Молли Фитц - Kitty Confidential

“It’s okay,” I coaxed, apparently unable to play it cool. “Diane told me the truth. At least, I think she did.”

I turned to Mr. Fulton. “Is she really your daughter?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison, both regarding me with similar expressions.

“How come you didn’t just tell me that?” I asked Bethany, recalling the hard time I’d given her at the funeral. Of course I felt terrible now.

“I didn’t want it getting out,” Mr. Fulton explained. “Diane was already so upset.”

I glanced back toward Bethany. “Did you know all this time?”

“Not all this time. I suspected he might be my mysterious missing father when I took my position at the firm, but we only just had it verified by DNA testing. In fact, that’s why I decided to apply in the first place.”

Mr. Fulton looked like he was going to be sick as he explained, “I cheated on Diane while we were dating. Just once, but—”

“It led to my mom getting pregnant,” Bethany supplied. “I’ve had some strange… health issues these past few years, and I’ve been trying to learn more about my best options. So, finally my mom caved and told me more about my father.”

“Oh,” I said simply. It sucked for Diane that her husband had cheated on her. Sure, they hadn’t been married at that time, but they’d still been committed to each other. You always assume that your partner will be faithful—but then again, you also assume they won’t try to murder anyone you care about, too.

“We figured since you were already part of the family drama, thanks to Diane, you at least deserved to know the full story,” she said with a sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Bethany. I treated you horribly.” It all came rushing to me then. She’d grown up without a dad. She’d suffered health issues she didn’t feel comfortable disclosing, and she’d recently lost an aunt she never even got the chance to know.

“Yes, you did,” Bethany said with a frown that quickly transformed into a smile. “But I’ve treated you horribly on so many other occasions that perhaps we’re just even now. Let’s stop trying to tear each other down and start lifting each other up instead now, okay?”

“We girls have to stick together,” I said in agreement. “By the way, I really like your outfit.”

She smiled and sashayed playfully at the compliment.

“Again, I’m so sorry that my wife tried to kill you,” Mr. Fulton said with a pained expression. “What I don’t understand is why. Do you know?”

Both he and Bethany studied me with curious eyes.

I took a deep breath to steady myself before revealing, “She thought I was psychic and that I had figured everything out. As part of that, she confessed to killing Ethel in a scheme to get more money out of your divorce.”

Mr. Fulton sighed and shook his head.

“Are you?” Bethany asked, her breathing hitched slightly as she awaited my response.

I scrunched up my face in confusion. “Am I what?”

“Psychic,” she supplied.

“What?” I chuckled nervously. No one besides Nan could ever know the truth about me and Octo-Cat. “No, of course not. Don’t be silly.”

Bethany laughed, too. “Just seeing if you still have your wits about you after that massive loss of oxygen to your brain.”

Mr. Fulton placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Bethany, could you give us a moment?”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting for you outside,” she answered, smiling at me one more time before leaving the room and clicking the door shut behind her.

Fulton grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up beside my bed. “I think it goes without saying I’ll be resigning from the firm.”

I nodded, unsure of what he wanted from me now.

“I’ll actually be using it as an opportunity to retire, get to know my daughter, and enjoy life outside of work for a change.”

“That’s great,” I said, happy for him but finding it hard to maintain my enthusiasm. My brain felt heavy with the weight of all the new knowledge I’d acquired that day, and I needed my rest.

“I had no idea what Diane was up to all this time, but I’m so sorry you got hurt because of it.” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a check book. “I know I can never make it fully right, but let me help you somehow. Do you think one-hundred thousand is enough to…? Well, to forgive me?”

I edged my hand toward his, but couldn’t quite reach. “You don’t need to pay me off. I forgive you.”

“Please let me do something. This money and more was going to go to Diane in the divorce, but now that she’ll probably be spending the rest of her life in prison, I suddenly have far more than I need.” He seemed so sad, so desperate to give me a small fortune in recompense. But he had never done anything wrong. Well, not for the past thirtyish years, at least.

“I don’t need anything,” I said, realizing as soon as I said the words that they weren’t entirely true.

Mr. Fulton must have caught onto my ambivalence, because he said, “I can see you do. How about one hundred and fifty? Two hundred? Please, just tell me what you need.”

For the briefest of moments, I allowed myself to envision what life would be like with that kind of money. I could stop working, put a sizable down payment on a house all my own, or even take a couple years off to travel the world.

I could do anything my little heart desired.

But, honestly, I liked my life, no matter how lackluster it may appear to an outsider. Sure, I wanted to be rich one day— who doesn’t? —but I also wanted to make my own fortune, my own way.

There was one thing, however, I now desperately wanted that only Mr. Fulton could provide.

“I do have a request, if you don’t mind,” I said after licking my cracked and dried lips.

He perked right up and poised his pen over the checkbook. “Anything. Name your price.”

“Would you mind if I keep the cat?” I asked, almost afraid to breathe until he gave me his answer.

He closed his checkbook and stared at me blankly. “The cat?” he asked to clarify.

“Yeah, Octavius Maxwell…” I broke off in a laugh. “You know, Ethel’s cat, the one I’ve been looking after this week.”

“The cat!” Recognition at last lighted in his eyes. “I forgot about him with everything else that’s been going on these past few days.”

I smiled and waited for his answer.

It came with a wink that I didn’t quite understand. “Of course you can have the cat. I’ll send over his things in a couple days when you’re settled back at home.”

My heart filled with joy over being able to keep an animal I had until very recently considered the bane of my existence, but now wouldn’t trade for the world—or for two-hundred thousand dollars.

“Thank you so much,” I called after Mr. Fulton’s departing figure, absolutely beside myself with delight.

I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Octo-Cat the good news.

Iwas given the next two weeks off work to recover from my ordeal and spent most of it curled up on the couch with Octo-Cat, catching up on all our favorite human TV shows. We even found a show about a cat trainer, which we both found hilarious. Every time the “expert” interpreted what the cat was feeling, Octo-Cat corrected him and we both broke out laughing.

A few days into my forced vacation time—yeah, they really had to twist my arm on this one—a parcel arrived by courier.

“What’s this?” I asked, after signing my name on the dotted line.

He shrugged and trotted away, leaving me alone with the mysterious letter. It was a very thick letter, at least twenty pages long.

“Whatcha got there?” Octo-Cat asked, coming to sit beside me at the table as I continued to puzzle over the manila envelope lying before me.