Take the Monkey and Run (13 page)

“She calls her partner,” Hugh said before taking a bite of his muffuletta.

“Exactly. She calls Barry and tells him I stood her up.”

“Unless he's with her,” Emma said.

“That would be even better.” I glanced from face to face but was pretty sure Kai was the only one getting where I was going. I could tell, because he was shaking his head.

“No, Grace. You'd have to be too close to Coco to eavesdrop on the conversation.”

“I can be a lot farther away than any of you.”

“I agree with Kai,” Emma said. “It's too risky. Plus, remember what happened the last time you hung out in an animal's head for too long?”

I didn't, exactly, because I'd passed out.

When I didn't say anything, Belinda looked around the group. “Somebody going to fill me in?”

“I blacked out.”

“For, like, twelve hours,” Emma added.

“How close do you have to be to an animal to get into its head?” Belinda asked.

“It depends. Fifty feet?”

“Would be pushing it,” Kai said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay,” Belinda said. “Less than fifty. That's doable.”

“What are you thinking?” I asked her.

“We'll go incognito.”

I smiled but shook my head. “It worked in the Quarter but I don't think costumes would be incognito in this neighborhood.”

“Who said anything about a costume? I'm talking about leather chaps, baby. For me, anyway.”

Belinda walked over to a small coat closet near the laundry room, opened it, and pulled out a bright green futuristic-looking
leather jacket. It was padded at the elbows and shoulders with what looked like hard plastic.

I didn't get it, but I was the only one.

“You have a bike?” Emma asked.

“A Harley Wide Glide.” She winked at my sister. “What else?”

“Sweet.”

I peered out the glass-paned door into the courtyard where the bicycles were parked and noticed for the first time the tarp-covered object in the far corner.

I looked back at the jacket, finally recognizing it as the motorcycle gear that it was.

Belinda handed me the jacket, turned, and reached into the top of the closet.

She pulled out two helmets—one continued the green and black theme of the jacket, while the other's graphics were less . . . stylish.

“Whoa,” Emma said, coming to stand next to me. “Very—”

“Rainbow Brite,” I said.

She shook her head. “Rainbow Brite didn't have a unicorn.”

“Yes, she did,” I countered.

“Nope.” Emma took the helmet from Belinda and turned it this way and that, admiring the rainbow that swept over its surface and the leaping unicorns on either side. “Starlite was a talking horse. No horn.”

“She's right,” Belinda said. “He was the most beautiful horse in the universe. But you . . .” She reached out and slid the iridescent, mirrored visor into place. With it down, it would be impossible to see my face. “Will be incognito.”

Kai was not overly enthusiastic about the plan, but even he had to admit it was the best we were going to come up with on such short notice.

Basically, we'd mapped out four points around Veronica's apartment that would allow us to see Anya's approach and departure.

Each of us would take up our positions and communicate via a group phone call.

Fifteen minutes before Anya was due to arrive, everyone was in place.

Emma had the easiest post: seated with the Pomeranians at a coffee shop a block from the apartment. Anya had met my sister, which meant she was also incognito. Belinda had covered my sister's shoulder-length dark hair with a long, wavy auburn wig and given Emma a crocheted, forest green, slouchy hat to wear.

That, along with a pair of giant sunglasses, did the trick. Even I wouldn't have recognized her if we'd passed on the street.

It hadn't been as easy to come up with reasons for everyone else to be loitering.

We'd decided Hugh would drive Bluebell, drop Kai, Emma, and the dogs at their positions, then park several blocks away. He would then use one of Belinda's bicycles—easy to transport in Bluebell—and ride to his position across the street from the apartment.

Hugh pretended to be repairing a flat tire. Kai stood near the corner and talked on his phone.

Belinda and I were waiting on the opposite side of the block, where I was going to try to connect with Coco and hopefully overhear something useful.

When Anya decided to leave, Belinda and I would follow, keeping the rest of the crew informed as to our location until they could get to Bluebell and join in the pursuit.

You know what they say about best-laid plans?

Yeah, things started to unravel about two seconds after Hugh spotted Anya.

You see, there's one thing you can't know in situations like this. The variable. Which, of course, was Anya.

We could neither accurately predict nor influence her behavior. And none of us saw what was coming.

As a group, we were able to communicate via an app
that allowed conference calls. Emma had a set of ear buds connected to her phone and was pretending to listen to music.

Kai acted like he was having a conversation, while Hugh, crouched next to his bike, used an old-school wireless earpiece.

Belinda and I had it easy. Both helmets had built-in audio. We could both talk and listen without pretense.

“I see her.” Hugh's voice sounded in my ears. “Across the street from my location. Headed toward the apartment.”

I wondered if we should all say 10-4 or something. Kai answered my question by saying, “Copy that.”

“Me, too,” Emma said.

“Hang on—she's still walking. She passed the apartment. Kai?”

“Stand by,” Kai said. “Okay, I have a visual. She turned the corner at the end of the block. Emma, she's headed your way.”

I tensed.

“I see her,” my sister said. “Walking right toward me.”

I wanted to tell my sister to run, but knew that would be the worst thing she could do.

“Stay calm, Emma,” Kai said. “She probably just wants a coffee or something.”

Seconds dragged by.

The leather of Belinda's jacket squeaked in my grip.

The Bluetooth speakers gave me nothing but random ambient noise.

Almost without being aware of it, I started to reach out to connect with the dogs. But stopped when I heard my sister say, “Come here, precious.” Her tone was saccharine and she'd turned up the drawl of the light, Southern accent we share to mimic that of Paula Deen. I could hear her making kissing sounds and the happy panting of one of the Pomeranians.

It would've been funny, picturing my sister smooching a dog, if I hadn't been so worried.

“I'm clear,” Emma breathed, finally. “You were right, Kai, she went inside.”

Belinda and I let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Keep your head down, Emma,” I said.

“I've got Elvis in my lap. When she comes back out, I'll pick him up again. She won't see my face.”

“Should someone go over there?” Belinda asked. “Just in case?”

I was thinking the same thing. I knew Emma could handle herself. I'd seen her face off against a psychopath with nothing but a roll of duct tape and win. But still . . .

“Em?” I asked.

“No.” Emma's voice was quiet but calm. “I'm fine. Everyone stay where you are. We can't risk making her suspicious.”

“You got this, Emma,” Hugh said.

“Of course I do.” Her voice changed abruptly. “Yes. Cuz you're a good puppy, aren't you?”

The sudden switch in my sister's tone was the only indication we had that Anya was on the move. After a few giggles—yes, really—I heard my sister say, “She's headed your way, Kai.”

“You're sure she didn't spot you?” I asked.

“She didn't recognize me, but she sure gave me a disgusted look when Elvis was licking my face. I have to say, I completely understand. Belinda, do you brush his teeth? Even Moss—”

Kai's voice interrupted my sister's lighthearted ramble. “Anya just turned the corner. She's moving toward the apartment.”

Hugh followed with, “I see her.” There was a long pause. “Okay. She's walking through the gate to Ronnie's place.”

“That's my cue,” I said.

“Grace, don't try to talk to us while you're in Coco's head,” my sister warned. “It's too much of a strain.”

“Got it. I'll see you on the flip side.”

My whole life, I've been dealing with mental interlopers. I learned early how to shield myself from an animal's
thoughts and feelings. After all, I can't help a panicking cat if its fear overwhelms me.

The reverse is also true. My nerves were still freshly abraded by the close call with Emma and I knew I'd have to calm down before jumping into Coco's head.

I've also learned to compartmentalize and isolate negative emotions. I took a second to compose my thoughts and tried to marginalize my own anxiety, locking it away in a little imaginary room with a big metal door.

Once the door was secure and my mind was calm, I reached out to the cat.

It was a bit of a reach, like standing on tiptoe to get a jar off the top shelf and feeling your fingertips brush the side. You have to gently, carefully nudge the jar closer before you can get a grip on it.

That's what I did with my mind. Reach. Touch. Gentle pull. Gotcha!

Coco
. I spoke to the cat over the threads of our mental connection.

The cat perceived my presence and looked around to see where I was.

I'll come see you soon. But right now I need to stay put. Okay?

Stay?

Coco was lounging on the kitchen counter, waiting for the faucet to be turned on. She loved standing in the sink and drinking from the long, thin stream of fresh water.

Yes. Stay there and I'll come turn the water on for you in a little while.

It can be tricky to express the idea of a future event to an animal. Their concept of time is completely different from a human's. With such precise internal clocks, why would they want to understand hours and minutes?

Anyone with a dog who's tried to take advantage of the extra hour of sleep during daylight saving time will understand
what I mean. I can express the feeling of something happening in the future or ask about the past but it was hit-or-miss whether the critter in question was going to get it.

Luckily, Coco did, and was happy to hang out and wait. With Coco on board to stay on the counter, I slipped a little more deeply into the cat's head.

Being inside an animal's mind can be very weird, to say the least. Everything is different. Vision is both heightened and muted. I can hear everything. And smells—well, there's a lot of stuff I'd rather not experience olfactorily, but in for a penny . . .

A rhythmic vibration caught Coco's attention. I knew, because Coco did, that someone was walking toward the stairs.

Moments later I could hear the footsteps as they climbed toward the second floor.

Coco watched as the door opened and Anya stepped inside.

The woman looked around, noticed the cat, frowned, and looked at her phone. Probably checking the time and getting aggravated that I was late.

Anya began to pace while intermittently looking at her phone and taking a sip of her to-go coffee. This went on for an indeterminate amount of time. I couldn't be sure, as I was in Coco's head.

Finally, Anya lifted the phone and made a call.

“She is not coming,” she said a moment later.

With my Coco-enhanced superhearing I could understand most of what was said on the other end, and I was pretty sure it was Barry. “You're sure?”

“Yes. I told you she was lying. This has been a waste of time.”

“Maybe you should wait—”

“No, I'm not going to sit here. There is too much to do.”

Hanging up, Anya turned to Coco.

“Do you know something, kitty cat?” she asked as she walked into the kitchen. “You have not helped us at all.”

Setting the coffee on the counter, Anya began stroking Coco's uniquely patterned fur.

“I do not tolerate things that are of no use.”

Anya stepped back to regard the cat, then reached into her jacket and calmly pulled out a gun. I watched, horrified, as she pointed it at Coco.

“They call you a bull's-eye tabby, don't they?” Her blue eyes glinted as they swept over Coco's coat. “Bull's-eye. A perfect name.”

Anya would have to be off her rocker to pull the trigger. Not just because she'd be shooting a sweet, innocent cat, but because she'd be discharging a firearm in a place where someone was sure to hear the gunshot.

Logic aside, the look on her face told me she really wanted to do just that, and I wasn't about to take any chances.

Digging in as deeply as I could into Coco's mind, I urged the cat to get ready to move.

Coco responded by gathering her feet under her. But she still wasn't sure where we were going.

Speed would be the key. I needed to light a fire under Coco's relaxed kitty butt.

Turning my focus back into my own mind, I grabbed the big, metal door holding my fear at bay and yanked it open.

I shoved all of my fear, all of my panic, into the cat. At the same time I ordered—
Run!

Coco didn't hesitate. She launched herself off the counter, hit the ground, and was out the cat door like a rocket with fur.

I didn't want her to be so frightened that she ran into the street, so I eased back.

Easy. It's okay, Coco.

Coco made a beeline up and over the back fence into the neighbor's yard and in less than a second was crouched under a large azalea bush.

“Grace? Hey, you still with me?”

“What's going on, Belinda?” I heard Kai's voice in my ear and I realized I'd started to slide off the motorcycle.