That sobers him up. He rolls his eyes but gestures towards the door. “Fine. You can drive. I’ll ride with you.”
I gulp at his concession and eye his impressive height, mentally comparing it to my equally tiny Honda. But then I shrug. That’s his problem, so I lead the way out to the parking lot. Before he wedges himself into the car, Howler strips off theleather vest, wads it into a ball, and tosses it into the back. “Don’t let me forget that later.”
“You can’t be too warm,” I state acerbically. I’m freezing in flannel; he has to be at least chilled.
Howler snorts. “It’s a bet. If I win, we get land for a new rescue center complete with a small veterinary clinic for spay and neuters along with basic care for the rescues. Worth freezing my ass off.”
I nod, trying to process all that while driving as quickly as I can get away with. His extra weight in the car has changed how it handles, so I’m having to concentrate.
We pull up to the curb fronting the side of the graveyard, and sure enough there are a few flashlights bobbing about. “You stay here,” Howler growls and exits the car. I hesitate, but it’s not very long before I shut the engine off and climb out, intent on staying well back but still keeping tabs on the situation.
2
“Stupid ass punks,” I mutter to myself as the kids scatter, abandoning everything in their frantic attempts to get away. Like rats fleeing a sinking ship. I glance at the kittens even now crawling over the side of the cardboard box. I’ll have to round them up later. I go after the slowest kid. He’s a little overweight, and by the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he’d worked harder in gym class.
I scoop him up by the back of his shirt and hang him from a nearby tree. “I wouldn’t move too much if I were you,” I warn him. “You’ll break something falling from a height like that.” It’s only a couple of feet, but his eyes are wild with fear.
He sputters something, but I don’t stop to listen as I’m too busy hurdling gravestones on my way to idiot number two. He’s faster but appears to have forgotten where the entrance is in the long wrought-iron fence. I press him up against the bars anddecide two is good enough for the cops to work with. One of them will rat out their friends.
Reaching into my jeans pocket for my cell, I glance over my shoulder. Only to see Candy Cane Girl scurrying about trying to find the kittens, I presume. It’s only the white of her pajamas that’s caught by the streetlight over on Pine.
“Fuck,” I growl and pull the kid away with me and start heading back to the scene of the crime.
“Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car?” I scowl at her even as the kid in my grip tries to wiggle away.
“Well yes, but… I figure you need some backup. And… I don’t suppose you have a flashlight?”
I sigh and shake my head. “The cops will help find the kittens after these punks are in the back of the squad car. If you want to help, call 911 and report this so I can keep a tight hold on this idiot.”
She pales slightly but then nods firmly, reaches into her small crossbody bag and pulls out the smallest cell phone I’ve ever seen.
“What is that? Like a toy phone?” I ask in astonishment.
She shakes her head with a grimace. “No, it’s just not a smartphone. I gave up mindlessly scrolling for New Year’s last year.”
“Huh.” I stare at her. I’ve never felt the need to scroll through anything, but then I’m sure her childhood was very different from mine. She pushes the button for emergencies, and I wait, curious to see how she’s going to describe the situation.
“Um, hi, this is Ariel Townsend? I’m in the graveyard at Pine. My uh, associate just apprehended two kids that were about to do despicable things to some kittens.”
Despicable. I would have used a different and much ruder word, but I suppose that fits. I’m more interested in learning that her name is Ariel. It suits her. Although how the hell shelanded in the police academy is making my brain turn in knots. She’s got a righting-wrongs, streak of justice thing going on, but she seems too timid to be effective at it.
And I know that for sure when the kid I hung on the tree jerks free and tackles her, probably trying to distract me enough to allow his friend to flee, but it just makes me mad. I grab him with my free hand and haul him off Ariel.
She pushes up slowly with wide eyes. “You okay?” I ask as gently as I can manage.
Ariel nods. “I’ll be alright.” Flashing lights interrupt any further discussion of her lack of awareness. Particularly when one of them, moving his high-power flashlight over the scene, recognizes her.
“Ariel? What the hell are you doing out here? Does your uncle know you’re here?”
She shrugs and rolls her eyes, averting them slightly in the bright light. “Hi, Tommy. Sort of? He’s the one who suggested I contact Howler here.”
And with very little ceremony, the kids are placed in the back of separate patrol cars, and then the paperwork begins. Ariel tells the whole story from the beginning, all while looking around impatiently. “Look, Tommy, can we do this part after we find all the kittens? I really need your flashlight for that.”
With a resigned sigh, Tommy keeps control of his flashlight but does help locate the five kittens, none of whom had wandered too far although they did do their best to scatter. I end up with three of them and Ariel two.
“Don’t adopt them out until you get the okay from headquarters,” Tommy, who is actually Seargent Thomas Johnnsen, warns.
I nod, familiar with that drill. They’re quasi-evidence until all legal matters are concluded, but the cops don’t want to be responsible for feeding and litter boxes.
