I moved slowly through the space, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger—or of Mr. Fulton’s return. At first everything appeared normal, but then a swath of bright purple lying in a heap under his desk caught my eye. Wheeling the chair back, I bent down for a closer look.
And came face-to-cup with a frilly silk bra. It was way fancier than anything I would ever wear, and too sexy for Diane. Could that mean…?
I didn’t want to believe the worst about my boss, but I was already beginning to suspect him of murder, so maybe adultery wasn’t too far a stretch by comparison.
As easy as it would be to peg this whole thing on the most obvious and immediate suspect, I still had a hard time picturing my favorite boss as the killer of a kindly old cat lady.
It just didn’t make any sense. He’d always seemed like such a nice guy even, and perhaps especially, for a lawyer. Had it all been a ruse to lull us all into overlooking his culpability?
But why now?
Why would he kill his aunt? Was it cold and calculated or more of a passion thing? It sure seemed that slipping poison into someone’s dinner was something you planned in advance. If he’d really done this horrible thing—had slowly and surely carried it out—then why did he seem so frazzled now?
I just couldn’t figure it out, but one thing was for sure: I needed to get out of there before I was caught purple-handed with this newfound evidence. Sure, what exactly it was evidence for remained to be seen, but soon the truth about everything would come out.
Yes, even if I had to force it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ididn’t see Mr. Fulton for the rest of the day, which only raised my suspicions that much more. Diane called just before the end of my shift to check in, and I absolutely hated disappointing her with my lack of news.
On the drive home, I rolled down my windows and let the cool ocean breeze sweep through my car. It was really quite nice to be able to drive without claws stuck into my thighs for a change. And, speaking of claws, I really hoped Octo-Cat hadn’t made a disaster of my house while I was away.
A few short minutes later I pulled into the gravel lot of my rental, sucked in as much fresh air as I could, and entered expecting the worst.
Octo-Cat greeted me at the door by rubbing against my pant leg and shaking his tail. “You were gone forever!”
I thought about bending down to pet him but didn’t want to spoil his mood so soon after returning. “Just a little longer than my normal nine to five. Not forever,” I explained.
“Nine to five? Sounds like a prison sentence to me.” He had a point; I could give him that.
“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly wrong,” I admitted with a weary sigh.
“Then why do you go?” He sat down and studied me without hissing, flicking his tail, or otherwise expressing displeasure. Had he been body-snatched while I was away? This was definitely not the crabby tabby I’d come to know and loathe.
I rubbed my index finger and thumb together. “It’s all about the Benjamins, babe. And what’s this? You actually missed me?” I didn’t want to risk turning him back into a striped version of Grumpy Cat, but I had to know.
He shrugged. “I like knowing you’re nearby. You know, in case I need some fresh Evian or help with a particularly tricky hairball.”
That made me laugh. “Thank goodness you survived.”
He grinned like… well, like the Cheshire cat, then informed me, “Speaking of which, it’s time for my supper.”
I saluted him and headed for the kitchen. After I plopped a fresh chunk of pâté down for him and filled a cup with Evian, I proceeded to tell him what a good cat he was, just as I’d been instructed earlier that day.
When he finished his evening meal, he jumped up onto the counter and said, “Well done. You may pet me now.”
“Um, okay.” It felt strangely intimate to run my fingers through his brown and black fur and rub him all the way from the top of his head down to the base of his tail. It felt even stranger to hear him purr.
“You’re welcome,” he said after a few more strokes. “I know you’ve been wanting to do that for a while, and—hey—you’ve earned it. But please stop now or I will have to bite you.”
I yanked my hand away faster than you could say, “Oh, brother.” Then I said it aloud anyway for good measure.
Octo-Cat hopped back onto the floor and guided me into the living room where my TV still sat tuned in to the kid’s channel I’d selected for him earlier that day. “Did you learn a lot today?” I asked with a smirk.
He yawned and nodded. “In between napping, yes.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me about my day?” I was eager to hear his thoughts about Mr. Fulton’s strange behavior coupled with the fact that he seemed to have gone missing.
“The thought hadn’t occurred to me,” he admitted with another yawn. “Besides, I still have so much more to tell you about mine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Please go ahead.” I took a seat on the couch and motioned for him to regale me with all the many, varied events that had filled his day. It was the least I could do after he’d managed not to wreck everything I owned in some kind of irrational hissy fit as I had expected.
He jumped onto the coffee table and paced back and forth, speaking rapidly as he recounted his day. “First I woke up hungry as I often do. It took me a while to get you out of bed, and even longer to teach you how to properly serve me my morning repast. All in all, I’d give you a C for effort. Average, but not special.”
“Okay, great. Can we skip ahead please?” I asked in irritation. I’d never met someone who could turn on a dime as quickly as this cat. One moment he lovingly greets me at the door and the next he’s back to insulting me. This inconsistency seemed to be a staple of his character. At least I could trust him to always tell me exactly what was on his mind. That had to count for something, especially when it came to solving a murder mystery.
Octo-Cat continued to pace back and forth, speaking in rhythm with his quick steps. “After you left, I watched the cartoon girl solve mysteries using the items in her backpack. We should really get a backpack to help with our case, too. Oh, and a map.”
I chuckled, which apparently was the wrong response.
“I’m dead serious here,” he said, his amber eyes boring into my blues. “I also learned about pineapples under the sea and other oddities of the human world. I’m understanding your language a bit better, but you as a species a lot less. Why broadcast shows about a sea sponge and his pet snail? Why not focus on your own species, or at least a superior species like the Felis catus?”
“Um, I don’t really have an answer to that one. People do weird things all the time, like commit murder or have affairs. You’ll never believe what I discovered today at work.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will believe it. You humans are also quite predictable,” he informed me, plopping his rear down on the coffee table and wagging his tail ominously. “But first I must tell you about the rest of my day.”
There was more? How much more could there possibly be?
I really wasn’t looking forward to a blow by blow of all the cartoons he’d watched that day, especially not when we had far more important matters to discuss. Still, it seemed important to him that I give him my undivided attention, so I leaned back into the couch cushions and motioned for him to continue.
“At first I tried napping on the back of the couch, but I found it too lumpy for my liking. After scouring the premises, I found the perfect spot where a patch of light landed on the carpet and warmed it nicely. I napped there for roughly an hour before the sun moved, rendering the spot unsatisfactory.”
He waited for me to say something, so I settled for, “Of course.”
Pleased, he continued, “Then I went to your bedroom and found a nice twist in the comforter where I made something of a burrow. Unfortunately, I was unable to jump down in time when I woke up with a hairball clogging my windpipe. So you may want to do a load of laundry before turning in for the night.”