Molly Fitz: The Cat Caper (Pet Whisperer P.I. Book 5)

But I didn’t care about the fact my crush held me tight or that I’d almost fallen a full story. All I cared about was the blurry, brown-and-black-striped figure that sat in the small courtyard below, regarding me irritably.

“You know…” Octo-Cat said slowly, his way of making sure I understood. “I’ve been gone for three whole days. That’s three whole days drinking tap water and choking down store brand cat food. Three days without my iPad or cat door. Do you know how much I’ve suffered? Honestly, Angela, what took you so long?”

I choked on a sob and jabbed Charles with my elbow. “Give me twenty bucks,” I said, holding out my hand.

“Are you going to take me home now?” Octo-Cat demanded. “I’m not stepping paw on that dirty cement again, and I’ve had more than enough of an adventure for this week, thank you very much.”

I wiped my nose on the back of my arm and ran down the stairs. When I reached Octo-Cat, I scooped him up into my arms and squeezed him to my chest.

“Gross!” he protested. “I just finished my mid-day ministrations, and now you’ve gone and wiped your germs all on me. Unhand me, you filthy human. Unhand me right now.”

I set him back on the grass and laughed like a crazy person. I didn’t care what anyone thought. This was one of the very best days of my entire life. Octo-Cat was here, and he was no worse for the wear—no matter what he claimed. I did wonder, though…

I stared into his glinting amber eyes as I asked, “How are you here on your own? Where’s the person who took you?”

My tabby jumped up onto a nearby bench seat and waved his paw around dramatically. Whatever he was about to say, it was sure to be entertaining and to overexaggerate his importance. Ahh, it was so good to have him back.

Octo-Cat smiled as he launched into his harrowing tale. “Well, she was leaving in a hurry a couple hours back. She tried to take me with her, but I let these babies out, and—”

Schwink. His claws popped out in all their menacing glory.

“Let’s just say I won that particular fight.” He laughed in that favorite villainous way of his.

“You said she. Do you know who took you? Was it a woman?”

He shrugged his adorable little kitty shoulders. “It was definitely a person I’ve seen before. I’m pretty sure it was one of Ethel’s relatives, and I am at least sixty percent sure the person was a female.”

I patted him between his ears. “Good work.” He still had a hard time telling humans apart, but he was getting better. Slowly but surely, he was getting better, and he was back with me where we belonged.

“Um, Angie?” Charles said, approaching with Nan and Cal at either side. “We can still make the arbitration, if you want to—”

“Let’s do it,” I said.

Now that I had my best friend at my side, there was no way I would let anyone hurt him ever again. We were back together, and that’s how we would stay.

Chapter Twenty

“I object!” Nan cried when the five of us burst into the county court roughly twenty minutes later.

The nearest clerk waved us over to her window behind a thick layer of plexiglass. “Hello, there. What are we objecting to today?”

Charles pushed himself in front of Nan. “Hi, yes. We’re here for the arbitration hearing regarding Ethel Fulton’s estate.”

The woman nodded her permed head and continued to smile brightly at all of us. “Oh, lots of folks have come in for that one. Room B-2. You’re right on time. Good luck.”

Before we could stop her, Nan ran down the hall and flung open the door to Room B-2. “I object!” she cried.

The rest of us ran after her and popped in a second later.

“Longfellow,” the person who sat at the front of the room said, fixing Charles with a stern look. “Control your client, and do it now.”

We all sat in the back of the room, careful not to make direct eye contact with any of the other heirs. I did a quick scan and saw that Anne was nowhere to be found.

Drats! I still desperately wanted proof that it had been her, and I wanted to make sure she understood the lengths I would go to in order to protect my cat from any future shenanigans on her part.

“Now,” the arbiter said, “there have been several challenges to the will of Ethel Fulton, particularly in regards to one Octavius Fulton. Is he here today?”

“Yes, your honor.” I rose to my feet with my furry friend in my arms, not sure whether I was addressing the arbiter correctly since this was all a huge first for me.

“Let me guess. Octavius is the cat. Isn’t he?” the man asked with a bored expression.

“Yes, but Ethel loved him like a son and wanted to make sure he was cared for in the manner to which he’d grown accustomed,” Charles explained.

“I can see that.” The arbiter flipped through the copy of the will in front of him and cracked his neck to either side. He glanced up at us again a few minutes later with a tight-lipped smile. “There are precedents for this. Ethel could have left the entire state of Maine to her cat for all I care. It’s not up to the court to question that. So, why are we here?”

“The house,” a scratchy voice wheezed from near the door.

Everyone turned, and I about lost my lunch when I saw who was standing there.

Anne Fulton was every bit as frumpy as I remembered. Her gray hair had been cut short, and her arm was freshly bandaged but still bleeding heavily.

“Is that your work?” I whispered to Octo-Cat.

“You bet it is,” he answered proudly, then narrowed his gaze on Anne and let out an impressive hiss.

“The house wasn’t specifically in the will,” the arbiter said.

“Maybe not,” Anne said, keeping a great deal of distance between us as she approached the front of the room. “But somehow the cat’s still managed to inherit it.”

“Actually, the house is mine,” I said.

“And mine,” Nan added.

“My clients purchased the house from the open market. Their ties to Ethel Fulton’s estate are irrelevant,” Charles added helpfully. My hero.

“I agree,” the arbiter said. “Anything else to contest?”

Nobody said anything, but Nan wore a giant, sappy grin. Octo-Cat had hopped into her lap, and she was petting him with slow, leisurely strokes—just the way he liked.

“Then the terms of the will stand as written,” the arbiter said. I expected a gavel to bang, but it didn’t. Oh, well.

We remained seated until all the Fultons had shuffled out of the room. I was sad to see that my old boss, Richard, hadn’t been able to make the trip up from Florida, but happy that this was finally over.

Only Anne remained behind.

“I know it was you,” I hissed.

Octo-Cat backed me up with a hiss of his own, too.

“Why did you take my cat?” I demanded, gripping the edges of my chair so I wouldn’t be tempted to charge straight up to her and give her the beat-down she deserved.

Anne didn’t even look sorry. “That’s my aunt Ethel’s cat. He should have stayed in the family after she’d gone.”

“Him or his trust fund?” Nan shot back. “Because judging by that open wound on your arm, our dear Octavius doesn’t want anything to do with the likes of you.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Anne spat. “And you can’t do anything, either. So I took a cat for a few days. It’s not like I committed murder.”

“You’re walking on really shaky ground,” Nan warned as Octo-Cat jumped off her lap and trotted over to the villainess of the hour.

“I’m going to get that house,” Anne mumbled, then grabbed her injured arm and fled through the door right as Oct-Cat was getting ready to take a fresh swipe.