The Telltale Turtle (The Pet Psychic Mysteries) (22 page)

"Who's this guy with the swordfish?" Buck looked at the pictures on her mantel.

"That was my third late husband, Per Van Eppen. He loved to fish. He never kept any of them because he knew I wouldn't like it. I didn't like him catching them either, but there's only so much you can do to educate a person."

"What happened to him?"

"His helicopter pilot landed on top of him." She sighed as she poured tea for both of them. "It was heartbreaking."

Buck sat down at the table and grinned. "You don't have much luck with men, darlin'. I think you and I would be good together. I don't have much luck with women."

"What happened to your last wife?"

"She managed to shoot herself when she fell off her horse." He sipped his tea and made a face. "Do you ride, Mary Catherine?"

"No. Horses tolerate us because they think we don't know any better. They're a very old race, you know. They're very wise and tend to think of us like children. That doesn't mean we should enslave them to our bidding."

Buck laughed a full, hearty belly laugh that shook his shoulders and turned his already pink face red. "Honey, you have the craziest ideas! That must be what I love about you."

She smiled, feeling a little like a horse must feel about a human. "That and my market share. I'm sure that's an unbeatable combination."

There was the sound of footsteps stomping up the stairs. It was Jenny, of course. She had to be part horse herself. "I think we found it!"

"Can it be safely duplicated?" Buck seemed to stop breathing while he waited for an answer.

"Duh! There wouldn't be much point if we couldn't use it to make money."

"Is this a new partnership?" Mary Catherine asked.

"Fifty-fifty," Jenny said. "I think that's fair, don't you, Buck?"

"Whatever you say. I'm glad you made it work. Like I said before, you have talent, ma'am. Maybe you should come work for me.

Jenny laughed. "I'd like to, but this place would fall apart without me. We do a lot of good here, despite Mary Catherine always trying to undermine us."

Baylor shuddered and pushed his head under the pink chenille throw on the sofa. He'd heard enough about dogs being sick and dog food. Maybe they shouldn't worry so much about the dogs and more about who caged him. That was the important question.

Mary Catherine ignored him. "I guess congratulations are in order."

"What's even better is a family came in this morning who wants Bruno. I told them they had to wait a few days to make sure everything is fine. But imagine! No more bellowing."

"And my new and improved Meaty Boy is safe, right?" Buck demanded, taking out his cell phone.

"Yes. It was only the additional meat fat that upset the dogs' stomachs."

Mary Catherine didn't know how she felt about losing Bruno. It was for the dog's own good, but she'd miss him. "That's good news about the dog food, and Bruno"

"Don't forget your promise to talk to those vultures at the USDA," Buck reminded Jenny. "They'll still have to do their own tests, but it can't hurt to have a professional recommendation."

Buck and jenny had already gone downstairs when Mary Catherine heard a noise in her bedroom. Baylor's head popped out of the blanket. His ears perked up and he stared at the bedroom door. "Is that a mouse?" she asked him.

Baylor didn't think so. There was no mouse smell (she should know he couldn't tolerate that scent) and the sound was too loud for a mouse to make, in his opinion. He felt sure it was human.

Mary Catherine took out a small, pearl-handled revolver given to her as a gift by her fourth late husband. She didn't hesitate to approach the room, despite Baylor's warning that she should wait for help. "I think I'm capable of dealing with an intruder. You sit here and wait for me."

She tried to walk quietly across the squeaky wood floor until she was at the door. She could hear muffled moving sounds in the room. It sounded like someone was looking for something. There was a large window with a rusted metal stairway leading down from it, but she thought anyone would have the common sense to ignore it, even if they were bent on stealing from her. The stairway was a deathtrap she'd meant to have removed but had forgotten in her hectic life.

The revolver was firmly in her grasp as she opened the bedroom door. It was dark thanks to her heavy purple velvet drapes. She liked to sleep late sometimes.

The movement sounds stopped but she knew someone was in there. "It would be a good idea for you to come out now," she said to the room at large. "No one's going to hurt you, but you need to leave."

In answer, the chair from her antique vanity came up from the darkness and hit her in the face. She fell back to the floor, the revolver clattering on the wood. Baylor screeched and hissed, leaping at her attacker.

Mary Catherine was dazed and confused for a few moments. Baylor was hissing and she could hear muffled swearing. She tried to see what was going on, not able to communicate with her cat, but there was something in her eyes. She couldn't see anything until she wiped her hand across her face. The bright blood stained her hand. She was bleeding from a deep gash on her forehead.

Strong hands helped her to her feet and found her a kitchen chair to sit down. She assumed, even in her weakened state, that it wasn't her attacker. At least until she heard his voice. "Here, hold this wet paper towel on your head," Charlie said. "You might need some stitches in that."

"What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He crouched down beside her. "Every time you're in trouble, I show up. I can't help it. I know when things will happen. It's like you talking to animals, I guess, except less scary.

"For you, maybe." She winced as she tried to clean some of the blood from her face.

"I'm not kidding." He stopped her by putting his hand on hers. "That's a really deep cut. What happened?"

"You were sneaking around in my bedroom and hit me in the face with a chair."

He laughed. "There wasn't much point in sneaking around in there if you were out here."

"Don't try to sweet talk me. I know what happened."

"Not if you think I hit you with something." He glanced around the room. "Where's Baylor? He'll clear me on this."

She squinted, trying to look past the blood and her hair hanging in her face. "I don't know. I heard him attack whoever hit me with the chair"

"What makes you think it was a man?"

Mary Catherine stared at him. "I don't know. I guess a chair seems to be more a man's weapon. But I guess it wasn't you. I'm sure whoever it was has a face full of scratches." "

I came up the stairs from the clinic." Charlie got to his feet. "Did you leave this outside door open?"

"No" She stood up beside him, swayed dizzily, then sat back down. "Please see if Baylor's out there. I can't hear him."

Charlie checked the door and walked outside on the rickety landing. "I don't see anyone out here, including Baylor. But I think you're right-there's some blood out here on the stairs. I think your assailant came out this way."

Mary Catherine made herself walk to the door. She had to find Baylor. What if the man who hit her took him? It might be the same man who'd tried to cage him before.

"I think you better sit down before you fall down." Charlie eased her back into the apartment. "I'll get jenny and whoever else we can round up to look for Baylor. We should call an ambulance for you."

"No thanks. I'm fine. Head wounds bleed, you know. I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks."

"Well it looks awful, so maybe you could at least clean up a little and let us look for Baylor."

Her head throbbed painfully and her stomach threatened to heave. She wanted to trust her instincts about this man. "How do I know I can trust you?"

He shrugged. "We're a lot the same, you and me. I think we have to trust each other. And you said Baylor trusts me. I know that counts for something."

Mary Catherine acknowledged that it counted for a lot but she didn't tell him. "All right. I guess Detective Angellus couldn't find anything against you or he wouldn't have let you go."

"Angellus couldn't find his way out of a paper bag, but if it makes you feel better to trust him instead of me, okay. I'll go look for Baylor. You take it easy."

There wasn't much else she could do. It was taking every bit of will power she possessed to stand upright. She knew she wasn't affected that way by the sight of blood. It had to be the wound and shock.

She went into the bathroom, skirting the mess her attacker had made in her bedroom. What on earth was he looking for? It didn't make any sense.

This couldn't involve Colin. She'd thought for a while it did, but this was personal. Whoever broke into her home had ransacked every drawer in her bedroom. She checked her jewelry (her fourth late husband had been very generous), but nothing was missing, and she didn't keep any cash lying around. She couldn't figure it out.

Giving up, she turned on the bathroom light and looked at her face. Moaning, she realized she'd probably be horribly disfigured by the attack. Stitches might make the wound smaller, but she'd certainly need plastic surgery to ever look normal again.

Fortunately, most of the scar would be hidden by her hair. She cleaned her face and washed the blood from her hair. The cut was still bleeding, but not as badly. She found a large square bandage left over from an injury she'd received last year from one of Tommy's wild cousins, and covered the clean wound.

She didn't feel strong enough to take a shower so she washed up with a wet sponge and changed her clothes. That action made her feel a little better. She took the bloody clothes and put them in the trash can. She'd never wear them again anyway.

Mary Catherine wished she could walk downstairs, but her head was spinning. She wished she would hear something from Baylor, but right now, she couldn't even hear Bruno downstairs. She couldn't hear anything except the cars passing by in the street outside and the beating of her heart.

She sat down hard on the bed and realized she couldn't hear any animal voices. No crickets, no mice scurrying in the basement. For the first time in her life, she couldn't hear what any animal was thinking.

The realization took her breath away; or she was having a heart attack, she wasn't sure which. The terrible silence was worse than anything she could imagine. Even if Baylor was at her feet, she might not be able to hear more than the purr everyone else could hear.

It was like suddenly being blind or truly deaf What would she do if she wasn't able to communicate with animals?

She probably wouldn't have to worry about money. Her husbands' money that she'd stashed away would no doubt see her through. How long could a person live this way? She didn't want to think about it.

The outside door to her apartment opened. She glanced around, but her revolver was still on the floor in the living room. She'd seen someone use a can of hairspray as a weapon once but she was sure he also had a cigarette lighter. She'd given up smoking too long ago to even have matches. She wasn't sure if a candle lighter would do.

She started to pick up a piece of her broken vanity bench to defend herself when the bedroom door opened and Charlie walked in. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Mary Catherine threw the piece of wood at him. "I can't believe you walked in here without knocking! Suppose I'd been dressing?"

He grinned, then checked himself. "I was only thinking you might need some help. The thought never occurred to me that you might be half naked."

She wished her head didn't hurt so much. She enjoyed the little thrill of excitement his words brought. But in this case, it only made her want to vomit. "Did you find Baylor?"

"No. I'm sorry. I called Angellus. I can't figure how this all fits together, but I thought he should know. How's your head?"

"Not as bad as my heart right now" She knitted her fingers together in front of her. "I can't hear Baylor or any other animal."

"Wow! That must be scary. I don't always like what my gift brings me, but I'd hate to lose it. I'm probably the only man in the world who never has to look for his TV remote"

She smiled. "I guess you do understand."

"Jenny, Danny, and that weird cowboy from the dog food company are still out looking for Baylor. He'll turn up. And you'll get your gift back again."

"Are you guessing, or do you have a new gift for telling the future?"

"Let's call it a gut feeling."

Mary Catherine started to walk toward the door and the room tilted. She would've fallen except for Charlie's quick action. He caught her close to him and her arms went around him like they were meant to be there. "Thanks," she whispered.

"Not a problem." He smiled. "I told you that you needed me."

"You might be right." She allowed her eyelids to flutter closed as he leaned his head down to hers. She hoped there wasn't any blood left on her face. She hadn't been kissed by an attractive man in more than two years. Despite the headache and the queasiness, she didn't want to screw it up.