The doctor came out and said that was all he could do for Muffin right now. She is breathing, but lightly and her heart is working, but is still weak. “Now,” he said, “what about you? I can see you’re in pain.” So I told him about my wound and getting hit there hard. He took x-rays and gave me a good examination. There was nothing serious, but a lot of bruising on my lower back. He told me to take it easy for a few days. I told him that would have to wait, I need to find out who did this to Muffin. “I’ll say it a bit differently,” he said, “you need to take it easy, rest now, or you could end up not walking at all.” He seemed to be serious when he was talking. “Well,” I said, “as long as Muffin is in here I won’t be doing much.” “Good,” he said, “then maybe I should keep her here for a while.” He smiled and walked away.
Well, I’m quite sure he can be trusted, which is good since I have to leave Muffin here. I arranged to have Mr. Cat stay with Muffin, that will help Muffin fight harder and Mr. Cat can protect her too. And he can always get in touch with me. Caren and I drove back to her odd square house. I kept thinking about that place. Is this about the cats and I, or is it about that house? A house that odd must have some secrets, we just have to find out what they are. “At least you’re driving normally this time,” Caren said. “Steve, are you awake?”, she asked more loudly this time. “Oh, sorry,” I said, “just doing some thinking and I tend to lose track of what’s going on around me.”
“Um, maybe I should drive, so you can think, safely”, she said. “I’m okay,” I assured her, “I haven’t gone over the edge yet.” “Thanks,” she said, “that’s not too comforting.” Before coming back she bought new locks for the doors and I put them on right away. “No one is going to get through these locks easily,” I told Caren. “I hope not,” she said, “they were expensive.” “Sometimes you can’t worry about the cost,” I explained, “the purpose is to keep others out. Now, that cellar, what is down there anyway?” “I have no idea,” she said, “I’ve never been down there.” “You bought the house without looking through it all?”, I asked. “I looked through the house, kind of looked at the attic, but the sales person selling the house said it was just a typical dirty cellar, with nothing in it except some empty boxes.
Oh yes, the lady police officer did look down there when I made my complaint, but she said the same thing.” “Good,” I said, “then it won’t take long to look it over.” I got out my flashlight, just in case there were no lights working down there, then I opened the trap door in the floor. The stairs were steep, but remarkably clean. Caren followed behind me. There was a light switch at the bottom of the stairs. I turned it on and we both stood there staring around the cellar. It was one large, nicely furnished room, very clean and obviously had been here for some time. “Both those women lied to me!”, exclaimed Caren. “Yes, it would appear that way,” I said, “now the question is, why did they lie about it?” “That means the police are mixed up in this,” said Caren. “Well, it only means the one officer is mixed up in this, that’s why she checked this out herself,” I said.
Just then the laughing started and the trap door slammed shut! Caren screamed and almost knocked me over as she grabbed me. I really must remember this so I can be better prepared for the next time she hugs me. “I was expecting that would happen,” I said casually. “You expected it and still came down here anyway?”, she asked, “sometimes you’re hard to understand.” “Don’t worry,” I told her, “there must be another way out of here, this is how your stalker is getting inside.” “I don’t think this is making me feel any better Steve,” said Caren nervously, “what if he is watching us right now?” I plug in my little scrambler. “Well, at least he can’t hear us now anyway,” I said, and started looking around. “Um, what are you looking for?”, asked Caren. “A hidden door, there has to be one if people are coming in this way,” I explained. “Meanwhile the stalker is upstairs going through all my things again,” she said, almost crying.
To Be Continued.
©2021 Steve McLeod.