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LAUGHTER, EVEN THE WEIGHTLESS AND unburdened laughter of good friends, fades away in time. When it faded, the weight of reality dragged them all down.
“The Rat Catchers,” said Spider. “What are we going to do about them?”
“What can we do?” asked Alethea glumly. “Much as I want to beat their heads in and keep beating them until I feel better—which might take a while—there’s a lot of them and they have guns.”
“We have to find out about them,” insisted Spider.
“Sure,” said Alethea, “and then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, once we find out, what do we do? If those two old farts are right and half the town council and some of the guards are in on it, what can we do without getting in more trouble? This isn’t one of your comic books, Spider. We don’t have superpowers and there’s no one we can call, like in those novels you read. When you can’t trust the cops, who do you call?”
“Not all the guards are involved,” said Gutsy. “Karen Peak is cool. And the guards who got beaten up. They can’t be in on it.”
“Don’t make any assumptions,” warned Alethea.
Spider nodded. “Besides, even if they’re all innocent, that’s only three people, two of whom are in the hospital. Really some army we’re putting together. Maybe we can get old Mr. Kilroy and his blind cat, too.”
But Gutsy shook her head. “First things first. I want to go talk to Karen and see what she knows. Then Sombra and I are going hunting. I bet between his nose and what the Chess Players told me, I can find that lab.”
Spider leaned forward and studied her, his face screwed up with concern. “And then what?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Gutsy. “And before you ask, I can’t even work out a rough plan because I don’t have enough information. Investigate first, plan next.”
“What book is that from?” asked Alethea.
“The Book of Gutsy,” she replied.
63
KAREN PEAK WAS JUST LEAVING her office to head home when Gutsy and Sombra caught up with her.
“Got a sec?” asked Gutsy, fallin
g into step with her.
The security officer smiled. “Sure. What’s up?”
There was no one on the street, so Gutsy took a chance and asked, “Karen . . . what do you know about the Rat Catchers?”
Karen stared at Gutsy with wide eyes that were instantly filled with fear. “What? How do you even know that name?”
Gutsy faced her and felt a tightness in her chest. “Then you do know them? Who are they?”
Karen went pale. In a fierce whisper, she said, “Listen to me, Gabriella, you can’t say that name. You can’t ever mention them. You’ve never heard of them and you won’t ever talk about them. Do you understand me?”
“No,” said Gutsy, “I don’t. I want you to tell me who they are.”
Karen shook her head. “I . . . I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
The panic in Karen’s eyes gave her the answer. She was too terrified of the Rat Catchers to talk about them. That much was obvious; but Gutsy thought she saw something else. Karen was afraid, but she didn’t look guilty. Or angry. Or hostile. Just scared. Did that mean she knew something but wasn’t involved?
Sombra stood next to Gutsy, glaring up at the older woman.
Karen looked at the dog and chewed her lip nervously. “You never told me where you found that dog.”
