hands over the orange fur. She gasped. Blood covered her fingers. “Her front leg. It’s broken.”
On the other side of the highway, Ben spat in the gravel. “Get away from the stupid cat or I’ll shoot you, too!” He added a string of hate-filled words.
“She might try to fight you.” Adam slipped his backpack off. “We’ll have to put her in here so we can both get on the bike. We’ll be halfway to Grandma’s before he makes it back up the driveway.”
Lexi’s face contorted as she slid her hands under Pansy. The cat moaned. “We’re going for a ride, sweetkins, just like always. We’ll take you to the doctor and he’ll fix you up and—” Pansy hissed. The claws on her good paw splayed and raked Lexi’s arm. Lexi flinched but didn’t pull away. “Come on, girl, I know it hurts, but we have to do this to make you better.” As she talked, Pansy settled like a wilting flower. Lexi eased her into the pack. “It won’t be long, baby, we’ll get you—”
The gun fired. A pellet grazed the gravel less than a yard behind Lexi’s feet. Lexi’s eyes shot wide.
“You two get away from that blasted cat or—”
“Madsen! Are you insane?” A screen door slammed. Herb Klein stomped out of the house next door. “I just called the police, and I hope they slam your stupid hide in jail. Of all the crazy … Adam? Lexi? You okay?”
“We’re fine. Pansy’s hurt. Could you call my uncle and tell him to come get us?”
“You bet. You two come over here until he gets here. Madsen, put the gun down or I’ll go get mine.”
The gun clattered to the sidewalk. “It’s just a stupid toy.”
“Tell that to the cat. And the cops.”
Finally. A witness. Jake stood with his arms around Adam and Lexi, staring at the broken butterfly clock and listening with quiet joy as Herb regaled the blue-uniformed officers with tales of Ben’s rages. He’d witnessed Ben smacking the cat onto the concrete and repeated numerous threats he’d heard through the screens in the past week.
“You guys know I’ve called before, and I know you can’t do much if all he’s doing is yelling, but I always said if that”—he stopped, clearly searching for a cleaned-up word—“if I ever saw him hurt a hair on either one of those kids I’d—”
“We appreciate your call, Mr. Klein.”
Ben played down every accusation. He spoke to the officers as if they were old drinking buddies. “You know what the pressure of single parenting is like. Sure, I lose it once in awhile.” He painted a picture of a poor, bereaved man doing his best to raise his late wife’s children to be upstanding citizens. “I wasn’t shooting to hit the cat. It’s my daughter’s pet, why would I want to hurt it? I was just putting a little fear into it. Not like I used a shotgun, you know. I shot it off just for the noise and the st—cat turned at the last second and got in the way. I’d never hurt a fly. Just ask my kids.”
The female officer nodded. “We will.”
Jake couldn’t read their faces. He had no idea if they were buying the story. He gave his address and phone number and said the social workers could pop in anytime. They’d find the kids happy and cared for.
Finally.
Maybe there wouldn’t even be a trial. Maybe the county would just step in and award the kids to him.
“Jake?” Lexi leaned into him. The tears that dampened his shirt were for the cat alone. “Can we take Pansy to the vet now?”
The female officer nodded. “No more questions for now.” She gave Lexi a maternal smile. “Hope Pansy’s good as new in a few days.” She looked up at Jake. “And I hope things go their way.”
The officer pointed to the front door. “Let’s go, Mr. Madsen.”
CHAPTER 16
Lexi walked through her grandparents’ back door and into Grandma Blaze’s outstretched arms. “We had to leave her until Monday.”
Pansy’s surgery had lasted almost an hour. Jake left in the middle of it to take Adam home, but Lexi wasn’t budging. The vet promised she could see Pansy as soon as the operation was finished. So she’d waited. She had to be the first face Pansy saw when she came to. And she was.
Next to Mom dying, walking away from Pansy was the hardest thing she’d ever done. When the anesthesia fully wore off, Pansy would wake up in a cage. She’d