Chapter 5: Sebastian - Hunter or Hunted

Despite the smell of animals and all the messes they brought, Glenna’s home was exceptionally clean. She greeted me in the doorway. A cat or two stayed at her flank atop the sparkling mahogany hardwood floors. In the distance, whether upstairs or in the backyard, a few barks sounded.

As she led me through the formal dining room to the living room, a black cat, Midnight, rubbed against my calf. Another—Smoky, if memory served—hopped from shelf to shelf, following alongside us. When we made it to the leather reclining sofa, it grew a hell of a lot harder to keep the sting in my eyes at bay.

Beside Buttons, a white long-haired American with black spots, Mittens lay. Purring, she licked from the center of Buttons’ crown to the edge of his ear. She was half his size, even with all the weight he’d lost.

“I can get her out of here, if you need me to,” Glenna said. “Ever since I got her, she’s been glued to him. I’m sure she’ll befriend a few others. It’s only been a couple months, but…” She trailed into a shaking breath.

“Yeah, I remember.” Just last month, I had spayed Mittens. “But it’s alright. She can stay. Might give him some comfort.”

Nostrils flared, staving off a sob, Glenna swatted a tear away. All she managed was a quick nod as she sat down beside them. She stroked down Buttons’ back with tender, shaking fingers.

God damn it, I hated this job sometimes.

I lowered myself to my knees in front of the sofa. Carefully, I reached up for Buttons’ face. I stroked his cheek, then his chin, but his golden eyes barely fluttered.

As sweet as he was at the office, it took two, sometimes three techs holding him in place for me to get a blood draw or vaccination. We resorted to a device I called the cat crusher sometimes. It didn’t literally crush him, obviously. Just a cage with a panel that we could apply pressure to from the outside. Sandwiched between the panel and the metal grate, I’d jam my injection through the bars and into his fur. I hated using it, but with an ornery cat like Buttons, it was sometimes the only way to administer his medicine without my entire team going home bloody.

This time, though, Buttons didn’t mind my touch. Or rather, he couldn’t fight it.

My stomach ached as I stroked beneath his chin. “I’m so sorry, little guy.”

Ever so slightly, he lowered his head. Whether he was apologizing for all those scratches and bites, or too tired to do anything else, I would never know. I liked to think the former.

I cleared my throat. “I can inject the sedative whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m never going to be ready.” Sliding her hand over his spine, Glenna eased out a deep breath through trembling lips. “But I think he is.”

Considering he still had his head in my hand, and he typically would’ve tried to take off a finger by now, I hated to agree. I flexed and released my unsteady fingers a time or two before finding the vials in my bag. With careful, steady breaths to keep the ache in my chest from spilling out in a sob, I completed the first injection. He didn’t even flinch when the needle pierced his skin.

My throat thickened around the knot forming back there. I had to swallow a few times before I spoke. “He’s asleep now. He’s not in any pain. I can give you a couple moments alone with him before the other injection, if you want.”

Trailing one hand over his chest, labored breaths panting in and out of his nostrils, Glenna nodded. Her free hand fell to Mittens’ back. As she stroked her up and down as well, she whispered, “Yeah, I could use another minute, if that’s okay.”

* * *

I gave it to her. For fifteen minutes, I sat in the foyer petting Smoky. She was an affectionate kitty, rolling side to side, chasing my fingers. It gave me some respite to sit beside another cat, one who was healthy and young and playful.

Eventually, Glenna called for me. She didn’t say anything when I walked in. Only nodded.

I administered the injection. I checked his heartbeat a few moments later, but no pitter-patter echoed through my stethoscope. Chest tight, eyes watering, I joined Glenna, who still sat beside him, stroking her fingers through his fur.

Her glistening tears eventually turned to heavy weeps.

Some may have offered her a hug. I wasn’t that touchy-feely. I gave her a pat on the hand instead. She squeezed harder than I knew a lady of her age was capable of.

Together, we sat, and we mourned.

Buttons had been a patient of mine for three years. Collectively, I still hadn’t spent as much time with him as Gwen had with Delilah. Yet, I mourned.

If some big bad monster had caused his kidney disease, I, too, would plan their murder. Because this wasn’t right.

He was just a sweet, innocent little cat. Barring his scratch fest whenever I tried to stab him with a needle, he never hurt anyone. All he did was lie around and chase laser pointers and cuddle with Glenna and the other cats.

Thirteen years weren’t enough. Purity like that sweet boy deserved eternity. He was a good cat, and he deserved more time. He deserved the years that Evan had taken from Delilah. He deserved the years Evan had left.

Half an hour must’ve passed before Glenna struggled out, “Matt used to dig the holes, but I don’t think I’m strong enough for that anymore. I wouldn’t be able to get through the ice. Do you know what else I could do with him?”

“We work with a very kind crematorium,” I said. “I can get everything started. They’ll call you and give you different options for his ashes.”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you. And thank you for coming. If he could’ve chosen it, I know this is how he would’ve wanted to go.”

It wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time I came to a patient’s house. If it were my pet, I wouldn’t want to take them to the place they hated, where they knew they’d be poked and prodded, for their final moments.

All I could choke out was, “It’s no problem.”

“Are you going to take him with you now, then?” she whispered.

“I can, or I can come back and grab him in a little while.”

Unable to meet my gaze, she shook her head. “Just give me a few minutes to let them all sniff him. That way, they know he’s gone.”

I needed a few minutes too, or I was going to break down sobbing, right here, right now. “Of course.”

* * *

When I made it to the truck, I carefully laid Buttons in the passenger seat. Glenna had wrapped him in a blue fleece blanket. I kept one hand on his body.

Couldn’t really say why. It just didn’t feel right to treat him like a bag of groceries or fast food.

Once I turned the engine over, I went into my contacts and scrolled. When I reached Langston, I pressed the green button. As the dial tone rang, I stared out my windshield at the snow falling onto the street ahead of me. A maintenance guy in an orange vest spread rock salt onto the icy cobblestone sidewalks. At the end of the street, just before the white gazebo, the fifteen-foot Christmas tree twinkled in all its glory.

A woman answered, “Martha at Langston Crematorium speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Martha, it’s Sebastian Everett,” I said. “How are you doing?”

“Not my best, if I’m being honest.” Her gravelly sigh echoed through the speaker. “Guess you’re not doing too great either, calling the crematorium a few days before Christmas.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen better days,” I muttered. “Just had to do a euthanasia on a very sweet, very sick little cat. I wasn’t sure if you guys had closed up for the holidays yet, so I figured I’d give you a call before I tagged him and everything.”

“I’m actually the only one here right now, just managing some paperwork, but business as usual come Monday morning.”

“Sounds good. I’ll put the remains on ice until then,” I said. “Not doing your best though, huh? Everything alright?”

Maybe a presumptuous question, but I had been working with Langston Crematorium since opening my office. Martha ran the administrative part of the business. My patients had nothing but kind things to say about her from the start. Martha walked them through the different options they had for their pets’ ashes. She always made sure to get their paw and nose prints formed on a clay pad before the cremation. They offered a lovely array of urns, even jewelry the ashes could be placed in.

As such, Martha and I had built a rapport. She was an older lady, pushing retirement, who was normally the most bubbly, kindhearted, lively person. I couldn’t think of one time in all these years when she made her days sound like anything less than a gift from God.

“Well, Mr. Langston passed last week,” she said, sorrow gripping the edges of her voice. “If that’s not bad enough, the kids are talking about selling. When I talked to Emily about it, all she kept saying was ‘she doesn’t want to be in the dead-pets business.’ Which I guess I can understand to some extent, but I’ve been pretty much running this place for thirty years. Now God only knows. Won’t be long, and I could be out of a job.”

“Oh, shit,” I said under my breath. “I’m so sorry. For your loss, and for all that. I know you guys were friends.”

“You work with someone for that long, and how can you not be?” Another deep, breathy sigh. “I don’t know, kid. Just a hard week. Anyhow, something to keep in mind going forward. You might need to find another crematorium here soon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s gotta be really hard,” I said, but my mind was already turning. “Thank you for the heads up.”

“No problem. I’ll get you penciled in though, make sure everyone’s aware that you’ll be bringing in a precious little baby Monday morning. You have a Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, and you too,” I said. “But before I let you go, would you be able to do me a favor?”

“Sure thing. What do you need?”

“Could you pass my number along to Emily?” My heart hammered a bit faster. “I just—well, I’d hate to see you guys get bought out by some big corporation or something. I could probably save my patients and myself a little money if I bought the place myself. Just, you know. If that’s what they decide to do.”

A quiet gasp. “Really? Is that really something you’d be interested in?”

A few of the vets I had stayed in contact with from school had done something similar. Either they bought a small crematorium or they started up their office with their own cremation services from day one. It wasn’t an area I’d ever particularly wanted to explore. I chose to be a vet to help animals live. Not to get rid of their bodies once they died.

But my yard was becoming a cemetery. I needed direct access to an incinerator.

Especially if Gwen was going to kill again.