Миранда Джеймс - Six Cats A Slayin'

Back in the kitchen I informed Azalea of the errant kitten, and she chuckled as she set a plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans at my place at the table. “Little scamp. He’ll be out again before you know it.”

“Not as long as Diesel is there keeping an eye out for attempts at jailbreak,” I said.

“Mr. Cat acts like he’s their daddy.” Azalea set a glass of iced tea on the table along with a small plate of buttered rolls.

I cut into the roast beef, so tender it nearly fell apart simply from the touch of the knife. I forked a bite into my mouth and savored while I chewed slowly. After I swallowed, I said, “Perfection as usual, Azalea. No one can do roast like you do.”

“You say that every time I cook a roast.” Azalea regarded me with a faint smile.

“And every time it’s true.” I grinned. After a mouthful of potatoes and gravy, I said, “We’ve got to come up with another solution for keeping the horde from getting loose all over the house.”

“What about one of those cages they put dogs in?” Azalea asked.

“That’s one possibility, if there’s one big enough for all five of them,” I replied. “I wouldn’t want to separate them if I don’t have to. I’ll have to think about it.”

I had never cared for the sight of dogs in crates, even though friends assured me that crate-trained dogs felt safe and comfortable with them. Stewart crated Dante occasionally, but given the poodle’s tendencies to get into mischief when left on his own, I understood why Stewart did it. Dante had a penchant for gnawing on Stewart’s most expensive shoes.

In the case of five growing and curious kittens, however, a large crate or cage might be the safest choice. I would check with the vet’s office to find out where I might get a large one that would keep the kittens contained but allow them room to play. I hoped I could find one and get it installed in the next couple of days, because I had little doubt that where Ramses led, the other four would soon follow. Diesel and Azalea would do their best, but they couldn’t watch the kittens every minute.

Besides, I realized, having the kittens safely contained meant that Diesel could come to the office with me or to the public library. I believed he would understand that the kittens would be out of harm’s way in the cage and would then be happy to accompany me as usual. I had become so used to having Diesel with me almost everywhere I went, and when he wasn’t with me, I definitely felt his absence.

That decided me. A cage it would be.

Once I finished my meal, I called the vet’s office and spoke to the receptionist. I told her what I needed, and she reminded me that Athena had one of those chain pet stores. I had forgotten that, because I never had gone inside it. I thanked her for the information and ended the call. I could make a run by the pet store this afternoon after I finished at the archive.

Before I left to return to work I went to the living room to check on Diesel and the kittens. Diesel blinked sleepily at me as I approached the corral, and he yawned, his tail swishing. I rubbed his head while I took in the scene inside the bookshelves. All the kittens were asleep, snuggled together on one of the two makeshift pet beds I had made for them out of several old quilts.

How tiny and defenseless they looked. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could be cruel enough to harm such innocent little creatures, but sadly I knew it happened every day. I would do what I could to ensure their safety while they were in my care, and I intended to solve the riddle of their appearance on my doorstep. I felt sad for the child who’d had to give them up to protect them. They would all go to good, loving homes, one way or another, if they couldn’t return safely to their original home.

I turned and walked softly back across the hall to the kitchen. “All quiet on the kitten front,” I told Azalea. “At the moment they’re all napping.”

Azalea nodded. “Maybe they’ll sleep for a while now. I have plenty to do before Miss Alex comes by with the baby.” Her face creased in a smile. “That little Rosie is the most precious thing.”

My granddaughter, Charlotte Rose Harris, was now almost two months old, and every time I saw her I wanted to melt into the floor. She had Sean’s dark hair and her mother’s pert nose. She was not a placid child, unlike her cousin Charlie, who was hardly ever fussy. Miss Rosie reminded me greatly of her aunt Laura, who had also been a fractious baby.

“I know Alex and Laura both appreciate you helping look after the babies,” I said. “I’m going to run by the pet store after work, but I should be home by four at the latest to help you.”

Azalea looked at me. “The day I can’t take care of a bitty baby is the day they put me in the old folks’ home. Don’t you rush home on my account. Miss Rosie and I will be fine. Besides, Miss Alex is only going to go get her hair done and do a little shopping.”

I knew better than to argue. “All right. See you later.” I headed to my car. I glanced in the rearview mirror and then into the camera to guide me back toward the street. As I kept close watch on my backward progress, I saw the small figure of a woman walking down the sidewalk across the street.

Something about that woman looked awfully familiar. I stopped the car and turned in the seat to look at her. She turned into the walk at Gerry Albritton’s house and approached the front door.

I shook my head as I recognized the woman.

Melba Gilley, secret agent, was on the hunt for information.

FIVE

When I returned to work I thought about leaving a note on Melba’s desk, asking her to come see me when she got back from her lunch hour. Knowing my friend, however, I figured she would make a beeline for my office the minute she set foot in the building to fill me in on her visit to Gerry Albritton.

I didn’t have long to wait. Barely half an hour passed after I returned to my office before Melba hurried through my door.

“I bet you can’t guess where I’ve just been.” Melba almost skidded to a stop by the chair in front of my desk. She plopped down in the chair and looked at me, her expression smug.

“Gerry Albritton’s house.” I tried not to laugh at her obvious annoyance at my answer.

“How did you know?” She sounded cross.

“I saw you practically running down the sidewalk while I was backing out of my driveway after lunch. Didn’t you see me?” I said, and she shook her head. “I’m surprised you didn’t trip and break a leg, you were going so fast.” I couldn’t help exaggerating because I loved to tease her when she was in one of her snoopy moods.

Melba glowered at me. “I’ve got a good mind not to tell you what I found out.”

I grinned. “You’ll bust a blood vessel if you don’t, and you know it.”

She snorted with laughter. “You’re right about that.”

“So spill, what did you find out?”

Melba hesitated, and I could see that she was choosing her words before she responded. “Nothing concrete,” she said after a moment. “I tried asking her questions, but she deflected them. I even mentioned Billy Albritton, but she pretended not to hear me. I didn’t learn anything much.” She paused and shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before, but there’s something about her that’s so familiar. It’s driving me crazy, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Maybe she looks a little like somebody else you know,” I said. “I get those feelings sometimes because of a superficial resemblance. Now you, I’ve always thought, remind me a little bit of Paulette Goddard.”

“Really?” Melba said, looking pleased. “I loved her in that Bob Hope movie, the one with the haunted castle.”