she was right in her assumption—been watching her, then? she wondered. Had she been in any kind of danger?
Some time before dawn, just as the light began to seep through the cracks between the drapes, she finally managed to fall asleep, though it was a restless, sweaty sleep that did her little good. An hour and a half later, Smokey woke her. He was meowing at least, no longer wailing. After struggling up, Lake let him out of the case to eat and use the litter box. She blocked the pet flap with a wastebasket—though it was hard to imagine him ever wanting to go outside again. By seven she had him back in the carrying case and next to her in the front of the car.
There was only one car in the parking lot, so she wasn’t surprised to find the animal clinic empty except for a man sitting on the edge of the reception desk, drinking coffee from a cardboard cup. When she entered he looked up from the magazine he was reading and nodded. He was no older than thirty with a pleasant, slightly doughy face.
“Morning,” he said warmly. “I’m Dr. Jennings. How can I help?”
“Someone’s done something awful to my cat,” Lake said. “They—they shaved most of his fur off. He—his name’s Smokey. He’s calmed down now, but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t injured.”
The vet wrinkled his face in surprise and concern.
“Okay, why don’t you bring him back this way,” he said, cocking his head toward the back. He picked up a clipboard from the desk. “You’ll need to fill this form out—the receptionist doesn’t come in for an hour.”
She followed the vet down the hallway to a small exam room with a stainless-steel table that dropped from the wall. Jennings set the carrying case down on the table.
“Okay, Smokey,” he said softly, unzipping the front of the case. The cat snarled and tried to claw him, but the vet expertly scooped him up and held him in a way that was instantly calming.
“My God,” he said, glancing at Lake. “Who did this to him?”
His voice seemed cooler now, and she wondered if he was suspicious of her.
“I think it might have been teenage boys,” she said quickly. “I thought I heard a few of them laughing near the house just before Smokey came in. They may have been out cruising, looking for trouble.”
“You’ve called the police?”
“Um, no, not yet—no. But I will, of course.”
Jennings looked back down at Smokey and began to run his hands over him carefully, feeling for any kind of fracture perhaps. His eyes followed his hands. Finally he looked back up at Lake.
“I think you’re wrong,” he said soberly.
She froze, confused. Was he challenging her, suggesting that she was lying?
“What do you mean?”
“It’s too complicated a job for teen boys. You could never shave a cat this smoothly unless it was sedated first. The cat would freak out and you’d never get it to stay still.”
“Are you—? You’re saying this was calculated?”
“That’s my guess. I hate to say this, but do you have any enemies? I mean, has one of your neighbors been complaining about the cat lately? People do awful stuff to other people’s pets if they’re annoyed by them. They poison them, set them on fire.”
Lake’s body sagged in dismay. “All my neighbors are friendly,” she said. “And they’re not even here this weekend.”
But her mind had begun to catch up with the truth: this was no random prank. Someone had planned this out. And the goal had been to scare the bejesus out of her.
“How could the person have tranquilized him?” she asked.
Jennings shrugged. “He could have left some food outside with a sedative in it.” He glanced at Smokey again and ran his fingers over the cat’s body. “Oh, wow.”
“What?” Lake said.
“Here,” he said, pressing his finger just in front of a red dot on Smokey’s upper back. “It looks like he’s been given an injection.”
Lake caught her breath.
“Look, I’ve clearly scared you,” the vet said. “Would you like me to call the police?”
“No, no,” Lake said. “I appreciate it but I know the cops in my town. I’ll do it when I get home.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.” He glanced back at the cat. “Let me just finish my exam and make sure that Smokey’s okay.”
After grabbing an instrument from its holder on the wall, he looked into Smokey’s eyes. Lake sat down on the small stool behind him, her mind racing.