Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Santa

Her uncle Alec was aware of this unique talent. Chase? Not so much, though by now he was used to this quirky side of her personality. He even thought it was cute. She’d never told him she could communicate with her cats, though, and probably never would. He might not take it too well.

She thought about Chase and a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through her chest. She’d never thought she would fall for the rugged cop but she had. And by the looks of things, he liked her, too, which was a real boon. They even shared a comfortable working relationship now, which was very different from the way things were when they first met. The burly cop, a recent transplant from the NYPD, wasn’t used to nosy reporters investigating a bunch of crimes alongside him. Fortunately she’d quickly proven her worth, and now he was more than happy to allow her to tag along.

As if he’d read her mind, Max asked, “So how are things between you and Chase?”

“Yeah,” Harriet chimed in. “When are you going to get married?”

She saw how Max and Dooley shared a quick look of panic and laughed. “Hold your horses, young lady. Who said anything about me and Chase getting married?”

“It’s all over town,” said Harriet with a shrug. “All the cats are talking about it.”

“Which means all the Hampton Covians are talking about it,” Max said.

That was true enough. The Hampton Cove cat community was like a barometer of the human community. She blushed slightly. “So what are they saying, exactly?”

“Well, that the wedding will take place later this year, though it might be sooner rather than later because the first baby is already underway.” The gorgeous Persian screwed up her face. “What is a shotgun wedding, Odelia?”

Odelia’s blush deepened. “A shotgun wedding? Is that what they’re saying?”

All four cats nodded. “I think it means that everybody brings a shotgun to the wedding,” said Brutus knowingly.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Max. “Why would anyone bring a shotgun to a wedding? That’s just dumb.”

“Who are you calling dumb, fatso? They’re obviously bringing shotguns to make sure nobody crashes the wedding. Duh.”

“Crashes the wedding?” asked Dooley. “Is that even a thing?”

“Didn’t you see that movie last week? Wedding crashers ? Two guys go around crashing weddings and having a blast,” said Brutus.

“Until they fall in love and get married themselves,” said Harriet. “I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. Though I didn’t like that they portrayed Bradley Cooper as such a nasty person. I like Bradley Cooper. He’s so handsome and cute.”

“He’s not that handsome,” said Brutus. “His mouth is too big for his face.”

“It is not. His mouth is just the right size.”

“The right size for what?” scoffed Brutus. “To load a Big Mac in one bite?”

“Listen, you guys,” said Odelia, interrupting this fascinating discussion of Bradley Cooper’s face. “For one thing, Chase and I are not getting married. And for another, I’m not pregnant so there won’t be a shotgun wedding.”

“That’s too bad,” said Harriet, her face falling. “I was looking forward to being a bridesmaid.”

“That’s impossible,” said Max. “Cats can’t be bridesmaids. That’s just preposterous.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying, Max? That I wouldn’t make a wonderful bridesmaid? For your information, I would be the perfect bridesmaid. I don’t even have to wear a dress. I’m beautiful just the way I am.”

Odelia smiled. “That’s true. And if I ever get married, you guys will all get to come.”

Max groaned. “Do I have to? I hate weddings. Everybody is always crying. Those things are even worse than funerals.”

“People are crying because they’re happy, Max,” said Odelia. “Those are happy tears.”

“I don’t get it,” said the blorange cat. “Why cry when you’re happy? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does,” said Harriet. “You wouldn’t understand, though, Max. And that’s because you’re a Neanderthal.”

“No, I’m not,” said Max. “I’m a cat, not a Neanderthal.”

“What’s a Neanderthal?” asked Dooley.

“It’s a kind of old human,” said Max. “With a lot of hair and a big mouth.”

“Like Bradley Cooper,” said Brutus.

“Bradley Cooper is not a Neanderthal!” Harriet snapped. “Bradley Cooper is gorgeous.”

“More gorgeous than me?” asked Brutus, stung.

Harriet’s face softened. “Of course not, cutie pie. Nobody can be more gorgeous than you.”

“Maybe you should have one of those shotgun weddings,” Max grumbled. “So I can bring a shotgun and shoot myself.”

“We’re here,” said Odelia cheerfully, cutting off all this nonsense about a shotgun wedding. She just hoped those rumors hadn’t reached her mother’s ears. Nobody likes to hear about their daughter’s supposed pregnancy and forced wedding because of gossip. Then again, maybe it was a good thing. If people thought she and Chase were about to get married, she should probably take it as a compliment. Though the town’s gossip mill was obviously getting a little ahead of itself this time around.

True, there had been a lot of kissing lately, but things hadn’t progressed beyond that. Yet. Did she want them to go beyond that stage? Maybe. Did Chase want to? She had absolutely no idea. Chase was one of those strong, silent types. The ones that don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Beyond those kisses they had yet to address whatever it was that was going on between them. Heck, he hadn’t even asked her out. Maybe he never would? Maybe those kisses were just a way of showing his appreciation for all she’d done for the community? Maybe it was an NYPD thing: instead of shaking hands, NYPD cops simply kissed their colleagues. It was definitely not something she’d ever seen on NYPD Blue . Then again, they never showed everything on those shows.

She parked right behind her uncle’s squad car and got out, allowing the four cats to jump from their respective seats.

“Let’s go, guys,” she said. “You know the drill. Talk to witnesses. Try to find out what happened here.”

She watched the cats traipse up to the house and smiled. Her own personal feline detective squad. She wouldn’t know what to do without them.

She watched her uncle take off his sunglasses and take in their surroundings. Donna Bruce had done well for herself, that much was obvious. The house was built in hacienda style, with a low red-tile roof and stuccoed orange outer walls.

“Nice place,” said Uncle Alec admiringly. “Though more like something one would expect in the Hollywood Hills than out here in Hampton Cove.”

“Isn’t Donna originally from Los Angeles?”

“She is. She only moved out here to put some distance between herself and her ex-husband. And because her company is headquartered in New York.”

“This is such a coincidence,” Odelia said as she watched the police activity around the house. Half a dozen squad cars were haphazardly parked on the circular driveway, and an ambulance stood, lights flashing, indicating the coroner was already there.

“What is?” asked her uncle, hoisting his pants over his bulk and patting down his few strands of hair.

“Just this morning a package arrived from donna.vip for your mother.”

Chief Alec closed his eyes. “God, not again. I thought Marge put a stop to that nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“Didn’t she tell you? Your grandmother has been ordering those packages for weeks now. She’s addicted to that Donna crap. And the worst part? Your mom has been footing the bill as Vesta doesn’t have a credit card. Marge told me she’s up to five grand now.”