Crowbones

CHAPTER 59

Grimshaw

Earthday, Novembros 4

Grimshaw called Osgood, then sat in his cruiser to wait for the rookie to show up for work before he headed out to the Mill Creek Cabins to find out about the missing professor.

The cat bothered him. It bothered him enough that he pulled out his wallet, stared at the paper with the phone number, then made another call.

“Yes?”

He wondered if Stavros Sanguinati was watching him from some dark corner. “Would an Elder kill a cat? Would any form of terra indigene?”

“Was the cat threatening one of its young?” Stavros asked.

“Doubtful. It was a small domestic cat.”

“Was the Elder hungry?”

“A cat that size wouldn’t even make an appetizer. But the cat’s blood was used to write a message on the steps of the government building.”

“Are you sure?”

Grimshaw stared at the government building. He didn’t doubt for a moment that the message was written in blood, but something about the way the cat’s head had been shoved into the hollowed-out belly bothered him. And now that he thought about it, the way the words had been misspelled bothered him too.

Getting out of the cruiser, he walked over to the corpse. As it was Earthday, none of the government offices were open. Employees usually used the back entrance anyway since there was a parking lot behind the building, so they might not notice the “encouragement” that had been left out front. Would Roundtree call someone to remove the carcass and wash off the steps before the offices opened for business tomorrow?

Or was the mayor foolish enough to think he’d take care of that?

He crouched, reached—hesitated. Then he pinched the cat’s neck with two fingers to pull the head up and . . .

“Crap.” He released the neck and stepped back. “It’s a fake,” he told Stavros. “Some Trickster Night prank using a hollowed-out toy.” But a high-quality toy with realistic faux fur that could fool a person at first glance—especially if that person was more concerned about the rest of the tableau.

“Ah,” Stavros said. “That is good news for the cat. But it leaves you with a problem.”

“Yeah, I know.” Grimshaw ended the call and returned to his cruiser.

He had a problem, all right, because something had been bled to leave that message for Mayor Roundtree—and as he considered the way the words had been misspelled, he wondered if a human was, or humans were, trying to implicate the Others in order to cause more trouble in Sproing.