Page 39 of Catnapped

I went down a few steps, turned, and raised a brow. “How do you know that?”

“Those are the only ways I can find a missing person. As for figuring that out, you can thank my mother. She was curious and had me do the experiment. I’m sometimes called in if they expect a body or violence. If I have a blood sample of the missing person, I can go to another blood sample. I’ve found murder sites that way before. The blood doesn’t count as the person if it’s not still in the person. Once it’s been spilled, it’s just another lifeless liquid. Once my mother clued into that, I did some experimentation, and that seems to be my limit. As far as wayfinders go, I’m not all that impressive, but I’m good if you’re trying to solve a murder mystery and there’s a blood sample. I’ve found corpses by their hair before. After a while, the hair on the corpse no longer classifies as a person, but that’s usually a day or two following brain death. Hair doesn’t really keep growing for long after death. People just think it does because the other cells are retracting as part of the putrefaction process.”

“I guess I won’t be growing epically long hair after death, then?”

“You would not be growing a mane, I’m afraid. That’s just a myth. My mother was really disappointed to hear that. She tried to convince my father to perform a miracle so she could have her hair continue to grow after death. He refuses.”

“Your mother is a marvel.” I resumed descending, taking my time so I wouldn’t trip, fall, and bash my brains out on the landing below. “I find the lack of railing in here to be disturbing.”

“Railings would make it harder to move equipment in and out. I bet there’s a larger trap door around the one we used to give space for equipment. The steps would make it tricky but doable, unless they have some massive pieces in here. Who knows? The equipment is probably long gone, claimed as a part of evidence. I’m not expecting to find much, and I’ll be looking for fingerprints to help give us more information on who might have been involved with the operation. If we’re lucky, we’ll find some paperwork that was obscured. That’ll be your job once we locate the lab.”

We turned the landing, which continued deep into the ground. “I feel like I should have asked if they were doing contagious disease experimentation on my cat now. Or if we’re likely to be targeted with a bunch of bombs. This deep, do you think we’d survive through a bombing?”

“That’s a really good question. Also, I agree. You should have asked. But if it was some form of contagious disease, wouldn’t there have been warning signs outside warning of plague or contagion? They have plague markers up in the mountains because of the rodent populations, so it would make sense they’d warn people if there was plague here.”

I contemplated bolting for the safety of the SUV and taking a turn caring for the kittens and momma cat. “It’s dark, and this is not the kind of scary story I want to hear in the dark, Darian.”

“I’d claim to protect you, but honestly, I’m kicking myself for only having brought one flashlight.” He directed the beam onto the ground. “In good news, this section seems clean of animals. It’s pretty tidy for something that’s been covered up for at least a year.”

I halted, crouched, and touched the concrete. Dust clung to my fingers. “There’s some dust.”

Darian pointed the light at the ceiling, which proved to be of more concrete. “Maybe some leftover bugs from when the lab was in use? Or the concrete has broken some during earthquakes?”

As I could buy into the earthquake theory, I decided to do my best to keep from thinking about what might have produced the dust on the steps. Rising to my feet, I resumed heading deeper. “If I see any centipedes, I’m out of here, Darian. You will have to battle it on your own. And if I faint because of some damned centipede, just let me crack my head open or something. I’ll deserve my fate.”

“I hope you can settle with me trying to catch you before battling the centipede. I might not battle it, though. I might just leave. I could be talked into taking you with me when I leave.”

I grinned. “If I faint and you have to rescue me from a centipede, it seems reasonable you can make demands. Otherwise, my gravestone will inform the world I was killed by a bug.”

“But it’s a bug with way too many legs. It also is out to kill anything in its path, and they are the definition of terror. If I see a centipede, I’m leaving. I’ll be valiant and take you with me, however.”

“I also dislike scorpions.”

“I am sensing a trend,” Darian stated, and he pointed his flashlight at his chin in an attempt to make himself appear spooky. For the most part, it worked. “Creepy crawlies that are venomous scare you because you’re a sensible human being.”

“And I refuse to test if they’re poisonous. I absolutely refuse. I don’t care if you dunk them in chocolate and wrap that mess up in bacon. I will not eat venomous bugs in an attempt to determine if they’re also poisonous.”

“As I said. You’re a sensible human being. However, why would you put bacon and chocolate together?”

“Because it’s good?”

Darian gasped. “But why would you do that to bacon?”

“Have you never had chocolate and bacon together?”

“Never.”

“It’s good.” I grinned and continued down the steps. “So is candied bacon, and so is regular bacon. Chocolate is good in most of its forms as well.”

“I like bacon, and I like chocolate, but I am not sure if I want to try bacon and chocolate together. That said, I am far more willing to try bacon and chocolate together than I am to eat a centipede or a scorpion.”

“I am not ready to start eating bugs.”

“But what about shrimp or lobster?” Darian narrowed his eyes. “I really like shrimp and lobster. Technically, they’re bugs.”

“Why won’t you try other bugs if you like some bugs, then?” I smirked, well aware I could do hefty damage to a cocktail ring given half a chance. “Are you a selective bug hunter?”

“Yes, I am. I like when my bugs come from the ocean. It makes them special bugs and defy the rules of all other bugs. It could be I just really like salt, and they’re properly brined for my enjoyment. Watch your step. It looks like somebody dropped something heavy and broke the concrete ahead of you.”