The Ninth Life (Blackie and Care Cat Mystery #1)

‘I told you.’ Tick leans forward, peering into the street. ‘That cat is bad news – and we shouldn’t be here, Care. We should go.’


He steps out, ready to run, and Care follows. ‘Tick, I need to find out what those men were looking for – what Bushwick was looking for – if I’m ever going to figure out what happened to the old man.’

‘What happened to the old man?’ The voice behind her makes Care turn so fast she nearly tumbles. ‘What happened to the old man is he got old. He got careless and he forgot that when someone tells you to leave well enough alone, you should do it. Speaking of, I thought you were going to head south, my girl.’

AD is standing there, grinning, his long arms crossed before him. I sink back one step, then two, into the shadows as he unfolds himself to pull a small square of foil from his pocket. ‘Good work, Tick,’ he says as he tosses it to the boy. ‘Though you certainly took your time.’





NINETEEN


The girl gasps – that is all. But in that quick intake of breath I hear everything: dismay, disappointment, fear. As near a sob as a hiss, and of much less use, as it broadcasts her vulnerability when she should be warning this man off.

These men. Although Care is focused on AD, focused on the boy, whose thin wrist he now holds, I see the two emerge from the shadows. The ruffians from before step up behind Care, blocking her exit. Blocking too any aid I might provide, though in truth in such a setting, I do not see what I can do. We are in the heart of the city, on a thoroughfare busy with traffic. And although the pedestrians flow like water around the five still figures, I cannot assume they would pause for me.

One woman, however, looks over. Care’s face is a mask of pain, and the woman sees it. She would speak, I think, were it not for the two enforcers. Brian – his face still showing the traces of my claws – glowers, and the woman ducks her head. Carries on, the drama on the street not of her making.

‘Tick?’ The girl has found her voice, and in that one word puts all her grief and longing. ‘What did you do?’

‘He grew up,’ AD answers for him, the boy himself keeping his head down. ‘Got himself more street smarts than you ever had, darling.’

I watch in frustration as the shorter of the two lackeys – Randy? – clasps a beefy hand around Care’s upper arm. He needn’t worry. She is not trying to run except, perhaps, to the boy, who has pulled free only to kick at the sidewalk before him, aiming one scuffed toe at a spot even I cannot see.

‘Tick.’ She is pleading, a note in her voice like the mewl of a nursing molly.

‘I told you, Care.’ He looks up now, no happier than she but at least, for now, unrestrained. ‘I told you to stay out of AD’s business. You didn’t have to get involved.’

‘What business?’ She twists in the villain’s grasp. It doesn’t break, and AD only laughs. ‘What does this have to do with you?’

‘Didn’t you hear what the old man said, Care?’ AD’s tone is softly mocking. ‘All that tricky talk about the balance being off? It’s all quite simple, really. Fat Peter had his fat thumb on the scales. He ripped us off once too often. Ripped off other people too, and not everyone is as forgiving as I am. Right, Tick?’

He clasps the boy’s shoulder, hard enough to make him wince. Care starts forward again at that, and this time the rat-faced one must pull her back.

‘Leave him alone.’ She’s getting angry now, fury focusing her earlier confusion and despair. From my place of safety behind the planter, I cannot see the color in her cheeks but I hear the steel coming into her voice. She is outnumbered here, however, and any of the three men could master her. I stare at her back, now as stiff as my own, and will her to control herself. To remember her training, which has stood her in good stead thus far.

AD pulls the boy close to him, his hand wrapping around that bony shoulder. I see the child look up at AD and then at Care. He appears to be near tears, although I do not understand the conflict that pulls at him.

‘It’s not that simple, Care.’ AD is smiling. He has gotten her where he wants her and is driving at some end I cannot see. ‘It’s no longer just up to me.’

‘I’ll drop it,’ she says. I can hear in her voice what this costs her. What she is willing to give. ‘Just let him go. I’ll drop the old man’s case and quit poking around Diamond Jim’s. I promise.’

AD laughs again but there’s something hollow in it. He’s doing it for show, although I do not know why.

‘The old man? That’s rich.’ He looks beyond Care to her captors and I brace for a further violation.

‘You always did have a wild imagination, girl. No, this is a simple case of a cheat being caught out. A thief who has to pay.’

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