Lost and Found (7 page)

She
shut her eyes for a second
and
then pulled off her coat and tossed it aside. She flicked on the flashlight and tried to hold the beam steady, but her trembling hand wouldn’t cooperate.

Maggie dropped down on her stomach and scooted under the house. Crawling on her knees was impossible in this closed in space, so Maggie pushed with her foot and slid across the gravel and dirt while holding the narrow light in front of her. She paused a few feet
in
and scanned the area around her
,
but no cat, just shadows and darkness. “Here kitty, kitty… Chester
,
where are you?” She knew she sounded angry, but how did one manage to sound happy or caring at a time like this? She never could pretend. And the damn cat
,
if he was smart
,
he’d never answer, not to her. Then she heard
a
“
meow
,” of course the mewing was way over at the far end of the crawl space. Maggie waved the flashlight and changed directions
,
pushing hard until the light danced over the orange calico huddled in the corner. Then she slowed and approached cautiously, the last thing she needed was for the cat to bolt deeper in
to
the shadows. One goal—get the cat and get the hell out.

“Chester baby, I’m coming.” This time she really did sound happy. She swapped hands with the flashlight, and the cat rose as if to bolt. “Oh no you don’t.” Maggie reached out and grabbed a handful of hair at the cat’s neck
,
and it went ballistic. She dropped the flashlight as Chester screeched and clawed. Maggie locked both her arms around the cat holding it against her chest.
Then
somehow grabbed hold of the flashlight and moved, keeping her face tilted away from the wild
ly
striking razor sharp claws as
Chester
struck out again and again. At least it was easier going back as the outside light illuminated the opening where June crouched.

“Is everything all right
,
dear?”

“Fine.” She yelled while holding onto the squirming demonic beast clawing and biting
,
trying to break free.” Maggie tried to hold his paws and spit out the cat
’
s fur swirling in clumps in her face, lips, mouth.
The cat continued to h
iss,
spit
,
and
claw.

Maggie slid out from under the house and dropped the flashlight
.
She got
up on her knees holding the cat away from her as it sliced at her arms.

“Oh no Chester, it’s all right.” June reached for her cat and cuddled him to her chest
,
transforming the furry monster
in
to
a
sweet angelic kitty, purring in the old woman’s arms.

“Oh Chester
,
you’re bleeding.” June’s voice had an edge of worry.

She
stood up and held her arms
out
in front of her. Sleeves rolled up
,
she glanced down at the tiny slits where blood oozed in several spots up her arm and then over to the orange tabby, with spots of blood dotting the orange furry strands.

“Oh don’t worry June
,
that’s my blood.”
She
glared at the cat. The cat turned its head toward her.
She
stumbled
,
and she’d swear the cat smiled and winked. She had nothing against cats, but
knew with an absolute certainty she’d never in this
lifetime own one.

“Oh thank goodness.
He
really did
claw
you good.” June’s concern for her animals was touching. She had a small dog, a cat, and a budgie in the house.

Maggie picked up her coat and carried it. She shivered as the tiny cuts began to burn.
“June
,
if that cat goes under the house again
,
I’ll shoot it.”

June giggled as Maggie hobbled away.

“Oh stop teasing
.
Thank
you so much for getting my baby out.”

June’s humble appreciation took some of the edge from
her
anger. Until she glanced back and met the cocky gleam in the cat’s eyes.
You go under that house again
,
you
’ll
stay there till hell freezes over
. This time
,
she
winked at the cat,
and
then forced a smile on her face for June. “You’re welcome.” Maggie cut across the front grass with a forgotten Daisy nudging her leg.

“Maggie
,
do you want me to take a look at those cuts for you?” June called out.

She
didn’t stop or look back. “No thanks
,
June. It’s just a few scrapes nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of them myself.”

“Call me if you need anything
,
dear.”

She
gave a passing wave over her shoulder as she hurried home
.
Never breaking
stride
,
she snarled at her broken car, popped open her front door
,
and the
gray
weather stripping peeled
off the doorframe and smacked her on the side of the head just as she crossed over the threshold. “Great
,
one more thing to fix in this damn rental.”

She flicked on the lights
,
locked the door behind her
,
and froze in front of the entry room mirror. She had several bloody nicks around her neckline and jaw
and
up both arms. Until she saw them, the sting wasn’t too bad. Now looking at them, they burned.
She
dropped her coat
,
stripped off her clothes
,
and hurried down the hall to the shower.

Steam filled the room
,
and
she
squealed each time the warm spray made a direct hit on one of
the
many wounds, and there were lots. But she figured it was the best way to clean them out.

After she toweled off, she applied antibiotic ointment on all the cuts. “Holy shit that hurts
.
Ow…
ow
…
ow!” Hopping around on one foot, she panted until the sting receded. Then
she
held her arms stiffly as she took a good hard look at her wounded reflection. “Damn fucking cat. Why do I need to save the day?” But she already knew the answer.
With any
kindness paid to her by someone, she felt the need to pay back ten times
,
and then some. Otherwise
,
she wouldn’t be able to sleep. And as of late, no matter how hard she tried
,
she
couldn’t get past it.

Richard called seven times
the next
morning before Maggie went out, and
she
let everyone of
the
calls go directly to voicemail. She couldn’t talk to him, not after yesterday. Because yesterday
,
they’d met at his lawyer’s office to discuss settlement prior to the divorce.
She
had been so worked up before the meeting because of their illicit tryst against the kitchen wall—afraid Richard would bring it up and somehow block the divorce.

She
chewed on a piece of nail hanging from her thumb. “Think, think.” But try as she might
,
she couldn’t make sense of what happened in that boardroom as she sat beside her lawyer, across from Richard. And the only thing she was clear about was how much she hated that
God
awful painting of some ancient battle
and resulting
carnage that appeared to take up half the wall in that male dominated boardroom
.
She remembered
not one word of what was discussed, decided
,
and agreed upon.

Today her head was clear, thank goodness. Maybe this was her wake
-
up call. And while Diane, a state trooper and her friend, hadn’t questioned her yet on what came out of yesterday’s meeting, she knew before this day was over
,
Diane would know everything.

A branch snapped over to her left. Dressed in full cammie gear with a loaded paint ball gun in hand, Maggie peered over the log she crouched behind. She stared into the thick brush but couldn’t see anything. Then something rustled the underbrush about
a hundred
yards in front of her. Her hands were damp as she gripped the loaded gun. Her heart pounded in her chest
,
and the adrenaline roared long and loud in her ears.

Diane
told her
when she picked her up this morning this was exactly what she needed. It would be therapy and so much fun. But crawling around in the dirt and hiding behind a rotted out log as something tickled her back was not in her
idea
of fun. “Oh this is just great.” Branches snapped
,
and it sounded right in front of her. She peeked over the top of the log just as two large guys approached all decked in faded green cammie gear. She suppressed the urge to giggle, and propped her loaded gun on the log and waited for them to come closer. Then she pulled the trigger and nailed both of them
boom, boom
,
with bright orange paint dead center in their chest.

“Yah, yah, got you
,
now you’re dead.” Maggie held her gun high over her head and jumped up. Then
,
what the hell…
whack, whack
—both
the
big guys battered her with paint balls. Maggie dropped her gun and covered her head with her arms to ward of
f
the stinging welts
as
they continued to fire, and she ran.

* * * *

Maggie limped and yanked a twig from her hair as she followed Diane, a short compact woman with
a
boyish brown cop cut
,
to her brand new Toyota SUV.

“Jesus girl, you don’t mess around with those SWAT guys like that, they really take it personally.”

Maggie said nothing
,
remembering how Diane mentioned this morning how
the
SWAT guys they were playing war with today, were the ones you sent into a problem scenario with the big guns—situations no one else wanted to handle. And for some reason
,
they took offense to Maggie hiding under the log waiting
…
their quote to Diane, “
…to
ambush them.”

They said it was nothing personal when they smiled and sauntered away a few moments ago.
Assholes
, Maggie wanted to yell at them, but stifled the urge when Diane yanked her from the small frame clubhouse of Sequim’s paintball club.

Maggie snorted in disgust and massaged her battered shins while Diane drove out of the parking lot.

“Maggie, how many times have I told you
?
You don’t mess around with guys like that
.
They
operate on their own agenda. They don’t believe the same rules apply to them. Remember our little stint? We didn’t follow the rules
.
Lord,
when I think back on what you and Marcie did, gathering that marijuana for Dan, you’re lucky you didn’t end up in jail.”

Maggie was aware, but she
couldn’t
honestly remember all the details when she helped Marcie get Dan’s marijuana. After his threats,
it was
the only way to protect her husband and Sam from being set up for some unspeakable crime. She was forgetting a lot of things lately
.

The
n
she remembered the SWAT guys talk
ing
about the incident at Waco this morning, and the fact
it
would never happen to them. Diane translated their meaning when Maggie questioned her as they left the clubhouse after gearing up. Many cops believed the same rules civilized societies deemed to live and abide by, didn’t apply to them. And even worse
,
a few of them honestly believed they were entitled to make up their own rules.

“Oh
,
okay,” was all Maggie could say.