Manfred had a choice at that moment. (Afterward, he thought of it as his “The Lady, or the Tiger?” moment.) He could try to warn Bertha, grab her, and bring her into his house, just as he had Lewis—or he could leave her to the mercy of the tigers.

He felt something very like relief when the choice was taken out of his hands.

34

Outside, with the moon radiating a gentle glow—intermittently, since clouds were drifting through the sky—Olivia felt more alive than she had since Lemuel had left for New York. She’d been atop Manfred’s roof since he’d left for Home Cookin with the lawyer. Since sunset, she’d been watching the tigers prowl through Midnight.

Olivia was almost certain she’d seen three. But like Fiji, she couldn’t tell them apart, and they’d never been all together.

Only one of the big cats was in sight now, and it was right below her. The woman who’d been looking through Manfred’s window had backed against the wall, and Olivia could hear her breathing—ragged, uneven breaths, almost like crying. Olivia hadn’t been able to get a good look at the woman, but she was fairly certain it was Bertha, and she was delighted at Bertha’s appearance here in Midnight.

Bertha stayed put until the tiger advanced and batted at her with a huge paw. Then Bertha bolted. Olivia watched, transfixed, as the tiger overtook her with one bound.

At least it was quick. The last shriek was cut off like a knife.

Olivia supposed that now the tiger would dispose of the corpse in the most practical manner.

But the tiger who’d made the kill didn’t get to consume his prey. An even larger tiger suddenly appeared from the brush-strewn acres that lay between Midnight and the river. The new arrival shoved the killer away from the corpse. Olivia figured the larger tiger would now eat the corpse himself, but he didn’t. He made a huffy, chuffy noise and rubbed up against the killer. Olivia thought, He’s telling him he shouldn’t eat people.

The killer tiger made a halfhearted lunge at the new arrival, but the larger tiger simply butted him back. Then a third tiger emerged from the shadows behind the pawnshop. But he didn’t interfere. He turned silently and crossed Witch Light Road in a single bound.

As far as Olivia could tell, the tiger passed between Fiji’s house and the fence around the pet cemetery. Then it vanished into the night, heading south, perhaps to the Braithwaite ranch. After some silent interaction, which was surely communication, the other two followed.

Olivia waited a few minutes before swinging down. She landed in a neat crouch and knocked on Manfred’s door. “They’re gone,” she called.

The door opened. “Thank God,” Manfred said. “You’re okay, then? What about Bertha?”