'A tag-team. Yeah, I like that.'
He claps Derrick on the shoulder, forces a grin. He knows the hardest thing about getting away with murder is disposing of the body, and having a mortician under his thumb makes things a lot easier. Still, there's no way he'll ever let Derrick see him in action. He might have to get rid of him sooner than expected.
'Hey, I'll call you when I drop the ears off at County.'
'Make sure you wash them, first. I don't want to leave trace.'
'Got it. See you, man.'
Derrick climbs into his van and pulls away. The killer takes a deep breath, sucking in foul alley air that reeks of garbage.
It doesn't bother him at all.
Nothing does.
Chapter 9
'That cat's driving me crazy.'
Herb pushed away from the computer and shot Mr. Friskers a look. Mr. Friskers howled his reply.
'He probably wants to be let out of the carrier.'
'I'd sooner let Manson out. What are you going to do with him, anyway?'
I rubbed my temples, trying to work out the tension. We'd gotten back to the station two hours ago, and the cat hadn't shut up for any longer than it took to catch his breath.
'I've called all of Davi's model friends, her ex-boyfriend, and her mom. No one wants the cat.'
'What a surprise. He's such a lovable bundle of joy.'
'I also called a few pet stores. Apparently the heat wave doesn't affect a cat's promiscuity -- the stray population is the highest it's ever been, and no one is accepting any more cats.'
Herb stroked his mustache, an indication he was lost in thought.
'Stray . . . that's not a bad idea. Just let the little monster free to prowl the city. That's what he's howling about anyway.'
I considered it. On one hand, a cat that wore diapers probably wouldn't last too long on the street. On the other hand, Mr. Friskers was so damn mean he might do fine. I wouldn't even put it past him to join a gang and start robbing banks.
'Fine. We'll release the cat into the wild. You coming?'
'I'm staying. Kiss him good-bye for me.'
I picked up the carrier, which caused Mr. Friskers to increase the pitch of his howling. A brief, chilly elevator ride later, we were in the back parking lot.
'Okay, my loud friend. This is where we go our separate ways.' I unlatched the door on the cat carrier and opened it up. 'Go. Be free.'
Mr. Friskers stayed where he was.
'Go on. You got your wish.'
The cat howled again, but didn't move.
Figuring he just needed a little help, I lifted up the cat carrier and tilted it forward. The cat spread out all four paws and clung to the sides, refusing to be dumped out.
I knelt down and peered into the carrier. 'What's the problem, cat?'
He stared back, as if asking me the same question.
I thought about leaving him there. He'd get the hint eventually. Chances are he'd run off as soon as I was out of sight.
Then I thought about my mother.
Sometimes the ones who need help the most are the ones who refuse to accept it.
'Fine,' I said, latching the carrier door. 'You're stuck with me, then.'
He yowled his reply.
Herb wasn't impressed to see his nemesis still hanging around.
'I thought you were going to let the cat out of the bag.'
'I did. He wouldn't go.'
'Did you try poking him with a stick?'
'No, I didn't. Maybe I should check a taser out of the armory and zap him a few times.'
'Want me to go get it?'
'I'll save it as a last resort.'
Herb took a bite out of a rice cake. He made a face, found a packet of saccharine in his pocket, and dumped it onto the remaining half.
