"What's the rest of it, Dulcie? You're leaving things out."

Dulcie sighed. It was no good living with an ex-parole officer; Wilma saw everything. She told her housemate about their search, but did not make much of it. Then told how Clyde and Chichi and Kit had gone in through Abuela's window and Clyde had cut the padlock and freed three captive cats. But Wilma sensed another lie of omission, and made her tell the rest, how she and Joe were locked in the cage, too. Then Clyde told how Kit had discovered where they were and brought him to rescue them. When they'd finished, Wilma poured herself another drink, stronger this time.

Sipping her bourbon, Wilma absently bound back her long hair into its usual ponytail and tied it with a piece of string from a kitchen drawer. "And they meant to sell those poor cats? They knew what they were, and meant to sell them! And to sell you!"

"We think it was more than that, too," Dulcie said. "The captives heard the men talking. Luis seemed to think they would tell someone about their robberies, and about some murder."

Wilma swirled the ice in her drink. "Could it be Dufio's murder? Oh, did Luis kill his own brother?"

Joe said, "Maybe Luis was afraid Dallas or Harper would trap Dufio into telling their plans, or into naming the gang members. Dufio wasn't famous for his quick wit." Joe licked up the last of the custard, and leaped into the fourth chair, rubbing his face against the edge of the table, smearing custard. Dulcie gave him a chiding look.

Joe licked his paw and cleaned his whiskers. "Luis and Tommie talked about 'the others.' Men apparently staying in half a dozen places around the village, rented rooms, the cheaper motels. Later, Kit heard it, too. From Chichi and Roman Slayter. Kit says Slayter is part of the gang."

"And Chichi, too." Wilma said. "Doing their surveillance."

Dulcie said, "If Chichi hadn't helped Clyde find us, we'd still be locked up. She didn't have to do that. And she was kind to Abuela." Hunching down in her chair, the little tabby sighed.

"Even if Kit did see Chichi spying, and heard them talking about the burglaries… Chichi did help us."

"Chichi had a close friend in L.A.," Joe said. "Frank something. I guess he was part of the L.A. gang. He was killed during that bank job Harper was talking about." The tomcat scowled. "It's frustrating when all you can do is listen, and can't ask Harper or Dallas what you want to know. Sometimes…"

Clyde set down his drink. "If you two start asking questions! If you…"

Joe smiled. He loved steaming Clyde, he could always get a rise, even when Clyde knew he was only goading him.

Clyde poured himself another drink. Wilma shook her head. "No more, I won't sleep." She looked at the cats and thought about what they had told her and wondered if she'd sleep anyway. She wondered how much more they hadn't told her. Though Joe and Dulcie were seldom as secretive as her parolees, she was too often aware that the two cats did not share everything, that too often they kept their own counsel.

Or, she thought generously, maybe they just wanted to clarify unanswered questions before they shared their information.

She was certain that, first thing in the morning, the cats would show up in Harper's office, to try to fill in the facts. She imagined them crouching high in Max's bookcase, listening or reading over Max's shoulder. She said, "Where is the kit? You haven't told me, and I need to call Lucinda."

But immediately she saw the dismay on all three faces.

"She didn't… She didn't come back from that house with you," she said slowly. She looked intently at Dulcie. "She… she went away with the ferals? Oh, she didn't go off with the ferals, with the wild ones?"

"They wouldn't run far," Dulcie said. "Not tonight. Those three were exhausted. They wouldn't take off into the cold night and the dangers of the hills without rest and food and fresh water. Kit wouldn't let them do that, they can't be far away. They were weak with stress, from being in that cage." She put a soft paw on Wilma's hand. "She's just gone along for a little while, to take care of them, find them a safe place to rest. And maybe," she said, smiling, "maybe to Jolly's Deli?"

Wilma said, "Would she take them home to Lucinda? To her own safe haven, to eat and rest before they run again?" And before Dulcie could answer, Wilma picked up the phone.

Lucinda answered out of breath, as if she'd been hurrying. Wilma punched the speaker button as Lucinda was saying, "… out on the veranda calling Kit. I swear, that cat… Is she there, Wilma? Have you seen her? Have Joe and Dulcie…?"

Immediately Wilma was sorry she'd called. What was she going to say? But now her foot was in it.

It took her a while to fill Lucinda in. Lucinda took it better than Wilma thought she might. The older woman was silent only a second. "The tree house," Lucinda said. "Our new house is empty, there's no one around. It would be safe there. Kit loves that tree house, she…"

Before Lucinda had finished, Clyde and the cats were out the door. "I'll call you," Clyde shouted back at Wilma; and they piled in the car and took off up the hills.

Wilma, alone in the house and strung with nerves, considered making herself another drink. Instead, she got a piece of cheesecake from the freezer and fixed herself a cup of cocoa. Sitting at the kitchen table waiting for Clyde's call, she could only think how incredible life was. Since Dulcie and Joe discovered their latent talents, and Kit appeared out of the wild, life was more amazing than she had ever dreamed.

She thought, amused, that one way or another, those three cats with their keen intelligence and insatiable hunger for criminal investigation would destroy the last of her sanity. Drive them all mad, either with the stress of keeping their secret, or with worry and fear for them.

But she couldn't be angry. She could only shake her head and smile.

From her wheelchair, Abuela stared defiantly up at Luis, her angry scowl matching his own. "They're gone! What could we do? We could do nothing. The man broke in, came through the window bold as brass and started sawing at the lock. When Maria tried to get out the door to get help, he swore and tied us up. Where was Tommie? Why didn't he hear us! He didn't come to help! That man threatened to kill us, and no one to help us. All that, over your mangy stray cats!"

"You're lying, old woman!"

"Who then tied us up? We didn't tie each other. And what do you think that is?" Abuela pointed at the severed padlock that lay on the floor among a scatter of cat litter. "Pulled those cats out, stuffed them in a bag and hauled them out the window. Said if we yelled or tried to use the phone, he'd do us, whatever that means. What did he want with cats? Why would he break in here, for cats? What did you want with them? Even you don't know!"

Behind Abuela, Maria remained silent. She was very pale, rubbing her arms where the belts had bound her. Luis stared at his sister and at his grandmother, picked up the lock and studied the severed pieces. "Where's the saw, Maria? What did you do with the saw! Why would you do this thing! You threw a fortune out the window! I swear, I should kill you both."

"I didn't cut the lock! Where would I get a saw! What did I do, cut the lock and then tie myself up?" Maria glared at Luis until she saw a spark of uncertainty. "Get out of here, Luis! Give us some peace! That was not a pleasant experience. There's not an ounce of sympathy in you." Putting her arm around Estrella, she peered down into the old woman's face as if afraid her abuela would collapse from fear and shock. "Go away, Luis, and leave her alone. You've done enough harm."