sense of relief.

Peter's laugh was easy. “So you might think. Just remember, even though Familiar was wounded, he still went after your daughter.”

“How would he know where they took her?” Mack wanted to believe. More than anything he wanted to hold on to the idea that someone—even a cat—was on the trail of Miranda.

“Cats are uncanny creatures,” Penny said. “They have a sixth sense about things, and Familiar is the most observant living creature I've ever known.”

“We both know that those men didn't take Miranda because they wanted to buy her an ice-cream cone.” Mack pushed aside the thoughts of what they might be doing to his daughter.

“What about ransom?” Penny asked.

Mack felt as if he were under water. Ransom! He'd never even thought about it. “I need to check my phone,” he said. He dialed his home number, got the answering machine, coded in his key and began to retrieve the one message. At the rough sound of the strange man's voice, he felt as if everything around him had stopped.

“Your little girl says you'll pay for her,” the voice said. “If that's true, and you want her back alive, you'll need some money. Lots of money. A hundred-thousand dollars, cash. And if you involve the police or anyone else in this, you can kiss your kid goodbye. I have a source in the police department, so don't do anything stupid. I'll call back and tell you the arrangements.”

The message ended, and Mack felt as if his heart had frozen.

“You got a call, didn't you,” Penny said.

“You've been a big help,” he said to her and Peter, “but I can handle it from here.” Mack's gaze sought the police officer walking toward them.

“The tracking dogs will be here in about five minutes,” the officer said.

“We don't need them.” Mack was abrupt. “My daughter called home. She was at a friend's. I'm
going to get her now.” He brushed past Peter, Penny and the officer and started toward home. The worst thing that could happen now would be for the kidnappers to think he'd called the police. The ransom call had been left almost ten minutes earlier, on his home phone. Miranda must have given the kidnappers information on how to reach him. Now he had to get home and wait for the next call. And he couldn't involve Peter and Penny.

“Is she okay?” Penny had jogged to catch up with him, and she was stretching her legs to maintain the brisk pace he'd set. “What happened?”

“She's fine.” Mack glanced down at Penny's worried face. “I can't stay here. Please tell Sergeant Greene how much I thank him.” He sprinted into the darkness without even a backward glance.

 

P
ENNY KNEW SOMETHING
was terribly wrong. One minute she was working with Mack Sanders to find his little girl, and the next she was standing in a junkyard, dismissed as if she were of no significance. And to top it off, Mack had left her to thank the police officers, while he disappeared. Beneath the initial hurt, she felt the warning of trouble.

She walked back to her uncle and Sergeant Greene, trying hard not to show she was troubled. “Mr. Sanders said to thank you, Sergeant. I guess he was so excited at finding Miranda that he rushed away.”

“He sure has a great way of showing his appreci
ation. Let me radio the dogs and send them back. He said the kid showed up at someone's house, right?”

“That's what he said,” Peter answered.

Penny swung around at her uncle's tone of voice. When she started to say something, Peter put a hand on her arm, cautioning her to silence.

“Well, the important thing is the kid's safe. You two need a lift?” Greene asked.

“No, thanks. My cat is still missing,” Peter said. “I think we'll hunt a little longer.”

“Be careful. This isn't a great neighborhood. Would you like me to stay with you?”

Peter shook the sergeant's hand. “I'm sure you have better things to do than hunt for a lost cat.”

“I'll contact Mr. Sanders. He'll have to come by the police department tomorrow and fill out some paperwork. I'm just glad we had a good result in this one. I was getting worried when he found that note.”

As soon as the sergeant was gone, Penny turned to her uncle. “What on earth is going on?”

“Miranda isn't safe. I think Mack must have gotten a ransom call. He checked his messages, and then suddenly, his whole personality changed.”

“I'll say,” Penny said, realizing how bad her feelings were hurt. “If someone has taken Miranda for ransom, Mack needs to tell the police.”

Peter shook his head. “I'm sure he was warned not to, and I have to say, I'd do the same thing in his situation.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Our ace in the hole is Familiar.”

“Uncle Peter, I know you love him, but he is just a cat.”

Peter put his arm around Miranda's shoulders. “So you may think. Let me tell you about the anthropologist he saved in Egypt, or the horse in Ireland, or the sheriff in Colorado, or the stuntwoman in Hollywood, or—”

“Okay, I get the point. So, what do you think Familiar is up to?”

“I only wish I knew,” Peter said. “I do know that he won't fail to risk his life for that little girl, and if she is being held for ransom, Familiar is her best hope.”

“I can't just go home and wait this out. We're going by the clinic to feed the kittens, and then I'm going to Mack's house and demand that he let us help out.”

Peter hugged Penny's shoulders. “That's my girl.”

 

H
UMANOIDS FIND NIGHT
, more often than not, to be a disadvantage. Not me. Night is my ally. I'm sleek and black and equipped with eyes that see better in darkness than those of Homo sapiens. No big surprise there, though. Felines are generally superior in all regards.

Let's see. I've made it at least four miles from the junkyard. The neighborhood has gotten worse and worse, and I've passed two cages with felines already trapped. They looked bad. I did my best to reassure them that this was all going to work out, but
I don't think they believed me. They were hungry and thirsty, and I needed Miranda to help me work the release mechanism. I just couldn't do it on my own. Which tends to make me want to rethink my plan. I just don't have time to cook up something better.

So, here's an empty cage. Baited with…sniff, sniff…peanut better? These guys are great. They not only trap animals for some nefarious purpose, but they're too cheap to even spring for some decent food. If these stray cats weren't starving, they wouldn't fall for peanut butter. Just wait until I get my hands on these cretins. I'm going to make them pay in ways they never imagined. That is, of course, if Miranda has been taken by them and if she's conscious and able to help me.

My whole plan centers on that little girl. I spent enough time with her this afternoon to know what a big and courageous heart she has. She's been saving her lunch money from school to buy food for the strays. She goes hungry all day.

And when she grows up, she's going to be a vet, just like Penny and Peter. Except she says she's going to have a mobile vet clinic and drive through neighborhoods like this to help the stray animals that no one else helps.

She did talk to me a bit about her mother leaving. Her little heart is bruised but not broken. She says she has to be brave for her dad. She says that he is so sad, he can't even talk about it.

I doubt that's true, but this is one of the major
problems with humanoids. They get an idea in their head and then they don't talk to anyone, especially the person who should hear it. Sigh. I could teach seminars in this. Felines, and to some extent even canines, are superb at making their feelings known. We want food—we demand it. We want sleep—we curl up and dare anyone to annoy us. We want danger—well, here it comes. I'm stepping into the cage. Speaking of wants, I don't really want to do this. I've been trapped and caged before, and it wasn't a positive experience. But I have to find Miranda.

I can't help but believe this is exactly what's happened to the mother cat, the one she calls Gumbo. I took a look at those kittens. They'd been cleaned and loved. Gumbo didn't leave them voluntarily. I can only hope that when these creeps come to fetch me, they'll take me straight to Gumbo—and Miranda.

M
ACK SAT
in the leather chair beside the telephone at his house and replayed the message. The words were even more chilling the second time around. The male voice was cold, cruel. The idea that such a man held his daughter's fate was almost more than Mack could bear.

From the little he knew about ransoms, mostly from television and movies, Mack thought that a hundred-thousand dollars wasn't an excessively large amount of money to ask for. Still, it would be difficult to raise on short notice. Time was the problem. Things in the financial world didn't move fast enough. He didn't have a choice, though. He would get the money, no matter what he had to do.

He had a heart-stopping mental image of Miranda, frightened, cowering in a corner of a dark room. Each minute Miranda spent in the company of those men was a minute too long.

The phone rang and he grabbed it. “Yes.”

“Can you get the money?” Threat laced the man's voice.

“Yes. I have to wait for the bank to open. I need some time.”

“Okay, you have until ten o'clock. I'll call you and tell you where to bring the money. Remember, if you notify the police, I'll know, and your kid will die.”

“Wait.” Mack gave his cell phone number. “And I want to talk to my daughter.”

There was the fumbling of the phone before he heard Miranda's voice. “Daddy, they have all these cats and—” His daughter's voice was cut off.

The same man came back on the line. “You heard her. She's alive. Just do what we tell you and she'll stay that way.”

“If you harm her in any way—”

“What will you do?” the man jeered. “Instead of wasting time thinking about that, you'd better worry about getting the money.” The line went dead.

Mack sat back and let his heart rate calm. He had some money in savings, but he'd have to cash out his stocks. And he could borrow from the bank. There was no doubt he could get the money, but could he get it by ten? The bank opened at nine. He'd have only an hour.

Sweat rolled down his back. He got up and began to pace. He had to have everything figured out by morning so that all went like clockwork.

He heard a knock on his door and stopped. Moving stealthily, he stepped to the window and looked out. The petite woman who stood on his porch could not be anyone but Penny. The very sight of her made his heart lift.

He opened the door and, without a word, quickly pulled her into the house. “Is anyone out there?” he asked. “Did you see anyone?”

“No,” she answered.

He held her for a moment and then released her. “You can't be here. You have to leave.”

“What?”

“You have to get away from here. There's danger. For you, and for Miranda if anyone sees you.”

“I know those men have Miranda.” She looked into his eyes. “I'm not leaving, Mack. Not by a long shot. Peter and I are involved in this and we aren't leaving until Miranda's home safe and sound. Right now, Peter's at the clinic. And don't forget, his cat is out there, too. We're all going to help.”

The rush of emotion caught Mack by surprise. How long had it been since he'd felt someone was really on his side? Years. Even when his ex-wife had been at home, he hadn't felt he could rely on her. Belinda had been totally self-centered. Her needs had always come first. Penny was a stranger, a woman he'd just met. Yet she was standing right in front of him, refusing to leave until Miranda was safe.

“I can't involve you in this,” he said, his hand touching her cheek. “Your offer means more to me than you'll ever know. But these men are dangerous. They could hurt you.” He paused. “They could kill you. Or they could hurt Miranda if they know I've got anyone else involved. I can't let that happen.”

Penny's smile was crooked. “You don't have a
choice, Mack Sanders. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Peter's at the office waiting for my call. If you don't let us help, then he's going to call the police.”

“That's blackmail,” Mack said.

“Yep, it is.” Penny took his hand. “So learn to enjoy it. Remember, I'm not leaving. This is one time you aren't going to be left all alone.”

“Okay, then,” he said. “Listen to this.” He played the original message for Penny, and then the conversation he'd just recorded.

“It's the same man both times,” Penny said.

He saw his own fear reflected in Penny's eyes, and somehow, that made him stronger.

“I can get the money. In the morning. But I don't know if I can get it in an hour.”

Penny nodded. He could see that she was thinking hard. When she spoke, though, he was surprised at her clarity and daring.

“I think we should use paper. Cut it, bundle it just like money, wrap it and put it in the bottom of a case. Cover the bundles of paper with some real money, so the kidnappers would have to dig down to find out that we'd tricked them.”

Mack recognized the wisdom of her words intellectually, but emotionally he felt only fear at the idea. “I can't play with my daughter's life,” he said.

“I know,” Penny said. “But consider this. If you go to the bank and attempt a large withdrawal, the banking authorities are going to notify the police.
You'll have a risk either way. Which risk is worse—trying to trick them or getting the police involved?”

Mack realized she was right. “Damn!” he whispered harshly.

“I have some cash at the clinic. It's not a lot, but with what you can get and what Peter may have, we can pull this off.” Penny's warm hand, so small and fragile but so strong, grasped his. “Remember, Miranda's a lot smarter than her captors. She left us a clue. We have to be as smart as she is.”

Mack knew the plan she offered was the only one that had a chance of working. He'd never get the money without alerting the police, even if he could get it at all by the deadline. Once the police were involved, he believed the captors would kill his daughter. The kidnapper had said he had a contact in the police department.

“Okay,” he said.

There was a knock at the door that made both of them jump. Mack checked through the window and saw Peter standing on the porch.

“Come in,” Mack said as he opened the door.

“No time.” Peter's voice was clipped. “I have an idea. I'm going to say I was attacked. I'll go down to the police station and see if I can look at some mug books. We don't have a lot to go on, except the tattoo. I believe these men have been in trouble before.”

“That's a good idea,” Mack said. He bit his lip as he took Peter's hand and gripped it tightly. “Be care
ful. The kidnapper says he has someone on the inside at the police department.”

“No problem,” Peter said. “I'll call if I find anything. And you call me if you find Familiar.”

Mack watched Peter stride down the sidewalk to his car. When he closed the door, he turned to find Penny watching him closely. “What do we do until morning?” he asked.

“Wait,” she said simply. “That's all we can do. I'll make something to eat, and then we're going to try to rest for a few hours. I'll set an alarm so I can get up and feed those kittens.”

Mack put his hands on her shoulders. With her soft, curly hair framing her face, she was lovely. “Through all of this, you have the energy to nurse a litter of abandoned kittens?”

Penny shook her head. Her smile was wry. “The good news is that when we find Miranda, I think we'll also find that mother cat—and then she can take over her responsibilities. Now, show me the kitchen. We have to eat while we can.”

He didn't argue with her. Didn't have the desire. She was right, and she was beautiful. As she opened his cupboards and began to look for something to cook, he couldn't help but think how natural it felt to have her in his life.

 

P
ENNY PUT
the angel-hair pasta on the table. For a man who lived without a wife, Mack kept a well-supplied kitchen. Penny noticed several bottles of good
wine but didn't open one. They were both too tired, too stressed. Wine might dull their ability to react—should it become necessary.

As she set the table she felt his gaze lingering on her. Instead of making her uncomfortable, it made her realize how at ease she was with him. She'd missed so much, living a solitary life. Independence and being comfortable alone were both good things—things she'd struggled to attain. But in the rush to be independent and avoid the risk of caring for another person, she'd lost a lot, too. Like this feeling of partnership, and the underlying tingle of sexual attraction. Now wasn't the time for kisses, but…she wanted to kiss Mack. She thought about it, and when she did, she felt alive in a way that she'd never felt before. Deliciously alive.

Once Miranda was safely home, she was going to explore her feelings for Mack Sanders. Yesterday, she might have been too shy, but Miranda's disappearance had taught her a valuable lesson—no one knew what the future held. There wasn't always plenty of time to waste. And while trying to keep from again losing someone she loved, she'd lost the joy of loving.

Things were going to change.

“Dinner's ready,” she said.

Mack held her chair as she sat. He had good manners. She liked that in a man. In fact, she liked a great many things about Mack Sanders. When he was seated across from her, she smiled.

“I know you don't feel like eating, but try.”

He took a bite. “It's delicious. It's just that—”

“I know,” she said. “Eat a little anyway.”

Instead of eating, he looked at her. “Tell me something about yourself. Something good.” He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Time is passing so slowly. Talk to me.”

She put down her fork. She wasn't hungry, either. “I've always loved animals. When I was a child, my best friend was my dog, Clover. She went everywhere with me. And when my dad died, Clover was the only one who could comfort me.”

“You've had a lot of loss in your life, haven't you?”

She nodded. “Mom died when I was in my teens. Uncle Peter paid my way through college and veterinary school.”

“You two seem close.”

She nodded. “We are. Now you tell me something about yourself.” She sipped the iced tea she'd made and decided to ask the question that had lingered in her mind all day. “What happened with your wife?” She held his gaze. She'd just stepped right into the middle of Mack's personal business. Her new motto, though, was not to waste time. All of it was precious, and if he was still in love with his ex, she needed to know.

“Miranda is the best thing that came from that relationship. I realize now that I never loved Belinda, or if I did, that love died in the first months of our marriage.”

“How did you meet?” Penny knew that the best thing was to keep him talking. She could see that his memories were painful, but sometimes the best way to heal was to talk.

Mack looked at his plate, but before he spoke, he shifted his gaze to her so that he was staring deeply into her eyes. “I knew Belinda in college. She was beautiful, and always laughing. I never dreamed she'd go out with me, but she did.” He paused. “She got pregnant. She wanted to have an abortion, but I wanted the baby. I begged her to marry me, and she finally did. Miranda was born, and from the first day Belinda got home with the baby from the hospital, she was leaving.”

Penny frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She'd stand at the kitchen sink, looking out the window at the backyard. I think she was imagining herself anywhere but where she was. She was terribly unhappy. I did try, but I didn't know what to do to make her happy.”

“She didn't love Miranda?”

He looked down at his plate. “I don't think she did. I don't think she loved anyone, even herself. In the long run, that may have been a blessing. Miranda didn't take her departure all that hard. I think on some level she realized Belinda had always been gone. I see now that I'm the only one who took her leaving so much to heart, and I've been attributing all of that to Miranda. I just hope it isn't too late to straighten it all out for my daughter.”

Penny felt a sense of sorrow for the long-gone Belinda. How was it possible to have a child like Miranda and not love her?

“Do you know where your wife is?”

“
Ex
-wife. I divorced her in absentia. And no. I never heard a word. I tell Miranda that she calls and asks about her, but it's a lie, and I think Miranda knows it.” He frowned. “I've made so many mistakes.”

Penny didn't approve of lying to a child, but she certainly understood Mack's reasons for doing so. Heck, in his shoes, she might have done a lot more. But there was a question niggling at her. “Do you think it's possible your ex-wife might be behind this abduction?”

Mack gave it a moment's thought before he spoke. “No. Because I don't think Belinda would ever have thought Miranda was valuable enough to ransom. Her mind just didn't work that way. I suspect she's in Vegas or some party town living it up. She's a beautiful woman, and as long as her looks last, she won't even think about what she left behind in Mobile, Alabama.”

“So, tell me about your little girl,” Penny said, hoping to lighten the conversation. They had hours to get through before it would be time for another phone call from the kidnappers.

“Miranda is the best. She has the liveliest imagination. I can sit for hours and listen to her talk about what she does and thinks. She writes every day. I've never seen anything like it. Of course, I'd never read her diary before, but she's told me about it.”

The frown had left his features, and Penny drank in the sight of Mack smiling. He was a handsome man, a strong man with a big heart filled with love for his daughter.

“When Miranda gets up in the morning, she makes toast for both of us,” Mack said. “She puts milk out for the cat. She has such a routine.” A pang crossed his face. “When she comes home, I'm going to buy a truckload of cat food for her and help her set traps to catch all those feral cats. I should have helped her.”