Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Murder

This has given Odelia’s career quite a boost, and given her the reputation of a hard-nosed reporter. Her editor often asks her where she gets her information, but she’s been diligently protecting her sources— moi . If word ever got out that her sources all have whiskers, a furry tail and a propensity for licking their own genitalia, she’d probably be front-page news herself.

“I should probably do an interview with this Chase Kingsley.”

She took a tentative sip from her coffee and perked up. It’s something I’ve never understood about humans. How they can drink that horrible brew. I’ve jumped up on this kitchen counter once or twice to have a lick at the stuff, and I can’t get over the terrible taste. I’ll take a piece of chicken liver every time.

“You should. I hear he’s one of those hunkishly handsome guys.”

She looked up at this. “Hunkishly handsome?”

“And single, if the word on the street is to be believed. At least that’s what Harriet told me.” I shook my head disgustedly. “Probably one of those playboy types who goes around hitting on every woman in sight.”

“I’ll bet he’s not,” said Odelia, taking the next seat.

“Oh, yes, he is. If Harriet is mooning over Chase Kingsley you can rest assured he’s the playboy type. She’s always falling for that kind of guy.”

“She can’t fall for that kind of guy,” said Odelia, making a funny face. “Harriet is a cat, Max. Cats don’t fall for humans. It’s simply not possible.”

“Oh, yes, they do. Cats fall for humans all the time, only not for the same reason humans fall for other humans. When we fall for one of you it’s because you provide us with a great home, great food and great cuddles.”

“And why does Harriet think this Chase Kingsley provides all of that?”

“Because he’s got a cat of his own. A nasty brute called Brutus. I met him last night and he’s a real piece of work. And if his owner is anything like him, we’ve got another thing coming in this town. Do you know what he told me?”

She took a swig from her coffee. “What?”

I lowered my voice. “He only eats meat. No kibble. Can you believe it?”

She laughed. “Sounds to me like you’re jealous, Max.”

“Hey, I’m the least jealous cat in this town.”

“Why does eating meat make Brutus a bad cat?”

“Because… who gives their cat only raw meat? It’s simply not done!”

She nodded. “Who’s got the money, right?”

“Exactly. You certainly don’t.” If this came across as a barb, I didn’t mean it. I totally get how Odelia can’t afford to feed me filet mignon every day. Not on a reporter’s salary.

But if I expected her to be offended, I was mistaken. Instead, a keen look had appeared in her eyes. “Do you think this Chase Kingsley is rich?”

“I doubt it. A cop? Rich? Highly unlikely.”

“Maybe he comes from money?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so, honey. If he did, either Brutus or Harriet would have told me. The guy’s a genuine blabbermouth, and so is Harriet, as you well know.”

“Know what?” asked a voice from the door.

Chapter 2

Oh, crap. That’s the problem with cats. They tread so softly you never hear them coming until they’re already upon you.

“Hey, Harriet,” I said when the white Persian strode into the kitchen. As usual, she was looking haughty, her nose in the air. I swear she thinks she’s the Queen of Sheba or something. Or the Queen of Hampton Cove, at least.

“We were just saying how well-informed you always are,” said Odelia.

Nice save. “Yeah, how you always seem to know everything about everybody,” I added sweetly.

She smiled at this. You might be surprised that cats can smile, but they can. Again, it’s the hair. It obscures many of our facial tics. “It’s true,” she said complacently. “I do know everything about everybody all of the time.”

“Max was just telling me about this new cop in town,” said Odelia.

“Chase Kingsley,” she said, nodding. “He’s a dreamboat.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned. “Here we go again.”

“No, he is,” she insisted. “He’s just about the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve laid eyes on my fair share of men over the years.”

Listening to Harriet, you would almost think she’s a human herself, which is a phenomenon quite common amongst cats. They spend so much time with humans they get confused. It’s called cross-species confusion. It’s a thing. It really is. At least I think it is. “If he’s as handsome as Brutus, I can tell you you’re blind, Harriet,” I said now. “That guy isn’t handsome. He’s scary.”

“There’s nothing scary about Brutus,” she said huffily. “He’s one fine cat.”

“He’s a bully, that’s what he is, and I don’t like him one bit. Barging in here as if he owns the place.” Then suddenly it dawned on me what Harriet had said. I narrowed my eyes at her. “How would you know what Chase Kingsley looks like? Did you see him?”

“I sure did.” Her face took on a beatific quality. “He looks lovely when he sleeps. Like an incredibly buff angel.”

Odelia barked an incredulous laugh. “You watched him sleep?”

“Of course. I walked Brutus home last night and he invited me in. Who was I to say no? Especially when it gave me the chance to get a glimpse of the new cop in town. And I have to say Chase Kingsley is everything Brutus said he was and more.” She emitted a giggle. “He sleeps in his boxers. No PJs.”

If I could have, I would have covered my ears with my paws. “Please, Harriet. Don’t make me puke.”

“He sleeps in his boxers?” asked Odelia.

Harriet gave her tail a studious lick. “Boxers… and nothing more. Très cute.”

I held up my paw. “Enough already. Brutus is a bully and I’m pretty sure so is his master. Or have you forgotten that pets and their owners often share distinctive traits?”

“Oh, please. Odelia’s blond and you’re orange.”

“Blorange. I’m blorange, which is almost the same thing as blond.”

“I’m sure that’s not even a real color.”

“It is a color,” I assured her. “It’s strawberry blond, with gold rose hues.”

“You’re such a freak,” Harriet sighed, shaking her snowy white fur.

“Hey, don’t use the word freak in my house,” warned Odelia. “That’s not nice. Now tell me more about this new cop. Where does he live?”

“He’s staying at Chief Alec’s for the moment. Until he can find his own place.”

Odelia’s eyes were positively glittering with interest. So I gave her a warning scowl. “Don’t listen to Harriet. The guy is a bully. Waltzing into town as if he owns the place. Leaving his repulsive pee all over the place.”

Odelia frowned. “Leaving his pee? You mean Chase Kingsley is a public urinator? That’s not right for a cop. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Not Kingsley, Brutus. Though I wouldn’t put it past Kingsley either.”

“How would you know? You haven’t even met the guy,” Harriet challenged.

“I just know these things. I’m a great judge of character.”

“You’re simply jealous because both Brutus and Chase are alpha males and you’re not.”

“They’re bullies,” I pointed out. “There’s a distinction.”

She turned to Odelia. “You should snap him up now, Odelia, if you want to have a shot at him. He’s bound to become very popular very soon.”

This appeared to be one bridge too far for Odelia, though. “I have no intention whatsoever to snap anyone up,” she said, her smile vanishing. “The only reason I’m asking is because I’ll need to write a piece about the guy.”