“And we’re not even sure of that,” she said as she peered under the sofa for the umpteenth time. Clara looked over at Laurel, but her sister had grown bored and tuned out, her caf? au lait side gently rising and falling as she napped.
“I mean, okay, it’s likely.” Becca, kneeling, looked around. “But it’s their business, not mine. Unless…” She bit her lip, and Clara knew she was thinking of Suzanne—and of possible motive. “At any rate, I need to tell him that pendant of his is here, somewhere. If only I could find it.”
Just then, Harriet came strolling into the living room. It was certainly close to lunchtime, but considering that her oldest sister had been in the bedroom, Clara wasn’t sure why she was licking her chops. And then it hit her.
“You ate it? That little gold toy you summoned?” She jumped off the sofa and approached her sister, reaching up to sniff at her whiskers.
“Yes, I did!” Harriet sounded quite pleased with herself as her sister proceeded with her examination.“So now you can get off my case about it,”she said smugly.
Clara sat back, waiting.
“I used a treat as a base.” Harriet couldn’t resist explaining.“Because it was something I wanted. So when I realized what Becca was looking for, I just turned it back and—yum. It had gotten a little stale, though.”
Clara could have hissed, she was so upset.“But now Becca will never find it!”
Harriet’s own ears flicked in annoyance.“Make up your mind, why don’t you?”her words a near snarl as she walked past her sister toward the kitchen.“First you tell me to get rid of it. Now you’re all hissy.”
“He must be frantic.” Becca’s words could have described her own state of mind, except for the gender. In fact, over the next hour, she did her best impersonation of an animal on a rampage, her search ramping up as she swiped papers off surfaces and tipped furniture over in a growing frenzy. By the time she had all the sofa cushions up, all three cats were seeking shelter on the windowsill. Quite unfairly, both Laurel and Harriet blamed their youngest sibling.
“I’m not the one who summoned a version of that thing!” Clara defended herself as best she could. She knew what those cold stares could mean, and she had no desire to have her ears boxed or her whiskers pulled. And if Harriet sat on her again…“I asked you not to do that anymore!”
It was hopeless. Harriet looked briefly at Laurel, who puffed herself up ever so slightly. Then, both turned to face Clara.
“It has come to our attention that you seem to think you’re the only magical cat in this household.”When Harriet spoke in that tone of voice, Clara knew better than to argue, even though her sister was being horribly unfair.“Time and again, recently, you’ve countered our quite natural desires to use our skills to entertain ourselves. And—”Clara couldn’t help herself and opened her mouth to object. One raised paw, claws just showing through the white fluff, stopped her, as Harriet continued.“And thwarted our natural desire to improve the life of our person, as is our duty.”
Biting down hard, Clara kept herself silent. Harriet was reciting the cats’ canon law.
“Instead, you seem to believe that you are the only one who can aid our human in her pursuits, or that you have some kind of special bond with her.”
With that, Harriet turned to Laurel, who stared at her little sister so hard that she began to go cross-eyed. That was the Siamese in her.“You don’t,” she added, her voice a growly undercurrent to Harriet’s pompous mew. The double vision was distracting, Clara knew, and silently thanked their mixed genetics for cutting the lecture short.
“She must be punished.” Harriet, still peeved about Clara’s interference and the loss of her toy, was not going to let the lesson go that easily.“I’m out a toy—and a treat!”
“You ate the treat.” Clara couldn’t help herself. Harriet turned on her with a snarl.
“Kitties, what is it?” Becca looked up from the floor, where she had surrounded herself with the sofa’s cushions, including—Clara noticed—Harriet’s tasseled creation. “You’re picking up on my mood, I guess. I’m sorry.”
She sat back with a sigh that made Clara yearn to go to her. Laurel must have noticed her posture, or maybe it was the way her rump rose as she readied to leap, because suddenly she felt a paw come down on her tail.“We’re not done yet, missy!”
This was too much. Clara turned and hissed, raising her paw—claws out—to her sister. Nothing was going to keep her from Becca! Only just then, the muted ring of the phone interrupted them.
“Oh no!” Becca jumped up and turned, tossing pillows as she searched frantically. “Where did I leave it?”
Seeing her moment, Clara pulled free and jumped down to the floor. Her superior hearing had already identified the location of the humming device, and with a nudge at Harriet’s pillow, she was able to uncover it.
Becca grabbed it up with a smile that was worth all the treats in the bag to the calico.“Bother.” She sounded a bit breathless from the search, but still she reached out to stroke Clara’s mottled back. “Well, at least there’s a message.”
Clara leaned in and closed her eyes. Her sisters would make her pay for her interference, but right then she didn’t care. Becca’s hand was warm and she pressed just hard enough to make Clara stretch as she worked her way from shoulders to tail and then—froze.
“Oh no.” Becca barely choked out the words. “I can’t believe I forgot to call the detective back,” she whispered in horror. “And now they’re asking me to come down to the station.”
Chapter 36
“Don’t say it!” Clara glared at her sisters as she waited by the door. There would be a reckoning, but no way was she letting Becca talk to the police by herself. Not that she was sure what, exactly, she could do.
“Maybe I can convince her to run for it.” Laurel had picked up on their person’s distress and was stalking back and forth while Becca hurriedly changed her shirt. In all the tumult, it had gotten quite dusty.
“I could bring the amulet back.” Harriet hiccupped, her shoulders bouncing in an alarming fashion.
“No, please.”Clara did her best to keep her tone polite.“You don’t have to.”She ducked her head in the feline equivalent of a curtsy to both Harriet and Laurel.“I think it’s best if she just tells them the truth—what happened without any magic. I’ll report back.”Becca had emerged from her bedroom, smoothing her hair back as if she were indeed feline, and now she was reaching for the door.“I promise!”
***
Clara stayed close to her person as she hurried through the busy streets. In a way, Becca’s distraction helped—there was no way she was looking around for one small, shaded cat, even one with an orange patch over one eye. It helped that the day had progressed as well, giving Clara her choice of afternoon shadows to choose from as she leaped and darted to keep up with her person’sprogress.
It was only when Becca neared the stairs to the Cambridge precinct that Clara held back. That tall, stone building, with its heavy doors, was too much like a cage for her liking. And truth be told, what could she do if the people inside were to hold Becca against her will?
Maybe she did have some of Laurel’s power, because Becca paused, as if constrained by the same fears. As Clara watched, Becca stepped off the sidewalk, almost as if she too could disappear in the shade of the sickly maple that grew out of the pavement nearby.
“Blessed goddess, hear my plea…” Clara caught the words, barely audible, of a protective spell, one that the coven had recited only weeks before. Becca didn’t seem to remember that Suzanne had been the one who found it—and had been rather expert at reciting it. Maybe, thought the cat, as she watched her person make a complicated gesture behind her back, it was just as well humans didn’t have any real power. If only she had a way of telling Becca that at least one of her pets was watching out for her. Standing there, murmuring—these people seemed to believe that everything had tobe repeated three times—she looked so anxious that Clara longed to jump up into her arms.