This week's instalment comes from Catherine Leggitt
(To read the story from the beginning click here.)
Callan and I stared out the window
at the commotion in the garden, which seemed to have escalated to a cacophony.
Peta and Margaret, faces inches apart, gestured and ranted at one another,
though I couldn’t make out their words.
The rest of the family resembled
circling vultures.
“Looks like they need a referee.” The
smirk in Callan’s eyes belied his serious tone.
Dare I leave The Her alone?
“Hurry.” Callan waved me out. “I’ll
guard Her.”
From the bed, The Her beseeched. Get rid of them. The chest rattle now a snare
drum. There wasn’t much time left.
Leaving Callan with The Her, I
headed for the garden, Hector padding close behind. I pushed through the screen
door, letting it pop-bang shut, and I spoke above the din. “What’s going on out
here?”
Margaret bellowed. “Why should Peta
make decisions about my mother?”
Her mother. Me. “What decisions?”
My gaze bounced between them.
Margaret squeezed her lips shut.
Peta narrowed her eyes to slits, a
familiar trick to keep me from reading her thoughts.
“Come on. Out with it.” The Her’s
life depended on haste.
“Peta talked to Dr. Marigold.”
Margaret blurted. “Aren’t doctors bound by confidentiality?”
They are, of course, but Peta had
her ways, abilities Margaret knew nothing about. “And?” I said. “What did he
say?”
“She said… he—,” Margaret teared
up.
“Oh for granny’s sake,” Bree
interrupted. “Peta wants to have you put into a nursing home.”
Hector hissed, then vaulted onto
Peta, claws extended, completely deranged.
“Get this bloody beast off me.” She
slapped at Hector with bony hands.
I wrenched Hector off of Peta,
though it wasn’t easy. “He’s never done that before.” He relaxed in my arms.
Herb and Greta, my daughter’s
in-laws, snatched up their belongings, mumbling about rabid animals. Klaus
scurried after them. “Come along, children,” he called to his teenagers.
Margaret lingered to give me a hug.
“Never mind, mother. We’ll sort this out later.”
Peta’s beady eyes probed the house.
Nose in the air, she sniffed. “She’s inside. Don’t for a moment imagine I won’t
find Her.”
Memories of Peta’s temper left me
speechless.
With a hard look, my cousin
flounced to the kitchen.
Callan stood behind the screen
door, face ashen. “She’s gone.”
Catherine Leggitt is the author of the Christine Sterling
Mysteries, PAYNE & MISERY, THE DUNN DEAL, and PARRISH THE THOUGHT published
by Ellechor Publishing. A native Californian, Catherine raised two daughters,
taught school, and cared for aging parents before retirement drove her to the
keyboard. These days Catherine crafts suspenseful and convoluted
plots—exploring God’s mysteries through fiction.
3 comments:
The Her is gone, the princess has vamoosed? My turn is coming. Could someone please find her? Thanks for such a dramatic turn of events, Catherine. This is fun!
Oh Noooo!
Gone as in vanished or gone as in dead?
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