“Mew … mew … mew …” There was more than one cat out there. I found myself hoping they were good diggers as I tried in vain to push myself out of the pile of wood and stone I was buried in.

“Over here!”

Was that Striker?

I felt the pile shift and heard the noise of wood and stone being thrown aside. A shaft of daylight appeared and I turned my face to it, sucking in a lungful of clean air.

“Chance! Are you okay?” Striker’s concerned face came into view and I nodded.

A large black cat poked his face near mine as Striker continued to dig me out. A Siamese traced its rough tongue on my nose. An orange tomcat sat off to the side, sizing me up. Weren’t these Elspeth’s cats? How in the world had they gotten all the way down here?

“Willa!” Bing Thorndike came into view, his eyes ringed with compassion. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Is anything broken?” Striker asked.

I tried out all my limbs, wiggling my fingers and toes. Everything seemed to work. In fact, I was surprised my leg wasn’t hurting more than it was. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, hold on.” Striker grabbed under my arms and pulled me the rest of the way out.

“I’ll take the book and keep it safe for you,’ Bing said.

“Book?” I frowned in the direction Bing was looking and noticed I had an old book clutched to my chest. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I knew it was important. Looking up at Bing’s smiling face, I got the overwhelming feeling that giving him the book was the right thing to do.

I handed it over.

Bing took the book, holding it carefully, then gave me a knowing look and I felt like everything was all right even though I had no idea why.

“What happened?” Striker asked.

“I don’t remember.” My brows mashed together as I looked at the gaping hole in the side of the Bates mansion. There had been an explosion, obviously, but I didn’t remember what I had been doing here in the first place.

“Let’s get you checked out.” Striker grabbed my hand and it exploded in pain.

“Ouch!” I pulled my hand back turning it over to reveal blisters and raw skin.

Striker’s eyes clouded with concern, he reached for my hand again.

“Let me see.” He looked it over gently. “Looks like you got a bad burn. I’m going to take you over to the ambulance and get this bandaged.”

Putting his arm around me, Striker led me to the front of the house, which was loaded with police cars and an ambulance. I glanced back over my shoulder to where I’d been buried in the pile. It was out of sight of the main activity.

“How did you find me over there?” I wondered.