Cat out of Hell

By Jennifer Aherne

Cat out of Hell is a murder mystery, but with an original, demonic twist! When Sally ends her relationship with her violent lover, Andrew, it starts a chain of terrifying events she could never have and which, as the mystery deepens, cause Sally to begin to doubt her own sanity, from Andrew's gruesome murder to a nightmare creature, half man half cat, stalking her in her own bedroom! The police suspect her of murdering Andrew. Andrew's sister is killed and forensic evidence points to a big cat! A romance starts to develope between Sally and the police detective investigating the killings, who also happens to be a friend of Sally's solicitor boss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Aherne
• Release date: Jan 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781909351066

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CAT OUT OF HELL

Jennifer Aherne

Copyright 2013, Smashwords edition

Copyright Jennifer Aherne 1998

All rights reserved

Edited by Daniel Aherne

Cover illustration by Katrina Joyner

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction, any similarity to any events or person(s) living or dead is coincidental.

First published in e-book format in 2012.

Digital edition produced by Ebookcovers4u

CAT OUT OF HELL

by Jennifer Aherne

Chapter One

Sally took her coffee out onto the patio. It was a warm September day, and her garden was not long past its brilliant best. Ordinarily she would have delighted in her little sacred plot on such a morning. That day, she was a mess. All her emotions were jumbled together.

She could feel the flush in her cheeks. Her anger had quickened her heartbeat. She sat down. There was even a tremor in her hand as she raised the cup to her lips.

That is the last time! Sally said aloud, her voice had a volume that startled her.

Sally sipped her coffee and sniffed. She sat for a while in the sun's warmth, watching the blackbird at the bottom of the garden pecking about in the shrubbery. Something soft and warm brushed her leg.

Seth! She reached out her hand and twirled her fingers around the thin, almost serpentine tail as the cat flexed it erect against her skirt. She would have liked to pick him up and put him on her lap, but Seth wasn't a lap cat. He was affectionate enough, but he liked to keep his independence. He was happy to sit at her feet, nuzzle her legs and the sound of his purr was deep and rhythmic. He was watching her, gently picking his feet up and down. She knew his yellow eyes could see deep. Did he know what she was feeling, she wondered. If he could, he certainly wasn't showing it.

What would Seth be like if he was a man? There was something so sensual in that soft black fur and something so yielding in those eyes, so willing to accept life without a thought for what it meant, and what conditions might come with it. They were both just there, enjoying each other's company.

The phone rang and Sally found herself going back to the house.

Look, I'm sorry about last night. There was a pause, this was for Sally to accept the apology, and offer one of her own. But it was he who broke the silence first with a deep sigh. You know I didn't mean it. If you hadn't kicked up so much, it wouldn't have happened.

Sally's cheeks burnt with fury and hurt. If only she had the words now, but there was a growing lump in her throat, and if she tried to speak he would hear how close to tears she was.

Say something, he pressed.

No, was all she could manage.

She put down the phone. When it rang again minutes later she ignored it.

Making her way slowly back to the garden, the cat had taken her chair. She picked him up, holding him close to her face. He didn't like this attention. He didn't like to be held, it made him feel helpless. He pushed away with the front of his paws against the front of her chest, but didn't struggle or scratch. She knew he wanted to get down, but he felt so comforting.

The phone had stopped ringing and she let the cat go and sat down.

It wasn't the first time Andrew had hit her. Somehow she had always managed to forgive him. The rage that would suddenly erupt in him had the power to terrify her, it came like a sudden storm out of nowhere. There was no foreseeing it, no foretelling what trivial conversation might fuel it. Her emotions were still raw, and even now she was still vulnerable. What she needed was to put some time and space between them.

He was a great lover. A vision came into her mind as she looked at the lawn; the feel of his body as he rolled her in the grass, but the thought evaporated like steam.

She wasn't a stupid woman. Reasonably well educated, good A-Levels, could have gone to university. Could have done better, she told herself.

She remembered watching some soft, pathetic female on daytime T.V. lamenting being trapped in an abusive relationship and yelling at the screen, 'Why don't you leave? Just leave!' And when the question was asked, the answer was, 'Where would I go?' And that made some sense for a woman without the means to support herself.

Sally was a woman, not rich but comfortable. Her parents had left her a house. Her father hadn't been a wealthy man, though he was a careful one, and he had left her provided for. She had a good job working as a legal secretary. There was nothing in her psyche to make her a victim. As a child she'd been loved to distraction.

What was it that made it impossible for her to keep her resolve and walk away? She didn't love him, she was certain of that, at least. He would be 'round soon, his face at her door, and then what would happen? All she had to do was to harden up.

Sally went indoors and up to her bedroom. It was Saturday, her shopping day. She and Seth had to eat. She searched through the jumbled mass of clothes. She needed her walking shoes. Supermarkets were hard on the feet. When she closed the mirrored wardrobe door she found herself staring into her own eyes, an unnerving feeling. The passive, unsmiling image mocked her. She was what people called a 'striking' woman, very tall, very slim. Elegant, fair-haired and fair-skinned, but that wasn't how she saw herself. Her height bothered her, it made her conspicuous, she wanted to be part of the crowd. Sally liked crowds, safety in numbers. Above all she craved safety, and yet she allowed herself to stay with a man whose volatile temper constantly threatened it.

When Sally drove into the supermarket car park it had started to rain, but the sun was still shining. It took her ages to find a parking space, she hated shopping on a Saturday, but she worked all week and by the time she got home in the evening she was too tired and drained to face up to such mundane tedium. She never shopped on Sundays. Well, almost never.

It was an hour later when she emerged. If she went home Andrew would certainly be there. A wave of panic hit her. She should have changed the locks. He would be there waiting, sitting in the old, red leather chair that had belonged to her father. He would be sorry, and she would be stupid. He would pull her to him, and she would yield.

Sally piled the shopping into the back of the car, absorbed in these thoughts. She would get the locks changed, she would do it today.

She'd drive to the locksmiths in High Lane, and maybe explain the situation, and then Mr Wells would come straight out with her.

She thought about the solid, old man she'd seen behind the counter of the locksmiths. 55 or so, not fat but sturdy, hands square, short-fingered. Dark eyes, weary but kind and dependable.

By the time Sally reached to the locksmith it was 3:15 and the shop was closed. Sally fought off the irrational desire to cry. What did it matter? The rain was heavier now, and she sat in the car with the windshield wipers on, and wondered what to do.

She had a cousin who lived in a village about ten miles along the coast. She could go there, perhaps she could stay. But then, what about Seth?

Of course there were friends and colleagues she might have gone to, but that was too close to home. The truth was she was ashamed to admit what she was letting him put her through.

Sally turned on the engine and drove home. There was no sign of Andrew's car in the drive or on the road outside. He wasn't there. Once inside she could put on the deadlock and the safety chain. She'd be safe. He didn't have a back door key.

There was a strange, sad emptiness to the house as she went in. The rain made everything dark, and Sally was melancholy. Was she disappointed that he wasn't there?

There was no sign of Seth either, when she brought in the bags of shopping. He would always be there by her side, nuzzling her legs, considering what goodies were waiting in the bags for him.

When she had packed away the groceries Sally went back into the lounge and poured herself a gin and tonic. She glanced at the answerphone, no messages. She was starting to feel a sense of loneliness. If the cat was there he would have eased it. But he wasn't.

Seth wasn't there when she awoke the next morning to the sound of rain still pounding on the window. She reached out lazily for his soft, warm form on the bed, but he wasn't there.

Seth hated the rain. He wouldn't stay out all night. He was in the kitchen, she imagined, tucking into the dish of sardines she'd left out for him. Comforted, she got up slowly, put on her dressing gown and went downstairs.

There was no cat in the kitchen. The sardines were untouched, and starting to look unsavoury. Sally was truly worried. No point in calling, he never came when he was called, only when he wanted to.

She opened the back door, her mind raced with possibilities; he'd been run over, he was lying sick in a corner somewhere. She went out to search the garden again, looking in all the places where he liked to sit. Under the privet hedge. Not that he'd sit there in the rain. Under the ornamental pine, where he would hide and watch the fish pond. She called his name, if he was hurt and disorientated the sound of her voice might guide him back.

Sally had a bleak thought as she wandered back to the house without him. What if Andrew had taken him? What if he was trying to punish her and had come to the house yesterday after all and had grabbed Seth and left. The thought quickened her step until she was back in the house.

He wouldn't do anything to Seth, he was only trying to make her squirm, to make her phone him. She dialled his number without hesitation. There was no answer. He was punishing her. How like him to take the one thing she loved. Sally found herself a little startled by the thought that the one thing she loved was her cat.

How did that sound? She saw herself in thirty or forty years' time, an old lady and her cats. Of course, Seth would be long gone by then. At least she could laugh at herself. Knowing Andrew was at the end of the phone, enjoying her anguish, waiting for her to ring and plead for him to give Seth back.

On the other hand, what if he'd hurt Seth? What if he'd had him put down or given him to an animal shelter? He wouldn't have Seth put down, her instincts told her that Andrew had some inkling of what Seth meant to her and that was the one act that could never be forgiven.

The doorbell rang, unusual for a Sunday, unless it was someone peddling religion. Sally went out into the hall and looked at the glass front door,