Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Secret

Milo tsk-tsked mildly, probably the first time I’d ever seen a cat do that. “ Mi casa es su casa , Max. Which means my milk is your milk and vice versa. Now what can I offer you guys?” he continued, this time addressing Brutus, Harriet and Dooley. “I’ve got milk, kibble, some excellent Fancy Feast Seafood and of course the always-tasty Cat Snax.”

“Those are mine!” I cried. “Those are my Cat Snax and my Fancy Feast Seafood!”

“Oh, don’t be a miser, Max,” said Harriet as she strode right past me.

“Yeah, sharing is caring, pal,” said Brutus as he did the same.

“Thanks, Max,” said Dooley cheerily. “I love those Cat Snax of yours.”

And then they were all digging into my bowls, snacking on my favorite food!

Sharing is caring my furry butt!

I sank back on my haunches, haughtily draped my tail around my buttocks, and gave them all the stare. And the first one I directed my fearsome stare at was Milo, who was overseeing the feast as if he was the one who’d personally arranged all of it, the impudent jerk!

I have to admit, though, that no matter how hard I stared, it didn’t affect the others one bit or deter them from gobbling up all of my food. And when they’d finally polished off my last bowl, they all had drops of milk stuck to their beards, crumbs of Cat Snax decorating their whiskers, and Fancy Feast Seafood stuck to their lips.

Ugh. What a way to start the day.

Chapter 2

Odelia was staring out into the backyard, where her grandmother was digging holes into the ground, presumably to plant some of the bulbs she’d acquired. When Gran first moved in she’d mentioned how the backyard looked like a wasteland and that someone ought to do something about it. So now, since she didn’t have a lot to do, she’d just decided to dig in and do it herself.

Problem was, Odelia liked her backyard just fine. She liked grass. She liked how low-maintenance it was. And she liked the few rhododendron bushes she’d planted near the back, because all she needed to do was prune them from time to time, deadhead them, and sit back and enjoy the riot of color come springtime.

And now Grandma was determined to turn her backyard into some sort of garden of Versailles! There was even talk of installing a water fountain, a rock garden, and a fish pond!

Odelia didn’t know the first thing about fishes, or the dozens of plants Grandma had gotten at the garden center and was now transferring to the soil. They’d probably all need a lot of work to maintain, as would the fountain and the fish pond and its dozens of fishes.

She shook her head, still dressed in her Hello Kitty PJs, sipping from the coffee Grandma had made—extra-strong, just the way the old lady liked it—not so much the way Odelia liked it. And it was then that she noticed her cats seemed to be arguing about something.

“What’s up, guys?” she asked, popping a slice of bread into the toaster.

She frowned when Max suddenly jumped up onto the kitchen counter, something he never did.

“Max?” she said when he gave her a look of annoyance. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re eating my food,” he whispered.

She leaned in. “What was that? I didn’t catch that.”

“They’re eating my food!” he hissed, gesturing with his head to the four cats who sat licking and grooming themselves.

And true enough, the bowls were all empty.

“Oh, right,” said Odelia, and automatically reached into the cupboard where she kept the cat food and started filling up those bowls again.

“No, don’t do that!” Max hissed, and she moved closer.

“Aren’t you hungry, Max?” He rarely refused his food, and then only when he was sick. “Are you coming down with something?”

“Yes, I am! It’s called Milo and it’s worse than swine flu or flesh-eating bacteria!”

She smiled. “Max, I told you it’s only for a little while. Now please be nice to our guest. Sharing is caring, after all.” When Max produced a strange sound at this, like steam escaping from a pipe, she gave him a closer look. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with a bug? If you want I could call Vena. She does house calls, too.”

“No!” he yelled, horrified. “No, it’s fine.” Then, resigned, he added, “I’ll handle it.”

And he hopped from the counter, a defeated air about him.

Cats. Sometimes they had a hard time making new friends. Then she got a bright idea. She moved to the TV nook and turned on the TV, then fiddled around with the remote for a moment, flipping through the Netflix menus until she hit on the one she wanted.

This should do the trick.

“You guys!” she yelled. “Come in here for a moment, will you?”

Five cats came trotting up, Max the last one to join the small troupe.

On TV, an episode of Kit Katt & Koh was playing, the new Netflix show that was such a big hit. It told the story of Kit Katt, a regular young woman from a small town who worked as a reporter for the local newspaper and could talk to her cat Koh, who fed her bits of news he picked up from his feline friends. Almost as if the show’s creators had taken a long, hard look at Odelia’s own life!

“Ooh, it’s Kit Katt!” Harriet cried happily as she hopped onto the leather couch.

The others quickly followed suit, and Odelia watched on as her cat family settled in for the duration of the eppy. They all loved Kit Katt and especially the funny and feisty Koh.

Just then, her phone belted out the latest Dua Lipa hit and she hurried to the kitchen, where she’d left it on the counter. Her toast had popped and she took it out and placed it on a plate while she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Yeah, Chase.”

“Hey, babe. You’re up early.”

“Grandma,” she said, only needing one word to make her meaning clear.

“I feel your pain,” said Chase. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve got a case for you—and a hot tip straight from the front lines.”

“A murder? In Hampton Cove? No way.”

“Way. Does the name Dick Dickerson mean anything to you?”

“He’s the editor of the National Star , right? The supermarket tabloid?”

“He’s also dead. Killed in a pretty creative—and gruesome—way, I’m afraid.”

“You want me to join you?”

“Please. Your uncle is out of town for a couple of days, so I could use a hand.”

Odelia’s uncle, a widower, had recently met a woman. She worked for Dos Siglas, the famous beer company, and traveled the country handling the company’s PR and overseeing the shooting of their equally famous ‘Most Fascinating Man in the World’ commercials.

“I know. He told me. He and Tracy are going hiking in the Appalachian Mountains. Tracy’s company owns a cabin out there, where they often put up executives and guests.”

“For some reason I never pictured your uncle as the hiker type,” said Chase, and Odelia could hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s not,” said Odelia, also smiling. Uncle Alec was easily three times as big as she was, and had probably never worked out a day in his life. In fact he’d smoked like a chimney until only recently, and his cholesterol levels always made his brother-in-law, Odelia’s dad, who was a doctor, give him that unhappy look doctors like to give their worst patients.

“He must like that woman a lot, to give up a lifelong habit of being a couch potato.”

“Yeah, he’s smitten,” said Odelia, who was happy that her uncle, whose wife had died years ago, was finally ‘playing the field’ again, as they said. Even if there was only one woman on that field as far as Alec was concerned. “She’s nice,” she added. “I like her.”

“I like her, too,” said Chase. “So are you game, Poole?”