“Can you describe this man?” Cross asked at once.
“No,” she said, sounding weary and apologetic. “He was just a dark shape with the moonlight behind him.”
Santo saw his own disappointment reflected on the faces of both officers at this news, but Cross made a note in his book, and then asked, “What happened next?”
“I grabbed Parker out of bed, took him into the bathroom with me, locked the door, and called 911.”
“She wanted to leave me in the bathroom and go see if the guy had got in, but I wouldn’t let her,” Parker announced, sounding upset that she would have left him alone.
“Good job, son,” the officer said solemnly. “You were both safer waiting in the bathroom for us to arrive.”
“Yeah, but we came out when Marguerite and Santo broke in and came looking for us,” Parker pointed out.
Both officers immediately turned their gazes back to Santo and his relatives. Pet glanced around as well, her eyes widening when she saw that they had all spread out behind her and Parker in the entry.
“I fear Parker is right, officer, we did break down the door,” Marguerite said smoothly. “We’re staying next door, you see, and while Santo and Zani were out in the backyard talking, they spotted someone on the second-floor balcony over here and then heard screaming. Well, we all rushed over to try to help. Bricker, my husband, Julius, and my nephew Zani all went after the intruder while Santo and I came to check on Pet and Parker. When they did not answer the door, Santo broke it down.” She glanced at the pieces of wood all over the floor and then assured them, “We will of course, call and get someone in first thing tomorrow to repair it. And Pet and Parker can come stay next door with us tonight.”
“Oh, no, that’s not—” Pet began with a frown, but Officer Cross interrupted her, saying, “That would be a good idea. You can’t stay here without a door. Chances are it was just a Peeping Tom and your neighbors scared him off. But if he does come back . . .”
“He is right, dear,” Marguerite said, her voice solemn. “You cannot stay here without a door. Besides, we have the room. And Zani and Bricker can stay here and guard the house until the repairman comes tomorrow,” Marguerite assured her.
Pet opened her mouth, and Santo was quite sure she’d intended to refuse the offer, but then her gaze slid to Parker and she paused. The worry on his young face brought a frown to hers and she asked, “What would you like to do, Parker?”
The boy peered unhappily at the gaping hole that used to be a door and shook his head. “I don’t think we should stay here, Aunt Pet.”
“Right,” she breathed.
“It is all decided then,” Marguerite said cheerfully, moving past Santo to begin herding Pet and Parker toward the door. When she paused suddenly to frown at the cat and long blanket trailing behind Parker and then glanced to him, Santo uncrossed his arms and moved around Pet to scoop up the boy. He carried Parker out the door before Pet could protest, but knew she would follow. She was very protective of her nephew. Still, she must have hesitated, torn between following and staying to deal with the police officers, because he heard Cross say, “We just need to look at the boy’s room and question the men. We don’t need you for that.”
He could tell Pet was already hurrying after him as she called back to the officer, “Parker’s bedroom is the last door at the end of the hall on the left. The room I’m using is the last on the right just past it.”
Santo smiled with satisfaction and then quickly hid the expression behind a solemn look as she reached his side and tried to get a look at her nephew.
Her face full of worry, she said, “If Parker is heavy, I could—”
“He’s not,” he interrupted. “And you are barefoot. You need to watch where you are stepping. Carrying him would make that difficult.”
“Oh, right.” Pet sounded disappointed. Santo got the distinct impression she wanted to snatch Parker from his arms. He moved more quickly, to ensure she couldn’t.
Four
“I think we need some hot cocoa and cookies before bed,” Marguerite announced as she opened the door to the Caprelli house. She turned back to smile at Parker in Santo’s arms and added, “What do you think, dear?”
“Yes, please,” Parker said primly.
Pet managed a smile for the woman when what she really wanted to do was snatch up Parker and run back to her sister’s house. She wasn’t pleased at the thought of staying in the Caprelli house with these people. She’d rather stick Parker in her car and take him to a hotel for the night. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been quick enough to say that before Santo had scooped up the boy and carried him off. She supposed everyone had assumed her saying “Right” in response to Parker not wanting to stay at the house had been agreement to staying at the Caprellis’. Now she didn’t know how to get herself and Parker out of there without insulting their hosts or making them suspicious.
Sighing, she followed Santo into the house, aware that Marguerite was behind her.
The big man was very gentle with her nephew, Pet acknowledged as she watched him set the boy carefully down in a chair at the table. But when Santo stepped back and she saw the cat still in Parker’s clutches, Pet frowned slightly.
“Parker, whose cat is that?” she asked abruptly, knowing it wasn’t his. Her brother-in-law, Patrick, hated cats and claimed the only thing they were good for was oven mitts. He was also allergic to the felines. He wouldn’t even have allowed the cat into the house and would freak if he ever learned it had been there. Even if it had saved his son from an intruder.
“This is Mrs. Wiggles,” Parker said, stroking the animal’s head. He no longer had it bundled in the blankets to keep it still. It was remaining in his lap, on top of the blankets by choice.
“Mrs. Wiggles?” Marguerite asked with interest.
Parker nodded, and explained, “Mr. Purdy’s cat.”
“The home invasion cat?” Pet asked, recalling his earlier story.
“Yes.” He smiled, apparently pleased that she remembered.
“Okay,” Pet said slowly. “But why was she in your room? And just how did she get there? She wasn’t in your room when we were playing video games earlier in the evening. I would have noticed. And I didn’t see her anywhere in the house. Did you let her in the window after you went to bed?” The very idea terrified her. If he’d been letting Mrs. Wiggles in as the man had come up to the window . . .
“No,” Parker said quickly, apparently seeing her mounting alarm. “She was in the basement all day until I went to bed.” Looking guilty, he admitted, “I didn’t really go down to get a glass of milk, I—”
“Went to get the cat,” she finished, putting it together now.
Parker nodded. “I didn’t want you to know she was there.”
Pet tilted her head and eyed him with confusion. “Why?”
“Because you might have made me put her outside, or decided to take her back to Mr. Purdy yourself,” he admitted quietly.
Pet considered him briefly and then sighed and said, “And you’re right. I would have.” When his eyes widened with alarm, she added solemnly, “She’s not your cat, Parks. You can’t just keep her. And Mr. Purdy is probably missing her,” she added firmly.
“Yes, but—”
“And your father is allergic to cats. He won’t be pleased to know you had one in the house.”
“He knows,” Parker countered quickly.
“What?” she asked with disbelief. Knowing Patrick Peters the way she did, Pet was sure that couldn’t be true. Her brother-in-law would have thrown a fit.
“He does know,” Parker insisted. “He saw her in my room yesterday night when he came home. He was upset, but when I told him what had happened, and that I’d called 911 and—”
“You called 911?” Pet interrupted with surprise.
“Yes, but they thought I was making a crank call and wouldn’t do anything. When I told Dad that, he said Mrs. Wiggles could stay for the night, but he’d take her back to Mr. Purdy in the morning and check on him for me.” Scowling, he added, “But he didn’t. Instead, he flew off on business, and I’m kinda glad he didn’t because I was worried for him. But he didn’t check on Mr. Purdy, and the police wouldn’t do anything about it and I don’t know what to do, but I can’t take Mrs. Wiggles back and let his cousin break her neck.”
“Woah,” Pet said, moving to his side to rub his back soothingly. “Slow down, Parker. Everything’s fine. No one’s going to break Mrs. Wiggles’s neck.”
“Mr. Purdy’s cousin will if she goes back to the house. He said so!”
Astonished, Pet stared at her nephew and was about to reassure him that wouldn’t happen, when Marguerite spoke up.
“Perhaps you had best explain what makes you think that, Parker,” the woman suggested quietly. “Mr. Purdy is your neighbor on the other side, is he not?”
Parker nodded. “Yes. He’s our neighbor . . . and a really nice old man. I helped him out with his garden last summer as part of a school project and we became friends. I usually stop there on my way home from school and we play chess and have tea and stuff, but . . .”
“But?” Santo prompted when he hesitated and Pet couldn’t resist looking at the man. His voice had still been a deep growl, but it had also been softer than Pet had heard him use before. Almost gentle, she thought, and then glanced back to her nephew as he answered.
“But he has this cousin visiting and—” Parker paused and frowned briefly but then blurted, “He’s a real weirdo, and I’m worried for Mr. Purdy.”
Pet smiled faintly with relief. Weirdo wasn’t so bad. Patting Parker’s back, she said, “I understand that, sweetheart, but I’m sure your Mr. Purdy is fine. Everyone has a weirdo in the family. I’m sure this Mr. Purdy wouldn’t let this cousin stay with him if he was dangerous.”