Downton Tabby by Sparkle Abbey

still checking under beds and still calling Toria.
    “Here, Toria. Here, kitty, kitty.” There was no sign of her at all. Maybe she’d somehow gone back downstairs. I stood in the hallway and listened.
    Wait a minute. I could hear a faint meow. I moved quietly up and down the hallway attempting to figure out where the sound was coming from. It was slightly louder toward the far end of the hallway where there was another set of stairs. I slowly climbed the short flight, but once at the top could no longer hear the soft mewling.
    At the top of the stairs was the turret room. I peered in, fascinated with the round tower-like room. Then I came back down, one step at a time. I stopped and listened on each step. And then back up, continuing to listen. I stepped inside the room. It was filled with all sorts of interesting gadgets, as well as a shiny telescope and shelves that should have held books but instead held more gadgets. There was a massive round computer desk in the center of the room.
    “Toria? Here, kitty,” I called.
    Finally in frustration I sat down at the desk and listened.
    “Meow.” There. I could hear her.
    I stood, and as I did the wall beside me soundlessly slid open.
    Toria shot out of the open wall and leapt into the middle of the desk, sliding across the papers and scattering them on the floor. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
    Then a man stepped out of the open wall.
    This time I did scream, the sound echoing in the high-ceilinged room.
    “Who are you?” he demanded.
    I could barely hear him over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. He was skinny and not very tall, but his blond hair was wild and his face bright red which somehow made him seem more menacing. He held a small, black metal box.
    “The question is who are you?” I shot back. Was I face to face with Jake’s murderer? I automatically felt my jeans pocket for my cell phone, but then, with a sinking feeling, remembered it was downstairs with my bag. I was really sorry I’d sent Officer Hostas on his way.
    “I’m no one you need to concern yourself with.”
    “This is a crime scene and there’s an officer downstairs,” I bluffed.
    “No, there’s not.” He shook his shaggy head. “I saw him drive away.”
    Toria walked back and forth on top of the desk and meowed at us as if mediating.
    Well, good news, I guess. The cat was found.
    “How did you get in that room?” I pointed at the wall that gaped open and the space I could see beyond. I also eased myself from behind the desk and closer to the door, hoping he didn’t notice my movement. I had no cell phone and no weapon. I would have to make a run for it.
    “Stop,” he ordered, and I flinched. The guy didn’t seem to have a weapon, just that small box, but the image of Jake with the computer cord around his neck was burned into my memory.
    “What were you doing in there?” I squared my shoulders and asked. Meanwhile, my eyes searched the room for any sort of object I could use to slow him down. There was the telescope which I was sure would be pretty heavy. And all those gadgets on the shelves might work if I could hurl one of them just right.
    “Listen, lady. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you need to mind your own business.”
    “I’m just the catsitter.” Maybe if he thought I was no threat he wouldn’t kill me.
    He nodded as if somehow that fact really did let me off the hook, then suddenly he turned, tucked whatever it was he’d taken under his arm, and brushing past me, ran from the room.
    I heard his feet pound on the stairs as he went down and then heard the front door slam. I know I should have followed him, but my whole body was frozen in place by my narrow escape. I hurried to the window. He ran to a small, white sports car parked in front of the house next door and sped away. I was too far away to see the make and model. The car had California plates, but I couldn’t see the license number.
    I stumbled to the desk and