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Софи Райан: The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

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Софи Райан The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Sarah Grayson is the happy proprietor of Second Chance, a charming shop in the oceanfront town of North Harbor, Maine. At the shop, she sells used items that she has lovingly refurbished and repurposed. But her favorite pet project so far has been adopting a stray cat she names Elvis. Elvis has seen nine lives—and then some. The big black cat with a scar across his nose turned up at a local bar when the band was playing the King of Rock and Roll’s music and hopped in Sarah’s truck. Since then, he has been her constant companion and the furry favorite of everyone who comes into the store. And a helpful sleuth to boot! When Sarah’s elderly friend Maddie is found with the body of a dead man in her garden, the kindly old lady becomes the prime suspect in the murder. Even Sarah’s old high school flame, investigator Nick Elliot, seems convinced that Maddie was up to no good. So it’s up to Sarah and Elvis to clear her friend’s name and make sure the real murderer doesn’t get a second chance.

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“No, she’s not,” I said.

She nodded. “I thought about that afterward. I’m slipping, almost getting taken down by that repugnant, naked little man and you.”

“There’s nothing repugnant about Mr. Peterson,” I said. “But there’s a lot repugnant about you.”

“You’re getting on my nerves, Sarah,” Daisy said, frowning at me.

She was getting on my nerves, as well. My stomach had tied itself into a knot. I heard a sound behind me and Elvis came into the room. He had something large . . . and furry in his mouth. He headed right for Daisy and dropped the furry present on her foot.

She screamed. I dove for the cover of the counter. And Michelle and two other police officers came through the front door, guns drawn.

It was over.

I got up slowly. I’d banged both knees and scraped my hand. But there were no bullet holes in me. Or Elvis.

Nick hurried across the floor to me as I unbuttoned my sweater and pulled at the tape holding the microphone hidden just below my collarbone. “Are you all right?” he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. He was present only as a civilian and I was surprised that Michelle had agreed to let him be involved at all.

I nodded. “I’m okay,” I said. “Did the police get it all?”

He smiled. “Every incriminating word.”

Michelle was reading Daisy her rights while Elvis watched, one black paw on what I could now see was a stuffed toy, not a real mouse.

The two other officers led Daisy out and Michelle came over to Nick and me, trailed by Elvis.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, buttoning up my sweater again. “Is Maddie in the clear?”

“Yes.” She handed me the china gravy boat. I set it on the counter behind me and bent down to pick up Elvis.

“What did you do?” Michelle asked. “Why did Daisy scream? I thought we agreed no heroics.”

“It wasn’t me,” I said. I gave Elvis a scratch under his chin and he sighed. “It was him.” I pointed to the stuffed toy on the floor. “He came in with that in his mouth and dropped it on Daisy’s foot.”

Nick leaned sideways and squinted at the furry gray lump.

“It’s just a toy,” I said.

“No,” Nick said slowly. “It has feet and they’re moving.”

I took a couple of steps backward. Elvis gave me a self-satisfied smile. It was the only way to describe it. Then he licked my chin and wriggled to get down. I put him on the floor and he walked over to whatever was lying there, picked it up and headed for the front door. No one stopped him.

“Smart cat,” Michelle said to me.

“Don’t tell me you think it brought that mouse in on purpose to distract Daisy Fenety?” Nick said. “C’mon. It’s a cat.”

“I know,” I said. If Elvis could tell when someone was lying—and I was convinced he could—then it wasn’t that much of a stretch to believe his little stunt with the mouse was more than a coincidence.

Nick must have seen something on my face.

He shook his head. “Seriously, Sarah. You don’t really think that cat knew you were in trouble, do you? What? You think Elvis is Lassie and you’re Timmy stuck down a well?”

I frowned at him. “Of course not,” I said. “Elvis is much smarter than Lassie.”


Chapter 27



Sam had saved a big table for us at the back of the pub and we crowded around it to celebrate: Rose and Mr. P.; Liz and Avery, even though it was a school night; Charlotte; Maddie, of course; Mac; Jess, who had called Sam and organized the spontaneous celebration; Nick and even Elvis, riding in style in Rose’s canvas tote bag. We’d invited Michelle but she had paperwork to do. “Thank you for believing me,” I’d said to her as we stood in the shop parking lot.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she’d replied.

Sam brought a bottle of sparkling cider to the table and handed it to Jess. “I don’t think this bunch needs any alcohol,” he said.

He laid a hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said. “Don’t ever do something this stupid again.”

I rested my cheek against his hand for a moment. “Don’t worry, Sam,” I said. “My detective days are over.”

“I can’t believe Elvis came in and dropped a dead mouse on that woman’s foot,” Jess said as she poured the cider.

“Oh, I can,” Rose said. “Elvis is a very intelligent cat. And technically it wasn’t dead.”

He poked his head out of the bag and looked at us all, clearly happy about the praise.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into bringing him,” I said. “What if the health inspector finds out about this?”

“I don’t see a cat,” Liz said. “Does anyone else?”

“Not me,” Avery said with a grin.

“All I see is family,” Charlotte said.

I looked around the table. That was what I saw, too. Family. A bit of an odd one, but family nonetheless.

“Are you glad you came back?” Nick said quietly. He was sitting to my right.

I nodded. “Yes, I am. What about you?”

He looked at me and smiled. “Very glad,” he said.

Jess stood up and raised her glass. “A toast, everyone,” she said. “To Sarah and Elvis for catching Arthur Fenety’s killer.”

We clinked glasses and took a drink.

“So, are you going to make another career change and become a full-time investigator?” Nick teased, his brown eyes sparkling.

I shook my head. “No. This was my first and last time playing detective.”

Rose came around the side of the table, bent down and put her arms around my neck. “I’m so glad you’re all right, sweetie,” she said. “We won’t let this happen next time.”

Nick looked at me. I looked at Rose. “Next time?” I said.

Rose nodded. “Don’t worry.” She reached into the pocket of her sweater. “Our business cards came,” she said. “With all the excitement I forgot to show them to you.”

She handed me a cream-colored rectangle with black printing. It said CHARLOTTE’S ANGELS in cursive, with DISCREET INVESTIGATIONS underneath.

Rose beamed at me. “We’ve decided to open up a business. Isn’t this going to be fun?”






ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sofie Ryan is a writer and mixed-media artist who loves to repurpose things in her life and her art. She also writes the national bestselling Magical Cats mysteries under the name Sofie Kelly.

CONNECT ONLINE

www.sofieryan.com

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