Jane Goes Batty

Jane was holding a pet carrier of the kind used to take cats or small dogs on airplanes. Entrance was through a rectangular opening on the top, and mesh panels on all four sides let in air. The bag was unzipped and waiting.

Lilith had moved farther away from the porch. Miriam watched her as she explored the garden. “Go pee, sweetie,” she called out to the Chihuahua.

Lilith ignored her, smelling a clump of lavender and moving on. She spied a butterfly and barked at it, sending it fluttering away. Lilith chased it as it came toward the peonies.

“Just a little more,” Byron said softly.

“Lilith!” Miriam called. “Not too far!”

“Shut up, old woman,” Byron hissed.

Lilith was only a few feet away now. The butterfly had flown off, but the little dog had found something new to investigate. She’s a nosy thing, Jane thought. No wonder Miriam uses her as a spy.

Miriam’s voice rang out again. “I’m going to get my hat,” she shouted. “You stay right here.”

“Now’s our chance,” said Byron. “Ready?”

Jane nodded. As the back door shut Byron reached through the bushes and grabbed Lilith. The dog gave a sharp yip and tried to bite his hand, but Byron held tightly as he pulled her through the leaves and dropped her into the open bag. Jane zipped it shut as Lilith snapped at her fingers.

“Go!” Byron said.

They dashed out of the garden and made their way around the side of the house. Byron’s car was parked on the street parallel to Walter’s, and they had to cut through a neighboring yard to reach it.

Jane jumped into the front seat just as Miriam’s voice rang out. “Lilith! Lilith!” she cried. “Come here!”

In the bag Lilith growled. Byron started the car, drowning her out, and drove off with a whoop of triumph. “We got her!” he said.

“But what are we going to do with her?” asked Jane.

“I told you, we’re going to interrogate her,” Byron replied.

“I thought you were being metaphorical,” Jane said. “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” said Byron. “I told you, we can communicate with animals. What did you think I was doing back there?”

“Sitting behind a bush,” Jane said.

“I was using my ability to call the dog,” Byron said. “Honestly, do you ever listen to me? When I said I was going to use an ability, which one did you think I meant?”

“It’s just that I didn’t hear you,” Jane explained.

“That’s because it’s all done in here,” said Byron, tapping his head. “You don’t actually speak to them. Well, you can, but why bother when you can do it psychically?”

“So what has Lilith told you?” Jane asked.

“Nothing yet,” said Byron. “I used a very gentle call to get her to come to us. I haven’t actually spoken with her yet.”

“Miriam is going to be frantic,” Jane said. “I feel bad for Walter. She’ll probably make him drive all over town looking for the dog.”

“That’s not our problem,” Byron said. “We just need to find out what she knows.”

Because they suspected that Miriam and Beverly might be watching their houses, and because they didn’t want to cast suspicion on Lucy or the twins by involving them in the dognapping, Jane and Byron had rented a room at a motel outside of town. They went there now, parking the car behind the main building and walking quickly to room 119. Lilith had stopped growling and was now resting quietly in the carrier.

Once inside, Jane set the carrier on the room’s lone queen-size bed as Byron drew the curtains closed. He then turned on the overhead light, casting a yellow glow over the walls, which were painted a sickly coral color. It also did no favors for the faded brown carpet, although for some reason it improved the painting affixed to the wall over the bed—a poorly done scene of what Jane imagined was supposed to be a Mexican village market.

“Let her out,” Byron told Jane, with a wave at the pet carrier.

Jane glanced at the carrier. “Are you sure?”

Byron nodded.

Jane approached the bed and reached for the zipper on the top of the carrier. Lilith remained quiet. Cautiously, Jane unzipped one side, then an end, and then the remaining side. As soon as the carrier was open Lilith sprang out with a loud growl, landing on the hideous pink-and-brown-striped bedspread. Her three legs acting as a tripod, she glared at Byron and Jane, her teeth bared and her small ears sticking up. Jane backed away, but Byron calmly sat in one of the room’s two tattered armchairs.

“Now then,” he said. “Let’s give this a try. Jane, you should be able to listen in.”

“Me?” said Jane. “I can’t communicate with animals.”

“I believe you can,” Byron replied. “Tom and Jasper tell me they sometimes get flashes of it from you.”

“Tom and Jasper?” said Jane, shocked. “My cat and my dog talk to you about me?”

“Don’t worry,” Byron said. “They haven’t said anything unpleasant. To the contrary, they’re both fond of you. Although Tom would like you to know that he doesn’t appreciate being called Mr. Fuzzybum. Just so you know.”

Jane wanted to find out what else they’d said about her, but Byron was focused on Lilith, so instead she asked, “What do I do?”

“It’s similar to when you go invisible,” said Byron. “Empty your mind and focus on Lilith. Let her thoughts enter your mind.”

“That’s a little vague,” Jane said, taking a seat in the other chair and keeping her eyes on Lilith, who was looking from Jane to Byron as if deciding which would be easiest to take down.

“It’s one of those things that can’t really be explained,” said Byron. “It either happens or it doesn’t. It helps if you make eye contact with the animal.”

Jane tried. She looked into Lilith’s eyes and tried to empty her mind. At first all she heard was the little dog’s growl. But after a minute or two she thought she understood some words. She concentrated harder and the words came again.

“Oh my,” Jane said. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“So you heard that,” said Byron. “She has a filthy mouth for such a cute dog. Were you able to hear what I asked her?”

Jane shook her head.

“Try again,” Byron said.

Jane took a deep breath and once again focused on Lilith’s eyes. For a few seconds she heard what sounded like static. Then Byron’s voice cut through.

“Who is Miriam Ellenberg?” he asked.

“You know who she is,” said a high, thin voice that could only be Lilith’s.

“What is Miriam Ellenberg?” asked Byron.

“Why should I tell you anything?” Lilith replied.

“Because if you don’t I’m going to put you back in that carrier and toss it into the river,” Byron told the little dog.

Jane was horrified. He wouldn’t do that, she thought.

“Good to know,” said Lilith. “Thank you, Jane.”

“You’re wel—” Jane began.

“Jane!” Byron’s voice was sharp. “A little discretion, if you please!”

“Sorry,” Jane said aloud.

“Don’t speak!” said Byron. “Just think. Only don’t think about anything you don’t want overheard.”

Immediately Jane began thinking about exactly those things.

“Ted and Ned?” Lilith said.

“Stop thinking!” Byron commanded. “Or focus on something to mask your thoughts. A poem or song, anything to occupy your mind.”