The cat came back...

You may have been wondering what happened to the cat in my mother's story. Well, within a day, my mom had a response. Due to the violent nature of this story, reader discretion is advised.

And now I present the prequel to "The Coffin in the Backyard," titled "The Tragic Tail of the Cat."

The white, obese cat sat like a statue on the lid of the next door neighbor's trash can, sniffing the air. Aromas of fish, rotting lunch meat, and other wonderful goodies floated up into the cat's nostrils. Willow often visited the neighbors for a morning snack in the trash. He wasn't supposed to be out on his own, but Betty had forgotten to slam the back screen door shut all the way. Instead, poor Betty stood at the front door watching her husband, Jack, pile up his suitcases.

"Don't look for me, Betty. You won't find me. I'm leaving you and this miserable life behind. You'll be hearing from my lawyer, and I'll want the house."

Betty said nothing, not a word as her husband carried his heavy suitcases outside to the car. Betty went inside to find the cat for comfort. At the same time, the garage door of the neighbor began to go up. The cat, looking for more adventures, darted quickly inside running over the foot of the woman, Debbie, next door.

"Stupid cat," she muttered. "Get out of my garage or I'll make gloves out of you." She kicked at the cat, but it jumped on top of the car, out of her reach for the moment. Jack appeared at her side and hugged her.

"Ready to go? Where are your suitcases?" he asked.

"In the kitchen. Help me carry them, honey. Did you get the money?"

"We'll stop by the bank on the way to the airport. How about you? "

She shook her head. "Ron doesn't have a clue. Drained all the accounts. He won't know what hit him."

Debbie walked up the steps and opened the garage door leading into to the kitchen. "Hello," Ron said as Debbie stepped through the threshold. "Going somewhere?" In a quick motion, Ron buried a long knife in Debbie's chest. She crumbled like paper to the floor, a red stain spreading over her silk blouse. Jack almost tripped over her, his shoes splattered with blood.

"What the hell?" he managed to utter, backing out the door. He missed a step down and fell hard onto the hard cement floor, scraping the car bumper on his way down. The cat landed on his chest, hissed, and dug its claws into his jacket. Jack grabbed frantically at the cat to shake it off of him, but it held tight. Cat hair in his face, Jack couldn't see. He turned over, cat hanging from his chest, and tried to get to his feet. As he leaned on the car, he felt Ron's knife cut through his spinal cord with such force that the cat was impaled on his chest. Neither had a thought after that. They both fell in a heap at Ron's feet.

Outside Betty was combing the backyard, yelling, "Willow, Willow, come home now. I have your favorite kibbles!" She was thinking it was odd that Jack's car was still in the driveway. Why was the trunk open? She'd look into that as soon as she found the cat.

Ron shook his head sadly. Betty was going to miss that cat. He walked around the car and lowered the garage door. The street was empty and all was quiet in the neighborhood. Then he turned to the old freezer he had recently cleaned out and plugged back in. It was a good thing he didn't let Debbie sell it. Now it was going to be a godsend. He reached for the garbage bags on the shelf. After he wrapped and stored the bodies, he would have some cleaning to do.

Later he found the Home Depot card his wife had given him for Christmas and ordered some wood planks to be delivered. He knew it would be the first place anyone would look, but he would bury them in the backyard. Then he would redeposit the money he had found in Debbie's pocketbook. Overall, his day off had been very productive. 

Too bad about the cat.