IT WAS TWO weeks later that the crime scene tape was removed from the remodel, allowing Ryan to pour new gravel and cement and finish up the work on that house. Later, while Fernando was shoveling dirt back into the pit, he stopped suddenly, looking down at a small plastic container lying in the freshly turned earth. He called to Ryan, and she picked it up with a tissue, wrapping it carefully. When she gave the inhaler to Dallas, it was duly bagged and booked in as evidence. The department found Ed Becker’s prints on it, though it would probably never be needed in a court of law.

Ryan and Clyde bought an old cottage in a crowded, hilly neighborhood not far from Lucinda and Pedric’s home, an ugly little place that anyone else would call a teardown but which they meant to give new life. And they weren’t done shopping yet, they were looking at a ranch up near the Harpers’ and who knew what else? Gently amused, Joe Grey put aside his misgivings about the project and turned his attention to other matters, leaving the newlyweds to their folly.

Kit didn’t see Tansy or Sage for a long time, though she looked for Tansy whenever she and Pedric and Lucinda went up in the hills to walk. Indeed, she didn’t see the two ferals again until the end of August, when the days were long and the weather had turned dry and hot. As Kit stood high on the hill above her resting housemates, looking up toward the ruins, she could see looking back at her a small pale smudge atop a jagged wall. Now Tansy seemed very far away, and they did not approach any closer. That was another world up there, so very different from Kit’s world, she realized. But still they were friends, they would always be friends, she thought, smiling.

But then suddenly, in what seemed a vision or a dream, Kit saw the tiniest speck leap up onto the wall beside Tansy, and then another, both little smudges as pale as moonlight. Then a third, and the three went frolicking along the wall, chasing one another. Then Sage was there, strutting a little and gamboling with his babies, and Kit laughed out loud. Tansy had made her choice, between an exciting life among humans and that frolicking family. And if still, deep inside Tansy, there burned a touch of longing for the wonders of a larger world, maybe she’d give those dreams to her babies. Maybe they’d grow up yearning, too.

And who knew where that would take them?

As for herself, Kit knew that somewhere in the world there was a tomcat filled with her own kind of dreams. That was the mate she wanted, a cat who was all fire and muscle and challenge, who had soaring dreams and the steady spirit to follow them. A tomcat with fire in his eyes, but with a steady gentleness and a joyful laugh. One day there would be such a cat. She could almost see him, maybe a great golden or red tabby cat with curving stripes, with eyes the color of moonlight and claws as sharp as sabers.

Kit thought about Joe and Dulcie, so happy in their love and in the work they had chosen. She thought about Christmas, soon to come, with all its ceremonies and pleasures. She thought about how wonderful and exciting the world was, and suddenly she was so filled with joy that she raced down the hill straight for Lucinda and Pedric, leaped on the wall beside them and raced along it and down again, running in circles, jumping over bushes and over nothing at all, racing like a wild thing-knowing, down deep in her own cat soul, that somewhere out in the world, that tomcat was waiting, and he was looking for her.

About the Author

SHIRLEY ROUSSEAU MURPHY has received seven national Cat Writers’ Association Awards for best novel of the year, two Cat Writers’ President’s Awards, the “World’s Best Cat Litter-ary Award” in 2006 for the Joe Grey Books, and five Council of Authors and Journalists Awards for previous books. She and her husband live in Carmel, California, where they serve as full-time household help for two demanding feline ladies.

www.joegrey.com

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