“Now there’s one human with a heck of a right-ear scratch,” Octo-Cat moaned as he watched her depart. “Those fingers are like a dream. You should have her give you some lessons before she goes.”
“Yeah. I like her very much, Mommy,” Paisley added with a wiggly butt and a merry voice.
“Great. I’m happy for you guys, but I can’t stay and chat. Sorry.” I stared down at them and bit my lip.
“Why not?” my cat demanded, marching straight up to me and placing a paw on my foot. As if that could stop me from going.
“There’s been a murder,” I whispered just in case anyone was eavesdropping on the stairs.
“Again?” My cat balked. “That’s like the third time this month.”
“It is not,” I argued with an indignant snort. “You have no sense of time. Like, at all.”
“Well, then it’s at least the third time this year,” he shot back.
Okay, maybe he was right about that. I didn’t have time to tick off all the murders we’d investigated on my fingers. Although I suppose it was a bad sign that I’d managed to lose count.
Most people stopped at one—or heck, never even got to one in the first place. Me, I had a good handful or two of murder investigations under my belt.
“Who’s the stiff this time?” my cat wanted to know.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” Paisley whined. “Am I going to get murdered, too?”
I reached down and picked her up. Her ears lay flat against her head and her eyes squinted as she shivered with fright.“You’re safe, Paisley. I promise.”
She whimpered and hid her face in the crook of my arm.“But why does everyone always get murdered when you’re around, then?”
Octo-Cat burst out laughing.
“Stop it,” I scolded him. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”
“That’s why I’m laughing,” he answered, then laughed some more. “And she’s not wrong. People get murdered around you all the time.”
“I barely knew the guy, okay? He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. It was a last-minute substitution, and—wait. Why am I explaining this to you? I have a case to solve. See you later.”
I set Paisley on the bed and gave her a loving pat on the head.“It’s okay,” I promised her. “Your big brother will watch out for you.”
“Says you.” Octo-Cat hopped up onto the bed. “I’m coming with you. I am your partner, after all.”
“No, you’re not. Things are chaotic enough down there without adding your fluffy behind into the mix.”
“But Angela—” he began in that droll voice of his.
I didn’t hear what he said after that because I’d already slammed the door behind me.
This was one case I needed to solve without my talking tabby partner. And fast.
I found Mr. Gable waiting for me in the second-floor hallway.“There you are. I was beginning to worry.” His forehead creased with even more wrinkles than usual. The poor old man looked wrung out.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked breathlessly.Please tell me things had not gotten worse in my short absence.
He kept his voice low while answering.“The guests are beginning to get a bit fussy. They want to know how they’re supposed to solve the murder mystery without any clues as to who the killer might be. They do have a point.”
This was definitely not good.
“Can’t you just make something up?” I asked, but before I’d even gotten the full question out Mr. Gable began shaking his head.
“I wish I were that creative, but I’m worried I’ll get my story crossed, and they’ll start to suspect something.”
“Charles,” I said at once knowing the answer to this one problem, at least.“He was born for this. Can you go outside and get him to switch places with you? You can help the police, and he can keep the guests occupied.”
“I’m on it,” Nan’s boyfriend assured me with yet another thumbs up. His overuse of the gesture was starting to irritate me, but at least he meant well. And he was buying us all the time we so desperately needed.
I peeked into the adoption room and saw Scarlett herding the cats into their cages… It was not going well. “Is Jinx back yet?” I called to her through a small crack in the door, unwilling to open it fully.
She looked up at me with a confused expression.“Who?”
“Oh, um, the cat who escaped,” I muttered quickly to cover my tracks. “The one with one eye.”
“His name is Captain Blackbeard,” she corrected me with a tired shake of her head. “And no, he’s still at large.”
“I’ll go find J—the Captain for you. Be right back,” I promised, shutting the door carefully and completely to avoid any other great escapes.
By the time I returned to the main floor, Charles was just returning from outside. I drew close and put a hand on his shoulder.“Is everything going okay out there?”
He sighed but still managed a smile for me.“Not really.”
“Any ideas as to who did it?” I whispered.
“I have lots of ideas, but no proof to go with them.”
“That’s what I’m working on finding. The proof. And also a one-eyed black cat that escaped. Any chance you’ve seen him?”
Charles squinted at me as he thought, then his entire face relaxed and he said,“Yes, actually. I believe Bonnie had him outside.”
“He’s with Bonnie? Why would she have him? And why was she outside with you when you were supposed to be alone?”
He raised his hands in self-defense.“It’s not like that. She was telling me about her case and asking for housing recommendations. She’s hoping to move to Glendale soon and needed a few tips.”
“Oh, I’ll give her a tip, all right,” I muttered under my breath.
Charles gave me a peck on the cheek.“It’s cute that you’re jealous. You have nothing to worry about, though.”
I nodded and forced a smile, because actually I had lots to worry about. There was a killer on the loose, a crowd of charity guests who could find out at any moment, and a gorgeous stranger who seemed to have far more than a professional interest in my boyfriend.
I’d solve all these problems before the night was through, mostly because I had no choice in the matter.
First, though, I was going to retrieve that naughty kitty.
Chapter Nine
I watched as Charles went to retrieve the event microphone from Nan. Once he had it, he jumped straight into a fascinating tale of murder and intrigue that I knew for a fact he was making up on the spot to appease our curious guests.
I listened for a few minutes to make sure the audience was buying it—they were—and then made my break.
Just in case anyone was paying attention to me, I chose to creep into the kitchen rather than heading straight through the front door. Beyond the kitchen, situated just past the pantry, a modest-sized mudroom lay tucked out of view from the main rooms. Inside were two doors, one that led into our garage and one that went straight out into the back garden.
I chose the latter, proceeding with slow and quiet movements until I was outside on the small stoop. The screen door clattered behind me, startling a willowy figure with sandy hair in the process.
He flinched and froze in place, as if doing so would somehow keep me from noticing him. Instead it gave me an even clearer view of his features, allowing me to recognize him in an instant.