hole in the basement floor to bury her, and then he was going to plaster over the door so no one would ever go down there again. But I messed up his plans when I came here to look for Hamlet.”
“Yeah, where is he? Where’s Hamlet?” Robert demanded.
Darla took a deep breath, the pain in her throat intensified by the sob she found herself holding back.
“He was the one who found Tera first,” she managed. “I heard him meowing in the basement. I ran down there to look for him, and he showed me where she was. When Barry went after me, Hamlet tried to save me . . . that’s why Barry had scratches on his neck. But then Barry hit him with a flashlight.”
She paused and then in a rush finished, “I-I think Hamlet’s dead.”
“No!” Robert’s disbelieving cry was that of a young boy. “Hamlet can’t be dead. I’m going to go see for myself!”
“Wait!”
Jake leaped to her feet and hurried to intercept the youth. He had dropped the bat and was headed for the basement, tears streaming down his face.
“Robert, I know you’re upset, but if there’s a body down there, it’s a crime scene. I can’t let you go trampling around there, even for Hamlet.”
“But what if he’s not dead? Ms. Pettistone said she didn’t know for sure.”
“He’s right. I-I don’t know,” Darla choked out, aware that her own tears had begun to spill in a similar storm of grief. “Please, Jake, let him look.”
Jake pursed her lips and then nodded. “Can you tell him exactly where you saw Hamlet last?”
“He was lying on the bricks. Barry picked him up and threw him in the boiler firebox.”
At her words, Robert’s grief-stricken expression turned murderous. He rounded on Barry, who had begun to moan and stir.
“Dude, you’d better hope that Hamlet is all right. My friend Alex Putin . . . he, you know, likes cats,” he threatened and ran to the basement door.
“Don’t touch the handle of the firebox with your bare hands,” Jake called after him as she returned to kneel beside Darla. “Fingerprints! Use your shirttail.”
Robert nodded and vanished behind the door. James, meanwhile, picked up the discarded bat and took up position near Barry. Cocking his head in the direction of the front windows, he said, “I believe I hear sirens.”
“About damn time,” Jake replied. She gave Darla’s hand a reassuring squeeze and said, “Hang in there, kid. The paramedics will be here in a minute, and we’ll get you to the hospital so the docs can check you out.”
Darla hugged James’s coat to her like a security blanket. In a small voice that reminded her of herself thirty years earlier, she rocked back and forth there where she sat on the floor and whispered, “I don’t want an ambulance. I want my kitty.”
As if in answer, a faint shout came from the basement. Darla couldn’t guess if it reflected Robert’s shock at seeing Tera’s body or if it was an indication that he’d found Hamlet. She hugged the coat more tightly, trying to tell herself that she didn’t care that all much, that she’d never wanted a cat.
It didn’t work. All she could see in her mind’s eye was Hamlet valiantly trying to hold off Barry so that she could escape from the basement, rather than slipping off into the shadows and leaving her alone.
Now, the emergency sirens sounded like they were just outside, so Darla didn’t hear Robert come back up from the basement until he abruptly emerged through the doorway. He was cradling a furry black form that lay limply in his arms, looking like little more than a large black pelt. Darla gasped.
“Is he . . . ?”
Is he okay? Is he dead?
She didn’t know which question to ask . . . didn’t dare ask either.
And then youth gave a tremulous smile. “He’s breathing. But we should, like, get him to the vet.”
The sirens abruptly cut off then, and over the shouted commands of the emergency personnel outside, Darla heard a querulous meow. The limp black form began to squirm, and a pair of emerald eyes blinked open.
“Hamlet!” Darla cried, or rather, tried to. Instead, what came out was a relieved sob.
Robert, meanwhile, had broken into a grin as the squirming was followed by another, more insistent meow. “Hey, little bro. What’s the matter? Do you want down?”
Gently, he set Hamlet down on the floor. The feline blinked and gazed around him, as if taking roll of everyone in