TIME'S RELATIVE
Excerpts from Chapter Four | Chapter Six | Chapter Nine

Chapter Four Excerpt

The detective's voice took on that serious note again which was signaled by an even lower raspingness. "When I was called on the Oldsfield case, I investigated Jane Oldsfield's home and found nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed like she just got up one day and left without taking anything with her."

"I read about that in the paper."

"Yes. Well, there's stuff that didn't make the papers. Detectives usually don't like releasing all their info to reporters. I've been doing periodic checks on the house to see if anyone comes or goes. We can't make any claims on the place yet because we have to wait the seven years to file a missing person's death report."

"I thought you told me you hadn't seen Jane Oldsfield since she disappeared in July."

"I haven't, but I've seen her cat. Or, rather, I've seen a cat hanging around the place. What makes it so unusual is that every time this cat shows up, something disappears from the house - an article of clothing, a book, a piece of jewelry. Most of it is unnoticeable at the time, but I'm very thorough."

"Was it gray?" Sam asked tossing her fork in her plate and finally abandoning the salad. "The cat you saw; was it a large gray Tom?"

Now Montmart was suspicious. "How did you know that? Miss Stewart, uh, Sam, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Jane said it belonged to Parsons. She called it Floppy - said it worked for her."

The detective raised a gray eyebrow. "Cats don't work for anyone. They're not like dogs. My pitbulls work for me, and I reward them. Cats expect the rewards without the work. That's what makes them different from dogs."

"Smarter you mean," Sam said wondering how the topic had digressed to animals.

"Not necessarily, but wiser."

Chapter Six Excerpt

"The sunroom is this way," he said from behind her. Sam turned and saw him walk toward a French door to the right. Beyond, she could see the late afternoon daylight filtering in bathing the wood floor covered with an Oriental carpet in burnished shades of copper. She joined the detective, who was looking out on an enclosed gazebo- like porch that contained wicker chairs and pots of exotic green plants, which Sam knew she wouldn't be able to pronounce, even if she knew their names. A botanist she was not.

Philip slid the glass door to the left and walked out. He hadn't invited Sam ahead this time, nor had he asked her to follow. She wondered why until she noticed he was crouching and then saw what he was after. Seated on one of the wicker chairs was the familiar gray cat.

Sam went after the detective on tiptoe as not to disturb the cat. She found the man's movements comical, as he got down on the cat's level and reached a hand out to pet it. "Here, Kitty, Kitty."

The cat was rolled in a hefty gray ball, eyelids shut in sleep. When Montmart touched it, it opened its right eye to reveal a narrow yellow slit.

"He's awake," Sam whispered. "Are you going to question him?"

The detective kept his eye on the animal and his position on the tiled floor immobile. "No," he replied in a matching whisper that sounded like sandpaper being lightly brushed. "I want to catch him and bring him back with us."

Both eyes were open now as the cat stretched out its white front paws, raised its head, and yawned revealing a very pink mouth full of sharp incisors inherited from its wilder relatives.

"He seems friendly enough, but I don't know if it's a good idea. Jane seems to be able to cast him back in time whenever she wants."

Montmart kept petting the cat slowly, as he edged closer intent on the capture. "She's just a good magician, Sam. I want to find out where her strings are. The cat could be the key."

Chapter Nine Excerpt

"Wait!" Sam looked down at the cat. She could feel the tears behind her eyes. "Before you send her, maybe I should put on her collar. She only wears it when I take her to the vet, but at least it'll be some identification."

Greg smiled. "You're like a worried mother fussing over that cat. Floppy's been traveling back and forth in time for months without tags. The microchip is all we need to keep her in range and that won't get caught on trees."

"I guess you're right." Sam sighed, then reached down and gave Holly a final pet. "Take care, sweetie."

Without further ado, Greg pressed the button on the disk. Holly was gone in a second, only the half-eaten cat food in the pet dish evidence she'd ever been there.

"Our turn, Sam. Come take my hand."

"Are we going to join Holly, or is she coming back here?"

She'll be back safe on her cat tree or wherever else she likes to cozy. We'll be where Montmart was sent when the parallel linkage split the two of you up."

Sam shivered. "Maybe we're the ones who need ID tags," she said with a weak laugh.