Courtney's Secrets (The Clandestine Series)

Admit Seventeen

Saturday I slept in late, until Courtney woke me. "You can't sleep the entire day away." She made a full breakfast with pancakes, bacon, and eggs. She was always a good cook. Afterward, she asked me to check the mailbox.

It was a sunny day. Sidewalks were wet with melted snow while the yard was still covered in snowdrift. The neighborhood mailboxes were in a central location near the end of the block. As I walked by Wendell's house, I noticed flyers posted on the outside of his rickety fence. I stopped to read one. There was a picture of Olivander on top licking his paw. He was deceivingly innocent in the photo. Underneath it read:

Missing
responds to Olivander
four years old.
Microchipped

Then it listed Wendell's address and phone number.

My heart tugged at my conscience as I remembered Courtney driving over him, scraping him off the pavement with the dustpan, dumping him into the trash, and then going and eating a big meal afterward like it didn't bother her. I was an accomplice to this feline murder. As I continued walking, I noticed he had posted one on a tree, and then further down, there were more on other neighbors' fences. When I got to the community mailboxes, he was standing there taping one to the side.

Guilt weighed heavily in my stomach where the pancake settled like a brick. Poor Wendell exerted time and energy into searching for a cat that was at rest at the city's waste management site. "Hi, Wendell," I said, hoping to make this meeting as quick and painless as possible.

"Hi, Deja. What are you up to?" He held his flyers facing out—probably to make sure I hadn't missed them.

"Just checking the mail." My smile felt tight. I wanted to get my key into our box, but he was in the way.

His eyebrows hugged together. "Hey, have you seen Olivander lately?"

I stared at my keys, feeling the brick rise in my esophagus. "No, I haven't."

"He's been missing a few days now. Probably hungry. He's never gone this long without coming home."

I wondered if he suspected I had something to do with his disappearance after Courtney threatened to kill him. It saddened me that Wendell wouldn't get the closure he deserved for the death of his beloved cat. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said. I didn't know what else to say. I couldn't say I hoped he would be found soon because that would be giving him false hope. I stared at my mailbox. "Um, excuse me, Wendell."

He moved back to let me in. "I'd appreciate it if you let me know the next time you see him."

I pulled the mail out of the mailbox and locked it back up. Knowing I would never see Olivander again I said, "I will." I backed away, waving goodbye with the hand that held the mail, then I turned and quickened my pace back home.

Courtney knew immediately when I came in that something was off because the first question she asked was, "What's wrong?"

"Wendell is looking for Olivander," I said.

She was sitting on the couch watching tv. She shrugged. "So?"

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "He's upset and I feel bad for him—wasting time looking for him when he's dead."

Courtney rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to do—tell him I backed over him with the car? Because I have no problem doing that."

I huffed. "No. Not now. It's too late. Our chance to tell him was before. If we tell him now he'll want to know what we did with his body, and we can't tell him we threw him away like garbage." Duh! How did she not know this?