Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Crime

“So. My two favorite cats!” Vena said, planting her hands on her sizable hips. Vena is a big and powerfully built woman, cast from the same mold that has produced the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger and John Cena. Then again, if you’re going to pull calves from cows you probably have to have superhuman strength.

“Hi, Vena,” I said quietly.

She grunted approvingly. “I think he likes me, Odelia.”

“Oh, he loves you. They both do. In fact they can’t wait to come and see you.”

“And with good reason! They know I’ve got their best interests in mind!” She laughed loudly, and snapped the latches on our carriers, then picked me up and placed me on the examination table.

I gulped as I plunked down. I knew I had no other choice. If I tried to escape she would simply grab me by the scruff of the neck and haul me back. And that’s when the prodding and the poking began, just like I’d anticipated.

“Shouldn’t she be doing me first?” asked Dooley. “The tick…”

“There is no tick!” I yelled, losing my patience. In my defense, I was under extreme duress, as Vena’s hands had just prodded me in the belly, one of my many sensitive areas.

She proceeded to pull my ears, check inside them with a flashlight—probably in search of hidden treasure—and wrench my mouth open to check my teeth. All the while, she made these low grunting sounds that scared the bejeezus out of me. Finally, she placed some kind of round metal object against my chest, stuck what looked like a pair of earphones into her ears and frowned thoughtfully.

“Ha ha!” I yelped as she dug that metal thing into my fur. “It tickles!”

She staunchly ignored me, Odelia’s hands firmly holding me down, Vena listening intently. I remembered from last time she was only trying to listen to my heartbeat but it was still scary.

“Myes. Myes,” the vet finally muttered. “Just what I thought. Your cat is fat, Odelia.”

“What?!” I cried. “Not true! I’m big-boned! It runs in the family!”

“I know,” said Odelia, gently stroking my fur. “I noticed this morning when he had trouble jumping up on the bed.”

“The mattress became bigger overnight!”

“Yep,” said Vena, patting my head. “That is one obese tabby.”

“It’s the breed! I’m a tiger cat. We’re big. We have to be, so we can prowl the jungle.”

“Is that true?” asked Dooley from the floor. “Are you really a tiger cat?”

“It’s something I read on The Google,” I said desperately.

“I thought it was just Google, without the article?”

“Shut up, Dooley! I’m fighting for my life here!”

“I indulge him too much, don’t I?” asked Odelia.

“Don’t beat yourself up, honey,” said Vena. “A lot of people do. But he has to go back on a diet, I’m afraid. If not, all that fat is going to start taxing his heart. I can hear a definite murmur, which tells me his heart has to work too hard. Over time, he might also develop diabetes and a host of other ailments. So if you want to keep your Max happy and healthy, you’re going to have to do the work.”

“I am happy,” I said, though that stuff about diabetes and murmurs kinda gave me pause.

“Did you hear that, Max?” asked Odelia, bending down to look into my eyes. “If I want you happy and healthy I’m going to have to put you on a diet. And you know what that means.”

“Oh, God, not again,” I muttered.

“I love you, Max. I don’t want you to get sick on me, you hear? I need you fit and healthy.”

“I hear you,” I said resignedly. Murmurs and diabetes? Who needs that crap?

“Do you still remember what you gave him last year?” Vena asked.

“I think I kept the receipt.” And while she and Vena worked out my diet, I jumped from the examination table. I landed with a dull thud, and Odelia looked down, then nodded. “Yep. Too fat.”

“I’m sorry, Max,” said Dooley commiseratingly. “If you want, you can have some of my food.”

“No, I better not,” I said, plunking down on the floor. To be honest, I was starting to feel the strain of carrying all this extra weight around. Vena was probably right. I wasn’t as agile as I used to be, and it wasn’t a lot of fun. And I had an obligation as a feline sleuth to help Odelia, and I couldn’t do that if I couldn’t even chase suspects around now could I?

“So you’re actually going to do this?” asked Dooley.

“Yep. Looks like I am.” I heaved a deep sigh. “The things I do for my human…”

And then it was Dooley’s turn. He was picked up and subjected to a similar examination. When it was all over, he asked in a tremulous voice, “Am I going to die?”

Odelia smiled. “What’s the verdict, Vena?”

“He’s a little too scrawny for my taste,” said the doctor. “Not enough muscle tissue. I think he needs to go on a diet, too. Only a protein-building diet.”

“Oh, God—I don’t want to go on a diet!” Dooley cried. “I’m not fat!”

“You’re going to have to eat more, Dooley,” Odelia said.

He abruptly stopped his whimpering. “Eat more?”

“You’re too skinny.”

“Too skinny? Is that even possible?”

“What about parasites?” asked Odelia. “Or ticks?”

“He’s perfectly fine—they both are,” the doctor assured Odelia. “But like I said, Max is too fat and Dooley is too skinny. So you’re going to have to put them both on a diet.”

And thus ended our annual visit to the vet. Dooley was going to have to eat more and me… less. Bummer! Then again, it could have been worse. We could have suffered from any of the diseases listed in Vena’s waiting room. Or… ticks. And as we rode back home with Odelia, I shivered when I thought of Shanille. There would be no more choir practice for a while. At least until I was reasonably sure that Vena had taken care of our conductor’s tick problem. Brrrr!

Chapter 10

Odelia thought it was a little awkward to go the gym in the middle of a murder investigation, especially since she’d already spent so much time with the cats at Vena’s, but a promise was a promise. She and Chase had decided to be gym buddies and there was no way she was going to weasel out now.

She’d dumped her gym gear into the pickup before she set out for the vet, and now parked her car in front of the gym, which was located in a strip mall just outside of town. The same strip mall housed what had once been The Vitamin King, a health food store operated by Donovan Rubb, who’d used it to sell drugs and other illegal substances beneath the counter. Since Rubb was busted, the store now housed a nail salon, and not a bad one either.

She let the cats out of the car. They could use some fresh air after the ordeal they’d gone through at the hands of Vena. They’d taken it well, she thought, all things considered, and she had to resist the urge to buy them both a treat. No more junk food. From now on, they were going on a strict diet, Dooley to bulk up and Max to slim down.

She slung her gym bag over her shoulder and walked up to Triple Platinum Gym. It was rumored that some of the celebrities that visited the Hamptons trained here, or at least the ones who didn’t have a private gym installed at their multi-million-dollar mansions. She looked up when the roar of a motorcycle sounded behind her, and a leather-clad biker rode up on a powerful machine. He waved at her so she waved back, wondering if this could be Brad Pitt or Leonardo DiCaprio, ready to lift some weights. When the biker removed his helmet and shook out his shoulder-length hair, however, a smile curled up her lips.

“Hey, Chase. You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

He directed a cheeky grin at her, his eyes smiling. “Thanks. So are you ready for the workout from hell?”