The Orange Cat and Other Cainsville Tales (Cainsville 3.5)

"Did someone take the cat's body?"

"Wasn't one to take. By the time we got here, it was gone. Apparently, the crushed kitty got up and walked away."

#

The orange cat was on the back porch. It sat there, patiently waiting for the people inside to leave and for its target to return.

Gabriel crouched in front of the beast. Its jaw seemed off-kilter, as if it had been broken and healed badly. When Gabriel put out his hand, the cat let him rub its neck and he verified it was, indeed, warm and breathing.

"You know he isn't coming back," Gabriel said.

The cat gave him a level look, as if it realized that was the theory, but was not yet convinced it was necessarily fact.

Gabriel shook his head, rose and headed back to his car.

#

"Your client is crazy, Walsh," Assistant State's Attorney Pena said as they left the prison two days later.

"Would you care to state that opinion for the record?"

Pena snorted. "It wouldn't matter if I did, considering he's refusing to cooperate with a psych eval." They walked from the building. "If you can't get him to bargain, he's screwed. You know that, right?"

Unfortunately, Gabriel did know that. Patton may have hired him as his counsel, but he wasn't actually taking counsel. He refused to plead diminished capacity. He refused to consider a plea bargain. He insisted on being tried by a jury of his peers, convinced they would understand.

"I'll speak to him," Gabriel said.

#

First, Gabriel had to bribe the guards. That was easy enough. It wasn't as if he was trying to smuggle in an automatic weapon. They'd rolled their eyes, said "Whatever," and held out their hands. Bribery was usually a simple matter. The tricky part was figuring out how to include the expense on a client's bill.

Gabriel sat across the table from Patton after the guards brought him in. He laid out the terms of the plea bargain--what the State's Attorney's Office offered and what Gabriel thought he could negotiate down to from there.

"You're wasting your breath, Walsh," Patton said. "I'm going to a jury. They'll understand. I killed that cat because--"

Gabriel put the pet carrier on the table. The orange cat peered through the wires at Patton, who backed up fast, chair legs screeching across the floor. The guards made no move to interfere. They'd been well compensated for their inattention.

"You did not kill the cat," Gabriel said.

"Th-then this seals it, right? I can show them the cat and prove that--"

"That it came back from the dead? No. There's no way to prove this is the cat you allegedly killed, and the SA would simply accuse me of a very poor trick." Gabriel adjusted the carrier so the cat could better see its quarry. "Do you know where I found it? At your home. Waiting for you." Gabriel looked at Patton. "Would you like me to try for bail again?"

"What?"

"Pursuing your bail request. Would you like me--"

"You said the cat was at my house. Not here."

"Of course. It can hardly come in here. Security would remove it. It will be at your house, waiting for you. Not that I'd suggest you allow that to influence your decision. It is, after all, simply a cat."

Patton glowered at him for at least a full minute. Then he unhinged his jaw just enough to say, "What was the deal again?"

#

Later that day, Gabriel returned the cat to Patton's house. He opened the carrier on the front porch. The cat came out, sniffed and planted itself in front of the door.

"He's not coming back," Gabriel said. "He took the plea bargain. He'll be in jail for a very long time."