Salem's Daughters (13 page)

Chapter 17              Emergency Meeting

Emily Livingston called an emergency meeting for the cats in the basement of Murcat Manor. DeShawn Hill was kind enough to place animal doors throughout the bed and breakfast, including Bob and Debbie’s bedroom and the basement.

The cats had free reign, except for the guest rooms on the second floor. Emily jumped up on a storage shelf five feet off the basement floor. She focused on a dozen large cans of fruit cocktail and, with a swift wave of her paw, easily tipped them over.

They rolled off the edge and clanked onto the floor, making space for her to assume her position as leader of the twelve cats, her multi-gemmed collar displaying her authority over the extraordinarily gifted felines.

The twelve followers sat on a long workbench in groups of three. Rebecca, Chloe, Scarlett, and Isabella clustered with the two cats in their charges. That was the pecking order. Emily was the leader. Rebecca, her best friend, was second in command. Rebecca, along with Chloe, Scarlett, and Isabella, were responsible to keep the other cats in line.

Emily was seething. She looked down on her gathering, angry for the deed one of the four groups had so flagrantly performed without her permission. Some of the felines stared off in the distance. Others licked their paws. Not one looked Emily directly in the eyes. Discipline and respect were not their long suits.

“Alright, which one of you did it?”

She glared back and forth at the silent cats who continued to look in every direction but hers.

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it. This is serious. We agreed not to kill anyone during this, our sixth life. And now, there is a dead man in the front yard. All it took was a couple minutes as Debbie held me in the kitchen while you all ran off. For the sixth life of me, it is incomprehensible why one of you did this.”

More silence.

Emily knew this was really defiance. She leapt across the shelf onto the workbench and paced back and forth, stepping over scattered power tools. “Hmm, who could have done it? Let’s see now.”

She stopped in front of her second in command and looked deep into the eyes of Rebecca. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Rebecca sighed, as she playfully patted a live mouse between her paws.

“Who killed him,” Emily hissed.

“Certainly not us. And by us, I mean Annie, Jacqueline,
and myself. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

Jacqueline and Annie nodded in agreement, still refusing to look at Emily. They moved close to Rebecca and watched as she played with the mouse.

Emily would not be detoured by their insolence. “Rebecca, you have the ability to start fires, heat things up, and make blood boil. Jacqueline can freeze things. And Annie can speed or slow down just about anything, including a person’s heart rate. So tell me. Where were you?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes in an overt display of boredom. “We were in Bob and Debbie’s bedroom messing with a few loads of clean laundry Debbie had stacked nice and neat on their bed. You’d be proud of us. We scattered clothes everywhere.”

Rebecca stared down on Emily. “Which brings to question, where were you?”

There was a united chorus of hmmms among the twelve as they nodded in agreement.

"Stop it. You know I’m the one trying to keep us from making the same mistakes we committed in our past five lives.”

“Can we go now?” Rebecca said, sounding insulted at being cross-examined.

“No.” Emily continued to pace, then stopped at Isabella. “Your group’s turn. Telepathy and illusion casting is your strong suit. Rachel has the gift of astral projection. And Madelyn has one of the smartest brains on the planet.”

Isabella and the other two giggled.

“Oh, you think this is a big joke, do you? Tell me, where were you three?”

Isabella casually licked herself on her shoulders. “Who us?”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Hey, take it easy, will you? We were with the workers installing ceiling fans in the bedrooms upstairs.”

“They’re always petting us,” Rachel said.

“And they bring us treats,” Madelyn added.

Emily strutted to Chloe,
the only ginger colored cat of the group. “Of course. My cousin and blood relative. I should have asked you first. You can move or levitate objects short distances. Midnight can teleport herself anywhere in the house, including the roof top of Murcat Manor. And Helen,
she’s quite adept at reversing or cross connecting things. This is too easy. Give me the what, how and why.”

Chloe stared at Emily, expressionless. “Oh, just stop it? You always think you’re so smart. Yet, once again, you have to go through three of our groups before you find the real culprit.”

"That's because you're all too good at this."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Emily walked over to Scarlett. “I should have known.” Scarlett backed up, Angel and Esther trying to hide behind her.

“Okay. Why’d you do it? And how? Wait. Let me guess.”

Emily strutted back and forth before them, her tail in a curved arc swaying back and forth.

“I presume I have this. And don’t even think of running off. Angel, your specialty influencing people’s dreams.”

Angel shrugged, as if she didn’t care she was found out. “I was simply looking out for his best interests.”

“His? Or yours.”

“Please allow be to elaborate. DeShawn Hill had just taken a short nap in his truck. I thought he should know how dangerous it was to work three stories up and not to have someone holding the ladder at the bottom. Especially with three witches from four centuries ago who have an itch to kill. But, he had a deadline to meet and foolishly ignored his dream.”

“And that’s all you needed, right?”

Angel laughed. “What more do I need than an opportunity? That, and the stupid things stupid people do.”

Emily walked around Scarlett, rubbing up against her and brushing her tail in her face. “Then you threw a bout of madness, causing Hill to freak out for a few moments. He lost all touch with reality.”

“Only for a few moments,” she said as if this interrogation was an extreme bother.

“Ah, and finally we have Esther. You, who have the power to release energy from inanimate objects, causing sudden bursts of energy.”

Esther licked her front paws. “Only on a very small scale. You know that.”

“But enough to push the ladder backward.”

“I used the metal on the family crest from the cross Hill was fastening to the roof. I converted a small portion to energy, just enough to thrust the ladder away from the house and cause him to fall to a horrifying death.”

Esther’s eyes twinkled with sinister glee. “But here’s the real kicker. I could have caused him to drop to his death. But I forced the ladder straight backwards.”

Emily shook her head. “I’m not following. So what.”

Esther rolled her eyes. “So, this means it looks like the ladder was pushed with great force.”

“I’m still not following.”

“Stay with me. It’s as if someone, like, oh, let’s just say Boring Bob, did the pushing. A fact I’m sure Darrowby and his Neanderthal sidekick won’t miss."

The other cats gave their support and congratulations to Esther.

“Stop it, all of you. Esther, are you proud of yourself?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, duh? Need you even ask?”

“That’s it? That’s all you can say?”

“What else do you want us to say?”

Emily jumped back to her shelf and took her place as head of the cats. “Look, I know it’s tempting to use your powers and work together and kill people.”

“Oh, it’s so easy,” Midnight said. “Even though we lack opposable digits.” She held up her paws. “Look mom, no thumbs.”

“That’s why we need to work together,” Annie said as she sashayed across the work bench. “And we’re bored. I mean, come on. Has there been anyone more boring than Bob, ever, in all of our lifetimes?”

“Stop it, all of you. You know we can’t do this again. This always turns out badly.”

“Yeah. For the humans.”

“And for us. We’re already on our sixth lives. Only three more after this, ladies. Then it’s all over. Then we’ll be stuck in the cold, dark Netherworld forever with countless screaming lost souls.”

Emily now had their attention. The twelve cats hung their heads in shame.

“Now promise me. No more killing people. No matter how hard you’re tempted.”

Emily watched as her dozen followers one by one raised a paw and reluctantly agreed.

“Oh, one more thing. Try to warm up to Bob, regardless of how boring he is.”

“We are,” Rebecca said. “Just last night I fell asleep on his face while he was sleeping. Debbie thought it was adorable and took a picture with her cell phone, then sent it to Erma.”

“But you’re faking it. All of you are mocking Bob.”

“And he doesn’t even know it. Neither does Debbie.”

Chloe spoke. “And I left him a special
care package
in his shoe last week.”

Everyone was laughing hard. Except Emily.

“Is this meeting dismissed? I’m bored,” Rebecca said as the mouse she was playing with almost got away. She trapped it again between her paws.

“Hey sis, aren’t you going to kill and eat that thing,” Annie asked.

“No. You eat it.”

“Disgusting. Give me a steak any day to gnaw on.”

“As long as we’ve been cats,” Rebecca said, “and we’ve certainly taken on some of their characteristics, I’ve never developed a taste for dead mice or birds.”

“Good thing Debbie feeds us normal people food,” Scarlett said.

The mouse started to rise. Rebecca held its tail to the table with her paws to keep it from floating away.

"Chloe, stop fooling around,” Emily said. “I know you're levitating that mouse."

“That is so cool how you do that,” Annie said. “How much can you lift?”

Chloe puffed her breast with pride. “I can raise fifteen pounds and should be up to twenty by the end of the summer. But it takes all my strength. I need a few minutes to recover after raising something that large. It’s exhausting.”

Rebecca let go of the mouse’s tail and stared at the rodent as it rotated in the air in front of her face. She tapped it with her paw. The mouse moved forward about a foot, then Chloe guided it back in front of Rebecca’s nose and made it to again rotate.

Rebecca was captivated by the slow gyrating rodent when it exploded into a ball of fur and shredded red flesh. She jumped high with a screech, her back arched and hair standing on end. The rest of the cats erupted in laughter. She landed in the same spot and frantically wiped the rodent gore off her face with her paws.

Rebecca stared down Esther. “Real mature. Look at the mess you made. So gross.”

Esther tried to stop laughing. She took a deep breath, held it, then let out a long roll of laughter.

“Stop it. All of you,” Emily cried out. “Esther, I demand you cease causing things to explode. You helped kill DeShawn Hill. Now the mouse. I mean it. No more.”

Emily could feel the meeting slipping away from her.

“Can we go?” Jacqueline said.

“One more thing. Madelyn, since you’re the only one of us that can read past a fourth grade level, I need you to keep studying anything you can. Bob’s laptop. Books. Magazines. The world has changed so much since our last lives. And technology has made this information readily available. Anything you can learn, especially about science, can only help us better understand our abilities, and thus use them more effectively.”

She had their undivided attention now.

“But let me make it clear. We will not use them to kill people.”

Undivided attention gone.

Helen yawned deep. “I want to take a nap.”

“Me too,” Madelyn said.

They had their taste of first blood in this life. Emily had more to say, but she knew no one would stay and listen.

“Okay, ladies. Let’s get out of here. But I mean it. No more killings,” Emily said as she watched the twelve cats already dispersing in various directions.

Chapter 18              Open for Business

Bob gazed at the farm themed calendar on the kitchen wall. Roosters and hens were the country motif of the month. It was Memorial Day weekend. Saturday morning. The summer season had officially begun. Murcat Manor was now open for business.

He and Debbie had put DeShawn Hill’s death behind them as best they could. All their hard work was about to pay off. And not a day too soon, since the first payment of eighteen thousand dollars to the bank would be due in thirty days. Insurance, food, and utility bills would follow.

The sound of a car pulling onto the gravel driveway told Bob the first guests had arrived.

Debbie jumped up from her kitchen chair, a printed list of the ten families in her hand. “Bob, they’re here. I wonder which family it is. I bet it's the O’Dells from Toledo. Or maybe it’s the Parkers from Fort Wayne. Oh, I’m just so excited.”

Bob opened the front door as an older Ford pickup truck pulled up to one of the round wooden posts designating a parking spot. Debbie gasped and muttered, “Oh my.”

Bob looked at the rust around all four wheels. One of the doors was a different color than the rest of the car. The hood was held down with a bungee cord. Red duct tape covered one of the broken rear parking lights.

He placed his hand on the small of Debbie’s back and led her out onto the front porch. "Um, well now dear, they had the money to pay for their stay, okay? Let's be nice, and welcome our first guests."

Bob watched as three children piled out. Triplets. Red haired, freckled faced, pasty-skinned boys all under the age of ten. Their energy demonstrated they’d been cooped up in the truck for a long time.

They ran past him before Debbie could say ‘hi’ and into Murcat Manor. Within seconds the sound of screaming cats filled the air. Something glass broke.

“Looks like the cats have met their match,” Bob said through a wide grin.

“Hello,” came a loud boisterous voice. Bob turned to see the parents approaching. He was large with a barrel chest and beer belly. Bob wondered if the buttons on his dreaded flannel shirt would pop at any moment.

She was dressed in tight loud clothes and bright cheap jewelry. Poorly red-dyed bushy hair flopped down across her shoulders.

Debbie whispered in his ear, “I’m amazed she can walk across gravel with those cheap high heels.”

The beer bellied man stumbled up the porch steps. “We’re the Barnetts. Eugene’s my name. And this here’s my beautiful and bodacious wife, Beatrice.”

“Looks like we’re the first ones to break in the place,” Beatrice said, avoiding eye contact and chomping on a wad of gum.

Bob smelled alcohol on their breath. He looked at his watch. It was barely eleven o’clock in the morning.

“Well, won’t you come this way,” Debbie said. “I’ll show you to your room. Bob will bring your luggage.”

Bob looked at the pickup bed. There must be a dozen pieces of mismatched luggage, all held together with duct tape.

He sighed. This was one detail he hadn’t thought through, hauling luggage for ten families across a gravel parking lot and upstairs, then taking it back to their cars when they left. It was already hot and humid. As he entered the front door balancing five of the suit cases, he heard something else break. Three cats scampered between his legs and out the front door.

Once in the foyer and at the bottom of the stairs, Bob dropped the luggage at the sight in front of him. He should be mad as hell with three uncontrolled kids terrorizing the American Shorthair felines. But he was enjoying the scene. Two more cats scampered to safety outside.

Debbie stepped next to Bob. “Do something,” she whispered. “There’s a soccer field in our backyard.”

Bob tried to stifle a chuckle. “Are you kidding? This will humble those cats. Maybe they’ll stop messing with my laptops and the stack of utility and mortgage statements.”

She elbowed him. “Take the luggage up to the Roadhouse Blues Room, dear.”

Bob looked at Beatrice Barnett standing in her way-too-tight jeans and high heels, hands on hips, chomping her gum, staring off into the ceiling. Eugene somehow managed to have an opened beer in his hand and grabbed her tush. Beatrice snapped out of her daydream as he chased her around the living room, both laughing loud and obnoxious.

“I’m glad they’re not staying in The Love Machine.”

Debbie couldn’t refrain from snickering. “No way would I launder those sheets. I’d have to burn them in the back yard.”