Chapter 9

We'll take care of it, the Deputy Marshal thought he heard somebody speak out loud. He turned to the crowd, "You people stay out of it. This is our case."

We got it ... they're on their way.

"Damn it all! Who said that?"

"Said what?" in various forms and from various people.

"That the Washington people are on their way." He did look a little confused. "One of you jokers should be on Ed Sullivan. Come on ... who's the ventriloquist?"

Grace looked at the cats. Piper stuck out her tongue. The other two sort of melted into the grey concrete.

The man wearing the navy blue suit in the tower called them ... he has a radio. The English was perfect, but nobody's lips moved. The head agent decided.

"Bill?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Run over to the tower ... check the man in the blue suit for a radio. Navy blue."

He has a mustache.

"Hey, Bill. He has a mustache."

The Washington people are lost. Bill has time.

"Someone has their radio turned on," said the DMIC. (Deputy Marshal In Charge) "Radio check."

No radio was on. Piper and Grace were in a staring contest. Bill came back from the tower with David's uncle. Bill was carrying a Government radio and a little .32 auto pistol.

Bill said, "He had these but he has a license to carry, so he's not under arrest."

"Hey," David said. "That pistol is mine. I need a phone."

"What for?"

"I need to call the police at home. That pistol was locked up in my safe. They have a list of my guns. They can check what else is missing. With Richard in possession of my handgun ... can I have him arrested?"

Uncle Rich wasn't under arrest so he hadn't been cuffed. He struggled with the Deputy and somehow came up with the .32. He shot the Deputy and turned the gun on David.

"You little bastard! That money is mine!"

Piper and her offspring hit him like a ton of bricks knocked off a five story scaffold. Piper had the little .32 in her mouth, she bit, it went off, the full metal jacketed bullet struck the pavement and ricocheted off the hardstand. The impact with the concrete had flattened one side of the copper jacket turning that part into a shredded copper razor. The bullet struck David's uncle in the groin area shattering the hip socket, slicing through the major nerve, tendon, femoral artery and leaving a trail of lead fragments behind. Uncle Rich collapsed and bled out in a few seconds.

ROWL! That hurts! Piper had shot herself through her lip.

How do you arrest a cat? Better yet, how do you arrest a Bobcat slash Canadian Lynx carrying a gun? A wounded Bobcat slash Lynx carrying a gun she knows how to shoot and one with five more rounds? Why would you try?

Nobody did. The Deputy on the ground had everyone's attention. The assorted Emergency service ambulances were on the scene and caregivers were taking care before anyone began to worry about David's Uncle Richard.

Even then, one of the first responders asked about the obviously shot cat before even noticing the deceased.

"What's up with the cat with the gun?" asked the responder, "Ooo ... he's been shot."

"Shot?!?" questioned Grace, "Piper? Ooo you're bleeding. Come here ... let me look."

Piper crawled up on Grace's lap, Owie, momma. I lost a tooth too!

"That's one tame cat ... Piper? Cub?" the responder asked.