Chapter 3

“She’s up there.”

Dee stood beneath the rickety frame of the ancient windmill, her head tipped back. Otto took a moment to catch his breath—Dee might be little, but she was fast, and their run through the woods had left him winded. The air left his lungs in visible puffs, despite the warm sun beaming down on them. It was late enough in the fall that the trees were bare and the sparse grass under their feet was brown, but it hadn’t snowed yet, except at the highest mountain peaks he could see in the distance.

As his breathing slowed, Otto followed Dee’s gaze and spotted the small shape wedged in a corner between two metal crossbeams. He resisted the urge to swear.

A familiar snort of laughter brought another slew of mental cursing. “What are you doing here?” Otto asked.

“How could I miss this?”

Otto glanced over his shoulder at a grinning Hugh. “You should go.”

“Are you kidding?” Hugh rested his shoulders against a tree and took his weight off his injured leg. He was trying to be subtle about it, but Otto could see lines of tension and pain etched beneath the casual grin. “This is going to be awesome.”

Having grown up with Hugh, Otto knew that, if pushed, Hugh would only dig in even deeper. As jolly as Hugh appeared, there was a mountain of stubbornness behind his happy-go-lucky smile. With a resigned, silent sigh, Otto moved over to the metal skeleton. There was a ladder—well, most of a ladder, at least, since several rungs were missing—but it didn’t start until about seven feet off the ground. The first step was going to be a doozy.

“Want me to call Fire?” Hugh asked.

“No.” A part of him did. The firefighters would be able to get the cat down in minutes, but there’d be a price for convenience. Not only would the crew mock them for weeks, but the firefighters would get to play hero. Otto shot a quick glance at Dee, who was gazing at him as if he were a superhero combined with a god. He wasn’t about to let some firefighter steal all the glory. They were conceited enough as it was. “I’ve got this.”

“Sure?” Hugh asked, amusement clear in his voice.

“Otto’s got this.” The certainty in Dee’s words made Otto even more determined. He’d get that cat down even if it killed him. From the looks of the ancient metal ladder, it very well might.

With a quick mental prayer, he grabbed the first rung with both hands. It creaked loudly but held. Pulling himself so that his shoulders were even with his tightly clenched fists, he reached up and grabbed the second bar. His muscles were shaking. Not for the first time, he wished he were just a little smaller. Most of his bulk was muscle, but it was still a lot to be hauling around.

Moving his other hand to join the first, he dragged himself high enough to grab the third rung. Just one more, and he’d be able to swing his feet onto the bottom bar.

“Otto’s strong.” Dee’s admiring words brought a tiny smile to Otto’s lips as he latched on to the third rung with his other hand. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Dee or her brothers. It was obvious they’d had it rough before Jules moved them to Monroe, but they were all sweet, smart kids, and Otto had a soft spot a mile wide for kids and animals—a soft spot that tended to get him into situations like this. It won’t be that bad, he tried to convince himself. Just get up there and grab the cat. Easy-pea—

With a snap, the end of the metal bar popped free of its screw. Air rushed past Otto as his body dropped, his hands sliding down the now-vertical rung until there was nothing to grip but air. He grabbed at the ladder but missed, and his feet hit the ground with a jarring thud that vibrated painfully through his spine.

He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his audience. Hugh, the bastard, was doubled over with laughter, while Dee appeared concerned…and slightly disappointed.

“Strong, yes,” Hugh wheezed when he’d recovered enough to speak. “Needs to work on his coordination, though.”

“The rung broke,” Otto gritted out, even though he knew that would only encourage Hugh. He was tempted—so tempted—to ask if Hugh thought he could do better. The only thing that kept him silent was the knowledge that Hugh would take him up on the challenge, despite his casted arm and the bullet hole in his leg. Hugh was supposed to take it easy—hell, he was still supposed to be on crutches—but he was incredibly bad at staying on the sidelines. He didn’t need Otto’s encouragement to be an idiot.

Turning back to the metal structure, Otto eyed the cat peering down at him. “How’d you manage to get up there?” he muttered, and the animal gave a plaintive cry in response. As much as Otto wished the cat could climb down on its own, it didn’t look like that was going to happen. Setting his jaw and ignoring the sound of Hugh’s snickers, Otto grabbed the bottom rung once again.

It was worse this time—so much worse. His muscles were tired, and he was wary about the strength of the rungs, sure each one would break as soon as his full weight was hanging from it. The new gap was an issue, too, and he had to haul himself up until the rung was at his chest before he could reach the next bar.

As soon as he had that rung in both hands, he bent his knees and found the bottom bar with his feet. It took some of the strain off of his aching shoulders and arms, but he was too aware of being so far off the ground. If he fell now, it would hurt—a lot.

Hugh had gone silent, and that added to his tension. Even his partner knew that things were serious now. As quickly as possible, Otto climbed the ladder, testing each rung before putting his weight on it. He was just below the cat now, with only five more rungs to go—five more chances to go plummeting to the ground. Firmly pushing away the pessimistic thought, Otto stepped onto the next rung. The bar shifted under him, and he quickly moved his foot to the one above it, making a mental note to avoid the unstable rung on the way down.

He reached an arm toward the skinny gray tabby as he drew level with the cat. “Come here, sweetheart,” he crooned, inching his hand closer. The cat twitched its ears but didn’t move otherwise. “Come on, kitten. Let’s do this the easy way, okay?”

His fingers were almost close enough to brush the cat’s fur, and Otto leaned closer, keeping his other hand locked around the ladder. The metal groaned ominously, and he hastily centered himself again, frowning. The cat, its gaze locked on Otto, hunched down into a crouch. It wasn’t about to move from its perch, tucked in the junction of two supports.

Biting back a groan, Otto climbed another rung so he could step onto the crosspiece that looked like a skinny, metal balance beam. He shuffled sideways, not allowing himself to look down. The hushed tension of his small audience was enough to remind him of the life-and-death stakes—he didn’t need to see the distance to the hard ground.

Why hadn’t he wanted to call Fire again? His earlier reasons didn’t seem so important now. Carefully reaching out toward the metal frame, he inched his boots closer to the cat. The distance between vertical handholds was too far. He was going to have to let go of one before grabbing the other.

Taking a deep breath, he blew it out in an even, calming stream. Pushing away from the ladder, he lunged for the other side…and caught it.

A cheer rose from below, and it sounded as if his audience had grown. Otto noted that fact absently, his curiosity not great enough to risk looking down. The cat had flinched back at his sudden movement, and Otto crouched—slowly, carefully—trying not to spook it. It would be bad if it took off. A mental image of him chasing the cat around the windmill’s supports like some kind of insane carousel flashed through his mind, but Otto shoved it away.

“Hey, kitty,” he said quietly, reaching out. The cat flattened its ears, and Otto paused, his hand in midair. Don’t run. Please don’t run. If they’d been on the ground, he would’ve sat down, talked to the cat, taken his time to earn its trust—but they were not on the ground. No, they were twenty-five feet in the air, on a rickety windmill. The entire structure swayed in the wind, creaking as if it was seconds from collapsing. He shifted his weight, and the metal beneath him shuddered.

There wasn’t time for gentle persuasion. They needed to get down first, and then they could get to know each other. As quick as he’d been slow before, he grabbed the cat and pulled it in to his chest. The animal stiffened, but it didn’t fight, and Otto blew out a relieved breath. This was not the place to have a pitched battle with a terrified, pissed-off feline.

Instead the cat latched on, hooking all its claws into Otto’s jacket as he carefully straightened. Once he was up, he paused. With one hand supporting the cat, he was down to a single arm for climbing, and that was going to make things tricky. If he tried to tuck the cat inside his jacket, Otto was pretty sure it would climb right back out again.

As if in answer, the cat gave a miserable, warbling meow.

“Shh,” Otto soothed. “I know. I’m not that excited about this either, but we just need to get down, and then everything will be much better for you.” The wind gusted heavily, making the windmill shiver and groan. “Better for me, too.”

A thump right below him startled Otto, and he jumped, remembering just in time not to step back to catch his balance. His hand tightened around the support instead, and he steadied. Glancing down, he saw Steve Springfield, the newest member of the Monroe Fire Department, bracing an extension ladder against the support Otto was standing on. It was the first time he was happy to see a firefighter. Hugh was helping Steve steady the ladder while Dee made anxious circles a short distance away, craning her neck to watch.

“Don’t drop the cat!” she called when she noticed Otto was looking down at them. Then, a beat later, “Don’t fall, either!”

If he’d had a free hand, Otto would’ve given Dee a reassuring wave.

“Come on down!” Hugh hollered, and Otto shuffled over to the top of the ladder. It was awkward with only one hand, but he managed to step first one foot and then the second on the top rung. The cat wiggled, and he made reassuring sounds even as he gripped it tighter to his chest. Otto hadn’t risked his life just to have the darn thing leap to its death once safety was within reach.

Although still tense, the cat stopped squirming, and Otto moved down a step, and then another. After the precarious climb up the dilapidated windmill, descending this—even with only one usable arm—was a delight in comparison. The cat sank its claws deeper into his shirt, pricking his chest. With a grimace, Otto resisted the urge to detach the claws digging into his skin, knowing that it was not the time for readjusting his hold. Once he managed to get both of them to solid ground, then he could get a better, more comfortable grip on the cat. Otto stepped down to the next rung, and the cat lunged to the side.

As the animal slipped from his grasp, Otto reached out, catching the cat mid-leap and hauling it back against his front. He was breathing hard, more from the scare than from exertion, and he took a second before starting down the ladder again. The cat gave a miserable yowl, and he made wordless soothing sounds. Ignoring Otto, the cat meowed again.

“Good catch,” Hugh called, sounding subdued—and reassuringly close. Otto glanced down and saw that he was just six or so rungs from the ground. He blew out a hard, relieved breath as he hurried to descend the last few feet. He’d done it. The cat was safe, and Otto didn’t have any broken bones. The rescue mission had been a success.

His foot touched the second-to-last rung, and he turned his head toward Dee, who was hovering right next to the ladder, her gaze locked on the cat.

“He’s fine,” Otto assured her. “A little scared, but that’s understandable. He’s had a hard day so far, but the bad part’s over now.” He smiled at her over his shoulder as he moved down to the final rung.

When his boot skidded off that bottom step and he stumbled off the ladder, Otto knew he’d spoken too soon. Dee was right next to him, and he would squash the tiny girl if he landed on her. Twisting away, he avoided crashing into her, but the dodge threw off his balance. There was no saving it—he was going down. He tumbled gracelessly to the ground, barely managing to turn in midair so as to land on his back and not flatten the cat.

The spectators gathered around to stare down at him.

“You okay?” Hugh asked, sounding suspiciously like he was about to laugh.

“Fine.” Otto wasn’t in any hurry to get up. Honestly, he was just relieved to be on solid ground, even if it was flat on his back.

“Thank you, Otto,” Dee said, reaching down to take the cat.

“Careful,” he warned, watching closely as he released it, ready to snatch it back if it tried to claw Dee to pieces in order to escape. The cat seemed only too happy to curl up in Dee’s arms, though, purring loudly. Otto shot the animal an exasperated look. Why hadn’t it been so well behaved when he was risking life and limb?

Laughing openly now, Hugh offered him a hand up. “Good work, Otto. You might want to work on sticking the landing next time, though.”

“Seems like an okay place to fall, if you ask me,” Steve said evenly, although the corners of his mouth twitched. “Better than up at the top.”

“True.” Otto brushed off the back of his pants, looking curiously at Steve’s T-shirt and worn BDUs. “Off duty?”

The fireman nodded. “Our property is right over there.” He pointed north. “Heard the commotion, saw you climbing, and figured you could use a ladder.” They all looked at the rickety metal rungs barely clinging to the windmill. “A better ladder.”

“Thank you,” Otto said sincerely.

“If this is the extent of the excitement around here, I’ll be happy,” Steve said, folding the ladder. “I moved the kids here from Simpson because Monroe seemed like a safer place, but then all that craziness happened with the shootings and explosions. I’m glad things calmed down; I was starting to think I’d have to move us somewhere else.”

Hugh snorted. “Yeah, they’ll be calm until Dee brings that cat home. What are the chances Jules will ever let us babysit again?”

After taking a few days to recover from this adventure, Otto knew he could convince Jules to let him watch the kids again. After all, she allowed Hugh to babysit. Surely she’d forgive Otto for one small cat.

Before he could say as much, Theo charged out of the trees, striding through the clearing toward their little group.

“Uh-oh,” Hugh muttered. “Theo must’ve sensed you were trying to throw yourself off a windmill.”

Except for a pointed look, Otto ignored him, his gaze on Theo. The other cop looked even more aggravated than usual as he neared.

“This is my new cat!” Dee announced. “Isn’t she beautiful? Or he, maybe. I don’t know which yet.”

Distracted, Theo eyed the cat curled in Dee’s arms. “New cat?”

“Yes! Otto rescued her. I thought he was going to fall, especially when the ladder broke, or when he had to walk on the narrow metal thingy, way up in the air, but he didn’t! Well, he didn’t until he reached the bottom, and then he fell over. Boom! It was like a tree getting cut down.”

Hugh started laughing again as Theo turned a narrowed gaze first toward the windmill and then at Otto. “You climbed that thing?”

Giving an affirmative shrug, Otto braced himself for the inevitable lecture.

“That was stupid. Why didn’t you call Fire? Isn’t getting cats out of high places pretty much the only thing they’re good for?”

Steve gave a soft, amused cough.

With an abrupt shake of his head, Theo said, “Never mind. That’s not why I tracked you down. This is an emergency.”

“What is it?” Hugh pushed away from the tree, all traces of amusement gone. Otto took a step toward Theo, his body on alert. Theo’s serious tone had both of them tense and ready to respond to the latest crisis.

“It’s happening again.” A muscle worked in Theo’s jaw.

“What is?” Otto asked. Like Steve had said, it had been a rough few months—hell, a rough year—for the Monroe first responders, especially the K9 unit. From Theo’s grim expression, whatever “it” was, it wasn’t good.

“One of Jules’s ‘childhood friends’ has arrived.”

In unison, Otto and Hugh groaned.

“Another one?” Hugh asked. The twitch of Theo’s right eye was answer enough, and Otto rubbed a hand over his head. Theo hadn’t been exaggerating.

This was an emergency.